#what we spoke about just possessed me and I had no control over what I was writing

[kpop-imgaines-at-your-demand]

Sly Plans Part 2

Summary - Y/N is till trying to figure out how to sort things out but someone from her past resurfaced.

Paring - Jeong Jaehyun x reader, Johnny Suh x reader. Kind of Nakamoto Yuta x reader(not really though)

Trigger warning - smut, name calling, pet names, fingering, oral sex (m receiving),dp, dubcon, humiliation, bondage.

Y/N lay beneath them, her body tense, mind racing. Johnny and Jaehyun hovered over her, their contrasting energies suffocating in their own ways. It was going to be a long night. She knew men well—too well. Their egos, their desires, their need for dominance. But this was different. This wasn’t about seduction or manipulation. She wasn’t the one in control. And yet… she still had to figure out how to survive this.

Johnny and Jaehyun so alike yet so different. Johnny treated her like a goddess ; his hands roaming over her skin with reverence, his gaze admiring, as if she were a masterpiece to be worshipped. He enjoyed her, but he wanted her to know it. Jaehyun, on the other hand, made it clear that she was his. His hands were firm, claiming, leaving no room for protest. He didn’t need to say it but his actions spoke loud enough. She was his possession. Y/N bit her lip, trying to steady her breath. How was she supposed to act? Johnny liked to adore. Jaehyun liked to own. And she? She just wanted to get through this night alive.

Y/N sat between them, her body tense, her mind racing. Johnny was the first to touch her, his hands warm as they cupped her breasts, his fingers pressing in just enough to make her shiver. He was savoring every reaction and every breath she took. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was behind her—his presence heavy and inescapable. His hands claimed her, parting her legs with ease, one palm resting just beneath her chest while the other dipping between her thighs. She sucked in a breath as he teased, slow and deliberate, as if to remind Johnny who she really belonged to.

Johnny smirked, exchanging an unreadable glance with Jaehyun. There was a silent conversation between them, one she wasn’t privy to. Y/N had to act. She couldn’t afford hesitation. She couldn’t afford fear. So, she let out a breathy sigh, her body yielding just enough. She didn’t have to do much, just respond and pretend. If she could convince them, she could survive this.

Jaehyun’s lips ghosted over her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin. Too close. Too much. Johnny’s nails dragged down her sides, his hand gripping her thigh. She felt everything, four hands on her, pulling her apart, taking their time. Then, suddenly, they stopped. The abrupt loss of contact sent a sharp pulse of confusion through her. Why? She blinked, dazed, as Jaehyun shoved her forward.

"Slut, you want to cum?" His voice was mocking, dark amusement lacing every syllable.

Johnny caught her before she could stumble, tilting her chin up with a smirk. "Hmm, baby… but think about the mess you’ve made. You need to earn it."

Y/N swallowed hard. Earn it. She turned to Johnny first, the lesser evil. Maybe if she played into his nature, he’d be softer. Slowly, she reached for his jacket, peeling it off his shoulders. Her fingers traced along his torso as she pulled his shirt over his head, pressing herself against him as if she belonged there, right now his lap. That’s when Jaehyun grabbed her hair, yanking her back.

"Is he the only one here, you fucking bitch?" His voice was sharp, possessive. She winced but didn’t dare fight back. Jaehyun’s jaw ticked. "This is what I get after you hacked into my account?"

Before she could answer, Johnny let out a chuckle. His tone was mocking.

"But Jaehyunnie," he drawled, using the affectionate nickname Y/N had once called Jaehyun, "she loves me more, doesn’t she? Because she likes being treated like a princess."

Jaehyun scoffed. "Princess, my ass." Then he turned to Johnny, his expression dark. "Weren’t you the one who just said we should drug her and let other men have a turn?"

Y/N’s blood ran cold. Her breath hitched. Her entire body went rigid. They both laughed at her reaction. Jaehyun tugged her hair again, but this time his voice was mocking.

"This one actually thinks you’re the good one, Johnny."

Jaehyun slapped her ass hard. She gasped. He tangled his hand more into her hair and pushed her down to Johnny’s crotch level.

"Weren't you undressing him a moment ago? Then go on, princess."

The way he said princess made her scared. She tried to compose herself. She could enjoy this if Jaehyun stopped breathing next to her ear for once. She reached her hand over Johnny’s belt, unbuckling it, then pulled down his zipper and took out his cock. Let's forget I'm in danger for once, she told herself. Let's focus.

She licked a slow, deliberate stroke along his shaft. Jaehyun’s grip never left her hair, but Johnny’s hand came in, holding the back of her neck. She nearly gasped when she felt a finger near her asshole. Jaehyun was playing with it, then suddenly pushed a finger inside. She shuddered. Focus, focus, she told herself as she concentrated on kissing Johnny’s cock and giving it kitten licks just the way he liked. Meanwhile, Jaehyun’s finger pumped in and out of her. She shuddered at the thought of it. Jaehyun was not in a merciful mood today. And if what she had heard about Johnny was true, then Johnny was probably even more dangerous than Jaehyun. She was busy sucking the tip of Johnny’s cock when she suddenly felt something bigger press against her ass after Jaehyun removed his finger.

Fuck, this will hurt, she mentally prepared herself. Fuck you, Jaehyun, she thought. Then, suddenly, he rammed his cock into her wet pussy, making her gasp and nearly bite down on Johnny’s cock. Jaehyun chuckled as if he had made the most hilarious joke but Johnny was not in a joking mood. His grip on her neck tightened as he lifted her up by it, pressing her against Jaehyun’s clothed chest and slapped her head. If it weren’t for Johnny holding her neck, she might have fallen.

"Be careful, princess," he hissed near her face, his expression dark and dangerous.

"Sorry," the word almost fell from her lips automatically.

Jaehyun lightly pumped into her while Johnny leaned in to say something to him but she didn’t catch it. Fuck, she’s already slipping. Jaehyun removed himself from her, tossing her onto the bed like a ragdoll. Then, he began undressing himself while Johnny got rid of his bottoms. Johnny climbed onto the bed, pulling Y/N from behind, holding her upright in a sitting position as he massaged her breasts. Meanwhile, Jaehyun retrieved a bottle of lube from the drawer. He returned to the bed, smirking as he taunted her.

"What happened, baby? Why so shocked? Isn’t this your favorite flavor?" he teased, waving the lube bottle in front of her eyes. Indeed, it was. She closed her eyes, leaning into Johnny. I just need to think. Then she gasped again, Jaehyun’s three lubed fingers had slipped past her entrance and started pumping. Johnny joined in, sliding two lubed fingers inside her alongside Jaehyun’s, his thumb circling her clit. It was too much. But she couldn't lose.

Her hands reached down to grab both of their dicks and she began pumping. Shit. She was regretting trapping two men with insane stamina at the same time. She kept stroking them, but their fingers were making her thoughts incoherent. Orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. She slumped against Johnny’s chest, her earlier plan forgotten as she held their dicks lightly, gasping for air. But they weren’t done yet. She felt Johnny positioning her over his dick.

"No," she mewled softly, but he didn’t listen. Her own body didn’t listen. Pleasure surged through her as he pushed inside, making her roll her eyes back. Then she felt Jaehyun’s cock brushing against her clit. She moaned loudly.

"Please—" she didn’t even know what she was begging for. She just knew it felt so fucking good. Then, she felt pressure, Jaehyun, too, was entering her. She whined,"It wouldn’t…"

"Oh, it surely would," Johnny shivered against her ear.

She had never felt so full in her life, so overstimulated and sensitive to their every touch.

"Look at her—all cock-drunk," Jaehyun murmured, gripping her jaw. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it, you bitch in heat?"

"Princess," Johnny cooed, hugging her closer to him. "This is what you wanted, men pampering you rotten?"

They began pumping inside her, and she was completely incoherent. She could only think about their cocks and how good it felt. She tried to lean in to kiss Jaehyun, to grasp onto some semblance of control, but he didn’t let her. Instead, he connected his lips to her neck, kissing and suckling with slow and deliberate pressure..Johnny tilted her head slightly, forcing her to meet his eyes. There was something hard in his gaze..These men kept going, taking turns kissing her neck and massaging her breasts and ass.

She was so close to her second orgasm—if she had even recovered from the first. They were being rough with her. She could feel it in the way their teeth and nails dragged against her skin. It would leave marks. Marks that said she was utterly screwed.

^____^____^_____^______^______^_____^____^

Y/N was sore. Her body ached in ways she hadn’t expected, exhaustion weighing her down like chains. Last night had been intense. She had experienced rough nights before, nights where pleasure blurred into something more overwhelming, but this—this was different.It wasn’t just physical. The mental toll was worse.

She sat alone in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked the same, but she felt unrecognizable. Her lips were slightly swollen, her skin marked with reminders of the night before. She traced a faint bruise on her collarbone and exhaled shakily.For the first time in years, she didn’t feel like she was in control. She was always the one calling the shots, the one slipping away before things could turn against her. But now? Now, she was trapped.

Even here, in the supposed privacy of the bathroom, she couldn’t let her guard down. They might have cameras. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Could she even risk planning an escape? She turned on the faucet, letting the sound of running water fill the silence as she pressed her hands against the cold porcelain sink. Think. Think. There had to be a way out. She couldn’t stay here. She wouldn’t stay here.

But as she met her own gaze in the mirror, a horrifying realization settled over her.

^____^____^_____^_____^____^_____^

Y/N thought the worst was over. She was wrong.

The room was small, suffocating. No windows, just a single dim light above her, casting eerie shadows along the walls. The door was locked, and she had no clue how long she had been here. Minutes? Hours? She had lost track. Jaehyun’s words still rang in her ears.

"I don’t trust you right now. You have to earn it."

Her blood boiled at the sheer audacity. Earn his trust? She was the one being held captive. Stripped, humiliated, trapped like an animal in a cage. And now they expected her to prove herself? Y/N clenched her fists..She had no way out, not yet. But if they thought this would break her, they were dead wrong. She swore to herself, the moment she got out of this, Jaehyun and Johnny would pay.

^____^____^____^____^____^___^

The night air was thick with the scent of sizzling spices but all Y/N could feel was the burn of rage beneath her skin. Jaehyun had casually ordered her to cook, as if she were nothing more than a servant. Barefoot, naked, she moved through the kitchen, her movements sharp and controlled. But his eyes never left her, watching and studying, as if she were some rare specimen under his control.

She wanted to scream, to fight, to dig her nails into his smug face. Instead, she focused on the food. He had told her to prepare four large portions. Not two. Not three. Four. hat fact sat heavy in her mind. Who else was coming? Was someone else going to see her like this? She had learned not to hope for the best. Her life had only gone downhill since the night she stepped into Jaehyun’s penthouse.

And as if to prove her point, Jaehyun suddenly moved behind her, pressing against her, his hand sliding down, fingers slipping between her thighs. Y/N’s breath caught.

"Keep cooking," he murmured against her ear, his tone amused.

It took everything in her not to snap. Every slice of the knife, every stir of the spoon,all while his touch burned into her. She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to break. He wanted to see her humiliated, see her struggle to obey while he tested her limits. She couldn’t keep focusing on cooking—not with Jaehyun’s fingers deep inside her, playing her like an instrument he knew by heart.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the seasoning, her grip tightening around the bottle as she tried to keep some semblance of control. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

gnore it. Ignore him.

She forced her mind elsewhere, but it was impossible to ignore the way his fingers curled inside her and the slow, lazy strokes.

She had been told to prepare large portions—which would’ve made sense for Jaehyun and Johnny. Maybe even herself. But four? That was suspicious. Her pulse quickened. What was he planning? Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he just wanted leftovers. But nothing about Jaehyun ever screamed casual.

Then, just as suddenly as he had started, he pulled his fingers away, leaving her empty and aching. She clenched her jaw, refusing to react, but her body betrayed her with a shudder.He chuckled behind her, clearly amused.Jaehyun was cruel. He didn’t care if she finished. He probably enjoyed denying her. And the worst part? She actually missed the foolish, infatuated Jaehyun from a few days ago. At least back then, she could control him.

Y/N hurried to finish cooking, ignoring the heat pooling between her thighs. She was aroused, confused, and furious. She just wanted this to be over.

Once the meal was ready, she set three plates on the dining table, expecting to finally be dismissed. But instead, Jaehyun leaned back in his chair and gestured for her to step away. Then, with a press of a button, something whirred behind her. A projection beam flickered to life.

Before she could react, he latched a restraint onto her wrists, yanking her arms up. She was restrained, forced onto her tiptoes, her chest thrust forward in a humiliating display. She realised, he had clear his fancy wine rack just to use it as her bounding point. She was standing right infront of the dining table.Her breath caught in her throat.

"You’re putting me on display, aren’t you?" she spat, struggling against the restraints. Jaehyun tilted his head, his smirk sharp enough to cut.

"Wow," he drawled. "You’re so smart."

^___^___^___^____^____^

Y/N recognized him instantly. The sharp jawline. The piercing gaze. The way his presence felt like a threat even when he was perfectly still.

Seven years.That’s how long it had been. But there was no mistaking him. The son of that middle-aged architect. Her stomach dropped.

No. No, this wasn’t happening.

She stared into his eyes, she knew. The subtle shift in his expression, the way amusement flickered in his gaze,he had recognized her, too. Johnny’s voice cut through the suffocating silence, smooth and lethal.

“You look surprised, darling,” he mused, tilting his head. “Didn’t think you’d see him again, did you?”

Johnny continued, pacing leisurely, like a predator who already knew his prey had no escape.

“It was actually him who recognized you first.” He gestured toward the man across from her. “A lucky coincidence, really. When he saw you, he just had this… gut feeling.”

Johnny chuckled.

“So, of course, we started digging. And what do you know?”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a whisper.

“You weren’t just some gold-digging con artist.”

His smirk widened. “You were a murderer.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her throat tightened. She forced herself to breathe, to stay calm, but panic clawed at her chest, sharp and unrelenting. Johnny straightened up, stretching as if this was all a casual conversation to him. Then, with a smug tilt of his head, he turned to Jaehyun.

“And the best part?” He grinned. “Turns out she was trapping you, too.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold. Her fingers clenched at her sides as she forced herself to meet his gaze.

“Yuta,” Y/N breathed, barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, tilting his head. “Hello again, stepmom.”

Her stomach twisted. She didn’t react, not outwardly. She had learned long ago never to show weakness. But inside? Inside, she was already calculating a way out.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, keeping her voice steady. Yuta tsked, shaking his head as he stepped closer. “What kind of question is that?” His grin widened. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, Y/N?”

He dragged out her name mockingly, eyes never leaving her face. Y/N swallowed. Jaehyun and Johnny hadn’t said anything yet. They were just watching and waiting. And that was somehow worse.

Yuta let out a low hum, glancing around the room. “You know, when Johnny called me and said he had a surprise, I didn’t think it’d be this entertaining.”

His gaze flickered back to her, sharp and knowing.

“You were always good at keeping secrets,” he mused, “but you weren’t as smart as you thought, were you?”

Her nails dug into her palms.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said evenly.

Yuta’s smirk deepened.

“Oh, I think you do.”

He stepped even closer, so close she could smell the faint hint of cologne on him.

“You ruined my father,” he murmured, voice deceptively soft. “And now, you think you can just start over? With them?”

He gestured lazily to Jaehyun and Johnny, who still hadn’t said a word.Y/N held his gaze.

“I did what I had to do.”

A beat of silence.Then Yuta laughed—actually laughed. It was low and rich, like he had just heard the most amusing joke in the world.

“God, I missed you,” he said, shaking his head.

Y/N stiffened. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Like he was hungry. Jaehyun finally spoke, his voice smooth but laced with amusement.

“I told you she was still the same.”

Johnny hummed in agreement. “Yeah. But you owe me, I said she’d fight first before playing along.”

Yuta’s brows lifted. “Really?” He turned back to her, licking his lips. “What do you think, stepmom? Are you gonna fight?”

Y/N swallowed hard. Because the way he said it, the way all three of them were watching her, she already knew. This was a game to them.

She needed an distraction yet her mind kept going seven years back. Y/N knew why Yuta kept calling her his stepmother. It was a cruel joke, a reminder of the past she had tried to bury.

Mr. Nakamoto. A powerful man, but a foolish one. He had promised her the world, whispered sweet assurances that his wife was nothing but a formality, a chapter he was ready to close. He had spoken of divorce as if it were a mere inconvenience, a stepping stone toward the future he envisioned with her. Y/N never wanted to be his wife. She was comfortable being his mistress, pampered, spoiled, and free from the responsibilities that came with being tied down. Marriage? Ridiculous. She was playing a game, and Mr. Nakamoto was nothing more than a pawn. That's when she had decided to take his money and leave.

She always assumed he was a fool after all. His son was different. She remembered the first time she saw Yuta the moment he stormed into his father’s office, his expression twisted in rage. He had looked at her with such raw hatred that, for the first time in a long while, she had felt afraid.

The air had been thick with tension as he turned on his father.

"How the hell can you do this?" Yuta had spat, disgust dripping from his voice. "You’re actually trading Mom for—"

His gaze flicked to Y/N, dark and furious.

"—this whore?"

Mr. Nakamoto had barely reacted. He had simply sighed, shaking his head as if his son were nothing more than a petulant child.

"Watch your mouth, Yuta." His voice had been firm, dismissive. "She’s going to be your stepmother. You need to start showing some respect."

Y/N had smirked. She knew the effect that would have on Yuta. And she had been right. His fists clenched. His jaw tightened.And for a brief moment, she had wondered, was he going to hit her?

But he didn’t. Instead, he had taken a slow step forward, voice dropping to something dangerous.

"You really think she loves you?" Yuta had whispered, his eyes boring into hers.

Y/N had tilted her head, feigning innocence.

"What else would I be here for?" she had purred.

His laughter had been cold.

"You're a snake," Yuta had murmured.

And then, without another word, he had turned on his heel and walked out.

Now, Yuta had changed. The difference was almost unbelievable. Back then, he had been the perfect, polished heir - dressed in crisp white shirts, his hair neatly combed back, his posture straight and composed. A model son, the kind that fathers paraded around like a trophy. Now? Now, he looked like he had set fire to that version of himself and watched it burn.

His hair was longer, falling messily over his face, with streaks of color that hadn’t been there before. His nails were painted black, silver rings glinting on his fingers as he tapped them against the arm of his chair. His clothes; ripped jeans, a leather jacket that looked well-worn, a silver chain around his neck, gave him the air of someone who had stopped caring about expectations.

Y/N couldn't help but stare. He had gone from a pristine prince to a man who looked like he belonged on stage, with thousands of people screaming his name. He wasn't the man she remembered. And that? That made him dangerous.

^___^___^___^___^

The way they just sat there, eating dinner so casually, infuriated her. She was hungry. She was naked. She was tied up, on full display right in front of them. And they were just eating.

Eating the food she had cooked while Jaehyun had his fingers buried inside her, cruelly keeping her on edge but never letting her fall over.

Yuta and Jaehyun finished first, setting down their utensils without sparing her a glance. But Johnny? Johnny picked up a plate, his movements slow and deliberate, before walking toward her. Then, to her surprise, he lifted a forkful of food toward her lips. Her stomach twisted—not just from hunger but from uncertainty. Was this a trick? A test? Or was Johnny… showing her mercy?

“He didn’t feed you, did he?” Johnny murmured, his voice almost soft. She blinked at him, widening her eyes in a way she knew made her look small, innocent. If there was one person here she could manipulate, it was him.

“No,” she whispered, pouting. But Johnny only smirked, his eyes dark with mock amusement.

“Too bad,” he said smoothly. And then he shoved the bite into her mouth.

“Because you’ll need all the strength you can get,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her cheek as she swallowed. “For what we’re about to do to you, princess.”

Y/N swallowed, the taste of the food barely registering as Johnny’s words settled over her like a heavy weight.

For what we’re about to do to you, princess.

Her stomach clenched. She hated how easily they toyed with her, how effortlessly they are dictating every part of her life. She had been careful—so careful—for years, playing her cards right, always staying one step ahead. And yet, here she was. Stripped. Tied up. At their mercy.

She forced herself to stay still as Johnny ran his fingers along her jaw, his grip deceptively gentle. His touch had always been unpredictable sometimes soft, sometimes cruel but always laced with control. Across the table, Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, lazily swirling a glass of wine in his hand. His eyes raked over her, assessing, enjoying. Yuta, on the other hand, looked downright amused. He had changed—no longer the clean-cut, obedient son she remembered from years ago. His hair was longer, his nails painted black, his entire demeanor more rebellious. But his eyes? Still the same. Still burning with the resentment he had held for her all those years ago.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Yuta mused, resting his chin in his palm. “You were supposed to be my stepmother.”

He let the word hang in the air, enjoying the way her body tensed.

“You were supposed to marry my father,” he continued, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Play house. Be the perfect little trophy wife.”

He tilted his head.

“And yet, look at you now.”

Y/N clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She hated how smug he looked. She hated how Jaehyun watched her like a predator waiting for its prey to snap. She hated how Johnny still held the fork between his fingers, as if debating whether to feed her again or let her starve. She hated all of it. But most of all.......She hated herself for the way her body still reacted to them.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Jaehyun finally said, his voice smooth but mocking. “Cat got your tongue?”

Or are you just accepting your place?

Y/N lifted her chin, refusing to let them see her break—not yet.

“I was just thinking,” she said, her voice calm despite the storm inside her. Johnny raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Yuta’s smirk widened. “Oh? About what?”

Her lips curled into a small, defiant smile.

“Trying to figure out what you want from me and how will you pay up for treating me like this. Because I'll make you pay. ”

A beat of silence. Then Johnny laughed—low, dark, and utterly entertained. Jaehyun merely smirked, setting his wine glass down with a soft clink. Yuta? Yuta just grinned.

“Now that,” he said, leaning forward, “I’d love to see you try.”

Jaehyun leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. His eyes were sharp, dissecting her every move, every breath. “But tell me, how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

Yuta chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “She’s bluffing. She just wants to see if we’ll take the bait.”

Y/N held her gaze steady, refusing to waver. “You think I don’t have a plan?” she challenged.

Yuta smirked. “Oh, I’m sure you do, stepmother. I’m just wondering how effective it’ll be when you’re tied up and naked at our feet.”

Her jaw tightened. Johnny sighed dramatically, dragging his chair back as he stood. “I have to say, you’re making this even more fun for us, Y/N.” He stepped closer, tilting her chin up with two fingers. “You keep fighting, keep resisting, but deep down…”

His fingers traced a slow path down her throat, stopping just above her collarbone.

“You love this, don’t you?”

She swallowed hard, refusing to answer.

Jaehyun chuckled darkly. “Silence speaks volumes, princess.”

Yuta propped his feet up on the table, watching the exchange like it was his personal form of entertainment. “Let’s test that theory then, shall we?”

Johnny let his fingers trail down further, ghosting over the curve of her shoulder before pulling away completely. Jaehyun stood next, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. “Since you’re so eager to make us pay…” He glanced at Johnny and Yuta. “Let’s see how much you can take first.”

Y/N’s heart pounded, but she forced herself to stay calm. She wasn’t broken. Not yet.

^_^_^_^

You've came so far so tell me something

[elejahfanfic]

The events in France, a whirlwind of clandestine meetings, betrayals, and a bloody confrontation left a trail of bodies in its wake. None of it was my fault," Katherine had insisted, her voice a low, husky purr. She talked of blackmail, of a manipulative Lucien who had threatened her into his shadowy scheme. "Lucien forced my hand, Elijah," she insisted, her voice a low, throaty murmur. "He had leverage...but I can't tell you what it is. Not yet. You'll just have to trust me."

Elijah wanted to trust the woman who had stolen his heart centuries ago, the woman whose love was as fierce and consuming as the Louisiana sun.

The desperation in her eyes, however, seemed genuine. It was a stark contrast to the practiced charm she’d used in their past encounters.

He inhaled silently. Her beauty had always been a weapon, a captivating facade concealing a ruthless ambition. He had seen firsthand the depths of her manipulation. He felt the familiar sting of past betrayals, the lingering bitterness of broken promises. The idea of Lucien possessing such potent leverage over her, however, sparked a strange curiosity in him. What could possibly hold such power over a creature as cunning and self-serving as Katherine? He knew Lucien, a cunning and ambitious vampire himself, capable of cruelty and deceit. The thought of a threat so powerful it could control Katherine was intriguing, almost unsettling in its implications. There was a possibility that Lucien was playing a game for a larger and more dangerous intent.

She sauntered towards him, her dark hair a cascade of midnight, her movements languid and graceful.

"Can we talk about something more important. Can we talk about you and me. And what happened in Mystic Falls. I meant what I said then. I love you and only you." Katherine said her voice laced with a vulnerability that felt both genuine and strategically placed. Elijah studied her face, searching for any trace of deception, any flicker of the manipulative Katherine he knew so well. But there was only a desperate plea in her eyes. The love, however, felt brittle, fragile, like a stained-glass window held together by cracks. In the end, Elijah saw the weight of her confession. He knew the truth lay somewhere between her desperate plea and his own ingrained distrust. He allowed himself a flicker of hope, a tiny crack in the wall he’d built around his heart, hoping, against the bitter evidence of years past, that perhaps, just perhaps, this time she spoke the truth.

He knew the risks - the potential for chaos, for the shattering of his meticulously guarded emotional landscape. She was a master manipulator, a creature of unparalleled cunning, and yet… there was a vulnerability beneath the surface, a flicker of something genuine that both intrigued and unsettled him. For a moment, he saw a glimpse of the woman beneath the vampire, a woman who had known loss and pain, a woman who, despite her manipulative tendencies, possessed a captivating depth. This vulnerability, this unexpected glimpse into her soul, chipped away at his defenses. The vow he'd made felt flimsy, almost childish, in the face of her complex and mesmerizing presence.

Before he could rationalize his thoughts, Katherine leaned in, a dangerous glint in her eyes that mirrored the glint in his own, a silent conversation passing between them. Her scent - a heady blend of vanilla and something darker, something ancient and undeniably alluring - overwhelmed him. The centuries melted away, leaving only the raw, potent pull of forbidden desire. He’d never been able to resist her and tonight proved no exception. His lips fell on hers in a kiss that was both furious and tender, a storm of emotions unleashed.

It was a kiss of desires long suppressed, a whirlwind of centuries compressed into a single, breathless moment.

As they pulled apart, their breaths hitched in their chests, a raw, primal connection echoing in the silence of the French Quarter night.

A silent understanding glittered in their eyes. This was a fragile beginning to a future uncertain but undeniably intertwined.

