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#i can never stop thinking about those last few minutes of her life
ickadori · 6 months
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio missed his wife, and she missed him just as much. two simps in love.
[cws] fluff. fem reader -> wriothesley’s wife. reader is a mondstadt native. kissing.
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Wriothesley’s cup of tea pauses halfway to his mouth as there’s a knock at his office door. His fingers tighten unconsciously around the handle, that incessant throbbing at his temples that had been dying out suddenly tapping into its nth life.
He contemplates ignoring it; pretending he didn’t hear it and indulging in his fresh brew, but he’s never been one to shirk off his work, no matter how inconsequential the task.
He sets the cup down rougher than necessary, and the legs of his chair scrape loudly against the floor as he pushes it back from his desk and stands to his feet. Someone better be dead or on the verge.
It was an unspoken rule that Wriothesley wasn’t to be bothered at this time -a quarter after five until six- because it was official tea time, a very, very important time in his day that let the inhabitants in Meropide see his most agreeable side… although he had heard talk from a few gossipy guards and prisoners that his ‘pissy attitude’ this past month had nothing to do with his interrupted tea times, but rather that his wife had gone back to Mondstadt to visit family.
“You know how he gets when he doesn’t see her after a while—downright scary. I’ve never seen a man look so enraged and distraught at the same time.”
“He put me on pipe restoration duty —don’t laugh, it isn’t funny! Worst job in the whole place, I swear— for the next six months all because my wife dropped by with a bento on my break. Apparently no one can be happy when his missus is away.”
“I caught him staring at her picture the other day, y’know the one he keeps in that chain around his neck, and sighing like some schoolgirl. I nearly thought my daughter had somehow gotten herself arrested and thrown down here when I heard all those lovesick sighs.”
It was all hearsay and speculation, of course. Wriothesley could manage just fine with you away - he was a grown man, a weathered man, a man who could function fully without the company of his wife.
That’s right, he thinks to himself. He’s been doing just fine in your absence, a bit quicker to anger than usual, but with the looming threat of being turned into a big, sopping puddle right below his feet, could you really blame him?
The door is wrenched open, strands of black and gray flying back from where they rested against his forehead due to the strong gust of wind he created.
“What is it now?” He nearly hisses out, but he manages to get a reign on it last minute, the words coming out a bit strained instead. He eyes the guard standing in front of him, their eyes flitting between the crease between his brows and the floor. “Spit it out before I—”
He stops abruptly when he hears a voice that he knows intimately well, and had he possessed any shame when it came publicly displaying the love he harbored for you, he would have been a touch embarrassed at the speed of which his frown smoothed out and the throbbing in his head disappeared, a sparkle in his eyes as his shoulders lose a bit of their tension.
“Oh? He has? Thank you for telling me, Sigewinne. I’ll get right on that.” You come rounding the corner with the small doctor at your side, a knapsack in your hands, and had Wriothesley been any less sane, he would have swore that he could feel the rays of the sunshine beaming down on his skin and fresh air filtering into his lungs when you turned your gaze to him, scornful as it was.
You’re fitted in a dress that’s customary for the women in your homeland to wear, and flowers are weaved into your hair, and the ring on your finger seems to shine a bit brighter.
“Wriothesley.” You march up to him, eyebrows knitted together, and push your finger against his chest. “What is this I hear about you acting like a tyrant?”
“You look beautiful.” He breathes out.
“And going to the Pankration ring? You know those poor people don’t stand a chance against you. That’s just bullying.”
“Let me take your bag, it looks heavy.”
“And you haven’t been eating right, either! Look at your face — you’ve lost weight!” He transfers the bag from your hands to his, and when his fingers brush against yours, he finally lets a smile bloom on his face, being met with a huff. “Don’t smile at me. I’m mad at you.”
“Can’t help it, happy to see you.” You falter a bit, corners of your lips twitching, but you hold strong, choosing to save face in front of the onlookers—always put up a good fight, especially when others are looking, is what he had told you once upon a time. “I’ve missed you so much.” It comes out in a low murmur, eyes locked onto yours and refusing to stray, even when you decide that his gaze is a bit too heavy for the setting and avert your own.
“I-well-you…just get inside your office.”
He’s nice enough to hold back a chuckle, instead stepping to the side so that you can shuffle past him and inside. Before he shuts the door, his gaze turns icy and his smile thins out as he lets his eyes sweep over everyone present. A resounding groan is heard, the unspoken promise loud and clear, and then he’s pushing the door shut and turning on his heel.
You’re on him in a second, arms wrapped around his waist as you bury your face into his chest. He returns the hug just as quick, thick, burly arms circling around your shoulders as his head dips down so he can stuff his nose into your hair and breathe your scent in.