*

@beautyandwords

Kalijah_

*

@beautyandwords

[sosa2imagines]

My doll...

Disclaimer- Something my pervert brain thought about, I hope you all enjoy. Warning- Soft dark Bucky, smut, possessiveness, jealousy, 5.3k words.

Bucky Barnes had always been a man of few words. A soldier by nature, a soldier by habit. But it was something about you that had always made him feel like he was at a crossroads with himself, like his life could go one way or another depending on whether or not he could ever find the courage to speak up.

The first time he realized he was in love with you, it wasn’t a dramatic moment. There were no bells, no grand gestures. It wasn’t like he had a clear, defining thought of this is it. It was quieter than that. He was sitting next to you in the Avengers’ compound, watching you work on some new project you had thrown yourself into, fingers deftly moving over wires and circuits. Your brow furrowed in concentration, lips parted in that way that made him want to reach out and touch you.

He never had before, of course he was too afraid of ruining the friendship, too afraid of making things weird.

And that was how it had always been. Quiet. Unspoken.

But even with those feelings slowly building, Bucky stayed quiet. He watched you from the edges, from the safety of his distance, telling himself that if you ever really loved him, you’d say it first. He couldn’t risk the possibility of losing you altogether. So, he waited. And waited. And waited.

Tonight, was supposed to be like any other. A rare night off from their duties. No mission on the horizon, no danger lurking around every corner. The team wasn’t together, except for you. You suggested going to a bar nearby for a drink and a break from the constant grind of life in the compound. Bucky had decided, almost reluctantly, to say yes.

Bucky had, of course, known you cared. In all the small moments, like how you would always check in on him, ask him about his dreams or how he was really feeling. And the way your eyes lingered on him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

I know you love me, he thought. I know it.

But Bucky never had the nerve to say it out loud. And now, here he was, sitting across from you at the bar, staring into his glass of whiskey, wishing he could just reach out and touch your hand without the world falling apart around him.

He was far too aware of how close you were, and yet how far away you still seemed.

You were laughing, your voice light and full of life. You always seemed to shine brighter when you were in this mood, the weight of the world lifted, even if only for a moment. But Bucky could see the flickers of doubt in your eyes. Could see the way you kept looking over at him, waiting for something.

Maybe tonight was the night you’d say it. Maybe tonight you’d do what Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do.

But as he watched you, a strange feeling began to take hold. A spark of jealousy. It was a ridiculous thing, he knew. But it wasn’t about you. It wasn’t about the way you looked at other people—it was about the way you looked at him and didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything.

It was then that a woman approached him.

Bucky didn’t want to be rude. He’d never been the type to just turn someone down, but when the woman slid onto the seat next to him, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, he didn’t feel the usual discomfort. Instead, he felt an odd sense of power and control, maybe.

She was bold, confident. The way she laughed, the way she touched his arm, the way she spoke to him, it all felt like a challenge. A test. And before he could stop himself, he realized something. He wasn’t afraid of this woman. He wasn’t uncomfortable.

But you were.

He saw the way you stiffened in your seat, the way your smile faltered. You hadn’t said a word, but Bucky could tell, he knew. You were jealous.

And for some reason, that made his heart pound. A dark thought crept into his mind, ‘Maybe this is how it’ll happen. Maybe I can make you admit it. Maybe I can get you to finally say what we both know is true.’

The woman leaned in closer, her fingers brushing his. Her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered, “So, what do you say? Care to dance?”

Bucky glanced at you once more. You were still staring at him, but now, there was a mix of frustration and hurt in your eyes. His breath caught in his throat. He should stop this. He should turn away. But a dangerous impulse surged through him.

“Sure.” he said, standing up without another word, letting the woman take his hand and pull him toward the dance floor.

He could hear your breath hitch from across the room. He could feel your gaze burning and intense. But he didn’t break. Not yet.

They moved in close as the music shifted, her body pressed against his. It was all a game now, a game Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to play but couldn’t help himself from continuing. Every move he made, every gesture, was designed to make you feel something. To make you feel what he had felt for so long ‘the ache.’ The longing. The desperate desire for something more.

But as they danced, his thoughts were on you. Only you. And all the ways he had hurt you without ever realizing it.

You were standing now, getting your things, heading for the door. And Bucky’s chest clenched as he realized something. He couldn’t let you go. Not like this. Not anymore.

“We are done!” he said to the woman, his voice sharp as he brushed past her, heading toward you.

The cool night air hit him as he caught up to you just outside the bar.

“Doll, wait,” he said, his voice catching in his throat. “Where are you going?”

You didn’t turn around, didn’t even slow down. “I’m going back to the compound, Bucky. I’m done.” Your voice was quiet, but it was laced with finality. “I’m done pretending. Done watching you with her.”

“I’m going back to the compound,” you repeated, your voice a little too calm, too controlled. “I need to clear my head. I think I’ll go check in with Steve.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in the air. Bucky froze.

You hadn’t expected it, Bucky was always so controlled, so guarded. But there was something in his eyes now. Something darker. The breath you’d taken in to steady yourself suddenly caught in your throat.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice was low, tight with barely contained emotion. His grip on your wrist tightened, and you could see his jaw clench, the muscles beneath his skin rippling with barely restrained anger. “You’re going back to Steve?”

You nodded slowly, avoiding his gaze. You had no idea why, but you couldn’t meet his eyes right now. Maybe it was because you could feel his anger building, and it made you uneasy.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound indifferent, but even to your own ears, the words felt hollow. “I’ll be fine, Bucky. I just need some space.”

You tried to pull away, but his grip on your wrist tightened, pulling you back toward him. His eyes locked onto yours, and there was something in the depths of his gaze something primal that made your breath catch.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled, his voice rough, his tone clipped. “You’re not going back to Steve. Never ever!”

His hand moved to your other wrist, and before you could protest, he spun you around, backing you up against the cold brick wall of the alley. You gasped at the suddenness of it, the sharp heat of his body pressing against you. The force of it left you breathless, but it wasn’t just the physical contact that left you feeling winded, it was the storm swirling in Bucky’s eyes.

“I don’t care about your games, doll,” Bucky continued, his voice now a dangerous whisper. “I don’t care if you’re trying to protect yourself or play it safe. You don’t get to walk away from this. Not after all these months. Not after I’ll final say what I should’ve said the first goddamn time I saw you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as Bucky’s breath came faster now, his face inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the anger and frustration practically crackling in the air between you. His hand was on the wall next to your head, caging you in, his body pressing into yours like he was trying to hold you there, to make you listen.

“Don’t you dare go back to Steve!” he snarled. “I know what you’re trying to do. I know what you’re hiding from. But don’t you dare tell me you’re choosing him. Not when we both know what’s between us.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, a jolt of panic rising up in your chest. You had to get away from him, from this. But somehow, the words felt wrong. He was right. Something had shifted tonight, everything had shifted tonight. And the more you tried to run from it, the more you realized that you were just as tangled up in it as he was.

You shook your head, trying to pull away from his grip. “Bucky, stop. Just stop.”

But he didn’t. His hand moved from the wall to your face, cupping your jaw with surprising gentleness. His thumb stroked over your skin, the touch almost tender despite the fury that was still burning in his eyes. It was like he was trying to hold on to you, trying to keep you from slipping away.

“I’ve spent months pretending I didn’t want you,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and raw. “I’ve spent months watching you with him, keeping my distance, telling myself it was enough just being close to you, just being around you. But it’s never been enough, Doll. It’s never been enough, and I can’t do it anymore.”

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world stood still.

You swallowed hard, fighting the surge of emotions that were building inside you, fighting the tears threatening to break free. You had never seen Bucky like this so raw, so vulnerable, so… angry. It terrified you, but in a way, it also made you realize just how deeply he cared for you. How much he had always cared for you.

His grip on your face tightened, but there was no anger in his eyes now, only something softer, something that made your heart beat even faster. “I don’t want to claim you, Doll. I want to have you. I want you to choose me.”

Before you could respond, Bucky’s lips crashed into yours again, desperate and urgent. It was no longer a question, no longer a plea. It was an answer. His hands slid to your back, pulling you into him with such force that you could feel his heart racing against yours.

The kiss was everything every unspoken word, every hidden desire, every emotion they had both kept buried for so long. Bucky was done hiding, done pretending, and as you kissed him back with equal fervor, you knew there was no going back from this.

“Don’t go back to him,” Bucky whispered against your lips, his voice thick with need. “I’m not letting you go.”

You didn’t know what to say. The words felt like they were stuck in your throat. You had always thought you’d have time to figure this out, but now that the truth was out there between you, out there between him, you knew that there was no more time for pretending. No more time for games.

You pressed closer to him, your hands threading through his hair as you kissed him again, and in that moment, you realized there was only one thing that truly mattered.

Bucky dragged you in the room at the backside of the bar.

Without warning, he pins you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. His hands cup your face, holding your gaze captive.

He presses himself closer, one thigh between your legs. His hands move from your face to your hips, gripping them firmly. His lips graze your ear as he speaks, his voice a low grumble. “I'm going to show you exactly how much I want you, right here, right now.”

His mouth closes on your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You feel his fingers slipping under the hem of your tee, tracing a path of fire along your waist. “I've wanted you for so long, you have no idea. Watching you, smelling your scent, feeling your touch... it's been driving me crazy.”

His lips move down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of hot kisses along the way. One of his hands moves up to cup your breast, his thumb gently circling your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra.

You let out a gasp, arching into his touch. Your body is responding to his every move, awakening a need you've kept buried for far too long. Bucky smiles against your skin, enjoying the way he's unraveling you piece by piece.

“You like that, don't you? Feeling my hands on you, my mouth on your skin.” He whispers in your ear before capturing your earlobe between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His other hand slides under your skirt, trailing up your thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your breath hitches, your legs growing weak as Bucky's touch becomes more and more brazen.

He chuckles lowly, satisfied to see you coming undone under his hands. “You're so responsive... so sensitive. I love seeing you like this, completely at my mercy.”

He spins you around, pressing your front against the wall. You feel his weight press into your back, his hands roaming everywhere, claiming you as his own.

“I'm going to make you mine, here and now. There's no stopping this, no denying what's been boiling between us for so damn long.”

His lips find the nape of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin. His free hand slides down your stomach, resting just at the waistband of your panties. The contact is almost too much, your mind reeling from the barrage of sensations.

“I want you so badly... Can I have you? Right here, right now?” He asks, his voice a deep, raspy whisper. He's poised on the edge, waiting for your answer, his body tense with anticipation.

You can't find the words to speak, too overwhelmed by the storm of emotions and sensations he's stirring within you. Instead, you respond by arching your back, pressing yourself against him, wordlessly signaling your consent.

Bucky lets out a guttural growl, the sound filling the air. He doesn't need anything more than that. His hands move with newfound urgency, peeling away the layers of fabric separating you from him.

He turns you around, his expression darkened with desire. He looks at you hungrily, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. His hands run up your sides, tracing the curves of your body, committing every detail to memory.

“You're so beautiful... So goddamn perfect.” His words are punctuated by small, lingering kisses along your collarbone, across your chest, down along your stomach. You're lost in the sensation, your body on fire under his touch.

He sinks to his knees in front of you, his lips continuing their exploration of your body. He kisses and nips at the tender skin of your inner thighs, teasing and tantalizing you with every touch.

“I want to taste you... I need to taste you...” He husks, his hands wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer. You can feel his breath on your core, hot and eager, making you shiver in anticipation.

His tongue darts out, tasting you lightly, just enough to send a rush of pleasure through you. You gasp, your fingers threading into his hair, holding him close. Bucky smiles against your flesh, enjoying how responsive you are to his ministrations.

He alternates between soft, almost chaste kisses and more firm, calculated licks. He's enjoying the taste of you, the sounds of your moans and gasps. His hands grip your thighs, holding you firm while his mouth works magic, making you moan obscenely.

“You taste so good... Better than I ever imagined.” He lifts his gaze, meeting your eyes. The raw hunger in his expression takes your breath away.

You want to speak, but your mind is a jumbles mess, unable to form a coherent word.

“You're driving me crazy, doll. I want to devour you, to make you mine in every way possible.”

And then he does. He dives in, his mouth devouring you in a frenzy of passion determined to bring you closer to the edge.

Your gasps turn into cries of pleasure, your body writhing under his skilful mouth.  Bucky's hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he brings you closer to your climax.

The world seems to spin around you, your senses overwhelmed by the pleasure Bucky is giving you. He's relentless, pushing you higher and higher, determined to give you more than you ever dreamed of.

His tongue works relentlessly, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh, anchoring you on the ground.

Just as your were about to come, Bucky suddenly pulls away, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with desire. He climbs to his feet, pinning you against the wall once again

“I need to be inside you... Now.”

He's barely able to get the words out, his voice thick with need. He captures your mouth in a fierce kiss, his hands already pushing your skirt up around your waist.

His body presses against yours, the hard length of him rubbing against your core. You can feel the heat and strength of him, the evidence of his desire poking you.

“I need you, need this... I need you now..” He repeats the words like a mantra, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck, your ear.

He pulls you around, turning you to face the wall once again. You feel the cool surface against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his body behind you.

“I'm not going to be gentle.” He warns, his hands gripping your hips, pulling them back against him.

You feel him against you, hard and eager, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hips move against yours, and you can feel just how much he wants you, how badly he needs you.

“Can you take it? Can you handle me like this?” He asks, one hand traveling up your spine, his fingers tracing the line of your vertebrae. His touch is demanding, possessive, but somehow still tender, as if he's afraid he'll hurt you.

You manage to nod, too far gone with pleasure to form words. Bucky lets out a low, satisfied sound, his mouth nipping at your shoulder as his hand slides around to your front.

He cups your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple, teasing and provoking.

“I'm going to take you, right here, just like this.” He growls, his hips pressing against yours.

You can feel him against you, his body poised and ready, the tip of his cock, teasing your entrance. “Are you ready for me?” He asks, his lips against your ear, his breath hot and urgent.

You can only manage a small, breathless moan in response, your body yearning for him to take you, to make you his own.

“I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me... That you need me...” His words are a needy, almost desperate plea, his self-control hanging by a thread.

You find your voice, forcing the words out despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “I want you... I need you... Please...”

“That's all I needed to hear.” The words are a rough, guttural grunt, the last vestiges of his restraint snapping. He positions himself behind you, the head of him rubbing against your entrance.

His hands grip your hips again, holding you in place. He's so close, so very close... But still, he waits, wanting to make sure you're ready for the next step.

“Just tell me if it's too much, okay? If I go too far, I want to know.” He whispers the words, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability, a hint of doubt, despite the powerful, animalistic way he's holding you.

You nod, your body thrumming with anticipation. You trust him, trust him not to hurt you, and that trust makes all the difference. You push back against him, signaling your readiness in the most primal way possible.

He lets out a low, gravelly moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. He needs this as much as you do, maybe even more. “God, I can't wait any longer...”

He pushes forward, slowly, carefully. He's being as gentle as he can be, wanting to give you time to adjust to the intrusion. But it's torture for him, the heat, the tightness, the way you're clenching and squeezing him, enveloping him in a way he's never felt before.

“You're so damn tight... So perfect...” He groans the words, his body moving involuntarily, the pleasure too much to resist. His hands grip your hips tighter, his mouth trailing kisses along your back, your shoulders, your neck. He can't get enough of you, his body moving in a rhythm that's old as time itself.

“You feel so good. I never knew it could be like this.” He mutters the words against your skin, his voice thick with ecstasy.

He picks up the pace, his body moving more urgently now, following the pull of pleasure that's driving him onward. His hands are everywhere, caressing and touching, worshiping every inch of you like a man possessed.

“I could stay inside you forever. I never want to let you go.” He murmurs the words into your ear, his voice ragged and broken. He's lost in the moment, in the pleasure, in you.

You reach a hand back, tangling your fingers into his hair, holding onto him like an anchor in the storm. All the rights and wrongs, thrown out of the window.

“Don't let go... Don't ever let go.” He whispers, his lips finding your neck, the skin there already tender from his earlier attentions. His movements become rougher, more frenzied, as if he's desperate to get even closer to you, to merge himself with you in every way possible.

“I need you... I need you so damn much...” The words are a broken chant, gasped into your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

He's moving even faster now, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air, the only break in the silence apart from your moans and gasps. The pleasure is building, growing stronger and stronger with every thrust, threatening to consume you both. You can feel yourself close to the edge, teetering on the very precipice of ecstasy. Bucky knows it too, he can sense it, sense the mounting tension in your body.

“You're close... I can feel it. I'm so close...” He growls the words, his voice tight with the effort to hold back, to keep control for just a little while longer.

“I want to hear you say it... I want you to let go... Tell me you're mine.” His voice is harsh and ragged, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his release.

You struggle to find the words, to form a coherent thought amidst the haze of pleasure. “Y-yours.. I'm... Yours...”

The words send a wave of pleasure through Bucky, his hips twitching involuntarily at the sound of your surrender. “Say it again... I need to hear it again…”

“Yours... I'm yours, Bucky... All yours...” You gasp the words, your voice quivering with the force of your ecstasy.

That's all it takes. Your surrender, your declaration of ownership, it breaks the dam that's been holding him back. “Mine... You're mine... All mine...” He repeats the words like a mantra, his body moving with a new fervor, a new intensity.

“Steve won’t take care of you like I can.” He thrust, “All I have to do is…” he hits you with another powerful thrust, messing up with your senses. “Make a sad face and remind him of my past!” He hits another powerful thrust, and the voice you make is between a cry and a moan. “He will happily give you to me!”

He buries his face in your neck, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. When he speaks again, his voice is a possessive, guttural growl, thick with desire. “And don't you ever forget it.”

His lips find yours again, claiming your mouth in a kiss that's hard and demanding. He's drowning in you, in this moment, the world around you reduced to nothing but the heat and the friction and the pleasure.

He's close, so close, but he won't give in, won't let go until he's brought you to your release, until he's given you everything he can give.

“Come for me, doll... Let go... Give yourself to me... I want to feel it, feel you...” His words are a rough, ragged plea, a demand made out of pure need. He's holding back, waiting for you to reach your peak, his body taut and trembling with the effort to hold back his own pleasure.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, balanced between light and dark, pleasure and pain, sanity and madness.

“Let go... Just let go... I've got you...” The words, the promise, they're enough to push you over the edge. You shatter, your body arching against his, a cry of ecstasy tears from your lungs. The world spins around you, your release crashing through you like a tsunami, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Bucky's there, holding you against him, his arms wrapping around, holding you up, keeping you from collapse. He's still hard inside you, so close to his own climax.

“God, you're so perfect... I've never experienced anything like this before...” His voice is gruff and broken, his breath hot against your neck as he pulls you flush against him. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his body trembling with need and restraint. “I need you.... I need to let go... you will let me come in you, won’t you? You will be a good girl for me, right doll?”

You nod, your body still thrumming with pleasure as you push back against him, signaling your absent-minded consent.

“You're going to be the death of me, woman...” His words are a rough whisper, a promise and a threat all at once. His grip tightens around you, his body tense and coiled like a spring. “Just a little more... just a little longer... I need to give you everything...”

He buries his face in your hair, his breath coming in jagged pants now, his body taut and trembling with the effort to hold back just a little longer.

“Almost there.... almost... I'm so close...” The words are a ragged gasp.

He let out a low, guttural groan, his body tensing against yours, his arms pulling you tight against him. “God, I... I can't... I'm...” he doesn't finish the sentence. Instead, he buries his face in your hair, muffling his moan against your shoulder as his body tightens and spasms, his release washing over him like a tide, powerful and consuming.

He holds you close as he comes down, his body trembling with the aftershocks, his breath warm against your skin. “God... that was... incredible...” The words are a rough whisper, his voice thick with emotion. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin, as if he can't bear to let you go for even a moment.

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, as if he can't bear to have you any further than an inch away from him. “You're amazing, you know that?”

He nuzzles your neck, his lips leaving tender kisses along the sensitive skin there. He's so gentle, so different from the rough, desperate man who'd been consumed by need a few moments ago. As he sees his release dripping from between your legs, his eyes darken, making him feel more possessive about you.

“Mine...” He mutters the word against your skin, his voice thick with possessiveness. He knows it's probably a bit irrational, but he can't help it. He needs to express his claim over you, his desire to protect and own you in every way imaginable.

He then moves his fingers on your thigh, collecting some of his release on his fingers, bringing them closer to your mouth, a silent order.

You know what he wants, what he's demanding, even if he doesn't say the words aloud. Your eyes meet his, holding his gaze, as you slowly bring your hand up to wrap around his wrist, drawing his fingers into your mouth.

“Good girl…” He murmurs the words as he watches you, his eyes darkened by a possessive, primal need. He loves how submissive you are in this moment, how willing and eager you are to please him.

He holds your chin, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips, feeling the glide of his own release against them. “You have no idea what you do to me, doll. You make me lose all control. And I love it…”

He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that's equal parts tender and possessive. He can taste himself on your lips, and the thought just makes him want you more, more fiercely than before.

He pulls back enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming faster now, his body stirring once more. “I swear, doll, you're going to be the death of me...”

He captures your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you, marking you as his in every way he can think of.

Little do you know, about the real possessiveness he feels about you. Bucky is already planning to take you far away from everyone. To keep you all to himself. While you are already lost in the kiss and afterglow of the sex, Bucky is already planning about the future.

He kisses you again, with a fierce intensity, his hands roaming over your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. He's thinking of all the ways he wants to have you, all the ways he wants to make you his. He's already made up his mind. You're not just a passing fancy, or a distraction. You're his now, and he's not going to let you go. Not ever.

He then sits on the couch with you, while you rest in his arms, he picks out his phone preparing to take you away. He types out a quick message, his hands still caressing your skin, his eyes never leaving your face.

He's arranging for a secure location, somewhere remote, somewhere he can keep you safe and, more importantly, all to himself.

“My doll.”

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[darnell-la]

Logan in a rut has me brain rotted. I’d love if you could write something about this. I think he would try and isolate himself not matter what but it gets to the point where he can’t hold back anymore and needs relief. Idk if he would be more possessive and rough or if he would end up whiny and desperate almost subby.

note: this is a younger Logan Howlett who ends up a bit subby. he would 100% beg the reader to help him because he would be too embarrassed and shy to just man up and dominate her (we have different thoughts of Logan almost every day).

we will be worrying more rut!logan once we get caught up with our college work. we wanna make bro nasty…

———

Logan’s time has come. He hoped it wouldn’t show, but every day that passed, it gets worse. The first day, all he had to do was rub one out, but after the second, he knew he was fucked.

He couldn’t help himself. He fucked his pillow. The man was beyond fucked up that night. He had ripped his pillow open with his claws and buried his cock inside, moaning the girl's name like he’s never before.

Y/n and Logan had been friends for years. A little flirting here and there happens. They might even get a bit touchy but never have they sat and talked about what they were. Especially since the man was known for keeping his flirt up with Jean.

Logan wasn’t surprised when the only person he could think of was y/n. She was pretty, her body always sent a shock through his own, her eyes would have him lost in seconds, and she was the only one around here with common sense.

At times, he hated all those good things about her. Like now. He’s sitting across from her in the kitchen, watching her sip on her drink and watch YouTube on her phone.

All the innocent things she does, makes him so damn hard. He can’t help himself. “G-Goodnight,” Logan said as he got up to leave. He needed to rub one out again. Maybe he’d sneak into her room and cum on her sheets. He needed something that was close enough to her.

“Aw, I was gonna ask if you could walk and get some wood with me, but I’ll get it myself. Goodnight, Logan!” She smiled at the man before he turned the corner, needing to get out of there.

He hoped he could get himself to go upstairs without struggling. Without turning back around to beg Y/n, he couldn’t hold it after her thought of her saying she’d be getting wood tonight.

It’s been almost an hour, and Logan is sitting on the stairs, cock pulsing through his thick jeans. He swore his balls were blue already.

He almost got up to get this over with and grab y/n, pulling her somewhere to at least cum on her face, but he heard the lights cut off in the kitchen.

He peaked around the corner, seeing y/n walk down the hallway and out of the mansion to do her night walk for some wood.

“Fuck,” the man groaned, already thinking of how good he’ll be feeling once he gets his hands on her. He needed to touch her. It’s only been a few short days, but he can’t control it anymore.

The man stalked behind y/n, making sure she wouldn’t sense anything behind her as she walked through the woods with a huge bag to carry back a few dry sticks.

Logan shook his head at the sight of her headphones, knowing she couldn’t hear a thing around her. This was a safe place, but now that he was going through this feeling from hell, it wasn’t anymore. At least for her.

Y/n placed her bag down and took her headphones out before picking up thick and dry wood that she could use for the fire tomorrow night. The way she sang, only made the man want her more. He needed her now.

“Hey, y/n?” Logan spoke, making y/n jump from the unexpected presence of someone else. “Oh, god! Hey, Logan,” the girl smiled up at him as he walked towards her, looking down.

“I-I know this is kind of a weird time, but I need to ask you a question,” Logan said, feeling nervous now that she’s right here. “Yes, ask me anything,” she smiled as she shifted her body towards him.

“Fuck, I — Y/n, I’m going rough a rut,” the man blurted out. This was not a part of his plan. He was going to turn y/n around and shove his cock in her mouth before carrying her back to the mansion, but now he’s stuck.

“Oh — I-I don’t really know what that means, but I can still help you,” she said. “Y/n, it hurts,” the man spoke. His voice came off as a beg which made y/n feel sad for him, even though she had no idea what hurt.

“What is it, Lo? Tell me, and I’ll help you,” she went to get up, but Logan stepped towards her and placed a hand on her head, softly pushing her back down. “It hurts,” the man shifted her head just a little, making her realize his print was right in front of her face.

“Logan,” she said, loss of words at the sight of how hard his cock tried fighting through his jeans. “I-I don’t know what to do about that. Maybe take some pills. Cool it down?” She suggested, but he shook his head.

“Need you, y/n. I need you,” the man said low, needing her to touch him. “I-“ the girl cut herself off, taking a deep dive into her thoughts. The man sounded like he was in horrible pain. He was a friend, so this wouldn’t be bad, right?

“Okay, but I don’t know if it’ll help,” she said, not knowing that this would be more than enough. Y/n slowly reached up to unbuckle his belt. She could see his legs shaking a little from how nervous he was.

He had no idea what came over him. At first, he was going to get what he wanted. Use her like an animal, but now — Seeing her like this and willing to help him, made him feel better. She was going to take care of him.

“P-Please hurry,” the man begged as her hands slid down his clothes cock through his boxers after his shorts fell to his knees. “Did you cum?” Y/n asked, confused but the wet patch was only pre cum. A lot of pre cum.