Your voice comes out muffled as you try to speak, and he loosens his hold on you a bit, allowing you to pop your head up so you can look up at him. There’s a halfhearted pout on your lips, and his response is a reflex as he leans down to give you a peck once, twice, three times before moving on to place one on the tip of your nose.
“You were supposed to let me scold you out there, birdie. Now everyone’s gonna know that I let you off easy.”
“Let me off easy? I’d say this is the meanest you’ve ever been to me,” he gives an exaggerated expression of hurt. “You haven’t even told me you missed me, or that you’re happy to see me, or that you’ll never leave again because you couldn’t stand being away from me.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You smile despite yourself, and he kisses you again, scarred hands moving to cradle your cheeks. You part with a gasp for air, and its his turn to smile when you stretch up to reconnect your lips, the lack of air not deterring you in the slightest.
“Breathe, sweetheart…” He rasps against your lips, and you suck in a breath, eyes slowly blinking as you tug at the material of his shirt. There’s a rush of emotions that washes over him at the unspoken confirmation that you missed him just as much as he had missed you, and he lets his hands wander down to settle on your waist, fingers flexing as they squeeze at the flesh there through the material of your dress.
“Well, well, well,” he starts, and you blink out of your stupor to don a guilty expression. “Looks like you haven’t been eating right, either, hypocrite.” He lightly pinches at your side, and you squeal out a laugh as you lightly bat at his hand.
“Have I told you that I missed you, and that I’m sooo happy to see you, and that I’ll never, ever leave again because I can’t stand being away from you?” You flutter your lashes up at him, direct that heart-stopping smile up at him, and for a split second he thinks that the primordial sea has broken the seal and reduced him to nothing but a puddle at your feet.
“Careful now, words like that are liable to kill a man, and this place isn’t fitting for a sweet girl like you.”
“Oh? Then maybe I should leave earlier than I intended t—” He quiets you with a kiss, and you laugh into it, earning a gentle nip on your bottom lip. Your teasing smile settles into something sweeter, tender, vulnerable, and it mirrors him perfectly.
You both speak your next words in unison.
“I missed you.”
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loveshotzz · 1 year
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
My Favorite Customer
Summary: You’ve been buying weed from your new dealer for a few months now. Always leaving it in your mailbox while you’re at work, you two never cross paths until one Friday night when you come home early.
word count: 3k
Warnings: None really besides some kissing at the end. This just a little meet cute with our favorite weed dealer. (Not meant to be a series, just a fluffy one shot) mentions of weed obviously.
A/N: I missed Eddie and this idea came to me based off my real life of buying weed from my weed man for over a year. Have yet to come face to face with him, but there’s always weed in my mailbox when I need it lol. For my twin @boomhauer and thank you @superblysubpar for helping me find my Eddie voice again.
Lifting up the lid of your mailbox, the smirk that tugs at your lips can’t be stopped when a fresh bag of weed sits inside, his usual hand written note attached making your face hot. You look both ways before snatching the eighth quickly scuffling back into your apartment like you were hiding a pound of cocaine and not just enough green to last you a few days.
It had been like this for a while with Eddie. You’d call him up by the number given to you from Robin who swore up and down that he was the best.
You remember thinking his voice was cute the first time you heard it, and you started to wonder if he thought the same after the third call. A flirty edge hidden behind his words every time he’d pick up and realize it was you.
“Ahhh my favorite customer.” He’d tease starting to get these calls multiple times a week.
It wasn’t your intention to never meet Eddie, it’s just how it always seemed to happen. That first time you talked he could hear the desperation in your voice. The stress from the move here and starting your new full time job fresh out of high school, he could tell you needed to relax. Rattling off times he could come by, none of them ever lining up to match with yours.
“You got a mailbox or somewhere I could stash it?” He finally gave in after exhausting almost every other option.
“You’d do that?” You couldn’t help but be embarrassed by the obvious excitement in your voice and he just laughed.
“If the money’s there sweetheart, why not?” The nickname made your heart skip a beat biting your lip to try and hide your smile.
You don’t even know what he looks like.
So this is how it started playing out after that, you’d call with your order and he’d make you blush every time he’d kick the flirting up to ten.
Instantly comforted by his mellow voice, you found yourself looking forward to those few minutes so much that you weren’t sure if the amount you were smoking was from stress or from just wanting to hear his voice again. Then he started adding little notes to your deliveries and now you were almost positive it was the second.
His sloppy handwriting started appearing on each bag with the word ‘favorite’ always scribbled at the top.
Cheeks heating up the first time it showed up, you couldn’t stop trying to imagine what he looked like. Too scared to ask Robin, you knew she’d just follow your intrigue with a line of questioning of her own.
Settling for the vague faceless man you’d conjured up in your clever mind. You let the memory of his voice be the thing that secretly encouraged the movements of your fingers between your thighs every night.
Friday morning had you waking up with a smile, your stash low enough to do the thing you’d been thinking about since you hung up the last time. Taking a deep breath you dialed his number that you now had completely memorized. It only rings three times before his voice fills your end of the receiver.
“Is this who I think it is calling me this early in the morning?” The grin in his voice is evident when he answers.
Shuffling your feet nervously, the smile on your own face was starting to make your cheeks hurt.
“Do you always answer the phone like this?” You wonder if he can hear yours too.
“Only if I know it’s you.”his tone sends a shiver up your spine, legs pressing together on their own accord.
“And how’d you know that it was me Eddie?” You draw out his name sweetly, silently squealing when you hear the hitch in his breathing from it.
“Because sweetheart, you’re the only one who calls this early for weed.” catching the way he almost whispers the last part, you hear a gruff voice in the background.
“Boy if you don’t leave soon!”
“Sorry, is that a problem? I just wanted to catch you before it was too late.” The urge to crawl in a hole is strong as you slap your palm on your forehead.
Your eagerness to talk to him becoming more than obvious, the man yelling at him in the background definitely wasn’t helping your new bashfulness.
“Pshh are you kidding me? I love it. Get to start the morning off talking to my favorite girl.” He lays his response on thicker than syrup. Your palms start to sweat noting the way he didn’t say customer for the first time.
Your embarrassment subsides for a split second before the voice from before cuts in again.
“If I get another call that you were late again, boy I swear to -“
The line shuffles on the other end and all you can hear is the sounds muffled arguing before another loud rustle, his voice returning with more irritation in it than you’d ever heard before.
“You want the usual?” He’s short when he answers and you know it’s not supposed to be directed at you, but you can’t help but squirm.
“Y- yeah if that’s okay?” You didn’t mean to give yourself away by stumbling over your words, but when you do Eddie makes a quick recovery.
“More than, listen you have a good day at work today Sweetheart. I really gotta go, but check your mailbox when you get home.” Hanging up before you get a chance to finish saying goodbye you hear Eddie yell “I”m leaving alright?!”
——
Work was exceptionally slow for a Friday night, the unexpected thunderstorm that rolled through killed any possibility of a dinner rush. Cutting you less than half way through your shift, your giddy excitement couldn’t be contained. Friday evenings had become non-existent since you started at Enzo’s. So when the opportunity to actually have one came around you couldn’t turn it down. Stopping at Family Video on your way home, Robin helped you pick out something she swore was good while you did your best to ignore the eyes her friend Steve was giving you.
Strumming your fingers against the steering wheel while you listened to Kiss a little too loud, the heavy rain turned into something less than a light drizzle as your tires splashed through puddles. Planning out your evening alone you didn't even think of what this could mean as you pulled into your parking spot hours earlier than normal.
Too caught up in trying to land the notes to I Was Made For Loving You, you didn’t see the van parked in front of your small complex. Head in the clouds with the possibilities of the night mixed with your bad habit of looking down when you walked, you didn’t see who was right in front of you. The sound of the voice you’d been daydreaming for months about cuts through your mumbled singing. Stomach dropping to the floor when you hear
“Son of a bitch.”
Freezing in place, your eyes slowly trail up towards your front door. Standing at almost six feet tall was a curly haired metal head. Mumbling profanities as he struggled against the lid of your mailbox, his jacket looked caught on something. Broad shoulders covered by a battle vest adorned with a giant Dio patch, you still couldn’t see what his face looked like as he struggled with the sleeve of the leather jacket beneath. Taking in his ripped black jeans and scuffed white Reebok’s, your heart was already threatening to beat out of your chest. If his face was cute, you knew you’d be fucked.
A few more violent tugs of his arm, he finally breaks free as your mailbox creaks dangerously close to coming unhinged off the brick wall. His zippers jingle as he shakes out his wrist, flipping up a ring clad middle finger he chuckles proudly to himself before turning around. Big brown eyes meet yours like a deer in headlights, so cute they punch the air out of our lungs.
Yeah, you were fucked.
Brows furrowed under messy bangs his eyes go from your stunned face down to the keys in your hand with your VHS tape before he takes in your frame. Catching the way they linger just long enough to still be polite. He meets your shocked stare as something clicks in his head. A dimple filled smile pushes past his plush lips, yours threatening to do just the same at the sight.
“Eddie?” Surprised you were able to get his name out of your mouth, his face seems to light up even more as his suspicions were confirmed.
“That depends.” Rocking on his heels he crosses his arms over his chest “Favorite, is that you? Cause boy, you’re even cuter than you sound.”
Blood rushing to your cheeks hearing your nickname in person like this, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth at his compliment.