“P-Please, y/n, fuck,” the man balled his fists, trying to keep himself from crumbling right then and there. He needed to leak in her mouth. No place else. Only her mouth.

“Okay, okay,” y/n worried as she finally pulled his cock out, and god, was he hurting. The veins that covered his cock, showed like crazy. His tip was sticky. His balls were stiff and ready to explode.

“Baby, please!” The man begged louder. Y/n quickly wrapped her lips around his cock and sunk down to take him all in. Well, as much as she could. He was very big.

“G-God,” the man breathed out as his head tilted back. “Oh my god, thank you. Thank you so fuckin’ much, baby,” Logan covered his face with his hands as his heart raised, feeling himself close.

“Oh, fuck, baby — yes,” the man moaned as she quickens her paste, slurping and coating his cock with her spit as she sucked a big roughly.

“Baby, please, let me cum. P-Please, I need to cum,” the man begged, wanting her to decide what he could do. Y/n nodded her head, not knowing what else to do, but she wanted him to cum. Have wanted to make him feel better.

“T-Thank you,” Logan moans loudly as his col twitched, spilling down the girl's throat. Y/n continued, sucking the man as his eyes crossed from the feeling of her emptying his sack.

“G-God,” he couldn’t keep himself together. She was so good at this. He wished he could have this every night before he went to bed.

“S-So good, y/n. So fuckin’ good,” the man let the woman know how great she was. Y/n’s glossy eyes looked up at him, feeling herself grow wet, but she knew she could deal with it herself.

“Get up, baby. Needa takes you back to my room,” Logan pulled y/n to her feet. Confused, the young lady allowed him to throw her over his shoulders.

“I can smell you, and I don’t want to leave you leaking for the night,” Logan said as he walked back towards the mansion. “I’ll be fine, Logan. I-I need to head to bed,” y/n spoke, a bit nervous about this all.

She thought that after she did him this small favor, that would be it. He had other plans. He wasn’t letting her go.

“You’ll sleep with me tonight. Tomorrow we’ll move your stuff to my room so you can sleep there every night,” the man thought way further than she thought.

“I don’t know if we can do that. We’ll have to tell Charles about our shared room, meaning everyone has to know, and I don’t know-“ she tried saying, but he cut her off.

“Baby, please. I’m fine with everyone knowing about what happened tonight. I can’t ignore how much I need you anymore,” Logan admitted.

“What if this happened again? What if I couldn’t walk to you from how hard I was? You do this to me, baby, so I need your help — I need you,”

Y/n sighed to herself then accepted what he wanted. Logan gave the girl a small peck on her side as he continued walking towards the mansion.

[meinii]

“mine.”

summary: Caleb can be mean, especially when he gets jealous

content: SMUT (18+), possessiveness, jealousy, underwear gets ripped,teasing, begging, he cums inside, breeding

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

you went out partying with your friends, it was supposed to be a calm girls night

or at least that’s what you had told Caleb.

he also had a night out with his friends, little did you know– you would’ve ended up in the same club.

you were sipping your drink, dancing with some stranger and just enjoying your night

unaware to you, someone on the other side of the room was not enjoying his night at all.

his eyes glued on you, the sway of your hips, the way your lips hugged the straw from your drink and, of course, the guy who kept trying to touch you.

he was fuming, thoughts running in his head, he wanted to punch that loser who got the honor to dance with you, he wanted to pull you away and remind you that you’re his, and only his.

suddently you felt a warm body touching your back, his hands clinging around your hips and pushing you towards him as you looked over– Caleb was here.

he was staring at the guy with a killer stare, the guy getting the signal just leaves you two alone, he doesn’t really need that trouble

“calm girls night uh?” he whispered in your ear

you swallowed hard, your body tensing as Caleb’s grip on your hips tightened. the heat of his breath tickled your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his voice was low, controlled—but you could hear the underlying edge of irritation.

you turned around slowly, forcing a small, guilty smile. “it was supposed to be,” you murmured, placing a hand on his chest as if that would calm him.

Caleb let out a sharp exhale, his jaw clenching as his eyes flickered down to your barely-there dress, then back up to your lips

“didn’t look that way from where I was standing” his fingers traced small circles on your hip, but the possessive grip never eased.

you glanced over at his group of friends, who were watching with amused smirks, clearly enjoying the show. your own friends were nowhere to be found, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“are you mad?” you asked, tilting your head, knowing damn well he was.

his eyes darkened, and he leaned in until his lips nearly brushed your ear.

“you tell me,” he murmured “do I look like a man who enjoys watching his girl dance with another guy?”

your breath hitched. Caleb was intense—he always had been. but something about seeing him like this, raw with jealousy, sent thrill through you.

before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and started leading you through the crowd. “where are we going?” you asked, your heart racing.

he didn’t stop, didn’t even look back as he replied, “somewhere I don’t have to watch other guys put their hands on what’s mine.”

he led you to his car, still opening the passanger seat door for you– he’s angry not a brute

the tension in the car was suffocating, thick with unspoken words and Caleb's frustration. his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched as his eyes stayed fixed on the road. the muscles in his forearms flexed with every sharp turn, his grip tightening each time he replayed the scene from the club in his head.

you shifted in your seat, your skin still warm from the way his hands had claimed you on the dance floor. he was pissed —but you could tell it wasn't just anger. it was something deeper, something primal. he hated feeling like he had to compete for you. hated the idea of someone else touching what was his.

"Caleb," you finally spoke, your voice softer than you expected.

his fingers twitched against the wheel, but he didn't respond.

you reached out, resting your hand on his thigh. that got a reaction. his jaw ticked, his grip on the wheel tightening as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

"you're mad," you said, as if it wasn't obvious.

he let out a low, humorless chuckle. "mad doesn't even begin to cover it."

you bit your lip, suppressing the smirk that threatened to form. you should probably feel guilty, but a part of you-the reckless, teasing part-liked seeing him like this.

possessive. needing to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

the car pulled up to his house, and before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Caleb was already out, slamming the driver's side door shut. he walked around to your side, yanking the passenger door open, and suddenly he was leaning in, his face inches trom yours.

"out," he ordered, voice low and firm.

Your breath hitched, but you obeyed, stepping out of the car as he shut the door behind you. the moment you turned to face him, his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"you think this is funny?" he muttered, his voice dripping with frustration, his eyes searching yours.

you swallowed hard, the heat of his body against yours sending a thrill through you. you knew you shouldn't push him, but something about seeing him this possessive and jealous was making it difficult to resist.

"I..." you began, but your words trailed off as you felt the heat of his breath against your neck. his lips brushed against your skin, a featherlight caress that sent shivers down your spine.

Caleb's grip on your waist tightened as he leaned in even closer, his mouth moving to the sensitive spot just below your ear. he nipped softly at the skin, and you let out a small gasp, unable to resist the wave of desire coursing through you.

Caleb pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intent and heated. "inside" he commanded, his voice a low rumble

without another word, he took your hand and led you to the house, his grip firm and possessive.

as you walked into the house, you felt the heavy weight of Caleb's presence behind you. every step you took seemed to ignite the tension between you.

once inside, Caleb closed and locked the door behind you, his eyes raking over your body

you could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way it traced every curve of your body, as if he was memorizing every inch of you

Caleb crossed the distance between you in two strides, his hands cupping your face as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss

his mouth was hot and demanding, his tongue tangling with yours as he backed you up against the wall.

he broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, "mine." before his mouth was on yours again

he walked you backwards towards his bedroom, his body pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your skin.

It was like he was trying to erase any trace of that other guy who had touched you, replacing it with his own claim

Caleb pushed you onto the bed, his body looming over yours as he followed you down. he kissed you like a man starved, his tongue and teeth leaving no inch of your skin unexplored

he pulled back slightly, his hands glided down your sides, skimming over the fabric of your dress, teasing the skin beneath.

he leaned in, his lips tracing a path along your collarbone, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh

“you look so damn good in this dress,” he murmured, “I should’ve been the one dancing with you tonight”

his fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, slowly inching it higher, revealing more of your thighs

“but you weren’t thinking about me, were you?” he asked, his lips hovering close to your ear

"I was just having fun" you muttered, your voice breathless as his fingers traced patterns along your inner thigh, so close and yet so far from where you wanted him

Caleb let out a mocking chuckle, his mouth descending to your neck, his lips hot and firm against your skin

"is that so?" he murmured, his hand moving higher, his touch teasing and maddening.

he suddenly withdrew, his eyes dark with determination.

“now,” he said, “I’ll be the one having fun.”

with a swift, fluid motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, his hands pinning your wrists to the bed

without any warning, his hands moved to the hem of your panties, and with a swift, determined motion, he tore the fabric apart. the sound of it ripping echoed in the room, and the feel of it sent a shiver down your spine

he put his tip near your entrance, teasing you

a moan came out of you “please–“

“say it,” he started playing with your clit “say that you’re mine”

that’s all he wanted, you’re his and everyone needs to know it

“I’m yours” your breath unsteady “I’m yours Caleb, please”

a satisfied smirk was plastered on his face as he finally buried himself inside you, he was giving it to you so hard you couldn’t help but keep moaning his name as your eyes rolled back

“I’ll make sure everyone knows it” his voice low

“I’ll mark you for life” his pace becoming sloppier as you start pushing your hips back into him

“we’ll build the perfect family and everyone will know how easily you come undone under my touch”

so he came inside you, filling you up just like he always dreamed of ૮꒰ྀི > . < ꒱ྀིა

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)

Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.

Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge

Word Count: 6 K

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)

Down Bad

There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.

I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.

Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.

Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.

lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!

When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.

The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.

Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.

I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.

I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.

If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?

God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.

I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.

Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.

Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.

Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.

Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.

I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.

Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7

I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.

"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."

I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.

"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."

My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"

"Shane's getting married."

"That explains the tequila."

I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.

"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."

Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."

“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."

Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."

I sighed.

“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”

I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.

"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."

Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.

Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.

Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.

"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."

Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."

"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."

Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.

But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose

The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.

"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"

I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.

"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.

He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."

He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.

"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.

"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."

Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.

"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."

"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."

I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with

heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.

"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."

"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.

"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."

Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.

As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.

“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."

"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.

"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.

“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.

“Yes.”

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”

“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”

“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.

His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.

I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.

“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.

My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.

And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.

I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.

“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”

His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”

I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”

Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.

“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”

Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.

“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.

Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.

“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”

I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.

“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”

As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.

His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.

“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”

I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.

All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.

“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”

“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”

Spencer’s eyes shifted.

“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.

“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”

I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”

I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.

One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.

“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”

“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”

I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.

I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”

I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”

I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

“My bed’s made.”

Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.

“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”

I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”

“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”

Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.

I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.

Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.

“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.

Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.

I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.

When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”

Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.

“You’re so thick…ah!”

“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”

His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.

It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.

Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”

His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.

“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”

Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.

His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”

I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.

It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.

“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”

My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.

“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.

His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.

The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.

I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.

“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.

“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.

“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.

God, help me. He’s my man.

Taglist: @foxy-eva @reid-ingandweeping @andiebeaword @boldlyvoid

(I know several people asked to be tagged, but if you didn't have that you were above 18 in your blog you won't be tagged in this one!

Please reblog, comment, and like! Feedback and encouragement and interactions are wonderful to receive. Thank you!

[brookediamonds]

you belong to me | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: Axel is a man of few words, however when he meets you, you're all he can think about. When it's time to head to Barcelona for the tournament, you see a new side of possessiveness from Axel you'd never seen before.

based off this edit

Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: smuttt (finally), oral (f receiving), sex, reader is on birth control, possessiveness, man-handling, jealous axel, 18+

Masterlist

(a/n: in honor of part 3 being released tomorrow here is my first ever Axel smut, detailed this time, hope y'all like it!)

gif is not mine

You had spent the last year in Hong Kong, training with the dojo 'The Iron Dragons' also known as the #1 dojo across the world according to the Sekai Taikai.

Being recruited by no other than Sensei Wolf from your last dojo had felt like an honor, you had no idea what it could lead to.

It lead you to be surrounded by other students who were just as talented, if not better than you. One of them being: Axel Kovačević.

He was quiet and closed off at first, but because you were like a moth to a flame, you found yourself drawn to the mystery of him.

You started off with small talk, complimenting him on his work ethic and fast reactive defense.

Eventually Axel let his guard down and realized you were not like the other students here. Everyone else was competitive and only looking out for themselves, whereas you just happened to be talented punching people in the face and wanted to experience a traveling team.

He took to you immediately, appreciating your go-with-the flow persona, and admired your outgoing approach to people.

But when you bring this attitude to Barcelona, Spain, he can't help but feel a knot tighten in his stomach as he watched your sparkly personality shine with other students at the tournament.

You're currently mingling with the male captain of the Cobra Kai team, giving him your best smile and flirty doe eyes as you spoke about how you were enjoying your time here.

Axel watched as the boy moved closer to you making him clench his fist by his sides. He let out a huff of frustration, not being able to withstand the way you were acting any longer.

You looked at him like that, you playfully pushed him when he made a jab at you, you giggled with a hand over your mouth when he made a lame dad joke, and now you were doing all of that with this guy?

No way.

Axel strides over to where you stood, not paying any attention to the dark haired boy across from you, before interrupting you mid-conversation.

"Sensei said we are not to make friends with opponents," Axel's jaw is tight, with his arms crossed over his chest. You bite back a smirk, completely aware of what you were doing.

You knew Axel had been watching your interaction with Kwon, and you wanted him to do something about it.

Kwon scoffed, turning to face the tall man in front of him. "Relax bro, we were just talking."

"It looked more than that," Axel mutters stepping to get into Kwon's face, tilting his head down to tower over the boy you had been flirting with.

"What are you, her boyfriend?" Kwon questions back, squaring up to Axel. You felt your stomach flip as his eyes drifted over to yours, a look of irritation written all over his face.

"Forget this," Axel mumbles with a shake of his head, turning on his heel to walk away. Guilt began to eat your conscious seeing his state.

"Axel," you called out to him as you began to walk after him, no longer paying attention to the Cobra Kai captain.

You turn a corner seeing him standing by the elevators, waiting for the doors to open.

"Axel, what the hell was that?" You ask approaching his side, eyebrows furrowed. You wanted to make him see you, but didn't think he'd actually get confrontational.

"I did not like the way he was looking at you, and you looking at him," Axel exhaled sharply, pressing the up arrow button repeatedly with his thumb.

"You didn't like the way he was looking at me?" You question back to him.

The elevator doors open, a few people filling out, Axel stepping inside once it's empty. You hop in the enclosed box, pressing the close button before anyone else could enter.

"I don't like seeing you with anyone like that," he states his dark blue eyes staying on the silver steel doors in front of him.

Finally, you were getting somewhere.

"Why?" You ask quietly, intertwining your hands behind your back. His eyes finally landed on yours, a feign of innocence held upon your face.

"You know why," he says his tone dropping low. You tilted your head slightly, with a shrug.

"I don't actually," you respond innonectly. "Enlighten me."

Axel is unable to tear his gaze away from you as you stare up at him with the same look you give him back in the dojo when you're taunting him.

He takes two steps forward towards you, his breathing heavy, before grabbing the sides of your face and smashing his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth, feeling a fire erupt in the pit of your stomach.

"I want you," he breathes out between kisses. "And I am done pretending that I don't."

You pull away from him, placing your hands firmly on his chest.

"Well it's about damn time," you smirk up at him. This is what you had been waiting for.

The elevators open revealing the floor you two were staying on, your rooms right across from each others. You saunter over to your room, pulling your key card out rom your back pocket, Axel trailing behind you as he watched your every move through hazy eyes.

"I was worried I wasn't gonna grab your attention," you bite back your grin as you glanced over your shoulder as you swiped your card through the door.

Axel scoffs, realizing this had been all planned. You wanted to get him jealous and confess his feelings for you.

"You set that up didn't you?" He tsk's laying a hand on the doorframe.

"Maybe," you taunt him turning to lean against your now cracked door.

"That was not funny," he says lowly, leaning in to cage you between his body and your hotel door.

You bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes trying to contain the rapid heartbeat in your chest.

"It kind of was," you whisper sliding a hand up his torso slowly. Axel leans his face down to hover over your ear, his hot breath hitting the side of your face gently.

"If you wanted my attention, you should have just asked," he murmured sending shivers down your spine. "Because I don't like sharing."

You suppress a moan, feeling the heat pool between your thighs as he laid a soft kiss beneath your ear.

"And after tonight, I will make sure you know who you belong to," he growls into your warm skin.

Axel trails his nose up your neck, along your jaw, before diving in to connect his lips back to yours.

He wastes no time pushing the door to your hotel room open, guiding you backwards as you continued to explore each other's mouths.

As the door clicked shut, Axel places his large hands beneath your thighs, lifting you effortlessly from the ground before tossing you on to the soft mattress causing you to bounce lightly.

A surprised gasp left your lips as you landed on the bed, but it quickly melted into a breathy laugh.

"I've never seen you like this before," you say with a small smirk tugging on your lips. "I love it."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, his dark blue iris's drinking you in like you were something he had been starving for. You had never had someone look at you the way Axel was right now. It made you feel sexy.

"You love when I what?" He's the one taunting you now. You're suddenly at a loss for words, a blush rising your cheeks as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

"I—uh," you stutter watching him as he moved to place his hands on either side of your head, entrapping you beneath him.

"Use your words," he exhales, his nose lightly brushing up against yours. Your mouth falls open as he teases you by grazing his lips over yours, leaving you aching for his kiss.

As you reach to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he's caught both your hands, slamming them into the mattress, and intertwining your fingers together.

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, giving you small pecks down the side of your face,

"I love, how, mmph—," you moan as he begins to kiss down your neck, softly suckling at a spot above your collarbone, his short hair tickling just under your chin.

"I love when you're possessive," you're finally able to breathe out. An evil grin stretches across Axel's face once he hears your confession.

Pleased with your words, he reconnects his lips with yours, sliding his tongue into your warm inviting mouth.

"Touch me, Axel," you beg him between kisses, your voice needy. Axel didn’t hesitate, he reached for you, his fingers tracing the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath the fabric.

The next few moments blurred into heated whispers and stolen breaths, clothes falling away piece by piece, forgotten on the hotel floor.

"You are so fucking beautiful," Axel murmurs as he kissed his way down your bare thighs.

"Axel," you sighed feeling the cool air hit your damp skin where he pressed his lips, his warm breath fanning across your inner thighs.

"Can I?..." Axel is pulling at the lace of your underwear, his heated gaze meeting yours. You nod without hesitation, lifting your hips up eagerly as he slides the black fabric down your legs.

He repositions himself between your legs, smoothly spreading your thighs apart revealing the most intimate part of you.

"This belongs to me," Axel whispers before licking a stripe up your wet slit making you gasp.

His tongue sent a rush of warmth through your body, your back arching off the bed as he began to delve deeper into your core.

You reached your hands down to run a hand through his soft hair, making Axel hum into your pussy, sending a vibration through you.

Soft moans escaped your mouth as you felt him lapping at your juices, his mouth enveloping you like you were his last meal.

Each flick of his tongue sent you withering, his lips nibbling softly at your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Fuck, Axel," you whimper as he grabbed at your hands, intertwining your fingers together. This pushed you further down on to his tongue, your hips grinding down in to his warm mouth.

You felt the hot burning sensation build in the pit of your stomach, Axel keeping his actions at a fast pace.

"Axel, I'm— I'm gonna—" You're a whimpering mess, face flushed as he sped up his tongue's movements before taking your clit into his mouth sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves.

You let out a cry, your legs trembling around Axel's head as you came undone, a wave of ecstasy running through your blood as the tension released.

Axel worked you through your orgasm, relishing in your mess you were creating. What he created. Not Kwon, or those other guys trying to impress you.

When your legs relaxed, Axel crawled over your body, giving you an opened mouth kiss allowing you to taste yourself.

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" His voice is low and dark making you squirm under his touch. "You wanted me to prove that you are mine?"

You nod breathlessly, heart pounding as his hands trailed up your curved sides, faintly whispering, "yes."

His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a whine leaving your parted lips as he brushed the tip of his cock between your soaked folds.

"You belong to me, and only me," he reminds you before sliding into your tight cunt slowly, you letting out a stuttered gasp.

"Only you," you repeat back to him, your voice shaky and needy. Axel's long thick member stretched you out deliciously, the feeling overwhelming you as he split you in two.

"So tight," he grunts, softly biting into the crevice of your neck. You hoped it would mark so everyone could see. And secretly, so did Axel.

You snake your hands over his shoulders, your nails gently scratching down his back as he thrusted into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size.

When you wrap one of your legs over his waist, Axel takes this opportunity to shift into a deeper, rhythmic pace, almost hitting the end of your cervix due to his length.

Soft moans and cruses tumbled from your mouth with each stroke as Axel grunted in your ear, his face lingering next to yours.

"Feels so good, Axel," you whimper, indulging in the pleasure as he kept his pace steady.

"You feel so fucking good," he praises you, hovering his face above yours. You both lean in to give each other a sloppy kiss, a string of saliva drawing out as you disconnected.

As Axel felt his high about to approach, he reaches down between your legs finding his way to your clit.

Your body jerks feeling him circle at the most sensitive part of you, all while still driving his sensual thrusts.

"I want you to cum with me, baby," he pleads, his fingers drawing fast circles, working to give you the upmost pleasure.

The room filled with your cries, the same fiery feeling growing in your stomach for a second time.

"Axel!" His name is high-pitched as you reached your climax, your whole body trembling as he released into you, letting out a low groan with his nose resting on top of yours.

He rocked his hips into yours as you both came down from your high, panting to catch your breath.

You grab at Axel's face, softly pressing your lips together, letting him know that this was exactly where you wanted to be. That you were his, completely.

"I've always been yours," you whispered against his lips.

His forehead pressed against yours, breath heavy, his hands roaming over your skin lovingly.

"Say it again," he murmured, his voice rough, brushing his nose against yours.

A smile etched across your face before responding softly, "I'm yours."

Axel exhaled sharply as if he had been holding his breath this entire time. His lips found yours again, slower this time, his action filled with something deeper, more emotional.

Once you've untangled yourself from each other, you find yourself perched on top of Axel's chest, slowly tracing random shapes on to his porcelain skin with your pointer finger.

"You okay?" Axel checks in with you, his tone now soft and quiet, all of the tension from earlier, gone.

"I'm perfect," you reassure him, a grin plastered on your lips.

"Good," he murmurs, shifting on to his side, pulling you against his chest, his strong arms encircling you with a quiet protectiveness.

You melt into him, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, fully enjoying this new dynamic you two have uncovered.

---------------------------------------------------------

(A/n: oof i saw that edit on tik tok and my gears were turningggg. anyways, peace out my friends, i shall return tomorrow AFTER i finish the finale in tears :') i don't know how soon i'll be able to update that other fic that's tied in with the series, but i'll do my best to start it tomorrow. until then, hope this was okay!! like, and comment!!)

[f4ggydog]

shauna x reader: is there someone else🔞

minors do not interact nor read! u have been warned!

warnings: nsfw, possessive shauna, toxic shauna, manipulative shauna, controlling shauna, reader uses pussy and cunt as genitalia, fingering, degradation, twisted affirmations, just overall bad friend behavior!

Unsurprisingly, Shauna’s had another fight with Jackie. It’s the daily routine at this point. The two bicker over nonsense and then they make up. That’s how it went and tonight was no different. Only it was kind of different because the argument was in front of a bunch of people, rather than being kept to themselves.

You weren’t sure who started it. Shauna always claimed that Jackie started it, but you know Shauna’s temper could get out of hand in certain moments. Though, you did not believe she always got out of hand. There was nuance to it, some nuance that might be able to save the friendship between the teenage girls if they can’t save themselves.

Shauna trudges over to you. You can’t tell if she’s half drunk or if this slow walking is just part of her being pissed off. Either way, you don’t want to bug her with inquiries. No need to add fuel when there’s already fire.

Shauna approaches you without a word. Her face screams fury and her hands are balled into fists. Should you try to console her or leave her be? She came over to you for a reason. It wouldn’t be abnormal to suggest that she might need some consoling, no?

“You’re a funny girl Shipman,” you say, carefully patting her shoulder. “Hanging out with girls that you don’t like. It’s like you enjoy torturing yourself.”

Shauna doesn’t respond, only shakes her head. However, she nuzzles into your touch and pulls you closer. Clearly it’s a sign that you’re doing something right. So you continue.

“What did Jackie say?” You ask. “How bad was it this time?”

Shauna always seemed to run to you when shit went awry. You were like her secret friend outside of the Yellowjackets that she never spoke about. But, she didn’t know how to explain to you that she didn’t just cause problems with Jackie this time. Now Taissa and Nat currently hated her guts as well. Perhaps without a bad reason, but still temporary hatred nonetheless.

“Can’t wait to go home,” Shauna sighs. “I should’ve never let Jackie convince me to go to a party I never wanted to go to. And stupid fucking Randy had the nerve to talk to me too.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely annoying.”

“He’s not just annoying,” Shauna grumbles. “He literally smells like shit. Like if I was in another continent right now, I would still be able to smell how much his breath stunk. It’s like he’s never heard of brushing his teeth.”

You wince at the description, imagining Randy’s odor traveling through your nostrils. It’s a good thing you never really got to hang out with him. Though, you realize that Shauna had no interest in being his company. She was only forced to stick around him because he’s close with Jackie’s boyfriend. And they were the epitome of Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Or perhaps Tweedle Dum and…Tweedle Dum again.

“Do you have your car with you?” Shauna asks. “Or did a friend drive you here?”

“N-No, no. I took my parents’ car.”

“Do you even have a license?” Shauna snickers.

“Um…” You debate the proper way to answer this question. “Ummm, let’s just say that’s…irrelevant.”

“So the answer is no.”

“Yeah okay,” you sigh. “The answer is no.”

“Don’t care.” Shauna shrugs. “As long as you can get me the fuck out of this place.”

When you both your reach your parents’ car, Shauna hastily hops into the passenger’s seat. She slouches in her seat without even putting her seatbelt on. Her arms are crossed and her lips are turned into a frown.

“So,” you say. “Do you want me to start driving you home or do you just want to stay here?”

“Don’t drive yet,” Shauna demands. “I think we need to talk.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you obey her instructions. However, Shauna’s tone throws you off. Speak about what exactly? Why does she sound like she’s about to break up with you, despite you guys obviously not being in a relationship? 

“Would you ever leave me?” Shauna asks. “Do you have somebody lined up in my place? Am I your second option? Be honest with me.”

“Shauna, what are you on about?” You arch your eyebrow. “No? Look, are you getting self conscious again because of Jackie? I know you have issues with her, but-“

“So, what if I am? You haven’t said anything nice about me the whole night.”

“N-Nothing prompted me to. I-I’m confused. What?”

“You complimented Jackie’s shoes,” Shauna reminds. “You didn’t compliment my shoes. Or my hair. Or my outfit. You didn’t compliment anything about me, but you complimented Jackie.”

“That’s cause I barely saw you the whole night, Shauna. I really think you’re looking too deep into this. Seriously, just relax.”

“You didn’t look for me because you like Jackie more than me,” Shauna asserts. “Admit it. Jackie’s better than me. So you like her more than me. She’s the queen bee so naturally everyone’s gonna flock to her. I get it.”

You stare at her with blatant confusion written on your face. “No Shauna, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I know you more than I know, Jackie!”

“And yet you still complimented her before you complimented me, so clearly I’m not good enough.”

“Shauna,” you sigh. “I don’t know what Jackie said to you at that party, but you’re overthinking this by a mile. And it’s okay if she’s influencing your mind a little bit, but there’s no need to project this on me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Of course you’re trying to defend yourself,” Shauna grumbles. “I’m always the bad guy, aren’t I? I’m always the problem, always the villain! You think of me the same way Jackie does. You secretly hate my guts and only keep me around to torment me.”

The word ‘irrational’ almost slips out of your mouth, but you don’t dare use it. Even if it’s a perfectly accurate way to describe Shauna’s behavior currently.

“Am I pushing you away?” Shauna questions, softer than before. “Are you gonna leave?”

“I’m not going anywhere Shauna,” you reassure your insecure buddy. “Trust me. You’re just…letting whatever Jackie said get into your head. You need to shake all those shitty thoughts out. They’re not worth it.”

“There’s no guarantee that you’ll stay.”

“There’s no guarantee I’ll leave either, Shipman.”

Shauna lowers her head. She glances over at you before firmly pressing her hand on top of yours.

“I don’t wanna go home yet,” Shauna states. “Wanna stay with you.”

“We don’t have to go home yet,” you respond. “Thankfully, my parents aren’t feeling that strict tonight. So, I think they’ll be okay with me staying out a little longer.”

“Yeah,” Shauna murmurs and looks out the window.

She daydreams. She dreams of a world where she doesn’t live in Jackie’s shadow. She dreams of a world where she feels confident enough about her appearance to pursue people. She dreams of a time where she’ll feel genuinely wanted. She imagines a world where she’s the only friend you’ll ever need.

But Shauna’s not sure if her ideal world could ever exist. It remains a fantasy, but if only she could obtain at least some parts of it. She’s not expecting a genie to grant her all three wishes. But one good thing happening to her shouldn’t be so out of reach, right? She still had you. And Shauna’s not aware of how close you think you are with her. But for her own sake, she hopes she’s the person you’d cut off an arm and a leg for.

The drive home is mostly silent. Shauna occasionally leans on your shoulder and you allow her to. It’s the least you could do after she had such a rough night. But during the trip, you can’t shake away this pain in your gut, gnawing at you like it’s trying to send a message. Shauna seemed to have calmed down from her earlier explosion. But, something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time she blew up on you, precisely over Jackie.

The next day, Jackie unexpectedly walks up to you during lunch. She takes a seat by you and whispers.

“Hey, do you know when that essay for Mr. Snyder’s class is due by? Someone told me it’s due tomorrow and I’m kinda freaking out.”

“It is,” you answer Jackie’s question. “But we were given like a week to complete it.”

“A week isn’t enough!” Jackie groans. “Ugh, he always grades so harshly too. I heard the highest grade he’s ever given in his class was an 89.”

Okay, that didn’t seem far fetched. You could only score 80s in Mr. Snyder’s class yourself.

“I haven’t even been paying attention for most of the reading,” Jackie admits. “But it’s not my fault the book is so boring. He doesn’t even try to make it exciting. He reads it in the most monotone voice ever!”

“Did you at least start your outline?” You ask.

“We were supposed to do an outline!?” Jackie gasps. “Shit! Oh, I’m so screwed. I’m so screwed. This asshole is gonna kill me.”

“He’s not gonna kill you.” You roll your eyes. “Just cram through it. Stay up all night if you have to. I know it’s not ideal, but I guess it’ll help you learn your lesson.”

What you don’t realize is that Shauna is eyeing the both of you from the corner of the cafeteria. She looks like an angry dog ready to defend its owner from outsiders. Her eye twitches and her nails dig into her palms.

Shauna instantly gathers that her suspicions were correct. After the conversation last night, she didn’t expect you to speak with Jackie less frequently. She expected you to avoid Jackie altogether. Everyone was turning against her. She was losing the people she so desperately clung onto. Nobody was going to want Shauna’s attention. Everyone was gonna leave her. She was gonna be worse off than Misty fucking Quigley.

How could you do this to her? Did your friendship mean nothing? Was Shauna just a placeholder until someone better came along? Was she worthless to you? All of the worst possible thoughts raced through her head. Shuana immediately jumped to the worst case scenario, as per usual.

But she chooses not to confront either of you. She lets you two have your conversation while she watches from afar. Shauna doesn’t know what the conversation is about and she doesn’t want to know. All she senses is betrayal, attachment to another besides her. And that wouldn’t fly. No, she had to do something to ensure you remembered your place. You were hers, and either Jackie was trying to steal you away from her. Or, you were planning on abandoning Shauna.

When lunchtime ends, Shauna ignores Jackie when she passes her. Jackie calls out Shauna’s name, but Shauna pays her no mind. She storms into class, only you on her mind. She’s got no time for frivolous lessons or pop quizzes or difficult homework assignments. Her main problem right now should only be you.

Class couldn’t go by fast enough. Shauna wishes she had this class with you, but unfortunately she only shares this class with Lottie. Shauna just needs this class and the next one to pass. Then, she can corner you alone. She just needs this class to not go by a snail’s pace.

For Shauna’s last period, the teacher keeps her class behind for a few extra minutes. The woman won’t stop yapping and cared more about getting every note from her lesson out than the kids getting home on time. Finally, the teacher allowed the students to leave and Shauna exited class, finding you waiting for her outside of her classroom.

“Hey,” you say. “Why’d you get out so late?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Shauna adjusts her backpack straps.

“Okay. Well, I figured I’d wait for you.”

“Thanks,” Shauna says in a monotone voice.

She still doesn’t believe you value her enough. You waiting for her outside of class didn’t suffice enough as proof. Shauna was right about you. She was always right. Her stubbornness would be her downfall, just as your helpful attitude towards Jackie would be yours.

“Can we talk?” Shauna asks the dreaded question again.

“You know we can always talk,” you respond. “Um, where do you wanna go? Just talk outside here or….”

“We’ll go where I say we should go.” Shauna’s driving the bus. She’s taking the reins. Shauna practically drags you towards the girls bathroom, already struggling to keep her fury bottled up. She knows once that lid pops off, you’re in for some of the worst wrath of your life.

Shauna shuts the door behind you guys once she’s got you inside. She presses you up against the sink’s counter, her hands digging into your waist.

“I fucking knew it,” Shauna snarls. “I fucking knew it all along. You tried to play me for a fucking fool, but I know better.”

“What are you talking about?” You gasp out, trying to swat Shauna’s hands away. “Have you lost it again?”

“Of course you think I’m just some demented bitch,” Shauna hisses. “You’re trying to make me look stupid. Again. I fucking knew you were thinking of replacing me. I should’ve known.”

“Shauna, where is all this coming from?”

“You were fucking talking to Jackie! Don’t you dare try to deny it. I saw you two. Probably gossiping about me, huh? Probably making me look like a fool?”

“S-Shauna,” you stutter. “I-It’s not what it looks like. She was just asking me about an essay that was due tomorrow. That’s all.”

“Bullshit.” Even though you’re being honest as you can be, Shauna still suggests that you’re lying through your teeth. She can’t trust you. She’s too afraid of losing you to trust your motives.

“Why bullshit? Jackie can’t ask me for homework help?” You state defensively.

“Jackie would’ve asked me!” Shauna declares. “I’m the one with straight As, not you. If Jackie was so panicked over a dumb essay, she would’ve came to me. Why the fuck would she ask you about it?”

“M-Maybe cause she thought you were mad at her. I dunno, Shauna. B-But, I’m telling the truth. I swear.”

Shauna shakes you against the bathroom counter. Talking to her is like trying to get through to a brick wall. This whole conversation was fruitless.

“You think you’re better off without me?” Shauna interrogates. “You think Jackie can be a better friend than me?”

“N-No, I…”

“What about that time you stayed over at that classmate’s house because you wanted to hook up with them? And I lied to your parents, saying that you were with me? Remember when I covered for you then? All so you could go fuck somebody like some sort of whore?”

“D-Don’t call me that,” you whimper, Shauna’s face dangerously close to your neck.

“You don’t want me to call you that? When you’ve been whoring yourself out for attention? Jackie’s probably your next victim, isn’t she?”

You’re too stunned to speak. You know Shauna’s had a jealous edge to her. But, this went far beyond any ordinary envy. She wouldn’t let you talk with anyone. You were literally her property and she’d punish you if you didn’t respect that.

“Please leave me alone Shauna,” you beg. “P-Please, can we talk about this later? I-I…I don’t want to do this right now.”

“No.” Shauna says firmly. “Since you want to whore yourself out to people, I’m gonna teach you a lesson. It’s what you deserve for not realizing how good you have it.”

Without warning, Shauna stuffs her hand into your pants. She swirls her fingers around until she finds your cunt and runs her digits along your pussy lips.

“Shauna, what are you doing? Are you nuts? What the fuck?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” she husks. “Since you wanna act like a whore, I’ll let you be one.”

Shauna bites down on your neck like a vampire drunk on the thought of your blood. As she nibbles, her fingers trail over your clit, brushing the nub with the lightness of a feather. It’s still enough to make you jump, though.

“But you will only be a whore for me. Nobody else. Just me.”

“Nobody else,” you repeat timidly. “F-Fuck…”

“Are you already enjoying this?” Shauna smirks. “I knew a whore like you would. You may be a whore, but you’re such a good one for letting me play with you like this.”

Shauna uses her other hand to harshly grasp your chin. She sucks and licks over the bruise she created on your neck, admiring the purple spot as evidence of your claiming.

“You’re not even asking me to leave you alone. It’s cause you like this, isn’t it? It’s only natural for a whore like you to enjoy being touched inappropriately. Bet you were wishing Jackie fucked you with her fingers.”

You shake your head. Shauna’s hand shifts downward and squeezes your throat. With her other hand, she inserts two fingers into your dripping pussy, eager and ready for penetration.

“I expect an answer,” Shauna growls. “You might be a slut, but I want you to be a competent one. So answer me. Now.”

“Y-Yes Shauna,” you answer. Though, you’re not entirely telling the truth. “I-I wish she did.”

“Good girl,” Shauna praises, stretching your hole out and scissoring you with her digits. “Loosen up for me, baby. C’mon.”

“Fuck, trying. Trying. I-I’m trying.”

There was a slight soreness at your core, pain mixed with a hint of pleasure. But, Shauna couldn’t care less about your potential suffering. She’s proving a point and you will be her obedient student, whether she has to use force or not.

“There we go,” Shauna encourages, able to pump her fingers faster as you adjust to the intrusion. You exhale, your heart beating rapidly. You felt your mind slowly melting, your head getting fuzzy with all sorts of lewd thoughts.

You make the mistake of letting out a moan too loud. To combat this, Shauna silences you with a fierce kiss to the lips. She bites down on your bottom lip until it’s close to drawing blood and shoves her tongue deep inside of your mouth.

Her fingers curl inside of you and you hump Shauna’s digits for more friction, most of the pain subsiding. Gasp after gasp erupts from your throat, your eyes almost rolling back from how deep Shauna’s thrusts were hitting you. You grab onto her for support, leaning against the bathroom counter as you let her absolutely use you.

“You like this?” Shauna spits. “Tell me how much you like it, my pretty little whore. Tell me how much you enjoy being used like a sex toy for me.”

“L-Love it,” you pant when she pulls away from your mouth. “Fuck, it’s so intense. Can’t take it. Can barely take it.”

“You will take it though,” Shauna demands. “Because that’s what good sluts do. They take what I give them.”

“Yes Shauna,” you whine, feeling your cunt wrap tightly around her fingers. Your pussy was throbbing as squelching sounds filled the bathroom. Your entire body wobbled and you felt your vision blurring.

“You’re already getting close?” Shauna chuckles. “My god, you’re fucking pathetic. It’s perfect. I want you dumb and pathetic just for me, okay? Not Jackie. Not Jeff. Not any of the other girls on my soccer team.”

“Just you,” you reply obediently. “J-Just you. Fuck, fuck. Shauna, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”

“What the fuck are you waiting for, you pretty slut?” Shauna barks. “Cum on my fingers, you filthy girl. Show me how good it feels to give up your innocence for me. Show me that I’m the only one you deserve, the only one you’ll ever need.”

“Fuck!” You cry out, probably loud enough for people outside of the restroom to hear. You coat Shauna’s fingers with your juices as her fingers milk you dry. You don’t even bother biting back your moans or chewing on her shoulder to suppress her noises of desire. You’re lost, in a whole other world where only you and Shauna exist.

Once you’ve ridden out your high, Shauna withdraws her fingers and presses them to your lips. You know exactly what to do. With an opening of your mouth and a flick of the tongue, you clean off Shauna’s digits and embrace the taste of your own fluids.

“You’ll never get rid of me,” Shauna promises, leaning in close to press a kiss to your forehead. It’s a sign of tenderness after the storm, the restoration of tranquility after you’ve been marked as her own pet. She doesn’t need to go hard on you anymore, at least for right now.

“Didn’t plan on it,” you say meekly, still processing your friend’s deeds.

“I know.” Shauna smiles confidently. “There’ll never be another girl like me out there for you.”

Ain’t that the truth.

[heartzfromel]

Anges is a detective and must work with his ex?Reader must make a suspect speak and play a little of his charm Agatha sees red (happy ending)

i love you, i’m sorry

detective!agnes x fem!ex wife!reader

tags; agnes and reader kinda hate each other, touchy agnes, possessive agnes, arguing, rio being nosy, making out, drinking, jealous agnes, idiots in love, happy ending, reader teasing agnes, detective reader

“oh, and agnes?” the chief of westview’s police department spoke, propped up against the detective’s office doorframe.

“uh-huh?” she replied, not fully paying attention as she flicked through her case file for what seemed to be the eight hundredth time today.

“since the murders have been happening in both westview and eastview they wanted to bring someone from eastview over to assist with your investigation.” he explained, almost carefully.

“yeah, fine, whatever.” agnes answered, expecting him to leave, but the chief made no effort to move.

“something wrong, chief?” she asked, confusion and irritation lacing her tone, she really wanted to get back to her work.

“not exactly, i’m just not too sure you’re going to be too happy with who’s been sent over.”

“and why would that be?” anges pressed, shifting in her seat.

“well, it’s just, she’s-“ the chief began, struggling to find the words.

“right here.” you smirked, clicking your tongue as you finished his sentence for him.

the chief left the room instantly, and you kicked the door closed behind you, making your way over to the woman in front of you.

the look on agnes’ face was priceless. her jaw seemed to drop just about as much as her stomach did as she stared at her ex wife for the first time in a year, and she fought with herself to show some form of composure. you wouldn’t be surprised if she got up and started looking for cameras, wondering if vidal was up to her antics again, trying to play some sick joke on her.

“agnes, been a while.” you spoke, maintaining eye contact as you sat yourself onto her desk. as you got comfortable it became painfully obvious that the skirt you had chosen was absolutely the wrong one to wear today. you could’ve sworn it was longer when it was in the wardrobe this morning. agnes’ breath hitched, as she shifted in her seat, leaning back slightly. you bit your lip as you watched her eyes trail down you, and then all of a sudden she seemed to realise what she was doing, and her eyes were on yours once again.

“y/l/n” she answered, dropping eye contact as she attempted pick up her file again, freezing as she accidentally grazed your thigh when she picked it up.

“what has gotten you all worked up, detective?” you teased, smirking as you took the file from her hands, before giving it a read yourself.

“all the fresh blood,” she started, looking back up at you once again, “all the pretty young things like you who think they can control the whole investigation because they did good on one case that, as it just so happens, was a fluke. that’s what’s got me all worked up, detective.” she spoke, as she leaned in closer to you.

“mm, agnes, don’t you worry about me trying to control anything, we both know that’s your area of expertise.” you answered, your noses almost touching.

agnes took a deep breath as she pulled away from you, taking the file into her hands once again. “we’re going out.” she exclaimed abruptly, grabbing her coat and waiting expectantly at the door for you as you hurried to keep up with her. you couldn’t help but smile, as it reminded you of this time last year, where “we’re going out” meant that the two of you would sneak out of work for food or just an hour of time together. you missed that. you missed her.

working with agnes so far had been hell, and you weren’t shy about letting her know. it was either constant bickering or total silence at all times, and she always had to know more than you, because obviously you were stupid and she wasn’t.

you had been working together for a week now. “agnes, can we stop at the gas station on the way back?” you asked, trying to be as civil as possible with her.

“and why would we be doing that?” she replied, fingers tapping on the wheel. you couldn’t help but admire them as she glared at you, expecting an answer. it took you a total of eight seconds to realise you were staring.

“i gotta get my dinner,” you began, “the motel has terrible cooking appliances so i just get what i can from the gas station instead.”

agnes suddenly felt a pang of sympathy go through her. “you’ve been eating gas station food all week in that dusty motel?”

“i mean yeah, its the police department, not the fbi, we don’t have the funds for luxury.” you giggled.

“come over tonight.” agnes blurted out, eyes never leaving you.

“i- what?” you stuttered, her words shocking you.

“i’ll make dinner, i mean.” she rambled, realising the implications of her words, “no one should be eating anything out of that gas station, its disgusting.” she joked.

“okay then.” you answered, smiling a real smile for the first time since you left eastview.

if there was one thing you never forgot about agnes, it was how rancid her cooking tasted when you first started coming over. but that was over five years ago, and you had helped her improve over time. now whatever she made was cooked to perfection and tasted incredible. you couldn’t help but smile as she unlocked her door, urging you inside. it reminded you of when you were hers, you missed it. if only she knew how you still longed for her, how she was the only thing you ever thought about, how whenever you were with other partners you’d imagine it was her, because no one ever made you feel the way she did.

“make yourself at home.” she spoke, you could tell she was nervous. you smiled sadly at her words, sitting on the couch you used to sit on every night, whilst she pattered about the kitchen organising ingredients and acting like you’d never lived there. like she hadn’t had you on the kitchen counter every night, like she didn’t kiss you for the first time at her front door, like you hadn’t slept in that bed with her every night and woke up with her every morning, like she hadn’t proposed to you on the very sofa you were sat on right now.

all the reminiscing seemed to have taken more time than you thought it would, because agnes was now putting two plates on the table, along with a case of beer. “dinner’s up.” she smiled as you sat down.

you watched her eyes widen as you popped open one of the beers and began to drink it. she knew you hated the stuff, but you knew damn well you were going to need it tonight. “thirsty?” she smirked as you practically guzzled the stuff. “mm” was all you could reply with.

you slowly brought the spaghetti that she had made up to your mouth before tasting it. you made a sound of pleasure as you had been hungry for the last two hours, and that did not go unnoticed by agnes, her eyes widened and she shifted around in her seat, before taking a swig of her own beer.

“good?” she asked you, fidgeting with her hands.

“incredible.” you answered, smiling at her.

“learned from the best.” she grinned.

after you had finished up, you both sat on the couch, the tv on for background noise, the pair of you swigging beers. there was now only one left in the case, and both of you were getting tipsy. you don’t remember when it happened, but you were both incredibly close to each other. deciding to test the waters, you rested your head on her shoulder. you felt agnes let out a sigh as she draped her arm around you. you leaned into her, looking up at her face as she looked down at yours. there was a long pause as you both began to realise what was happening.

“agnes.” you whispered.

“yeah?” she answered softly.

“what happened to us?” you asked, the tone of your voice clearly doing something for agnes, whose pupils were now fully dilated.

“i don’t know, honey, i don’t know.” she answered, stroking your hair.

you don’t know how it started happening, but the two of you both began to lean in. your lips brushed together slightly before you hesitated, but agnes didn’t have the ssme self control as you, as she grabbed your face with her hands and pressed her lips against yours, sighing in what seemed to be relief. she started out soft with you, but soon enough she was kissing you hard and rough. her hands slid down to your waist amd before you knew what was happening she had pulled you into her lap. she gripped your waist hard with one hand and dragged the other up your body soft and slow.

she bit your bottom lip harshly, and your mouth opened slightly, her tongue slipping in as she swallowed the moan that left yours. her lips began to trail sown your neck as she bit under your ear, causing a shiver to run up your spine. needing more, you rolled your hips against her.

“agnes, please.” you mumbled against her lips, causing her to let out a loud groan.

“baby, we can’t, you know we can’t.” she whispered, her hands now on your face.

“why not?” you whined.

“because, look at the state of us.” she pressed. she was right, neither of you were in your right minds right now.

“let’s go to bed, hm baby?” she suggested, hands steady on your waist.

“okay, lets go.” you mumbled, as she lifted you from her lap.

not sharing the bed wasn’t even a question, and you were glad. you were glad that she still felt comfortable around you.

“goodnight, y/n.” agnes whispered softly.

“goodnight, agnes.” you replied.

the next morning, you woke up with possibly the worst headache you’d ever had, made worse by your phone alarm blaring in your ear. much to your disappointment, the bed was empty. on the nightstand was a glass of water aspirin, which you took gratefully and got dressed for work. you were glad you always brought extra clothes with you everywhere, or some questions would definitely be raised at work. as you went to get a look at your hair in the mirror, you gasped at the sight of yourself, hurrying to grab your makeup bag in order to cover up the mess agnes had made of your neck. thankfully, you were particularly skilled at that sort of thing, and now no one would be any of the wiser.

when you got downstairs, agnes sat waiting at the kitchen counter.

“took you long enough. we’re gonna be late.” she spoke. you would’ve teased her or made a joke but her tone was telling you she was not happy today, so you just apologised and made your way to the car. she didn’t talk to you for the whole car journey, and didnt even acknowledge you when you got to work.

you were supposed to be interviewing a suspect today, some creep who was particularly into lady cops who fit ypur description, so you weren’t exactly jumping for joy at the thought, but whatever got the job done. you fixed your lipstick and undid a few buttons on your shirt before throwing your hair around, shooting one last glance at agatha, and her colleague, rio vidal, who gave you a reassuring smile, before walking in.

the whole interview, you got to the point with your questions, whilst also acting like a total klutz.

it was going fine, you were flirting with the suspect, landing little touches on his arm and giving him the eyes the whole time. vidal had to hand it to you, you were quite the actress. she smirked to herself as her eyes found agnes, who seemed to be seconds away from running in there and hitting the guy. you had decided to make the mistake on glancing at the glass, your eyes meeting agnes even though you couldn’t see her, and then leaning over the suspect, subtly showing a little chest to get him to talk. that was it, apparently. you heard a loud bang outside, which just so happened you be agnes slamming her hand on the table, before the door jolted open.

“that’s it!” she spat, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt and dragging you out. vidal smirked, raising her eyebrows as you yelled at your ex wife and she just grunted in protest, dragging you into her office, slamming the door behind you.

“agnes, what are you-“ you began, but were quickly interrupted.

“what the hell was that?” she spat, seething as her grip tightened.

“what was what, agnes?” you yelled back at her, confusion painting your features.

“that little stunt you pulled with the suspect.” she replied, looking at you as if you were stupid.

“i’m doing my job agnes.” you answered in shock.

“oh and showing yourself off like some prize is your job now, is it? i’ll tell you, if i checked the protocall for interrogations i doubt i’d find that in there, y/n.” she began, yelling at you by the end of the sentence.

“why do you care so much, agnes?” you yelled back.

“because you’re mine.” she answered, teeth gritted together as she walked you into the door, leaving no space between you as she leaned into you.

“agnes, stop.”

“why? you were begging for it last night.” she mumbled. you knew she was too far gone already, and you had to snap her out of it, but you couldn’t help the noise that escaped your throat at her words.

“agnes.” you spoke, timidly as if not to upset her.

“hm?” she answered, eyes meeting yours as she removed her head from resting on your shoulder.

“stop,” you spoke, voice firm, as you pulled her face into your hands, “we can’t keep doing this.” you whispered, as much as it pained you to do so.

“yes we can.” she answered, leaning into your touch as if she hadn’t had any for years.

“no we can’t.” you told her, as one hand went to her hair, in muscle memory. she put her hands on your waist as she slowly guided you over so she could sit down. you were now standing in between her legs as her hands ran up and down her sides.

“why are you just throwing this away, y/n?” she whined, pulling you onto her lap once again. you couldn’t find it in yourself to protest, she knew you wanted her just as much as she wanted you, she could see right through you.

“i didn’t throw anything away, agnes. you threw everything away when you left me.” you mumbled, shying away from her tough as her hands reached your neck and face. this had seemed to calm her down.

“and it was the worst thing i’ve ever done.” she confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“what?” you whispered, pulling her face so she’d look at you.

“i mean it, y/n. leaving you is my biggest regret. i hate myself for it, and i’m so, so sorry.” she rambled.

“agnes, don’t apologise, work was stressing you out, and we wanted different things, it happens.”

“it shouldn’t have happened to us. i’m so sorry i ignored you, and i’m sorry that the only thing we seemed to do together was fight, and i’m sorry-“

“agnes, stop. it’s in the past now.”

“what i’m trying to say is that i don’t want us to be in the past. i miss you, y/n, every day.” she was looking at you like you were everything she had ever wanted, and you believed her.

“agnes, i-“ you began, but you were quickly cut off.

“last night was the first time i felt truly happy since i left. you know that, right?” she whispered, both hands rubbing your neck.

“agnes…” her name came out strained, as she pressed down slightly.

“please, y/n. one chance.” she begged.

“i promise, baby, i’ll never leave you again, i p-“

you melted at the nickname, and your lips were on hers before she could finish her sentence, leaning back as she repositioned you on her lap, her hands gripping your waist, hard. the kiss was different from the ome from last night, fuelled with more passion and emotion.

“mm, agnes.” you gasped, her swallowing your moan, “i missed you.”

she laughed lightly into the kiss as one hand travelled further down, “i missed you too, baby.”

she was about to get you up onto the table when the door burst open, vidal storming in.