“That depends.” Looking up at him from under your lashes the dimples in his cheeks deepen at your response.
Twirling one of his curls over his lip, you notice all of his rings “What if it’s your favorite weed dealer?”
Cuter than anything you could have conjured up in your mind you were silently scolding yourself for not meeting him sooner. Straightening your shoulders a little you take a few strides closer to him, watching as his eyes don’t try to hide as they take all of you in.
“I’m sure you call all the girls that, but yes it’s me Eddie.” Smiling bigger than you can help, it’s his turn to take a couple steps closer.
“Nah, that nickname is just for you sweetheart.” Standing close enough to catch hints of corner store cologne trying to cover up cigarette smoke, everything about him made your brain short circuit. Looking down at the movie in your hand his eyebrows raise in disbelief before meeting your eyes again. “Alien?”
“Robin suggested it to me for my unexpected night off.” Flipping it over in your hand to read the back, you could feel his stare on your face rather than on the tape. “Ever seen it?” glancing up at him, he doesn’t try to hide what he was actually looking at.
Nodding, he grins down at you “Buckley’s got great taste.”
Catching the double meaning in his words an electric current that could light up all of Hawkins dances between your bodies. Static vibrating from your fingertips, you couldn’t stop the sigh that slipped between your lips.
The raindrop that hits you between the eyes is jarring, you blink fast before more start a slow and steady decent splattering all around. Raising a large hand up to try and shield his curls he looks annoyed that Mother Nature was cutting his time short.
“I hate to deliver and dash sweetheart, but I don’t wanna keep you in the rain.” Doe eyes taking in your face like he was trying to commit it to memory he moves to step around you.
Panic rises and constricts around your chest as you watch his retreating form, biting the inside of your cheek you work up enough courage to do something you’ve never done. Make the first move.
“Doyouwannwatchitwithme?” Words jumbled together and almost yelled as they fell out of your mouth, your mumbled nonsense stops him dead in his tracks. Turning around, having his full attention like this was making it even harder.
“Come again princess?” The new nickname threatens to send you six feet under when you feel your knees shake. Clearing your throat you gather whatever confidence you can muster under the intensity of his stare.
“Do you want to come watch this movie with me?” Using it as a makeshift umbrella you start walking backwards towards front door “I actually just got this pretty good shit delivered you should try it.”
The smile that breaks across his face is infectious, feeling it in the way your lips stretch so much it makes your cheeks hurt.
“Oh yeah? I mean if you’re talking about who I think you’re talking about, that guy’s got the best shit in town sweetheart.” The laugh he pulls from you, he swears it makes your face glow. “I’d be honored favorite, I thought you’d never ask.”
—-
Your living room lays in a blanket of haze from two joints successfully smoked, touches lingering more and more as you two passed them back and forth. Half way through the movie you were giggling through cupped fingers leaning into him as you both sank deeper into the cushions of your couch. His bad jokes and over the top commentary kept you both laughing with shoulders pressed together for support. Neither one of you making any effort to move when you both finally calm down.
Peeking at him from the corner of your eye, you were mesmerized by how handsome he was this close. Your stare following the curve of his round nose to the fullness of not one but both his lips, a light sheen coating them from being freshly licked. The sharp planes of his jaw lead you to the thickness of his neck, catching the silver chain that disappears into his shirt.
Time is an illusion in your foggy brain - especially under his spell, losing yourself trying to remember every curve and scar on his face you stare long enough to to get caught. Chocolate eyes connecting with yours, the corners of his lips tug up and like looking in a mirror yours do you.
“Hey favorite”quiet enough for just you to hear, there’s a soft rasp in his voice from all the smoking.
“Hey Eddie”biting your bottom lip, his eyes watch the way your teeth scrape across the silk of it.
Leather creaking loud enough to hear over the sound of the movie and the rain outside, he drapes his arm over the back of the couch. The dip pulling you deep into the warmth of his chest.
“Is this okay?”for the first time you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he tries to read the expression on your face.
Nodding you slide a tentative hand up his chest feeling his muscle twitch under your palm, looking up at him you repeat his own question.
“Is this okay?”
His hand reaches up to cup the side of your face, the weed helping you melt into his touch as the pad of his thumb traces your cheekbone. Searching your eyes for any sign of protest he nudges his nose with yours. The heat of his breath fans across your parted lips as your eyes flutter closed completely overcome by him being this close.
“Sweetheart, if I’m reading this wrong please tell me now.” Your top lip brushes with his bottom when he asks the question and you think you might combust if you don’t close the gap.
Tilting your head just enough to get what you want, your lips move together like it was something they’d been doing for years. Each lazy drag setting your skin ablaze.
Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip he quietly asks you for more. Granting him access to something you’re sure you’ll never deny him, you don’t hesitate to let him deepen the kiss.