“you happy now, o’connor?” she yelled, not paying attention to anything that was happening.

“you have really got to get your priorities straight, she was doing her job for god’s sake, and- oh my god.” she whispered that last part as she suddenly took in her surroundings, “i am so sorry.” she giggled, leaving the room as quickly as possible. agnes let out a sigh as you giggled into her, arms wrapped around her neck as you placed a peck to her lips.

“lets finish this at home, shall we?” you smiled, as she shook her head, finally letting out a laugh.

[kairoot]

𝑇𝑂𝑃 𝑆𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓．． ──── 최산．

ׂ ִ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬．𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇，𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆． — 𝐩. 𝗌𝗉𝗒！𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝐠. 𝑒𝟤𝑙．𝑓𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿，𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 — 𝐰. 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌，𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁，𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎，𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾？ 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽．𝐰𝐜. 𝟦.𝟫𝗄

✉️ ──── thanks to sav for this lovely idea 😛 (we love papa san)

The building was cold with the monitors lighting up all over the room, casting sharp shadows across the walls. You’d been sitting in the same chair by the large wooden desk, waiting for what felt like hours. The folder that sat in front of you was open with papers spread out in a disorganized manner.

Finally, the gray double doors opened and in walked your boss and leader, Seonghwa. He wore the same unimpressed expression that he always did, dressed in his gray suit with his long jet black hair combed back neatly. His clipboard was at his side as he walked over to you, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.

He handed you the dossier, the file with way more information than the first one that sat in front of you before.

“If it wasn’t clear before, you’re infiltrating the Aurorian mansion, just on the other side of town.” He said, looking at your confused expression.

“Okay, but how is this getting us closer to catching Hongjoong? Isn’t he supposed to be off to Greece right now?” You opened the dossier, glancing at the info inside.

“He’s leaving tonight. But he’ll be at the mansion first, loading his teammates onto his ship with our amulet.” Seonghwa emphasized the fact that Hongjoong still had possession of the amulet. The amulet that belonged to Seonghwa and his organization.

Hongjoong, the most notorious pirate in town, had found a way to break into the organization’s underground lab just 3 days ago, stealing one of the most valuable creations that your boss owned.

Inside of the dossier, there was a blurry photograph of Hongjoong with the amulet around his neck, running away from the opening of the lab before anyone around could catch him in the act.

“He plans to activate it during the gala,” Seonghwa spoke again, his hands now clasped together in a professional manner.

“If he does..” He trailed off, his jaw tightening but he didn’t continue his sentence, leading you to think the cause of Hongjoong’s actions would be way more serious than you thought.

“You’ll need to stop him—and take it back. Before it’s too late.”

You didn��t say anything which lead Seonghwa to think you were a bit worried. He sighed, looking down for a moment as you just stared at the picture in front of you, thinking about everything he had told you.

“Look,” he said softly, placing his hand on yours. “I wouldn’t assign you to this mission if I didn’t think you were capable, Y/n.”

You blinked, still analyzing everything. You were one of Seonghwa’s best spies on the team and he made that clear every time you stepped into his office, so why were you doubting yourself now? It’s not like you’d never done anything dangerous, so what was all the worrying about?

“If it’s the captain you’re worried about—I know you’ll find him. He won’t be able to control that amulet and what’s inside.” Seonghwa said, still reassuring you.

“And what if I can’t get him?” You spoke, your voice slightly shaking.”

“You will. This isn’t an easy mission, but I’ve given you some help.”

You looked up at Seonghwa’s words, your eyebrows furrowing. And as if on cue, the double doors opened once more, the sound of footsteps echoing behind you. Seonghwa’s gaze flickered from the doors and back over to you, silently hoping that you wouldn’t flip out on him.

“Miss me, sweetheart?” A deep voice carried through the room before you even saw him, smooth and infuriatingly smug. You turned slightly in the chair to see the one person you hated the most. Choi San. Seonghwa’s cockiest agent.

He stood casually by the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets with a wicked grin on his lips. He was dressed in an unwrinkled gray suit, one that looked more like he wanted to charm someone out of their secrets.

You whipped your head around to look at Seonghwa, who remained in the same position, looking over at San with an unpleased expression.

“Seonghwa, what the hell? Out of all the agents on the team?” You scoffed.

He sighed again, “Half of the team is out right now, Y/n. Yeosang is undercover, Yunho is on surveillance today..”

“So? You couldn’t partner me with someone more.. serious?” You questioned.

“Oh, come on. I am serious,” San chuckled lightly, clearly amused at your defensiveness.

You only rolled your eyes at his response, not giving him the satisfaction of an argument. Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of hearing your complaints and San’s bold remarks.

“Listen,” he said. “It’s just for this assignment. Please, Y/n.”

You stared at him for a moment, lost for words. You knew how important that amulet was to Seonghwa and you knew the risks of it if Hongjoong had it in his possession any longer. You couldn’t let your bickering get in the way of what was really important.

“Alright.”

The doors to the agency slammed shut behind you, as you wasted no time heading to your car. San trailed a few steps behind you, his pace calm, contrasting to your determined strides.

“Why so eager, doll?” He snickered.

You didn’t bother turning around, continuing your journey to the parked car. “Unlike you, I’m focusing on what really matters.”

“I’m focused on what matters,” San said with a mocked defensive tone, jogging a bit to catch up to you. “But Hongjoong isn’t going anywhere— well, not yet.”

You glared at him for a moment as you approached your vehicle— a black sedan that was gifted to you from Seonghwa. You unlocked it with the click of the remote on your keys, gesturing to the passenger side.

“In.” You ordered, sliding into your spot in the driver’s seat.

San smirked at your tone, before opening the door, “So demanding, I love it.”

As you drove through the city, you reached for the dossier that Seonghwa gave you, flipping it open again to scan the contents inside. San leaned over to peek at the papers, his broad shoulder brushing against yours.

“Personal space, Choi.” You muttered, trying to angle the papers away from him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling the folder back to his view.

“Sharing is caring.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing at the page that listed all of Hongjoong’s associates.

The list wasn’t too long but one name stuck out to you the most. Jung Wooyoung— Tattoo Artist. There was a note by his name, indicating that Hongjoong was seen with him 3 days ago. The same day he stole the amulet from the lab.

“Tattoo artist, huh? Think he could give me a discount if I ask nicely?” San hummed, looking at the same name.

You sighed, not entertaining his remark, “We’ll start with him.”

“And I’ll lead the interrogation?” San smiled at you, his glasses sliding down his nose a bit as he propped his feet up on the dashboard.

You swatted his shoes off of the dashboard, earning a scoff from him. “Absolutely not.”

“What? You think I’ll be too good? Better than you?”

“No,” you answered flatly. “Just don’t need you getting us into any trouble.”

You parked a few feet away from the parlor, an undetectable building smushed between two abandoned buildings. The neon “open” sign flickered dimly in the window, the faint glow of it showing up against the cracked sidewalk.

“Great place. I bet Wooyoung’s just a delight.” San whistled as he stepped out of the car.

You shut the door to the driver’s side as you got out, taking a look at the building before walking ahead.

“Just remember what we’re here for. We ask questions and get out. No theatrics needed.”

San saluted mockingly, “You’re the boss.”

The shop smelled of metallic ink and old wood as you and San stepped inside, the bell on the door ringing behind you, indicating that you had entered. The buzzing of a tattoo gun was heard in a nearby corner as you walked further into the shop.

Wooyoung sat lazily in a swivel chair before turning to see who had entered. Once he saw you, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Well, well,” He said, sitting up in his chair. “New clients? Or just here to marvel at my work?”

“Neither,” you said curtly, now standing in front of him. “I need to ask you some things about Hongjoong. I’m sure you know him, no?”

Wooyoung’s smirk widened, his gaze flicking to San, who leaned against the doorframe watching Wooyoung intently.

“Hongjoong? That’s a big name for you to drop,” He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “You sure you’re not lost, sweetheart?”

“Nah, I think we’re in the right place.” San spoke, pushing himself off of the doorframe, coming to stand behind you.

Wooyoung seemed to be amused by the whole thing, the same grin remaining on his face. He definitely wasn’t intimidated by you two.

“We know Hongjoong was here three days ago, we just want to know why.”

Wooyoung leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. “Well, getting a sweet tat, of course.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, refusing to believe any of his lies.

“Wooyoung.”

“What? What makes you think I’d tell you anything?”

“‘Cause if you don’t, you won’t be holding another one of those tattoo guns ever again.” You leaned down to his level, a fake smile plastered on your face.

But Wooyoung didn’t flinch. Instead, he laughed in your face— a low, lazy sound that grated your nerves.

“Feisty one, I see. She yours?” He asked San, making a smile appear on his face as he slid his hands into his pockets like before.

“She wants to be.”

You shoved San softly, his antics irritating you. “Would you stop?”

He threw his hands up in a defending way as you turned back to Wooyoung, continuing to question him.

“Relax, Bonnie and Clyde,” He snickered again. “I’ll talk.. if she asks nicely.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your attitude at a minimum. “Wooyoung, would you tell us why Hongjoong was here.. please.”

He tapped his chin for a moment, “Not bad. But I think you can do better.”

San snorted, “Careful. She doesn’t like playing games.”

You sighed frustratingly, “You’re really not helping.”

Wooyoung’s eyes darted between you and San, seeming to enjoy your bickering.

“If you really want to know about Hongjoong..” He trailed off, spinning his chair to face one of his shelves, digging through the clutter.

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to you. You took it, reading the words on it. It was an address, scribbled in messy handwriting.

“He kept rambling about this place. Saying he needed to go there before he left town. I don’t know much, you’ll probably find more answers there.” Wooyoung shrugged.

You mumbled a “thanks”, still analyzing the address on the paper.

You stepped outside, the cold wind blowing against your face as you headed back to your car.

“I told you, ‘no theatrics’.” You mumbled to San as he walked next to you.

“What?” He asked innocently, smiling over at you.

You shook your head as you both approached your car, “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

“Why? I think we make a pretty great team, baby.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, unfolding the crumpled piece of paper that Wooyoung gave you. San stood a few feet away, fishing something out of his pocket.

“This address looks familiar but I can’t figure out why.” You murmured, tracing the letters and numbers with your finger.

San didn’t answer right away. You glanced up, seeing the faint glow of a lighter illuminating his face as he lit a cigarette.

He took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke in a way that felt too casual for your liking. His free hand was tucked into his pocket, his stance effortlessly confident. And almost.. attractive?

He raised an eyebrow at you, noticing how you stared at him. You blinked, not even realizing that you were looking at him for that long, quickly turning your gaze back to the paper.

He walked over to you, looking at the paper from over your shoulder.

“Oh shit,” he spoke, the cigarette hanging in between his lips. “That’s a drop-off point.”

You hummed in response, “Maybe he’s dropping something off?”

“Only one way to find out.”

You pushed yourself off of the hood, heading towards the driver’s side before turning to San.

“Put that out before you step foot in my car, please.”

He gave you a smug smile before throwing the cigarette on the ground, stomping out the lit end.

“I never knew you smoked,” You said, sitting in your seat and starting up the car.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, love,” He sighed, sliding in his spot in the passenger seat.

“Besides, I only do it when I’m bored. Keeps me entertained when my partner spends too much time overthinking.”

You huffed, “You know that stuff will kill you, right?”

“Yeah?” He turned his head, sharp eyes looking over his frames, gazing at you. “So will Hongjoong. But I don’t see you lecturing him about his life choices.”

“I’m not his babysitter,” You shot back, your hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“And you’re not mine.”

The rest of the drive to the drop-off point was tense but silent. You couldn’t tell if you pissed San off or if he was actually choosing to behave for once. But.. you couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked at you before when he took drags from his cigarette. There was something about it that you wanted to forget but couldn’t.

As you pulled up to the address, it was exactly how you’d imagined it. Dark, gloomy, and suspiciously quiet. The warehouse loomed ahead, the exterior worn down and barely visible under the dim sky.

“This should be fun,” San muttered.

“Stay sharp. If this has anything to do with Hongjoong, we’re bound to find trouble here.”

The two of you stepped out of the car, footsteps echoing against the pavement. As you approached the building, a rustling sound had caught your attention.

You both froze, turning in the direction of the noise, your hand grazing San’s out of fear.

Before either of you could say anything, three figures emerged from behind some bushes, their movements swift.

“Friends of Hongjoong’s, I’m guessing?” San said, his posture tense but ready.

“More like guards.” You replied, bracing yourself.

The tallest of the group stepped forward, his voice low and threatening. “You both need to leave.”

“Or what, big guy?” San smiled, stepping closer to the guy, taking off his glasses and tossing them off to the side.

You barely had time to react before the man lunged, aiming a punch at your face to which you dodged at first before he sent a blow to your shoulder, sending a sharp pain down your arm. You winced, stumbling back a bit before blocking his next hits and jabbing him in the stomach.

He staggered, but didn’t go down. He swung at you again, but failed miserably as he clutched his gut.

San, however, was putting on a show—at first. He dodged punches and kicks like it was a piece of cake. “Gotta be quicker than that fellas, c’mon.”

But unfortunately, his bold remarks cost him; one of the men swung at San, landing a hard punch to his jaw.

“Shit.” He hissed, stumbling away from him. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth, but his smirk didn’t falter.

Your opponent grabbed your wrist, twisting it as he shoved you against the wall. You gritted your teeth, slamming your knee into the same place you’d hit him before. He groaned, his grip loosening enough for you to pull your hand back, landing an elbow to his temple.

San was still taking on his two guys, landing an uppercut on one of them but not before he received a hit on his ribs. He doubled over, clutching his side but deciding to lung at the man with a burst of energy.

The third man chose that moment to jump in, barreling towards San but you intercepted him, kicking the back of his knee. He went down with a grunt, grabbing your ankle and yanking you off balance.

San grabbed the guy by the collar, yanking him back before throwing a punch at the guy’s nose, knocking him out cold.

Breathing heavily, you got to your feet, glancing at San. His lip was split, his hand pressed to his side where a bruise was already forming underneath his button up.

“Nice save,” You say, brushing the dirt off of your pants.

“Yeah.. Don’t mention it,” he said, wincing as he straightened up. “Seriously, don’t. I’ll never hear the end of it if you do.”

You roll your eyes scanning the scene in front of you. The men were sprawled out on the ground, groaning faintly.

“We should leave before more of them show up.” You said, walking back out of the entrance, heading to the car again. San didn’t respond, only following behind you, slightly wincing.

You drove off somewhere a bit more private and away from the warehouse before anymore henchman could attack you. San’s head was rested against the window as he continued to clutch his side.

You parked the car before reaching into your backseat, grabbing a first aid kit you kept with you at all times. You pulled out a cloth, wetting it with a small water bottle that was half empty from all the times you had to clean your own wounds.

“San,” you called him, earning a faint hum from him.

“Look at me.”

He lifted his head off of the window, looking at you and then the cloth in your hand. He didn’t say anything, but instead he reciprocated.

Hesitantly, you leaned in a bit, getting a better look at the wound on his lip, dry blood decorated the corner of his mouth and down his chin. You brought the cloth up to his wound, applying a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes tightly as he braced himself for the pain.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, softly patting it.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until San opened his eyes again, looking down at how focused you were. You caught his gaze, your face warming at the sight of him staring at you so intently.

The two of you didn’t say anything as you cleaned around his lip, patting it one more time to get the last bit of blood.

You were going to put the kit away before realizing that he still had one more injury. You reached back into the case, pulling out an instant cold pack, placing it to the side.

“I need you to unbutton your shirt.” You spoke softly, looking away for a moment.

San took in a breath for a moment, before readjusting himself in the seat, unbuttoning the gray vest and the white button up that was under it. He grimaced as he moved the sides of his shirt out of the way, his chest now on display. You glanced down at the area for a moment, noticing old scars that were there.

Your gaze then fell to his left side, where the area was now swelling up and slightly bruised. You reached out, running your fingers over it lightly, making San jump a bit at the contact.

“Sorry,” you said again. “I’m just gonna put this cool pack on it so the swelling can go down a bit.”

San nodded, his head falling back against the window while he waited for you to place the pack to his side. You felt bad for him, seeing how much pain he was in. But this was your job. These were the things that came with it.

You took the ice pack in your hand, bringing it to where the swelling was, resting it against the injury gently. San exhaled deeply, placing his larger hand over yours, pressing the ice pack into his side.

You shifted in your seat, beginning to pull your hand away from his side until he stopped you.

“No,” he murmured, his hand still remaining on top of yours. He opened his eyes to look down at where your hands were intertwined.

“Just stay.”

You stepped out of your car, your dress falling to your ankles as you smoothed out the material, shifting in it to make sure you were comfortable. It was a simple black velvet off-the shoulder gown, silver gem embroidery along the front. The back of the dress dipped low, just enough to reveal the curve of your spine.

You quickly placed your mask over your face, the material black with silver details to match your gown.

“Look at you,” a voice spoke from next to you. It was San, stepping out of his own car now, dressed in a sleek black suit.

“This mission just got so much more exciting.” He adds with a smile, licking his lips a bit. You scoff, starting to walk off without him but he catches up not too long after.

The mansion stood tall in front of you, the lights outside of it bright and golden. There were soft strains of classical music coming from the courtyard, mixing with the hum of expensive cars and the chatter of guests.

You and San both walked among them, blending in and acting natural. In reality, you both kept your eyes wide and your ears open, looking for any signs of your target.

As you were heading to the entrance, you felt San’s hand slip behind you, resting on the small of your back.

You almost jumped out of your skin, whipping your head around to look at him, “What are you doing?”

“Playing the part, of course.” He nodded his head at the people ahead of you, some of them seemed like they were couples, wrapped up in each other’s arms or guiding one another around as they linked arms.

“Oh, absolutely not—“ you were quick to lean away from him, but his fingers pressed into your side now, tightening his grip on you.

“Stop being so stubborn,” he said, continuing to walk. You looked up at him to see his expression nothing but calm. He was way too good at being undercover. But nonetheless, you remained nonchalant, following his lead.

Inside of the mansion, there were even more people, which almost made you nervous. How would you be able to find Hongjoong inside when half the town was there?

But you were able to recognize your team right away. Yunho was on the stairwell, speaking with a woman dressed in a red cocktail dress. Seonghwa was also there, in the middle of the gala, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

You scanned the room for any signs of the captain, but he was no where to be found— until everyone turned in the same direction.

The room had quieted down and everyone had stopped to look in the same spot. On the far side of the room, Hongjoong was coming down another staircase with two men on his side. One was tall with a sharp gaze and the other was a familiar face— Wooyoung. They were dressed in black but Hongjoong had on a blazer that exposed a bit of his chest. His hair was sleek and combed back neatly.

You saw Seonghwa turn to face you and San, beckoning you both over to where he was standing.

“I didn’t know you would be here, Hwa,” you whispered as he handed you both a small black device to which you assumed were earpieces. You both quickly placed them in your ear before anyone could notice anything.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. You could tell he was a bit on edge, but not in a fearful way. He was angry. Hongjoong had been known to taunt Seonghwa a lot, but he’d never actually taken anything from him before. You’d always thought he was all talk.

“I need to make sure that asshole gets caught.”

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted yours, “Welcome, all!”

It was Hongjoong. You turned back to see him grinning from the stairwell that he continued to stand on.

“I’m so glad everyone could be here tonight, seeing as I’m making my departure.” He said with a frown, making people ‘aww’ and make noises in disagreement.

As Hongjoong continued to speak about his gala and whatever else he wanted to boast about, you couldn’t help but notice the absence of the amulet. It wasn’t around his neck where it usually rested.

“He doesn’t have it,” you whispered to San and Seonghwa, causing them both to look closely at his neck. Nothing else was said, but Seonghwa gave cues to Yunho from across the room before turning back to you.

“Yunho and some of the other guys are gonna search the mansion, I need you two to keep eyes on Hongjoong, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere near those rooms on the second and third floor.” He explained quietly.

“What about you?” San asked him.

“I’ll still be down here but trying to stay out of his sight. If he knows I’m here then he’ll know the rest of you are, as well.” Seonghwa responded.

The party resumed once Hongjoong’s small speech was over, making you and San move away from Seonghwa a bit, not wanting to draw any attention to him or yourselves.

San pulled you to an area where people were dancing, causing you to hesitate for a moment, but somehow he spoke you into it.

“It’ll be fun,” he suggested, holding your hand tightly.

“San, we need to keep an eye on Hongjoong.” You whispered, not wanting to mention his name too loudly.

“I’m a great multitasker.” He teased. You sighed, looking back at where Seonghwa was standing. You really couldn’t mess up this mission but you needed to loosen up a bit, have some fun.

The music in the grand hall shifted, taking a slower rhythm. The soft hum of the violins and the gentle thrum of a bass made the air feel more charged.

San pulled you close, your chest pressed against his as you began to move to the music. His hand rested on your back, his fingers moving against your spine at times, caressing the area. You hand was intertwined with his, yet again, bringing you back to the moment between you when you helped him with his wounds.

You scanned the room for a moment to make sure nobody was watching too closely before turning back to San. Something about the way he looked at you—calm, yet determined—made your heart flutter.

“Relax,” he said suddenly, smiling down at you— a stark contrast to his usual cocky smirks.

“I am relaxed.” You responded, looking away from him for a moment. You wanted to escape his gaze.

“No,” he chuckled. “You’re tense.. and very jumpy. Just relax a bit.”

Your movements started off tentative, but you started to get the hang of it. San led with confidence that was impossible to resist. His steps were smooth, almost as if he’d done this before. Soon, you found yourself falling into rhythm with him.

“How’s your side?” You questioned, looking up at him.

“Not too bad, thanks to you.” His eyes locked with yours making you feel like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

The space between you shrank, the warmth of his body brushing against yours with every step. His hand flattened against your back, drawing you closer than before. It wasn’t a move that anyone else would notice, but to you, it was electrifying.

The music swelled, and San spun you in a graceful arc, his hand never leaving yours. When you came back to him, your faces were mere inches apart, and for a moment, you thought he might lean in.

Your breath hitched. Did you want him to?

“I gotta say,” he started, his voice more tender. “I didn’t think you’d say yes to dancing with me.”

“And why not?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I honestly thought you’d rather stab me than hold my hand.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Don’t tempt me.”

He chuckled, but the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. “Good to know you’re enjoying this, then.”

The song began to fade out, but neither of you stopped moving. The moment stretched on and your eyes never left his. You suddenly hoped that he’d lean in just a bit further, let his lips touch yours.

“San,” you whispered, blinking up at him slowly.

“Hm?”

But the once calm and intimate moment was cut short, loud commotion erupted from across the room, causing both of you to whip your head into the direction. Hongjoong was now moving through the crowd with a scowl on his face.

“They’re coming up to the third floor,” Yunho’s voice came through in the earpiece, indicating that him and the rest of the team had been caught.

You turned to see Seonghwa already giving you and San a curt nod, quickly responding to Yunho and moving to the stairwell.

“Let’s go, partner,” San called out playfully, grabbing your hand as you both followed Seonghwa, keeping a close ye on Hongjoong.

As the two of you continued your mission, you couldn’t ignore the lingering warmth of his touch or the memory of how close he was. You couldn’t stand him at first, but now you were slowly starting to see why Seonghwa had paired you up with him.

• • •

[hearts4hughes]

JEALOUS LOVER | CORIOLANUS SNOW

young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: coriolanus battles to control his possessive and jealous nature when seeing you with a friend.

note: i’m aware that coriolanus is such a terrible person, but it doesn’t help that they casted tom blyth (the definition of perfect) as him. i couldn’t fight the urge to write about him and i’m glad i didn’t! hope you enjoy!

warnings: borderline toxic relationship?, jealousy, angst w/ a happy ending, fluff, gets a little steamy towards the end (🙈)

coriolanus watched from a distance, his piercing eyes fixated on your every move. as you engaged in conversation with sejanus, a fleeting smile playing on your lips, a storm brewed in his gaze. his jaw clenched; eyes, once crystal blue, were now dark and stormy.

discomfort envelops him, triggering nausea through his chest; he refuses to be treated like a child. however, the simple act or even the notion of you interacting with another man, fuels a visceral anger: clenched fists, muscles tense, poised to eradicate any man who even looks in your direction.

“you’re so funny, sejanus.” you laughed, your hand lightly grazing his bicep. the action was subconscious. a platonic movement that made no one bat an eyelash.

well, except for coriolanus.

his tongue ran over his teeth as he shook his head, trying to control himself. self-control, he repeated over, and over again in his mind. he’d learn how to control himself at such a young age. to know how to mask any emotion in order to appear professional and calm. but one look at you laughing and touching another male had him forgetting all of his previous lessons.

taking a deep breath, he made his way over to you. his attempt to remain composed was unsuccessful. his fair skin was painted deep shades of red; his breath was heavy with anger; his eyes narrowed as he shot daggers at sejanus.

“hi coryo!” you smiled, taking note of his tense stature. “we were just catching up.” your hand motions towards sejanus who greets him. the blonde nods, not impressed with the whole situation.

self-control.

“well, we better get going.” he stated simply, checking his watch. “it’s getting late and i don’t want y/n and i to walk home in the dark.” he feigned a tightlipped smile. your brows furrowed in confusion. it was nowhere near sunset, what had the boy in such a hurry?

“it was nice to see-” your words were cut short as coriolanus grabbed your arm, pulling you away from sejanus and towards the exit. your head turned between both boys before sending sejanus a pitiful smile to which he returned.

as coriolanus whisked you away, the corridor echoed with the abruptness of his hurried steps. his grip on your arm, firm yet possessive, spoke volumes.

the walk home was practically silent. tension sat in the air weighing down both of your shoulders. your gaze remained fixed on coriolanus’s side profile. meanwhile, his eyes remained focused on the sidewalk, meticulously scrutinizing the cracks and crevices in the concrete as if searching for answers in their patterns.

finally, you broke the grueling silence. “coryo, what’s wrong?” your hand finds its way to his, intertwining your fingers. coriolanus, his gaze momentarily lifting from the sidewalk, met your concerned eyes. the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift slightly. his jaw tightened, but his eyes softened, revealing a vulnerability beneath his anger. “it’s nothing,” he muttered, the words carrying the weight of something untold.

your brows furrowed in gentle concern, “you can talk to me. you know that right?” at this point your walking comes to a halt. your hand raises to brush his platinum curls away from his face. he nods, but he doesn’t dare meet your gaze— too ashamed of his pathetic insecurities. at last, he lets out a huff, caving into the warmth of your touch and the sweetness of your words.