Tongues meeting each other in the middle, they battle for dominance as your fingers find their way into the thickness of his curls. Tugging slightly, you smile into the kiss when a groan erupts from deep in his chest.
With the rest of the world long forgotten, the two of you stay like this for longer than you can keep track of. Hands exploring curves and grabbing hips, it almost becomes too much when you nip his bottom lip.
Eddie’s the one who breaks away reluctantly when the need for oxygen becomes too much, and his body starts to react a little too strongly to your touch. The screen on the TV had gone blue long ago when the movie ended, leaving your dark living room in its pale bright light. The coloring of it all hitting his face just right.
Nudging his nose with yours he leans his head back against the cushions of the couch. Chocolate eyes looking at you through half closed lids, a lazy smile spreading wide across his kiss swollen lips.
“We should probably stop, and I should probably go.”jutting his bottom lip in a pout he catches the disappointment you try to hide flash behind your eyes. “Not that I want to, I just actually had other stops that I was supposed to make tonight, but it’s not like I was going to say no to you inviting me to hangout.”snorting like that was the craziest thing he could ever imagine, his face lights up when he earns a laugh from you.
“Yeah, I’d be pretty pissed if I was them.” Using his chest to try to push yourself up with your hands, he stops you from getting too far. Collecting your lips one last time, he only lets you pull away enough for your noses to stay touched.
“Besides having a few more drop offs, I’m hoping the next time I kiss you like that is after you let me take you on a date?”catching the nerves in his voice, you couldn’t actually believe he thought you’d say no.
“Bold of you to assume there’s going to be a next time.”raising a brow you do your best to remain straight faced as he narrows his eyes at you.
He brushes his lips lightly against yours again before asking “there’s not?”
Giving in almost instantly you add pressure pushing yourself closer, chuckling as he pulls away, you stop trying to fight the smile that’s threatening to spread across your own face.
“Fine, you caught my bluff.” Huffing in mock annoyance, this time he lets you push yourself up.
It still takes another thirty minutes for Eddie to work up enough willpower to get off the couch, your easy conversation and pouty soft lips making it a near impossible feat.
More stolen kisses and stumbled words fill the empty space on the walk to the front door followed by even more before he finally goes. Sweet just like the nickname he gave you, he couldn’t wait to make you his.
——
taglist: @munsonology @munsonmunster @elthreetimes
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elliespet · 4 months
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camgirl!abby, camgirl!reader, pervbff!ellie
laying between abby’s legs with your own draped over her strong thighs, her chest pressed so safely against your back. your head resting on her shoulder as she kisses the side of your face, cooing sweet nothings in your ear.
her phone positioned to get the most perfect shot. right under your necks, to capture everything people wanted to see. “send some more gifts if you guys think we can get one more out of her,” she speaks into the air and it settles next to your ears. you heard her, of course you wanted to tell her you couldn’t do it anymore, but you couldn’t.
mouth dry and brain fuzzy, you couldn’t remember the last time you looked at her. abby, the sweetest girl you’ve ever met, torturing you? Who would’ve thought! Surely not ellie, dina.. not one soul. Or so you thought.
neither of you could keep track of how many times you came on the pretty pink sheets she had you splayed out across, but someone else could. On that little glowing device, someone was counting.
just as requested, someone did gift more. more than enough more than abby thought anyone would. who would spend so much money on watching her play with her pretty girlfriend just for fun? some creep, probably. the donation was pretty inconspicuous. no message, just another $25 into the bank. they were just ‘user207399’, non-identifiable.
on the other side, the so called user could tell exactly who was streaming. those pretty thighs and that smooth like silk voice they could pin from miles away. ellie, with her fingers tucked inside herself and eyes squinted, phone set right in front of her face. ellie, who surely has came just as much as you by now.
abby’s best friend, who she’d never suspect, getting off to her pushing that horrible vibrator against your overstimulated bud. desperately she wanted it to be her head. abby’s ring adorned hand tangled in her hair pushing her mouth up against your clit. her tongue being the one you were grinding against and letting her taste everything.
it’s been months. she had found the two of you a few weeks after you started, eyes widened and jaw dropped noticing the oddly familiar flex of muscles from the bigger woman in the video. the all too recognizable birth mark fixated on the inner thigh of the other girl in front the camera.
abby pumping her strap into you and your sweet voice spilling out of her phones speakers, bouncing off the walls of her dorm. frankly, if you were there, you would’ve laughed at how fast she shut off her phone and threw it across the room.
that night may have altered her brain chemistry for maybe the rest of her life. of course she had always had the smallest crush on both you and abby, bringing home girls who hold the same characteristics as one of you. if it wasn’t a girl with blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, it was one with ten times the muscle mass she had. if it wasn’t a girl with the same big doll eyes and long lashes as you, it was one with an ass almost as good as yours.
she tried her best to get back into her regular routine, bringing a new girl to her place every other day. it wasn’t working, her mind always wandering back to the two of you. she stopped, people noticed. there were girls who wanted to go home with her and she blew them off. normally, ellie would be at parties flirting with every single girl she met, maybe even selling a few blunts here and there.
her situation got worse when she couldn’t watch the two of you fucking. she’d search through her phone for any saved videos she had every night if not every 30 minutes.
tonight, possibly one of her biggest donations to date, she’d keep upping the price until her cards ran dry.