“i just… i didn’t like seeing you with him,” he admitted, his tone laced with vulnerability and possessiveness.

“with sejanus?” you inquired.

“yes!” although he raised his voice, his tone was still hushed— embarrassed even. “seeing you with him today, laughing at his jokes and touching his arm, made me,” he paused to take a deep breath, “it all made me jealous.” your hand found its way to his face, your fingers brushing his cheeks soothingly.

“coryo, there’s no need to be jealous,” you reassured, your voice a gentle melody. “there’s no one else i’d rather be with than you.”

the words, a sweet offering of devotion, seemed to fan the flames within him. a smirk played on his lips, ego swelling with satisfaction as his eyes, once dark and stormy, now took on a smoldering gaze. a subtle shift in his demeanor was evident as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hands trailing dangerously close to your ass. without responding, coriolanus leaned in, his lips capturing yours with hunger.

the kiss was fiery and a desperate need for closeness. his hand slid sensuously along the curves of your waist, fingers tracing a path, as if claiming every inch of you. his lips moved with a skilled urgency, exploring the contours of your mouth. your tongues clashed together in each other’s mouths. the blonde swallowed your moans and whines, trapping them.

as you both reluctantly pulled away from the scorching kiss, a lingering heat hung in the air. a sly smirk played on both of your lips.

“you have no idea what you’re doing to me, y/n.” he said, breathlessly. “and i want you to remember that every inch of you is mine.” you smiled, not quiet realizing the toxicity of your boyfriend’s words. you were blinded by his sweet, pleasing words and his gorgeous face structure to even notice.

the rest of the walk was silent, but the air wasn’t filled with a lingering tension. no, if anything, it was filled with a newfound sense of lust and love.

[turtles-invoked]

“How come you can’t fly?” Jack asks Castiel randomly one afternoon. Him, Jack, Dean, and Sam sit at the long table in the library, the brothers sharing a beer, Jack and Cas just happy to be in their company.

Well, maybe it wasn’t as random as it seemed. Jack was curious about The Apocalypse after Dean’s possession. They explained it all in as much detail as they could, Sam even offering as much as loosing his soul and how that affected him, and then how it affected Cas. Which lead to the Leviathan’s and then somehow they ended up talking about their time in Purgatory which naturally lead to Naomi’s control over Cas and then Metatron’s betrayal which leaves them where they’re up to now at the Great Fall… at least that’s what they’ve been calling it.

All eyes turn to Cas. The conversation comes to a halt at the somewhat intrusive question. An uncomfortable, bubbling feeling begins to roll and churn in his stomach as his face begins to heat up.

He opens his mouth to start explaining but Sam had begun to answer for him, “because he fell with the angels.” He says it as if it was obvious, but when he looks around and takes in Dean’s frown and Cas’ squinted eyes and slight head tilt to the left he starts to doubt himself, “…right?”

Cas completely forgot that Sam was particularly unwell at the time of the Great Fall. No one ever spoke about his lack of wings after he became human and they were a little busy when Cas finally got what little of his Grace was left. Of course Sam wouldn’t know. Dean doesn’t even know it all, so how would Sam?

“No… I uh…” Cas started and looked around at all the faces watching him; Sam’s confused frown, Jack’s intrigued yet a little wary squint, and Dean’s sympathetic eyes.

“When I gave Metatron my grace…” he starts slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat, “naturally, I lost all of my powers, including my wings…”

“But you got it back?” Jack asks, still confused.

“Not all of it. What was left after the spell wasn’t enough to heal my body immediately.”

“But you said over time it will regenerate,” Jack argues.

“Correct, and it has, but-”

“Then you should be able to fly,” he says hopefully.

Cas shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat. Jack was looking so hopeful at him that it almost felt worse to crush that than it did to admit what really happened.

“Theoretically, yes…” he starts and spares a glance at Dean. The brothers hadn’t said anything more since Cas begun his story and it unnerved him a little.

“Since I never technically fell with the rest of the angels, my Grace should have healed them… but there is more to it than that.”

“Wait a second-” Sam cuts in leaning forward in his seat, “you didn’t fall with the angels?”

“No, at the time I was already human.”

Sam looks at him as if he’s trying to piece together everything but nothing quite makes sense.

Jack interjects this time, frowning as he asks, “you gave Metatron your grace?”

“He was played,” Dean says simply, a tinge of frustration in his tone.

Cas sighs in agreement, “while Sam was attempting to close the gates of Hell, I thought I was sealing Heaven…”

“You were going to lock all the angels away? Including you?” Jack interjects again.

This time Cas’ eyes snap to Dean who was staring straight at him. His expression remained stoic and neutral but his eyes were a little bit wider, more attentive, desperate for the answer too. Of course he wasn’t going to leave Dean, but they had never had a chance to have that conversation.

“No,” Cas says sincerely, then turns his attention back to Jack, “No, I was- am unwelcome in Heaven. Though, I would have stayed on Earth regardless.”

“Jack, we’re getting off track,” Sam points out waving his hands to backtrack to the original plot.

“Right, yes. I was tracking Metatron when a couple of his followers found me. I was captured an-”

“Alone?” Jacks asks surprised.

“Yes.”

“As a human?”

“No. No we found Metatron previously and captured him, however, he knew where the rest of my grace was. I was… dying… and at the time Metatron was cuffed… we didn’t- I didn’t think he could escape. He was weak but he did, and I was trying to… find him when some of his very few remaining loyalties found me. I was still weak…” he trails off becoming nervous again.

“Wait- you had Metatron, but you let him go so you could get your grace back!?” Sam asks incredulously.

Dean slaps his arm to shut him up, but Cas can feel the frustrated anger in Sam’s stare.

“For what it’s worth, I did not agree. It was Hannah who insisted. I assumed wrongly that the cuffs could contain him,” Cas feels his face flush with frustration. He was starting to lose track of his story with all the interruptions and emotions beginning to swell in his chest.

“All of this could have been avoided!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, and Cas would be dead!” Dean interjects for the first time since Cas started talking.

“I would not have survived much longer without it, I am sorry to disappoint,” he replies curtly and returns his attention to Jack’s big pleading eyes.

“What happened when they found you?” Jack asks softly.

“He…” Cas swallows the lump in his throat before he continues, “… he bound and tortured me…” he looked at his intertwined hands, talking to the table. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, could feel the thumping in his ears as the blood rushed through his body, the embarrassment working its way through his veins.

“He cut into me with my own angel blade, but he soon realised I would not give up Sam and Dean very easily, so he…. Resorted to more… intense… measures…” Cas swallows again… his mouth beginning to dry, and his eyes burn ever so slightly. Visions of his shirt ripped opened and bloodied, flashed through his mind. He could feel the tight, pulling, bounding of his wrists as he was suspended from the ceiling, toes barely touching the ground; the stinging of each carve into his skin. He even remembers his relief when he thought they had given up, but the devastation as he realised what they had planned to do next.

“Cas, you don’t have to talk about it…” Dean says carefully.

Cas shakes his head to try and push the memories away, “I thought when they stopped they had given up. But how wrong was I…”

He shifts in his seat, leaning back so he’s not so hunched over, his hands now in his lap, still clenched together.

“They sliced down my back… extracted my wings and-” Cas inhaled shakily before blowing it out, the corners of his eyes beginning to prickle.

“We get it,” Dean says softly. Cas looks up and meets his eyes. Dean offers a sympathetic smile while Jack looks like he may pass out. His face has paled a little, mouth hung open in disbelief,’“I didn’t think that was possible…”

“It was… excruciating. Had Hannah not found me when she did…” Cas looks sheepishly to Dean, “I would not have lasted long at all…”

“It’s okay,” Dean says in that same gentle tone.

“Cas- I-” Sam was at a loss for words, “I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Cas replies a little too short.

“Have you tried to heal them?” Jack says quietly.

Cas gives him a flat smile, “yes. As well as Hannah and Gabriel. It appears they are damaged beyond repair…”

“May I try?”

All Cas can do is shake his head.

“Please let me try, Cas?”

At the same time as Dean says, “that’s enough,” Cas pushes his chair out and mumbles an, “excuse me,” not looking back at the table as he exits the room and heads for his own.

He can hear Jack and Dean arguing lightly with each other, but he pays it no more attention than he does the tears welling up in his eyes. When he approaches his room he shuts the door gently behind him and leans against it, sighing out deeply as the tears fall from his eyes freely.

He wipes them away and laughs to himself at his own humanity. ‘An angel crying,’ he thinks to himself. My, how far had he fallen indeed.

A knock at his door pulls him out of his self pity as well as a gentle soft call of his name, “Cas?” Cas could pick out Dean’s voice anywhere.

Cas wiped his face one more time before kicking off the door and opening it.

“You good?” Dean asks leaning against the frame.

Cas nods and tries to put on his best smile. But Dean raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest, looking straight through his facade.

Cas sighs and steps to the side to let him in, and shuts the door behind them.

He doesn’t have much in his room. His bed hasn’t been used in a couple of days, his few personal items are the books he’s snagged from the library to read while the boys sleep. Very bare compared to Dean’s.

Dean walks in and takes a seat at the edge of the bed facing Cas.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, his hands folded between his legs.

Cas takes a seat next to Dean, hands clasped, and in his lap but he. Twiddles his thumbs, a nervous tick he developed as a human that he can’t get rid of of, “I-” but he doesn’t know what to say. Or where to start. Or how to explain it. Or if he even wants too. Because as soon as he starts to think about it again, the heaviness is back in his chest, and the warmth in his eyes returns, “-I can’t…”

He takes a moment to compose himself, to settle the heavy beating of his heart, and stares up at the ceiling. He takes a couple of breaths before looking over at Dean, his deep green eyes studying him, not judging, but observing, paying attention to every little move Cas makes. Cas looses his breath looking at him and how alluring his gaze is, so he focuses back on his hands and whispers, “I don’t believe this is something Jack can fix.”

“Why not let him try?”

“Would I be of more use to you if he succeeded?” Cas snaps before he could think and looks over to Dean again. The hurt in his eyes not gone unnoticed, but the pending answer in them tugged on his heart.

“It’s not about you being useful. It’s about you being you,” he replies in his defensive tone.

Cas sighs and looks back down to his hands. When he first lost his ability to fly it felt a lot like imprisonment. Human transportation is slow and tedious. Dean’s music and rambling did pass the time rather pleasantly, and he will admit that he does like his off key singing, enjoys it even, however it was no comparison to being able to “zap” places in a matter of milliseconds. The freedom to go anywhere in the universe at anytime whenever he wanted. Even after all these years, driving still makes him feel claustrophobic at times, something that will still probably take a while to get used to.

“Cas, you got to know you’re not here to be useful right?” Cas looks back up at him. The frown set in his brows mimicing the slight tinge of panic and worry in his voice.

Cas squints his eyes and frowns a little himself, “Of course I do,” and looks back down at his lap, “that was unfair of me to say, I apologise.”

“Good,” Dean says rather shortly.

“Besides,” Dean starts again, bumping their shoulders together, “I hated being zapped places anyways.”

Cas chuckles a little at his response, remembering Dean’s complaints of not being able to poop after they travelled together, or the uneasiness he felt in his stomach, or the one time his ear didn’t stop ringing for a whole day. Humans weren’t really designed for teleportation. But still, the weight of what he’s lost weighs heavily on his heart and mind. Always there in amongst the background noise. Deep down he knows he’s not kept around to be useful, but the guilt still lingers in the space between them whenever they have a long drive ahead, or rare ingredients to find for whatever spell they need.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“What for?”

“For telling Metatron where to find you and Sam…”

“But you didn’t…”

Cas turns to him then, “but I would have. I almost had. And for that, I am sorry.”

“Cas-”

“No Dean. I think about that moment all too often. The pain is something I will never forget, but I would have never forgiven myself had something happened to you because of my wrong doings… again.”

Dean didn’t try to protest again. Instead he places his hand over Cas’. It wasn’t until then he realises how tightly he had clenched them together. He allowed himself to relax a little, the warmth and slight clamminess of Dean’s touch grounding him.

“Can I see?” Deans voice, barely above a whisper, breaks through their silence.

“What?” Cas asks, more shocked that Dean would even want to see his broken wings than he is that he asked at all.

A blush fills Dean’s face faintly as he pulls his hand away but in spite of his obvious embarrassment he asks again, “can I see them?”

“I… it’s- they’re not… visually appealing…” he says, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat, “I don’t think you’ll be able to see them anyway…”

“So?” Dean asks, pleading green eyes begging Cas to fulfil his request.

Cas’s heart beat heavier and faster in his chest, his stomach turned a little making him feel slightly nauseated but he stood before he could talk himself out of it, because how could he deny Dean anything?

“Fine, but not here. I need more space…” and leads the way out of his room and down the hallway towards the garage.

“More space…?” He hears Dean mumble behind him.

Sam and Jack were no longer in the common areas, and for that he was thankful. Between Jack’s sympathetic need to help, and Sam’s guilt filled eyes, he’d rather not have to face either of them.

Cas opens the door to the garage and lets Dean in first. As he closes the door after him as Dean turns the lights on, but Cas immediately turns them back off, plunging the room into complete darkness, “dude?”

“No lights,” Cas says walking passed Dean towards the impala.

“Then how will you even se-”

Dean stops abruptly as Cas turns the headlights of the impala on, plunging the room into a soft yellow glow. He turns around to face him, still standing at the door.

Dean, after a moment of adjustment, makes his way over with a confused frown on his face, “oh, yeah, sure, we can’t use the free electricity, but yeah, let’s drain baby’s battery,” he mumbles under his breath, but Cas can hear it regardless of his volume.

“Humans cannot perceive an angels true form, as you already know, but you can see the shadows…” he starts, shrugging off his trench coat, folding it neatly and places it on the hood of the car.

“Shadows?” Dean asks, arms crossed while he watches Cas. He shrugs off his suit jacket and ignores the fluttering in his stomach as Dean’s eyes track his every move.

“Yes, Dean, you will only be able to see the shadows they create, not how they actually look,” he folds the jacket up neatly too and starts undoing his tie.

“Wait, Cas, hang on,” Dean says now standing in front of him, “are you-? I was asking about your scars…”

Cas freezes, stomach dropping, his fingers still on the knot of his tie, and looks into Dean’s eyes. A wave of embarrassment floods through him and warms his face and chest, definitely reddening.

“You were willing to show me your wings?” He asks incredulously, as if it’s the most sacred thing that Cas could do for him. And it kind of is. Exposing himself this willingly, and openly, is kind of intimate. He has never voluntarily showed anyone or any angel his wings without the intent of intimidating them. He imagines this is how humans would feel when they are perceived completely naked for the first time, excited but terrified all at once.

“I-” he tries to speak but his voice cracks, stopping him. How could he not have understood what Dean was asking of him? Does Dean even realise how profound it is for him to show him his wings? Would he even appreciate the weight of such an act?

“Cas,” he says breathlessly and my goodness does Cas love the way his name sounds that way, “Isn’t this… a big deal?”

Cas swallows the lump in his throat and continues undoing his tie, more so as something for his hands to do instead of standing still and awkward, “…yeah.” He says pulling the fabric from around his neck and rolls it up in his hands.

“You… are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to do this…” Dean says taking the tie out of his hands and leaning into his line of sight to catch his eyes.

Cas takes a breath and looks Dean up and down, “I trust you,” he says slowly and takes the folded tie back from Dean and places it with his other clothes, beginning to undo the buttons to his shirt.

He untucks the fabric from his pants to reach the last button and shrugs himself out of the sleeves, catching the way Dean averts his gaze when he notices Cas looking at him.

A slight flush fills Dean’s cheeks as he awkwardly runs his fingers through his hair and down to the back of his neck, “well… what do you need?”

Cas grabs him by the elbow and pulls Dean along to the front of the car, standing back to the hood between the headlights, “your patience.” Is all he says as he turns to walk towards the empty wall a few meters in front of the car, but Dean grabs a hold of his arm before he could walk away.

“Jesus, Cas,” is all he says and Cas can’t help but tense, knowing he’s looking at the pair of pink parallel scars that run down from just below his shoulder to half way down his back. From what Cas could see by looking in the bathroom mirror, they’re thick and viscous, and were nearly impossible to heal due to the angelicness of the wound.

Dean drops his grip on him and Cas takes it as his cue to continue on, so he does, ignoring the heat in his face and tingling where Dean held him.

He stands about a meter in front of the wall, just enough space for the shadows to appear higher than his body so Dean could actually see them, and kneels to the ground. He sits on his feet and place his hands on his thighs and hangs his head low, he doesn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face when he realises just how broken he really is.

So he closes his eyes and relaxes his upper body and summons his grace. He takes a moment to prepare himself before imagining his wings unfolding and extending wide, like a big stretch first thing in the morning.

His left wing opens easily, smoothly and wide. His right, however, cracks a little like the popping of the knuckles in his fingers, and pinches at the joint before expanding out. Cas only winces slightly as a shock of pain runs down the bone and into his shoulder blade as he stretches it out for the first time in months. A wave of instant relief washes over him as he lengthens them both wide and high and displays them for Dean.

A gasp in front of him has him squeezing his eyes shut and his stomach stirring. He knows they’re not pretty to look at. His right has no feathers left, just soft fur like skin covering the bone. It’s bent in the middle where the bone was forcefully snapped, and a couple of inches shorter at the end where Metatron’s followers had begun to amputate it. His left one, however, has a couple of feathers that have slowly begun to grow back along the tip of his wing, some long, some very short and some of them fluffy. Most of them fall out after a few weeks of growth, keeping their length short. Some have fallen out now as he’s opened them up, the floor to his left littered with white gold specs of a fur like substance, almost like dust, in the reflection of the lights.

The burning returns behind his eyelids and his heart stutters in his chest. Time feels like it moves far too slow as Cas kneels on the ground before Dean, as bare as an angel can be before a human. He keeps his head low and his eyes clenched until Dean whispers, “Castiel,” into the thickness of the air between them.

He can’t help but look up at Dean through his tear filled eyes at the echo of his full name on Dean’s lips. A name he hasn’t heard Dean call him since the angels fell. A name that, he’s been called for centuries, all of a sudden sounds foreign to his own ears.

But Dean’s eyes don’t meet his, they dart from his left to his right, taking in what little of his true from he can see. Wide, and curious, and beautiful green eyes sparkling in the refraction of light coming from Castiel’s grace.

He bows his head again and mutters low on his breath, “I did say they are not pleasing to observe.”

“No,” Dean says earnestly. Cas doesn’t lift his head when he hears Dean’s boots on the floor treading closer his way. Not even as Dean kneels on the floor in front of him. But two hands cup his cheeks ever so gently, as if he were made of glass, and slowly lifts his head up to meet his gaze. This close, Cas can see the blue of his own eyes shining back at him through Dean’s, bright and blue and…

“No, they’re beautiful,” Dean declares breathlessly.

Cas’s mouth opens slightly in astonishment as his eyes well up and his vision blurs softly.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispers as the tears fall silently from Cas’s eyes, down his cheeks, and into the palm of Dean Winchester’s hands, “thank you,” he adds and the admiration in Dean’s voice makes it harder for Cas to keep himself together, as a soft sob escapes his lips.

Dean wipes away his eyes with the pads of his thumb before pulling his hands away to rest on his own thighs and Cas looses his breath at the sight of the righteous man on his knees before him; open, and authentic, and nothing but the purest of intentions.

“Dean…” Cas starts but doesn’t know what to say, or how to express his gratitude.

Dean shakes his head, “no, Cas. You don’t have to say anything,” he says in a low hushed tone, his eyes flicking back up to the broken one.

“…Does it… hurt?” He asks timidly.

Cas nods slowly, “A little…”

Dean nods at that and squints at the shadow, brows deepening ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Cas asks tilting his head to the side, trying to get a better read on him.

“No-nothing. I- I can kinda see ‘em,” he stutters still squinting.

Cas squirms a little under the scrutiny, “how do you mean…?”

“There’s a…” he pauses, perhaps trying to find the right words, “A-a shimmer? I guess? Kinda like.. looking through water…” he says pinching his eyes as if focusing too hard put strain on them.

Cas couldn’t help but smile tenderly at the man before him. Very rare is it that a human can see an angels true form. Even a slight peak at such a being will burn the eyes right out of their socket, melting the surrounding tissue and vessels. He’s not sure whether it has to do with Dean being the chosen vessel himself, or their profound bond, but a part of him isn’t even surprised at all that Dean can see that much. He wonders if maybe he could perceive more…

“Try and touch them?” Cas suggests quietly.

Dean gapes at him, “what?”

Cas blushes and adverts his gaze down to his hands, “I don’t know if you can… but you may try.”

He chances a look back up to Dean’s face, staring mesmerised back at him, “You sure?”

Cas can only nod his encouragement. He watches Dean process his request, the way he licks his lips before gulping and taking a deep breath as he glances up at Cas’ unharmed wing. And then ever so slowly, almost like if he moved too fast he would scare Cas away, he reaches his hand up. Cas doesn’t think anything would happen, maybe a slight ripple in the current, or a slight rush of wind as he passes through the ‘shimmer’ but when Dean’s fingertips graze the surface of delicate skin, Cas gasps. Dean’s pulls his hand back suddenly and almost like an electric shock running through his body, Cas squints his eyes closed as the most intense wave of pleasure coursed a through him. He clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, and steadies his breathing.

“Cas!” Dean calls out but to Cas it sounds distant and muffled. Dean calls for him again and Cas snaps his eyes open, Dean’s hand on his shoulder, the other on his knee. He hadn’t noticed he had put his hands on him, and now his face is mere inches from his, “hey, what the hell, man?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs shaky and a little panicked, “I didn’t think anything would happen,” he admits sheepishly.

“Are you okay?” Dean pulls himself back but his eyes don’t leave his face, worried for what might happen if he looks away.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” Cas gives Dean a once over. He appears to be fine…

“Yeah, no, I’m good, I thought I hurt you…” he admits and Cas sighs in relief, glad no harm came to Dean.

“No, no it didn’t hurt…” he says, confused, remembering what he felt… “it was…” electric? Chilling? “…overwhelming…” he settles on.

Dean nods, still not entirely convinced.

“I would like for you to try again.”

“Oh- n-no, no way,” Dean says moving to stand, but Cas reaches out, his hand grabbing his thigh stopping him in his tracks, “Please,” but the sudden movement causes Cas’s wings to flow with the movement making him wince and grunt in pain, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, at the ache running down the right side of his body.

“Cas-”

“I’m okay. I just moved to quick,” he says slowly pulling back, Dean still watching his every move.

“Cas I- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wont,” he says assuredly sitting back up straight.

Dean still looks unconvinced though, his brows frowned in a deep, worried, line, jaw clenched, eyes wide and watching, “stop me if I do.” It’s not a question, but a demand. He’s telling him to stop him, knowing that if he asks, Cas would probably let him go on even if it hurts. So Cas nods his agreement and braces himself, trying to keep his body relaxed, expecting the sensations this time to come.

He keeps his eyes opened this time as Dean’s hand reaches out, trembling ever so slightly, and pauses right before he makes contact. They lock eyes and Cas can see the anxiety, plain as day, in Dean’s. He gives him the smallest upturn of his lips, encouraging him as gently as he can to continue. He hears Dean suck in a breath before ever so slowly reaching forward again until his fingertips, in a feather like touch, graze Cas’s skin ever so lightly. A feeling, almost like a tickle, dances on the skin where his fingers sit before it bolts like a shiver down his spine, soft but intense, new, and unfamiliar.

Cas shudders at the feeling, as Dean applies more pressure, still soft, still gentle, and strokes up just a little. Cas can feel the feathers pull and turn under Dean’s fingertips and it sends an almost feverish feeling down his wing and into his chest. Cas can’t help but gasp at the same time Dean exhales a, “woah.” His eyes begin to prick in the corners, and his breathing picks up pace as his grace begins to quiver, a slight tremor forming throughout his body. He squeezes his eyes shut as to not blind Dean by the bright white light glowing from within them, as a faint running softly echoes throughout the garage.

Dean pulls his hand back nervously, “hey,” he says softly, “what’s happening?”

“Sorry,” Cas whispers, tensing, trying to regain control over his grace before his reaction accelerates further gaining the attention of the other occupants of the bunker. His fists clench hard against his thighs, the muscles in his arms so tense they feel like they’re burning. He tries to focus on breathing but his body feels heavy, almost like he’s being crushed. The air feels thick, as if he’s underwater, though he can feel his body shaking, struggling to contain him. He mutters a few words of Enochian low to himself repeatedly in an attempt ground himself, but it’s not until Dean’s hands, one on his right shoulder, another on his left thigh just above his knee squeeze him gently that he can feel his body calming down, relaxing once again.

“Sorry,” Cas whispers again, his face warm and wet. He wipes at his cheek and looks at his hand, expecting a crimson streak of blood, but it’s just water, tears. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying… again. He had never done such a thing in front of Dean, or ever really, and now he’s up to number three for the day alone.

“What just happened?” Dean asks pulling back and giving Cas back his space.

Cas wipes his face dry and folds his wings back away, cringing again as his broken one collapses weakly into itself and tucks away. His timing couldn’t be more perfect, as the door to the garage swings open, and in storms Sam with an Angel Blade gripped firmly in his hand and Jack standing ready behind him, “what the hell was that?” He demands walking further into the garage, looking around. Cas’ stomach sinks with anxiety, and nervous disappointed that he had created enough of a disturbance to concern Sam and Jack.

Dean stands up then, leaving Cas still kneeling on the ground. He takes the opportunity to lean into his shadow, blocking the headlights from his view.

“Um… what’re you guys doing?” Jack asks curiously taking in the sight of a half naked kneeling Cas in front of Dean.

“Nothing,” Dean says in his usual gruff macho tone that implied ‘none of your damn business’ as he steps to the side to block the boy’s view of Cas.

Sam raises his eyebrows at the sight of them, and what a sight that must be. It doesn’t help that Cas is flushed and a little out of breath either…

“Are we interrupting sex?” Jack asks amusedly, and honestly, Cas can’t even blame him for coming to the conclusion. That doesn’t stop him from leaning from behind Dean’s stance to frown at the kid, squinting his eyes slightly as if to say, ‘why would you even ask such a thing.’

Sam scoffs as Dean chokes and sputters for a response other than a defensive, “No.”

“Then what are you doing?” Sam asks chuckling amusedly, the same smirk still plastered on his face as he watches Dean squirm under his gaze.

Dean stammers for a response, clearly uncomfortable sharing with Sam what they were actually doing. Cas takes the opportunity to slowly stand from his position on the floor, brushing off the dust and dirt from his hands onto his pants. He waves his hands over his knees and within a matter of seconds, his pants are clean again.