“alright. i think it’s about time for us to log off.. this pretty girl over here is close to passing out!” her voice was light and soft, hands sliding up and down your thighs in a comforting manner. “thanks for another great night.” were her last words before she shut the stream off and ellie could’ve sobbed right then and there.
it was late, almost 1 in the morning and she was positive you were exhausted yet still wanted more. it’s like it had become a craving.
you and abby had made enough money to hold you off for a few weeks, therefore you didn’t feel the need to stream. it was good to take a break and after that session, you most definitely needed it.
ellie wasn’t happy though. the thing she relied on had stopped and she became pissy with the whole world. distant from both of you, dina and even joel. it was driving her crazy not seeing that ring of white against abby’s strap.
she’d snap on anyone and everyone over small things, poor girl. all she wanted was to relieve that stress and she couldn’t. all because of you. you weren’t aware, too obsessed with abby yourself to care about anyone else. it wasn’t the same for the blonde. she was ellie’s best friend, after all. it’s crazy to think they didn’t fuck a few times before you guys got together!
abby knew what she needed and she knew how ellie looked at you when you wore those pretty skirts or the shorts that squeezed your thighs perfectly. she had thought a few times about proposing the idea to you. abby never did though, afraid you’d be freaked out by it.
she had something planned. all three of you, together. to be honest, that’s what she needed some of the money for.
i bet you’re curious.. too bad abby wants to wait a few days before letting you know! wife’s orders, i’ve gotta listen. see you soon! ❤︎
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nathaslosthershit · 22 days
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Unremarkable (LN4)
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(Part 2 of the Blind Items series)
Summary: Blind Items returns again to ruin yet another happy couple's peace. This time, Lando Norris and his ‘unremarkable’ girlfriend.
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“Lando, have you seen this?” his girlfriend asked, showing him the tweets. When they had soft launched, she got a small dose of what it would be like to be the WAG of Lando Norris. But even when they hadn’t known anything about her, some people still had been so mean. Now that they knew she had a ‘commoner’ job, they had started tearing her to shreds. ‘How could someone so rich and famous go for such a plain girl’ was what so many people had said. 
“Oscar showed it to me today. I am so sorry, honey, I was hoping that you wouldn’t have seen it. Those people are absolute asses, love.” He probably should have said something earlier but he knew how hard she would take it. While she had joked in the past about the differences in their jobs, especially the pay, he knew she felt insecure about it at times. 
“The thing is, I didn’t see it. Not at first. I only saw it when I heard one of my students talking about it in class today. Can you even imagine how humiliating that was for me? Hearing my own students who I have done nothing but be kind and understanding to, trying to get them to love learning, talk about how awful it is their favorite driver is dating someone as boring as a teacher.” She couldn’t stop the tears as she went on about the situation. He wouldn’t understand, he couldn’t. She knew Lando had his moments of insecurity but nothing like this. At the end of the day, he still had hundreds upon thousands of fans who loved him immensely. 
Even if he couldn’t fully understand, it still broke his heart seeing how much it hurt her. Sure, he hadn’t ever thought he would date a school teacher either, but that was mostly due to his previous lack of appreciation for school. But being with her has changed that. His girlfriend could always make things interesting. She loved to spout history facts on vacation and it always made him so deliriously happy to see how giddy she was to learn new things. 
Seeing her now though, so visibly upset made him realize this wasn’t something that could slide easily. His PR team might not love it but he wasn’t going to just sit there and let her feel terrible about herself.
“I’ll fix this, I promise.” He said quickly as he left. He shouldn’t have left her alone and crying, but he was fuming and decided he needed that anger to let his message out. 
landonorris
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Liked by oscarpiastri and 153,137 others
landonorris I don’t know who this gossip page thinks they are but the last thing I will tolerate is someone hiding behind a screen telling the entire world that my girlfriend, who I love more than life itself, is ‘dull’ and ‘unremarkable’ because of her job. This is a woman who is smarter than 99% of the people I have ever interacted with, someone who spends so much of their time trying, and succeeding, to get kids to love learning. Even as someone who didn’t appreciate school as much as they should have, I would never have once thought school teachers were any of the negative things you have said. Luckily, here I am, happy with my amazing girlfriend who deserves the entire world, and I know I will spend the rest of my life trying to give it to her. 
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A few minutes later she came into the room, tears still staining her cheeks.
“Thank you Lando” she said as he motioned for her to sit on his lap. 
“I can say more if you want? I definitely think I could have cursed them out mor-” He was cut off with a kiss. The sheer force of it caused them to bump heads a little, which then caused them to break apart giggling. “I’m serious about what I said. I don’t know what I did to get someone as wonderful as you but I am not going to let some assholes on the internet make you upset over something so incredible. You should be proud of what you do and I will forever work to remind you of how amazing you are.”
“I love you, Lando” was all she replied.
“I love you more”
“Please can we not play this game you know I love-”
“Nope, la-la-la-la I can’t hear you over the sound of me loving you soooo much” He said as he covered his ears.
Such a dork, she thought.
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bellawoso · 1 month
Text
Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve
Alexia Putellas x fem!reader
Read part 1 : here
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Much to your Diego’s dismay, you did not end up calling Alexia, instead the jersey, adorned with a number that could change your life, was left screwed up at the back of your wardrobe.
You were going to call Alexia.
Until one of your other friends heard about it, and told you about the backlash and hate you would receive from some of Alexia’s devoted fans. In the end, you decided it wasn’t worth it, it was only a few years since you escaped your depressive cycle, you were not ever going to risk entering it again.
Truthfully, you regret ignoring Alexia, every time anyone hits on you, you always compare them to the blonde, Diego often calling you “pathetic” as you only spoke to her for 2 hours.
However, you realised that it’s too late to call her, and think of how weird the blonde would think you were if you called her a month later.
As once again you debated calling the midfielder, your door suddenly slammed open.
“¡Hola chica! Look I have tickets!”
As you inspected the tickets in Diego’s hand, your face contorted to one of disappointment;
England vs Spain tickets.
Fuck.
———————————————————————
Your England top had arrived just in time, you were going to wear a Spain one after Diego convinced you that you would be beaten up by the first Spaniard who saw you, you guess the England-Spain rivalry ran deep.
However, it felt a betrayal to your country to be clad in the red jersey, so you ordered one last minute, luckily you weren’t completely oblivious when it came to football, you knew of how Leah Williamson had captained England to a Euro’s victory.
So there you were, in blue denim shorts and your oversized Williamson Jersey almost reaching past your shorts.
It felt like you were cheating, which was stupid, you met Alexia for 2 hours, to push away the feeling of guilt you slipped on a jacket and made your way downstairs.
Diego only rolled his eyes, and sighed in disapproval at your jersey choice.
———————————————————————
Alexia was excited for her return which she had been informed of a month prior to the match, but everyone on the team had noticed a change in the captains mood.
Except only Jana knew the cause for her sudden sadness.
Alexia didn’t understand why your rejection stung so much, maybe it was because the two-time ballon d’or winner wasn’t used to it, or maybe it was because the whole two hours you were together, she had imagined a relationship with you. It felt too real, and she cursed herself for grieving something that never happened in the first place.
She pushed all of those thoughts to the side, and instead focused on the match ahead of her, it was only a friendly, but the idea of being able to hold the win over Lucy and Keira’s heads when they returned to Barcelona felt euphoric.
What she didn’t expect was to see you in the crowd, worse of all, in a Leah fucking Williamson jersey.
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Spain were one nil down at half time. which was frustrating for Alexia, having to watch from the sidelines with promises of being brought on for the final 45 minutes, however as she stepped on the pitch, her attention was drawn to a white jersey, in a sea of red, only a few rows up.
You stuck out like a sore thumb, it was extremely hard to miss you. So when Alexia laid eyes on you, her heart stopped for a second, and the screams and cheers of the stadium became muffled sounds in her ears.
As you turn around to face Diego, Alexia can just make out the England captain’s last name on your back, bile rises to the Spaniard’s mouth and she quickly turns away.
A newfound determination to outdo the English Captain, to try prove to you that the only jersey you should be proud to wear should be hers.
Call it jealousy. Maybe. But whatever it was fuelled Alexia to score 2 more goals by the end of the match.
2-1 to Spain.
When you saw Alexia step out on the pitch, your breath immediately hitched in your throat, sending you into a coughing fit, which received a knowing chuckle from Diego.
“You fumbled amiga”
Honestly, you regretted teaching him some English slang, he used it against you constantly, and often laughed at himself after seeing you scowling.
When the match ended, Diego was quick to drag you to the stands, he was a big fan of Aitana Bonmati, and wanted her signature badly.
Although you were happy for him when the brunette midfielder came over to where you two were, you froze at seeing Alexia’s friend from the match, who was walking over with Aitana.