“An exercise in trust,” Cas says walking to meet Dean at the hood of the car, reaching around behind him for his shirt.

“And the sounds just now?” Sam asks, body language becoming defensive.

“Me,” is all Cas offers up, shrugging his shirt back on and begins buttoning it. It’s mundane tasks such as this when he’d rather participate in the experience of doing it himself rather than using his powers.

Sam scoffs at his response, looking away from him, towards Jack, and shakes his head, “fine. Yeah. Okay. Good. Well just… we’ll leave you to it…”

Cas only feels slightly bad as Sam gestures for Jack to follow him, exiting the garage.

Jack looks between Cas and Dean, and smiles cheekily before waving them goodbye and following Sam out of the room.

Dean sighs in relief beside him and turns to face Cas, running a hand through his hair, “jeez, did you have to be so short with him?” He walks over to the door, leaving Cas still buttoning his top, and flicks the overhead lights on.

“Would you rather I have told him what we were doing?” Cas asks, tucking in his shirt to his pants when Dean rejoins him and turns the Impala’s lights off. He did not answer him, though Cas knew that he wouldn’t when he asked it.

Instead he deflects, “can’t you just mojo yourself back into those,” he asks handing Cas his tie.

“Thank you. I prefer the manual labour,” he wraps the tie around his neck, only a little confused on which way it’s supposed to face before the knot is tied, deciding that he doesn’t really care which way it faces, before tucking one side over the other and looping it through.

Dean huffs, and Cas knows he’s watching him mess up the knot. Suddenly aware of the eyes on him, he looses his focus and decides to undo it and mojo it on later.

“Dude, give it here,” he offers and gently swats Cas’ hands out of the way. Cas looks down at Dean’s hands, watching as he carefully measures the length of the fabric, pulling the thicker side down much further than Cas had it before crisscrossing them.

He lifts his head, looking up at Dean then, giving him a little more room at the collar to work with. This close, he could see everything so clearly, so perfectly. How long and fine his eyelashes are, how they perfectly dust the tops of his cheekbones as he focuses on the task at hand. He could see all the different shades of green that made up the iris of Dean’s beautiful eyes. All of the individual hairs that built the perfect stubble across Dean’s jaw. The slight dryness of Dean’s lips and all the fine lines and wrinkles in them. He could practically count all the freckles that glitter Dean’s face. Of course he’s familiar with every single one of them, but it’s still beautiful to be able to carefully examine them this closely. Beautiful. Dean had called him that earlier. And it had made his heart yearn for more, more of Dean, more of their connection, just… more.

Dean clears his throat then and a light flush of pink begins to spread across his cheeks and nose, as he taps Cas’ chest, signifying that he was done. Cas blinks out of his little daze and lookes down at the perfectly tied knot, “thank you.”

Dean smiles a little awkwardly and chuckles nervously taking a couple of steps back to lean against the side of his car.

Cas finishes dressing himself, shrugging on his jacket, followed by his coat and tucking his hands in his pockets and joins Dean, leaning against the frame next to him.

“So uh….” Dean starts, and chuckles nervously, cutting himself off.

Castiel remains silent next to him, allowing him the space to find the words on his own.

“How… what was it like?”

Cas glances at Dean beside him, face flushed, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the floor in front of them.

Cas smiles to himself and looks ahead, admiring the vintage cars in front of them, “good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas sighs. He could practically feel the relief rolling off of Dean.

“So the…” he trails off waving one of his hands in front of him. Cas frowns at his hand, not really sure what he’s asking him but patiently waits for him to continue.

“The shaking… and the ringing…?”

“Yes,” Cas says and nods, looking at the ground in front of him. He feels his face and chest warm as the feelings rush back through him momentarily.

“No one has ever touched them before. It was quite sensitive… overstimulating, if you will.”

“So not painful?”

“No, not at all. Just… overwhelming.”

“Good… that’s… that’s good.”

“It was.”

Silence falls between them, but neither of them move. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Dean looks around the garage, his eyes darting from one object to another, yet he makes no effort to move.

“Would you like some time alone?” He asks, not sure if he’s made Dean uncomfortable or not… He’s gotten pretty well at reading a situation but sometimes, in moments like these, he’s not sure what the appropriate social protocol is.

“No!” He says quickly followed by a nervous laugh, “ah… no. But I think I need to get out for a bit…” he admits pushing himself off the car.

“Come for a drive?” He says patting the roof of his car, leaving his arm resting along the frame, “she needs fuel, and we need snacks.”

Cas nods as Dean opens the door and folds himself in.

Cas takes a breath before pushing himself off and joining him in the vehicle as Dean turns the key and she rumbles to life.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types away at it whilst the garage opens. Once she’s finished, his shoves his phone back in his pocket and explains, “let Sam know, just in case,” and they make their way through the tunnel, down a few side streets and onto the open road.

With the windows down, whatever tape in the deck turned down low, and the comfortable silence between them, Cas doesn’t feel so trapped. The wind in his face and through his hair feels rather nice, refreshing even, cool against his flushed skin.

Dean beside him looks much more relaxed too, although, he usually always did when they were on the road. His fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the door, half out the window. He looks at peace almost. And he drives like this the short distance to the fuel station.

Cas gets out of the car with Dean and leans against the side while Dean fills it, “I’m thinking jerky, popcorn, and pork rinds. What do you want?” Cas thinks about it for a moment… as a human he enjoyed the tastes of sweet foods, not the greesy stuff or salty stuff Dean liked. But now that he’s himself again, food doesn’t really taste the same… nor does it elicit the same emotional enjoyment… As a human he could ignore the individual molecules, but now it’s hard to get past it. However, their last movie night, the sweet popcorn Dean made him try was rather delicious.

“What was the popped corn we had when we watched the movie with the robots?”

Dean rolls his eyes at him and groans as he hangs the pup back up, “transformers, dude! And it was kettle korn, the caramel flavour I think. Is that what you want?”

“Please.”

They walk in together, Dean stuffing his arms with different flavoured jerkies and popcorn and chips. He makes Cas grab two soft drinks from the fridge and a no sugar flavoured water for Sam and at the counter he grabs a container of plum pie and a salad bowl.

Their items are handed back to them in one big bulging bag that thankfully doesn’t bust as they walk back to the car.

“Wait Cas, before we leave,” Dean stops him just before they part ways to get into the car.

Cas turns to him, curious, but a little worried seeing the frown on his face.

He digs through his pocket and dangles the keys between them, “I want you to drive.”

Cas’ mouth and stomach drops a little in surprise, his heart thumping away heavily in his chest. Dean barely lets Sam drive the impala, and now he’s handing him the keys.

“Dean,” Cas starts but he’s at a loss for words.

“Seriously. You shared something so… so big with me and I want to do the same for you,” his cheeks flush a soft shade of rosey pink at the admission and all Cas can do is stare at him gobsmacked.

“I mean… it’s not really the same thing… but this is all I have,” he says, beginning to backtrack, “and I trust you, too, Cas. I do. So please,” he jingles the keys and Cas reluctantly takes them.

“You don’t have to do this,” is all he says as Dean already walks to the passenger door.

Cas looks down at the silver keychain in his hand and looks back up at Dean who isn’t paying him any attention, or trying not to anyway. He nods to himself and takes his new place in the drivers seat, the weight of what this means to Dean not lost on him. Cas checks his mirrors, only having to adjust the rear view, and turns the key. The car rumbles to life once more, purring under Castiel’s hands. He grips the wheel tight and slowly rolls it out of the station, carful to angle it going down the drive so he doesn’t scrape it before slowly accelerating once on the road.

“You can loosen the death grip,” Dean chuckles from beside him.

Cas becomes aware of how tense he is and wipes his clammy hands, one by one, on his thighs. He adjust his grip and rolls his shoulder slightly, trying to loosen the anxiety in him.

“Sorry…”

“Why are you nervous?”

Cas glances over Dean’s way briefly, their eyes meeting for a slow second before he turns back to the road.

“I am not accustomed to driving and this is your prized possession,” he replies as if it answers all of Dean’s questions.

Dean chuckles softly again.

They pull at a red light and Cas is glad for the break. His hands had started to become sweaty and tight around the wheel again. He wipes them on his pants and returns them as the light flicks to green. As he takes off, a vehicle flies past in front of him, running the red. Cas gasps and slams on the breaks, Dean barely having enough time to brace himself against the dash as Cas narrowly stops in time before they are hit. Cas can’t move. There’s a vehicle behind him, honking, but Cas is struck still, his breathing heavy and hard in his lungs, body rigid.

“Cas, you gotta go buddy,” Dean says to him, but it’s muffled and distant. The car eventually drives around them, honking as they continue, but Cas still can’t move.

Dean gets out and walks around to his side, “shuffle over,” he says but Cas can’t move his hands from the wheel.

Dean reaches in front of him and puts it in park and nudges his shoulder, “move over,” he says again. He gently takes Cas’s hands off of the wheel which snaps Cas back into the moment. He clenches his fists a few times to loosen them up and slides into the passenger seat, his whole body hot and sweaty, uncomfortably so.

Dean drives them out of the intersection and pulls over after they’ve cleared it. He parks the car again and turns to Cas, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on the wheel, “we’re okay.”

Cas nods into his lap as the embarrassed tears well in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he voices again.

Cas nods into his lap again as a hand gingerly cups his cheek, gently moving his head so he can look at him.

“You are okay.”

Cas takes in a deep breath then and blinks away the tears. He refuses to cry in front of Dean Winchester one more time today.

“You did everything right. I’m not mad. You saved us from a wreck. Okay?”

‘His first near miss,’ he thinks as he huffs out a breath.

“Okay?” Dean presses once more.

“Okay,” Cas whispers back.

“Do you want to keep driving?”

Cas immediately shakes his head, “no. No thank you.”

“That’s okay… but when you feel confident again, we can try again.”

“No thank you,” Cas says turning away to face the passenger window.

Dean squeezes Cas’s shoulder before he turns back in his own seat and pulls them back onto the road, “yes. I have rebuilt this thing from the ground up more times than I can count. That back there, not your fault. And even if that dick did hit us, yes I would be pissed, but not at you. And I would have fixed it, okay. There’s been nothing wrong with my baby that I haven’t been able to fix, okay. So yes, maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but I want to share this with you, okay.”

Cas looks over at Dean then. The sincerity in his voice tugging on his heart.

“Please don’t let this discourage you,” he adds as they share a brief moment of eye contact. All Cas can do is watch Dean. He can’t speak, at a loss for words once more, so he just watches him. Watches his relaxed form even after their near miss, one hand on the wheel, and the other reaches over, palm down in front of Cas. He looks down at it confused but opens both of his anyway, not really sure what Dean’s looking for. Cas looks back over to him as Dean looks over at their hands quickly and takes Cas’ left hand in his, intertwining their fingers and holding on firmly. Cas does the same and he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips, a new heaviness swells in his chest.

They drive the rest of the way home like this, Dean only using one hand to park the car back in the garage, and Cas couldn’t help but be amazed at how easily Dean could reverse park one handed. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand as he turns the car off, but he doesn’t let go just yet.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Cas nods, his heart still beating erratically at their intertwined hold, although the feeling is nothing compared to what Dean does next. He squeezes Cas’s hand once more and lifts his hand to his lips. Cas gasps softly as Dean closes his eyes and places a gentle kiss on the back of Cas’s hand.

Dean chuckles nervously as he releases Cas’s hand, “I bet Sam’s waiting on us,” he says low and hushed, neither of them making an effort to move, Cas not wanting their time alone to come to an end. He did forget that it was Sam’s turn to pick what movie they were watching tonight. He never did find his choices interesting, but it would be worth it to spend the evening next to Dean.

They share one last sweet smile before Dean sighs, “come on,” and they join the boys who were already sat in the Dean cave, just about to start the movie without them. Jack on a beanbag to the left of the TV, Sam in the arm chair next to him, leaving Dean to sit in the other arm chair, and Cas takes residence with a pillow to sit on in front of Dean and between his legs. Sometime through the movie, Cas leans his head back against the seat, Dean’s hands running through his hair. He shuts his eyes, and focuses on the sensations, his breathing becoming even, and all thoughts pushed to the back of his brain. And though he may not technically be asleep, it’s as close to it as an angel could get, blessed to be at the hands of Dean Winchester.

[domm1etae]

Possession

welcome to domm1etae's kinktober day 1 : SIZE KINK

hongjoong x f!reader

2.7k

when Y/N gets too close to a friend at a gathering, Hongjoong’s quiet jealousy simmers beneath the surface, leading to an intense confrontation as soon as they’re alone

nsfw tags under

m/f, top hongjoong, bottom reader, vaginal sex, rough sex, dominance, submission, size kink, possession, jealousy, dirty talk, power play, manhandling, orgasm control, claiming kink, breath play, control, pet names, kissing

Requests OPEN! - let me know through the ask button if you have any requests for this Kinktober

author's note: this was suggested by @arki-sha in my comments. here is the original prompt:

Possessive!Hongjoong + Size Kink I really think that HJ would really go feral if his partner is someone who is smaller than him like he would really use their size difference to his advantage since he can't use it that often to others since he is usually much shorter and smaller than his members.

navigation | kinktober masterlist

Y/N could tell something was off with Hongjoong the moment they arrived at the gathering. He was quiet, almost too quiet, which was unusual for him. She knew him well enough to sense when something was brewing beneath the surface. But Hongjoong wasn’t the type to cause a scene in front of others—he held his emotions close to his chest until they were alone.

The night went on, and Y/N found herself laughing along with one of their friends, a guy she’d known for years. He had a harmless charm about him, always cracking jokes and lightening the mood. She nudged him playfully when he made some ridiculous comment, not thinking twice about it—until she caught a glimpse of Hongjoong from across the room.

His eyes were on them, sharp and unblinking, his jaw set in a tight line. Y/N’s stomach flipped. She hadn’t meant to upset him, but she could feel the jealousy radiating off him in waves. Hongjoong was possessive by nature, especially when it came to her. He wasn’t controlling, but the idea of someone else getting too close to her—especially another man—always triggered something primal in him.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Y/N tried to engage Hongjoong in conversation, hoping to smooth things over, but he remained distant. His replies were short, and the tension between them grew thicker with each passing minute. She could see it in the way his eyes darkened every time the other guy spoke to her, the way his hand gripped his glass just a little too tight.

She knew he was holding back, but she also knew that once they were alone, he wouldn’t hold back anymore.

As soon as they said their goodbyes and got into the car, the silence was suffocating. Y/N glanced over at Hongjoong, trying to read his expression, but he was staring straight ahead, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Joong, are you okay?” she asked softly, already knowing the answer.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, in a voice low and rough, he said, “Do I look okay?”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling a mix of guilt and apprehension. She hadn’t meant to make him jealous, but she also knew there was no point in trying to defend herself right now. Hongjoong’s possessiveness had taken over, and once that switch was flipped, there was only one way it would end.

The ride home felt like it stretched on forever, and the second they stepped through the front door, Hongjoong’s hand was on her wrist, pulling her towards him with a firm, almost desperate grip.

“We need to talk,” he growled, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and something darker, something possessive.

Y/N’s heart raced as she nodded, letting him lead her into the living room. His body was tense, his movements sharp, and she could feel the weight of his jealousy pressing down on her like a storm about to break.

“Do you have any idea what you were doing tonight?” Hongjoong’s voice was low, but there was an edge to it that made Y/N’s pulse quicken. He released her wrist and began pacing in front of her, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “Laughing with him, touching him like that—do you think I wouldn’t notice? Do you think I wouldn’t care?”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat. She knew trying to explain herself would only make things worse. Instead, she swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice calm. “Joong, I didn’t mean anything by it. We were just talking.”

“Talking?” he spat the word like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He stopped pacing and turned to face her, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “You were practically all over him, Y/N. And he was eating it up, wasn’t he? Acting like he had a chance.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice soft but firm. “He’s just a friend. You know that.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, towering over her. “I don’t care,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t want him or anyone else that close to you. You’re mine, Y/N. Only mine.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as he closed the distance between them, his hand sliding up to cup her face, his touch gentle but his grip firm enough to let her know he wasn’t playing around. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, his eyes dark and full of that possessive heat that always made her heart race.

She could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, a storm of jealousy and desire swirling just beneath the surface. Her heart pounded in her chest, knowing what was coming next, knowing that Hongjoong wasn’t just angry—he was possessive in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and exhilarated.

“Do you have any idea what it does to me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “to see someone else touching you? Even just for a second?”

Y/N couldn’t tear her gaze away from him, her pulse quickening under the intensity of his stare. “Joong…”

His fingers slid down her neck, wrapping lightly around her throat. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make her feel small, completely at his mercy. “Do you know what I was thinking about the whole time?” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “I was thinking about how I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this. How no one else can make you feel the way I do.”

Y/N’s knees felt weak as his hand tightened just a little, his grip commanding and possessive. She could feel the heat of his body pressing against hers, the intensity of his jealousy driving him to take control, to remind her who she belonged to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

His eyes darkened, and a slow, predatory smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, you will be.”

Before she could react, Hongjoong’s lips crashed against hers, the kiss hard and possessive, his hands moving to grip her hips, pulling her flush against him. His fingers dug into her skin, not painful but insistent, as if he needed to feel every inch of her under his control.

Y/N melted into the kiss, her hands gripping his shoulders as his possessiveness fueled the fire between them. She could feel his jealousy in every movement, every rough touch, as if he was trying to erase the memory of anyone else being close to her.

Without breaking the kiss, Hongjoong pushed her backwards, guiding her towards the bedroom. His lips never left hers, his hands wandering over her body with a kind of urgency that made Y/N’s head spin. The second they reached the bed, he pulled away, leaving her breathless and dazed as he stood over her, his chest heaving.

“You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “No one else gets to have you like this.”

Y/N could barely breathe as she watched him, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew what was coming, and the thought sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. Hongjoong wasn’t just going to make love to her—he was going to claim her, to remind her of her place in his arms.

He undressed quickly, his movements sharp and precise, and within moments, he was standing over her, fully bare. Y/N’s eyes widened as she took him in, the sight of his body making her pulse race. Hongjoong wasn’t the biggest man physically, but right now, with the intensity in his eyes and the way he loomed over her, he felt massive.

He crawled over her, his body pressing her into the mattress as he pinned her wrists above her head. “You’re so tiny beneath me,” he murmured, his voice full of dark satisfaction. “Perfectly made for me.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she felt his hands roaming over her body, his touch rough and possessive. Every stroke of his fingers sent a thrill through her, reminding her of just how much control he had over her in this moment.

“Hongjoong,” she whimpered, her body arching towards his touch.

He smirked down at her, his eyes gleaming with that same possessive heat. “You crave this, don’t you?” he growled, his hand sliding between her thighs, teasing her until she was trembling beneath him. “You want to feel how much I want you.”

Y/N could only nod, her voice lost in a soft moan as he continued to tease her, driving her to the brink of madness with every touch. She loved the way he made her feel—small, vulnerable, and utterly claimed.

Hongjoong’s fingers ghosted over her skin, teasingly slow as he traced the curve of her waist, then down to her thighs. His eyes never left hers, dark with desire and something more primal, more intense. He relished this—loved seeing her smaller frame beneath him, her body completely at his mercy, helpless to whatever he decided to do next. Y/N’s breath was ragged, each teasing touch driving her closer to the edge, and he knew it. He was enjoying every second of it, watching her squirm under his control.

“Damn, you look irresistible like this,” he murmured, voice deep and rough, his thumb brushing the inside of her thigh, just shy of where she desperately wanted him. “I could lose myself in you, baby.”

Y/N whimpered, her hips shifting involuntarily as she tried to press herself closer to his hand, but he held her down firmly. The look on his face was all dominance, all control. She was his, and he was going to make sure she knew it—every inch of her.

Her mind was spinning, thoughts scattered as her body reacted to every brush of his fingertips. She had never felt so small, so overwhelmed by his presence, and yet it thrilled her to the core. The way Hongjoong looked at her, like she was the only thing in his world, filled her with an intoxicating mix of desire and submission. His jealousy had transformed into something powerful, something that made her feel utterly consumed by him.

“Joong, please…” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper, pleading, but she couldn’t help it. She needed more—needed him to take her completely, to feel him inside her, filling her, claiming her.

His lips curled into a smirk at her desperation, and he leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. “You want me to give you everything, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “What if I want to make you wait a little longer?”

Y/N shuddered, her breath catching as his lips brushed her ear. “You know what you do to me,” she breathed, her body aching for him.

Hongjoong chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “Trust me, I know. And I can’t get enough of it. You’re the only one I want to see like this.” He leaned in closer, his voice lowering. “I want to remind you that no one else can touch you the way I do.”

Without warning, he pushed her legs apart, settling himself between them, his hands gripping her hips with a possessive force that made her gasp. He loved seeing her like this—vulnerable, exposed, completely under his control. His cock was hard, pressing against her entrance, and he took a moment to savor the look on her face, the way her body trembled with anticipation.

“I don’t want you looking at anyone else,” Hongjoong murmured, his lips brushing her neck, kissing, biting softly. “You’re mine, Y/N. Just mine.”

“I know,” she whimpered, her body arching into him, desperate for him to move. “I’m yours, Joong.”

“Good girl,” he muttered, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. And with that, he thrust into her, hard and deep, stretching her in a way that made her gasp, her body tensing as he filled her completely.

Y/N’s head fell back against the pillow, her breath catching in her throat as Hongjoong settled himself fully inside her. The stretch was overwhelming, the feeling of him so deep that it made her toes curl. He didn’t give her time to adjust, though—his hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he started moving, slow at first, but each thrust deliberate, calculated.

“You feel that?” he growled, his eyes locked on hers, his voice low and rough. “That’s me reminding you how much you mean to me.”

Y/N could only moan in response, her body reacting instinctively to the way he took her, each thrust pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She felt so small beneath him, so helpless, and the way Hongjoong’s body pressed down on hers made her feel completely owned. He wasn’t just fucking her—he was claiming her, marking her as his.

With each movement, Hongjoong’s jealousy seemed to fuel his desire, his pace picking up, rougher, more insistent. He thrust deep into her, each motion filling her completely, the size difference between them only heightening the intensity. She couldn’t escape the way he filled her, couldn’t escape his hold, and that thought alone sent waves of heat through her.

“Joong—” Y/N gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he thrust harder, her mind a blur of pleasure and need.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded, his voice a low growl, his pace relentless. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours,” she breathed, her voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “Only yours.”

A dark, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he heard the words he wanted. “That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, leaning down to capture her lips in a bruising kiss. His hand slid down her body, teasingly slow, before it found its way between her legs. His fingers brushed against her clit, and Y/N cried out, her body arching into him as he started to rub slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The combination of his cock thrusting deep inside her and the pressure on her clit sent her spiraling. Her moans grew louder, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as Hongjoong pushed her closer to the edge.

“You’re loving every second of this, aren’t you?” he muttered, his voice rough as he watched her fall apart beneath him. “You love how I make you feel—like you’re the only one in the world.”

Y/N couldn’t respond—she was too overwhelmed, her body trembling with pleasure as Hongjoong continued to thrust into her, his fingers working her clit with precision. She was so close, so close she could feel the tension building inside her, ready to snap at any moment.

“Come for me,” Hongjoong growled, his voice commanding as his pace quickened. “Come for me, baby. Show me how much you need me.”

That was all it took. With a loud, broken moan, Y/N’s body tensed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her walls clenched around him, and Hongjoong cursed under his breath, his thrusts becoming erratic as her body milked him.

The sight of her coming undone beneath him, so small and helpless under his control, sent Hongjoong over the edge. With a deep, guttural groan, he thrust into her one last time, burying himself as deep as he could as he spilled inside her, claiming her in every sense of the word.

For a moment, they stayed like that, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies pressed together as the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away. Hongjoong’s hands loosened their grip on her hips, his touch becoming softer, more tender as he gently pulled out of her and collapsed beside her on the bed.

Y/N’s body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her mind hazy with satisfaction. She turned her head to look at Hongjoong, and to her surprise, his eyes were soft now, the earlier fire of jealousy replaced by something gentler.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re mine,” he whispered, the possessiveness still there but tempered by affection. “Always.”

Y/N smiled, her body relaxing into the warmth of his embrace. “Always,” she echoed, feeling utterly content in his arms.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Seventeen as fake dating scenarios

⟪‘95 + ‘96 line version⟫

other versions: ⟪‘97 + ‘98 + '99 line version⟫

SEUNGCHEOL: saving you from unwanted attention.

You weren’t entirely sure what had possessed you to come to this club that night. It’s not that you didn’t like parties. Rather, you had heard plenty of disturbing rumours about this part of town. And yet, here you were, at the bar, nervously sipping your drink while trying to keep an eye out for your friends.

“Come here often, pretty lady?” came a question from your right, along with a breath that smelled of all kinds of alcohol and freshly smoked tobacco. You willed yourself not to cringe.

“I’m not here to talk to guys like you,” you said and tried to walk away.

He caught your wrist in his hand, pulling you back. “Now, now, no need to be rude. How about I buy you a drink?”

Instead of even considering humouring him, you wondered if anyone would hear you scream over the booming volume of the music. Luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

Your wrist was pulled free from his grasp at a moment’s notice. A broad-shouldered man stood between you and the guy, towering over his seated form, practically oozing with annoyance. “How about you stop hitting on my girl?”

Hold on. Your eyes widened.

He turned to you and offered his hand, smiling kindly before sending you a conspiratory wink. “Let’s go, darling. You said you’d save me a dance before we went home.”

You breathed out, trying your best to not alert the other – possibly much worse – guy. “Right. Let’s go.”

As he led you towards the dance floor, his hand hold yours ever so gently, he told you, “I’m sorry for doing that. You must be scared. I just worried he’d do something to you if I didn’t intervene.”

He seemed nice and attractive enough, you decided after a moment of thought. “Alright. I demand a dance as an apology.”

JEONGHAN: swindling your way through a stupid bet

“Listen, if you do me this favour, I’ll split the money with you, 50/50.”

You should’ve never taken that offer. Not from Yoon Jeonghan. It was taking every ounce of your self-control to not slap his hand every time it came to rest on your waist. You despised this man and everything he did and said and thought. Was 100 bucks worth it?

“Are you guys going to the festival this weekend?” Mingyu wondered, eyeing you two suspiciously. As your best friend, he was more than sceptical and you couldn’t even blame him.

“Of course! My darling is so excited to go see BTOB live. Right, my darling?”

A pinch at your waist reminded you to smile a little nicer and when you turned to “smile” at Jeonghan, you glared at him instead, warning him silently. Two could play that game. Through gritted teeth, you spoke, “Of course. I can’t wait. I hope they perform our song.”

“Our song?”

“Your song?” Mingyu blinked. “You guys have a song? What is it?”

You smiled as innocently as you could, daring Jeonghan to pull you into his shenanigans again. “Yeah, what song is it, my love?”

You were sure every person within a mile of you could hear the gears turning in Jeonghan’s head as he tried to think of a song? “Right. Our song.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows rose in suspicion. “That being?”

Jeonghan relaxed back into his seat. “Of course it’s Movie. (Y/n) and I love to dance to that song. It was our first dance.”

“That’s not a particularly cute song.” Mingyu’s suspicions were rising. 

You reminded yourself that there was 100 bucks on the line and said, “Well, we’re not a particularly cutesy couple. I think Movie suits us: it’s fun!”

“Right! And we always—“ you could feel Jeonghan’s venomous glare as he spoke, “–have so much fun.”

JOSHUA: fake proposal for free dessert

“Do you think they offer free dessert for proposals?”

Joshua caught on quickly, already reaching into his pocket. “Supposedly. Or so I’ve read from about a hundred online reviews. Do you want to or shall I?”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” you suggested and he agreed. A quick game determined that you were the winner.

Joshua sighed and let out a soft whine. “But I’m wearing my good pants.”

“Don’t you dare slack,” you warned him. “I expect a proper proposal, one knee and all.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, but the dessert better be good. And!” He lifted a finger to point it at you almost accusingly. “If you even try to do the “but what about your wife and kids” thing again, I will make sure you'll live to regret it.”

“Oh, come on!” You laughed. “It was one time and I agreed eventually, did I not?”

“Yeah, after embarrassing me.”

“But the waiter gave you even more dessert for your embarrassment,” you pointed out. “So if anything, you kind of owe me.”

“This is the last time I do this with you. Only because I doubt anyone would ever propose to you in any other context.”

“Oh, ouch. Just break my heart while you’re at it.”

JUNHUI: partnering up for amusement park rides

“I’m just saying, you’re lonely, I’m lonely, most rides require people to pair up. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer not to pair up with a complete stranger for every ride.”

He contemplated. “… I hate that you’re kind of right.”

“Okay, perfect. So we’re best friends, going to rides together. Cool?”

“Cool.”

It was not cool. While waiting in line for the newest roller coaster, a sweet middle-aged lady with her daughter tapped on your shoulder to ask you, “You guys are just adorable! How long have you guys been a couple?”

“We’re not—”

"It’s our anniversary today,” Junhui piped up before you could finish your sentence. Your brain completely froze like a 2002 Dell laptop trying to run Minecraft.

Your lack of reaction didn’t stop him. His arm wrapped around you snuggly as he made up an elaborate back-story about how you met while volunteering at a cat shelter and how he asked you out and how he had asked you to move in this morning – none of which was even remotely close to a truth.

“Why would you make all that up?” you asked him as the ride was about to start. “Are you insane?”

He grimaced. “I panicked! Besides – it got us a ride ticket for free, didn’t it?���

“Yeah, because the staff think we’re celebrating our anniversary.”

“Then complain less and remember your back-story. Who knows what other discounts we could get if we keep this up.”

It was then that you realised that you had created a monster.

SOONYOUNG: fake dating to avoid an arranged marriage

“Your Highness, you can’t keep dodging marriage proposals like this. I doubt your parents care that you’re ‘dating’–” he drew air quotes around the word “–the royal pet caretaker.”

“Well, it seems to be working well enough,” you pointed out and affectionately rested your chin against his shoulder as your mother – the queen – passed by the opened doors of the room. You glared after her. “I don’t understand why they want me to marry so bad. It’s not like I’m heir to the throne.”

“And you never will be if you keep acting like we’re an item.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it, Soonyoung,” you scolded him playfully and poked his puffed out cheeks.

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Yeah?” You smiled. “You must love all the perks of dating royalty without actually dating royalty.”

He laughed. “Well, I can’t say no to getting an extra dessert after dinner.”

“There’s my boy.” You hummed in thought. “Should we step it up a bit? For more perks for you and less pressure for me?”

“What do you have in mind, Your Highness?”

“First, stop calling me Your Highness,” he grimaced at the idea, “and second, we have to show them we’re serious about this. We have to step up our game.”

“What exactly do you have in mind, princess?”

You smirked just as you heard your mother’s voice coming closer again. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – whether it was out of his own free will or because this was a royal order, you would never know.

WONWOO: a cover story for an investigation

“I just don’t think that’s right,” Wonwoo said while staring at the board, his brows furrowed in concentration. “What would be her motive?”

“I don’t know. Money?” you suggested between flipping through the pages of the report you'd been sent. “Maybe she was jealous of her husband’s daughter from the previous marriage and—”

The doorbell rang.

“Please be the pizza guy,” you whispered under you breath but hid the report regardless and rushed to the door. You could never be too careful in this line of work.

Instead, Mrs Yoon – the very woman you had been discussing – smiled at you at the door. “Hi, dear! I just came to check on you; I feel like I haven’t seen you all day!”

You forced on a smile. “Wonwoo and I have just been so busy thinking about how to decorate the house – make it more our own, you know?”

“Oh right! Is your darling husband home too? I wasn’t interrupting, was I?” She winked and you didn’t like the implications behind that. She then leaned over to whisper slyly, “Who knows, maybe you’ll need to decorate a nursery soon.”

You gulped. “Oh, not yet, surely. We’re still—We haven’t even—”

“Darling, who is it?” Wonwoo’s voice sounded like the that of an angel coming to save you from this awkward situation. You breathed out in relief as he added, “Can you come help me move this cupboard?”

“Well,” you smiled apologetically, “it sounds like I’m needed. I’d love to catch up tomorrow though!”

“I’ll see you then, sweetheart!” She left with another wink. You could not have closed the door faster.

“She isn’t catching onto us, is she?” Wonwoo wondered when you returned to him.

You slumped into the sofa. “Nope. If anything, she’s buying our cover a little too well.”

JIHOON: fake dating because he lied to his friends

“I still can’t believe you posted an advertisement for a fake girlfriend,” you mused as you watched him working out.

He scoffed. “I still can’t believe you actually responded to it. What if I was a creep?”

“Fair point.” Not that you’d ever admit that you only responded to the ad because you recognised his name and phone number because you had been harbouring a crush on him this entire year. He never had to know. “So, why are we at the gym? Who are we meeting here?”

“Literally all of my friends that matter. So… I don’t know. How does the whole fake dating thing work?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the boss.”

“I don’t know. I assumed that because you answered the ad, you must have some experience.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but unfortunately, I do not have any experience. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Well—” You paused, ears burning all of a sudden. “Not everything everything. Like, I have boundaries but—”

“Ay-yo, Jihoon!” Soonyoung’s familiar voice filled the gym. “Are you ready to get absolutely shredded and—Oh.” The previously loud tiger turned into a shy hamster. “Hi. Who are you?”

“That’s (Y/n),” Jihoon introduced with a smile that just naturally screamed confidence, “my girlfriend. The one I told you about.”

Soonyoung’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you were serious?! You have a girlfriend?!” He turned to you. “Are you really his girlfriend?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, earning a short laugh from you. He then walked over and rested his hand on your shoulder, leaning over to kiss your temple. “Baby, meet Soonyoung. He doesn’t get any less annoying than that.”

NOTE: i wrote these as an attempt to get rid of the stupid writer's block i've been dealing with all month lol

[partytillicry]

Ticci toby x Reader // fem reader

these are general dating and nsfw hc’s so beware!!

TW’s: fighting, slight angst, reader is friends with Nina the Killer, & smut

AN: i love toby sm, he’s def my fav creep. this one is a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂. btw this is half reread so there maybe some mistakes here and there

SFW

toby’s bipolar so a relationship with him is hard but you both work your way through it

he never wants to fight but he can’t control it sometimes

he truly does love but it happens

most of your fights are because he gets jealous or he is just upset about something else

you were laying in bed, just mindlessly scrolling on your phone. reading something that you’d forget a minute later. you were broken from your trance when you heard the door open to see your boyfriend walk in. no hi or hello so you knew something was up.

you immediately got up and walked over to him as Toby was taking off his hoodie and mask. you reached over to his hand to hold it and Toby slapped it away.

“are… you okay? you can talk to me, ya know.” you ask him concerned

“get the fuck away from me.” Toby said firmly. your eyes widened, stepping back and giving him some space. you already knew what was gonna happen next so you just decided to leave

“where the fuck are you going? what? think i’m gonna hurt you or or or or or something? cause i’m ssssssssooOoooOo f-f-f-fucked up?!” Toby yelled. all you did was grab your phone and walk out then booking it to Nina’s room

thats how most of you fights go, he never tries to get physical but it can happen

he apologizes like crazy after, usually with tears cuz he thinks you’ll leave him

and because he’s so nervous and scared, his tic’s are going off like crazy

with all his stuttering, random phrases and sobbing, he’s very hard to understand

you sat on Nina’s floor of her room as she brushed and played with your hair while you talked about what happened. you knew everything would be okay but you were just worried about Toby. you were thinking about asking Slender to lay off on the missions for a while

“look, babes, i know you’re worried about him but you should be worried about yourself too!! how many more fights can you take?” Nina spoke worrying.

“we really don’t fight a lot!! and plus we only do when he’s upset, i know he doesn’t actually want to fight!! you just don’t see how he is after.” you said firmly. it felt weird to defend him but you knew that he wasn’t actually pissed at you

Nina sighs as you pass her a hair tie and she finishes off your braid. you both hear a knock on the door, immediately knowing who it is. you glance back at Nina and she gets up to open the door.

“well hello Toby, i’ve been waiting” Nina says. “you better give her a good apology.” she says firmly but quietly as she walked out. Toby walked in and sat on the floor next to you. you both sat in silence for about a minute.

“i’m so sssSsSsorry, i’m truly sorry. i shouldn’t h-h-have done t-t-that, i had no reason to be maDDd aaaaatt you.” Toby finally spoke up, immediately starting to sob. you sighed, smiling.

“oh baby, im not mad. i know you don’t actually wanna fight.” you said softly. he looked over to you, tears streaming down his dirty face. you cupped his face a wiped away what you could, pulling him into you closer.

“what do you say we hop in the shower, your still covered in dirt and blood.” you said chuckling. all the boy could was nod.

on a happier note! other than the once in a while fights, Toby is actually very sweet but he can get possessive

he’s only somewhat controlling. he doesn’t really like the idea of you belonging to him but you are his

if that even makes sense 😭

he will call stuff like “mine, my love, my baby” etc etc

he’ll let you go out in revealing clothes but he has to be near you at all times

you and Toby were walking around the outside of the mansion (slender wouldn’t you guys leave). you were wearing almost booty shorts and an off the shoulder band tee. Toby thought you looked so cute, he was obsessed with your outfit.

you guys were just holding hands and talking about whatever, Toby leaving an occasional kissing on your hand here and there. it wasn’t that hot out this morning, it was nice. not much wind either. all of the sudden, Toby stopped walking

“what? what happened?” you asked confused. no answer but he let go of your hand and walked up to the corner you guys were about to turn. peeking his head around the corner like a cat only to see Jeff the killer practicing with his knives.

he immediately takes off his hoodie and wraps it around your hips, leaving him with a wifebeater and a pair of baggy cargo shorts on. instead of taking your hand this time, he grabs for your waist

he then starts walking, you following in his lead. you glance over at Jeff then back to Toby and right there, you immediately figured out what was happening. and you couldn’t lie, it was kinda sweet

he’s got a lot of respect for you, and women just in general

like what do you mean you go through horrible pain and bleeding once a month but still have to deal with sexism?

it doesn’t add up for him

he’s always had a respect for women because of his mother and sister being the only reason he actually survived his childhood

he’s always trying to break the gender roles in your relationship

“ no, i can cook today. no, you should be on top. no, im not calling you my bitch. no, ill never call you a bitch.”

he HATES when people call their partner “my bitch” or anything like that

moving on!

bros a cuddle bug

all up and on you whenever and wherever

PDA is his personal favorite

Toby’s top 5 favorite ways to cuddle!:

5: you laying on your stomach while Toby sits on your ass or back

4: him laying on top of you

3: standard spooning (preferably you being little spoon)

2: sitting on your lap or the over way around

1: honeymoon cuddle, which means sleeping sideways and trying to get as close together as possible

it was a pretty busy day at the mansion and Slender had given you chores all day while most of the others were out killing. most of the proxy’s got night missions, which means Toby would be back pretty late. you wanted to be up when he came back so you picked up a book and began to read it.

it was around 11:48pm when Toby came back. he walked into your room to take off his shoes, mask, hoodie, goggles, and leave his axe too. he quickly ran over to you with a heavy breath

you looked up from your book and stared into the boys dark brown eyes. he kissed you passionately, almost starting a makeout session with you. his hands cupped your face as he started kissing you faster. but then he pulled away

“oh g-g-god, i’ve been waiting for that all day. i’m gonna gooOoo showEr, kay? i love you and ill be right back” Toby explained before leaving one more quick kiss on your cheek

when Toby came back and changed into his pjs, he immediately crawled into your arms. he was sat in your lap and was definitely more important than that book you were reading before. you started to rub small circles into his back

“oh love, i’ve been a bit worried about you. i swear, slender needs to stop sending you on these night missions before i get a heart attack.” you said, pressing small kisses onto his face here and there

“babe, i know you don’t like them and believe me, i don’t ether. but please just trust me, ill be okay. i mean slender has sent me on a mission that lasted a week before and i have no doubt it will happen again. these missions are like nothing to me.” the boy reassured you

you smiled, kissing his cold lips passionately. you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. his hands immediately went to your waist, sliding up and down slowly. lets just say you guys made out for the rest of the night

NSFW

this man is a FREAK.

he always makes sure you’re satisfied, you are his top priority

he wants to hold your tits during sex. not grab but just touch ‘em

he loves to involve your tits with the sex. cuming on them, sucking them, playing with them, etc

sucking on them? what kinda freaky shit is this?

he will go CRAZY if you let him suck your tits

toby laid on top of you while pressing small kisses and hickeys on your neck. he wanted to go a little further so the boy let his hands go up your tank top. his brown eyes lock with yours, asking for permission to take off the small piece of clothing

you nodded, cold air immediately hitting your hard nipples. all toby could do was look in awe. his mouth immediately crashed onto your soft boob. kissing and licking around your nipples, little whimpers and whines leaving your mouth

“uh c-C-can i suck them..?”

you nodded and he moved on your sensitive nipples. licking and taking your breast into his mouth the best he could. Toby loved to see you all whiney and overstimulated under him. you could feel him getting harder

he’s pretty average when it comes to size but boy, he knows what he’s doing

toby had an insane porn addiction before you both met and omg, he watched everything

because of that, he will try anything and know how to do it

wanna peg him? he’s already bought the stuff. wanna have buttsex? he’s got lube. want him to eat ur ass? so down and ready.

honestly though, toby loves to just fuck like normal. doggy and cowgirl are his favorites.

“you sure your ready?” toby said teasingly.

“god, Tob’s, just fuck me already”

after what felt like forever, toby slowly slipped his dick into your dripping wet cunt. he groaned as your eyes fluttered closed. his cold, dirty hands began to feel around your thighs as he held you up.

“okay love, im gonna move” you rolled your eyes. his pace started out slow but hard. after a while of fucking once a week, toby knew exactly were all your g spots were. he would tease you a bit by almost hitting it and then hitting it.

you moaned and begged for toby to sped up but he kept his pace. it was slow and painful but god it felt so good. he started to speed up slowly. you moaned and groaned, only making him go faster and faster

he love love lovessss to go at it for hours but only if you’re up to it

and ONLY if you want too

“consent is sexy baby” -toby 2024

he wants to see you begging on your knees for more

on average, you guys are having 3-8 rounds everytime

cum stained sheets just turn him on more

heavy breathing fills the room, toby laying on top of you. his hands rubbed your stomach while his throbbing member was still inside you. as you felt it pulsing, it only turned you on more and more. 

“…hah…b-bAby, do you wanna go again?” the boy said as he pulled out. his hand now rested on your face as him thumb trailed across your cheek.

“fuck yeah.” you sighed out with a smile. toby smiled, quickly grabbing your waist and thrusting back in. a sharp moan escapes your lips while toby grunts

hardcore aftercare everytime

“are you okay? did i hurt you? was it good? are you in pain? do you need anything? do you want anything? do you wanna your put clothes back on? do you want my clothes back on?”

so. many. questions.

he just loves you and doesn’t ever wanna hurt you

he WILL cook you a full course meal. i mean, it won’t taste good but hey its the thought that counts

you moan loudly, coming down from your high. you immediately collapse on top of him while sliding him out of you. chest to chest, your breathing intertwine’s and your body becomes one with his.

“oh baby i love you but i’m done” you say sleepily. your hands run through his dirty, brown hair.

“that-tha-thats okay!! are you alright?” toby says concerned.

“yeah, yeah. i’m just uh tired” you reassured him, still playing with his hair a bit.

he started to rub your back in small circles, kissing your forehead ever so gently. your hands let go of his hair, wrapping your arms around toby’s neck, pulling yourself into him even closer. he breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled.

“oh i love you my darling, a-AAnd not just for sex. your so much more than that, *we’re* so much more than that. of course i-i-i love your body and the way you moan and and and everything else. but i love all of you.” toby said lovingly

[mi-co-uk]

love me not

loner!reader x needy!chris

WARNINGS: use of y/n, suggestive, neck kissing, arguments, jealousy, alcohol consumption, language, POV switches. the series itself will contain smut fluff and angst ⋆𐙚

p.s I'm dyslexic lmao <33 but I did my best

pls enjoy <3

MASTERLIST

prev parts: INTRO / 1

word count: 2k

CHAPTER 2 || bitches broken hearts

CHRIS' POV

I nudge open y/n's bedroom door, my eyes scanning her frame as her hands smooth over her dress. it hugged her tightly, accentuating the features I already knew she had, but were now on show for everyone else. her eyes searched mine for approval.

"what do you think?" she asked softly. her expression had a hint of annoyance, indicating she was still a little mad at me.

this whole thing was matts plan. he'd completely disregarded my adamant request to leave us alone just for the one night. I know she'd texted him during the month she was away. while for me, it was complete radio silence. it wasn't fucking fair.

we'd relaxed on the couch together, watching trash tv and just purely enjoying each other's company after such prolonged tension. we didn't speak on the matters at all, just vague small talk to keep everything lighthearted. then matt decides to join, which (at least from my perspective) completely wrecked the peaceful atmosphere we'd created. him and y/n make polite conversation which slowly turns into a more genuine and relaxed one. my arm that rested atop her shoulder moved down to her waist, gripping her possessively. matt tensed up, finally holding eye contacting and observing my almost territorial body language. the most surprising detail of the entire situation was how y/n behaved.

all I wanted was to piss matt off enough that he left us alone. I had anticipated it partially pissing y/n off in the process - but it did the opposite.

she snuggled herself closer into my side, a smirk growing on her face as she continued talking to matt, who seemed to be growing more anxious as I held my death stare. she was enjoying this.

the argument with matt before had upset y/n the most i think because I wouldn't let her talk. I spoke over her and wouldn't let her explain anything. I was too angry to try and have a communicative outcome, which she resented. but now, I'm letting her say everything she wants, letting her maintain her freedom, but also making it fucking clear that despite our lack of labels, no one else can even look at her for too long.

I finally felt that I had a sense of control over the situation. which as per usual was under threat when matt started to get himself involved once again.

"do you think you'll go to Tara's party?" he questioned her, I watched as her smile dropped at the thought.

"i-i mean.. it's not really my scene matt." she shut him down.

"I know, it's not really mine either. but you can end up making some friends yknow? it could be cool. everyone will be too drunk to tell if anyone's being socially awkward so you don't need to worry about that." he persisted, and worse of all - i could tell she was considering it.

what the fuck?

READER POV

"are you serious, matt?" chris spits out. and to think he was letting me speak for myself for once.

to be honest I really wasn't up for the idea. if people will be too pissed to tell that I'm socially awkward then they'll be too pissed to remember me in general. automatically meaning I wouldn't have actually made friends. it would all be unnecessary anxiety. but the fact chris had only managed to last 5 minutes without being verbally possessive made my brain flick a switch on the whole idea.

"it could be good practise though." I spoke up, watching his eyes turn from stressed to a look of someone who'd been betrayed. chris can be very dramatic, to the point that this ordeal was almost comedic.

"practise? you don't need more friends. that's not the issue. why would being around a bunch of assholes who are too wasted to be polite help you?"

"well- as matt said, they wouldn't remember it. so there's less worry about how I appear to people. it could be less humiliating." his expression twisted into confusion.

"the fuck? you don't need to worry about how you appear around us. what's the benefit of it being those guys?"

"chris, I do worry about how I appear around you guys. it's not personal and- trust me, I wish it wasn't that way but it is. it's the same with everyone." my eyebrows furrowed as I spoke, frustrated as he was acting as if this was all news to him.

"chris, it's worth a shot. if it'll be easier with people at the party then she should try it." matt chimed in, backing up mine and his arguments.

"matt you do fucking understand that more friends doesn't mean more time she can cope being around people, it just means more people to fucking share it around with. I'd never see her."

"can you stop talking about me like I'm not right fucking here?" I spat. exhausted of the pointless argument over a hypothetical situation.

"it's my choice." I continued as I watch chris' gaze lower to his own lap in regret. he didn't say sorry but it wasn't as if that was out of character for him.

I know he felt guilty. and yeah his points were valid to a certain extent. but it's my choice. and caring about me doesn't give him the excuse to be disrespectful towards me.

chris always had this overprotective nature towards me. which growing up, I definitely appreciated. but now it's morphed into being territorial over me - including pushing me away from even his own brother. those situations are the ones I usually fight back on. I understand not trusting other people, people he doesn't know. but matt? it was too ridiculous to not say a word on. but all of this being said, I'd be lying if I said I didn't revel in his possessiveness. I could never deny that I didn't love chris' habit of looking at people as if he was mentally killing them for being remotely close to me. all the while holding onto his soft, nice guy persona when it came to speaking to me even a moment later. but this was only most of the time. he must've been on edge from me being gone for a month but it was the closest he'd been to raising his voice at me. which I couldnt let him do - as much it embarrassingly turned me on.

CHRIS' POV

I had a gut feeling just from parking outside that this would all turn to shit. and fast. y/n was very clearly increasing in anxiety through-out the whole day, only going forward with the plan in spite of me.

"y' seriously don't have to do this" I whispered as all four of us walked towards the house. "'m not gonna say some dumb shit about being right - I don't care. I just don't want you to feel like shit because of all this." I persisted.

"it's okay. can you just like- stay next to me? or just near me." she whispered back sweetly, seemingly a lot less annoyed at me now, but not enough to call it off.

"course." the positive about this was the fact she asked me, not matt.

her and tara hit it off the best. she approached us four, nick had already given her a run down on the plan, so she knew the ins and outs of some things that would help y/n or do the opposite. she directed us towards the drinks, encouraged y/n to stick around her for night so she can introduce her to some people - she assured her that it wouldn't be anything stupidly formal. I could tell y/n felt a bit more at ease while tara was handling the situation, easing into me comfortably while we sat on the couch while tara was talking to anyone and everyone, being the life of the party.

then in comes nick and matt to disturb the routine we had going. they were adamant that she should go meet someone, so we signalled to tara half goodbyes and walked over to the kitchen. matt had his hand on the small of y/n's back and directed her through the dancing crowd while I got stuck behind. I felt a hand on my arm preventing me from going further.

"oh my god! you're one of the triplets!" some girl called out to me, practically yelling in my ear over the blasting music. I made limited small talk till I realised that everyone I was following was out of view. as the conversation went further, the girl started to flirt and encouraged me to dance with her. I said I would but I needed a few drinks first. I know now that I was wrong. my job was to stay by y/n. but she had matt. and I had neither of them in that moment.

READER POV

I watched chris hold some random girl against a wall, running his lips down her neck hungrily, eyes shut in concentration. I'd had to stick closely to nick and matt for the duration of the redt of the night due chris' distraction. it was upsetting for obvious reasons but that turned into annoyance when wed collectively agreed to go. his brothers were tired, I was tired and there was only so much small talk we could all handle - especially now that tara was entertaining larger crowds, completely wasted. luckily, matt offered to interrupt chris so that we could go home.

me and nick stood awkwardly by the front door as matt interrupted them. the girl got all giggly as they continued flirting under their breath so I couldn't make out what they said but either way it made me sick to my stomach. as soon chris was remotely on his way, I left to head out to the car before everyone else, determined for him not to see that it had got to me.

he seemed very happy with himself on the drive home. smirking and chuckling to himself, which increased everytime he caught me staring. I could practically taste the alcohol on him from how strong it's scent was.

none of us were aware chris had drunk at the party but it had become very evident once we had got into the car.

it was just us two in the backseat. he'd sat himself in the middle seat, looking down at me, his eyes sparkling from the city lights. It bothered me the most that his expression felt insulting but really it wasn't. he looked at me even more lovingly than usual, clearly not seeing my eye contact as irritation but just enjoying that I was looking at him at all.

"you're so pretty" he muttered quietly, trying to draw my attention back to him once I'd looked away. my eye were fixed outside the window, much to chris' growing disapproval. "cmon look at me .. please?" he whispered, snuggling his head into the crook of my neck.

he started pressing soft kisses to my neck and as much as I knew I should resist, the longer I hesitated, the more passionate his kisses grew which just increased the warmth between my legs.

"chris.. enough." I whispered, knowing that the combination of him being drunk, the fact I knew matt could see all of this transpiring, and the memory of him with that other girl was too much to do nothing about the situation. his kisses slowed down, trailing up to my cheek before he stopped and looked me in the eyes.

"no good no more?" he asked timidly, with a look as if he was about to cry.

"we just can't right now." my eyes indicating towards the front of the car.

"right now?" the smirk was brought back to his face from my response, which was luckily enough for him to just rest his head on my shoulder for the rest of the car journey. I fiddled with the locks of his hair, desperately trying not to replay the memory of him making out with that other girl.

next part ->

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

a/n , next part will be smut <3 I'm also quite happy with how this chapter turned out so YAY super excited for you guys to see the next one since I could only post half coz the length

taglist: @pair-of-pantaloons @oopsiedaisydeer @corspebridedelrey @faiyaz555 @izzylovesmatt

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ - mi