When Jana laid eyes on you, she knew what she had to do, she was quick to sprint off and get Alexia, who was talking to Lucy and Keira, and teasing them of the loss.
Alexia was no where near as nervous as you were, the blonde didn’t need to be, you rejected her, even though she was positive that you were returning her flirty comments at the past match.
The Spaniard was sure that you were in the wrong, you should feel guilty for leading her on, so she was quick to confront you when she saw you.
“You didn’t call, and I’m pretty sure I told you to wear better clothing colours”
You internally cringed at how straight to the point the blonde was, and couldn’t help but blush as she called you out for ignoring her.
“I’m sorry, I was nervous and by the time I felt ready to call, I figured it would be too late”
“I don’t know if I’m more upset about you didn’t call because you were nervous, or the fact that you have Leah Williamson’s name on your back”
“Get me a better one then” you replied, whilst looking down at her jersey and back at her with a grin.
Alexia quickly stripped off her jersey, as you took off yours too, luckily you wore a tank top under it, Alexia’s eyes quickly dropping to your exposed chest.
“Your not subtle you know?”
“Who said I was trying to be?” The blonde was quick to reply back.
You only chuckled in response, and slipped on Alexia’s jersey, doing a little spin “How do I look?”
“Beautiful, much better wearing the jersey you belong in”
You weren’t sure if Alexia truly meant that, or if her extremely forward words were due to English not being her first language, but either way your face flushed deep crimson in retaliation to her comment.
The click of a pen lid being taken off woke you from your trance, and you peered up at Alexia, who tugged you closer by your waist, and quickly scribbled down her number once again.
“Pot favor, call me this time, promise?”
“I promise Ale, I will even let you choose the colour scheme of my outfit when we go out” you quipped back with a smile.
With a smirk, the blonde midfielder threw the England jersey on the floor, and walked away to meet Jana so they could walk into the locker room together.
Diego quickly ran towards you, only to pick you up and swing you around.
“I told you she would want you amiga! Your a snack!”
“Diego please never call me that again”
“Shut up! You should be thanking me, with out me, she would have never re-given you her number”
———————————————————————
A/N : I am halfway through writing part 3 🤍
567 notes · View notes
countryclubkook · 18 days
Note
thinking of topper’s gf cheating on him with rafe🤭
Favorite Secret
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Warnings: smut, cheating, mentions of alcohol, violence, blood, creampie, unprotected sex, P in V, not proofread
Summary: Your secret affair with Rafe almost goes terribly wrong when Topper decides to call in the middle of a hookup…almost
A/N: omg hii!! it’s been so so long since i’ve been on this account but I got a new job and a boyfriend🤭 life has been very very busy the last like year or so but I got the urge to write for my fav boy so I hope you guys enjoy this quick little fic🤍 and I hope all of you are well!
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“Fuck Rafe, feels so good oh my god” you cried out, arching your back as your eyes rolled back when his cock hit the perfect spot inside of you. It was fucked up, screwing around with your boyfriends best friend, especially when Topper treated you so well. He bought you everything you asked for, took you on nice dates, held the door open, complimented you. Never did anything to hurt you…until that night, until that one party changed everything.
“Ugh come on Top, i’m begging you to just come for like 10 minutes. If you still don’t want to be there after that we can leave and just come back here, watch movies or something” you’d been begging for the last hour, it was the biggest party of the year and his best friend was hosting but he said he was too tired to go. You knew it was actually just because there had been whispers on the island that Sarah planned to crash it with John B and their new pogue friends.
As much as he swore to you he was over it, you know that wasn’t true and you were fine with it. You trusted him, after all you were the one there for him when she broke his heart the first time, having to be the one to pick up the pieces every single time he gave her chance after chance, you knew what it’d done to him and his trust. Having to risk seeing her there with the guy she cheated on him with didn’t exactly sound like such a fun time.
“Listen I love you, but I really would just rather stay in tonight okay babe? There will be many more parties that we can go to in the future” he said, giving you a soft smile and cupping your cheek with his hand. He could see the disappointment on your face and felt bad, you were obviously excited about this and here he was shutting it down over rumors.
“Okay, whatever you want to do” you let out a defeated sigh and nuzzled your cheek closer into his palm, not wanting to argue over something like this. It just wasn’t worth it and you did enjoy nights in with just the two of you, plus he was right, there would be another party by next weekend.
“Damn it” he muttered under his breath before shaking his head slightly, “Okay okay, 10 minutes and that’s it, deal?” he barely got out the last word before you were squealing and throwing your arms around his neck He wrapped his arms around your waist and let out a small laugh, the smile on your face lighting up the whole room.
“Thank you thank you thank you! We’re going to have so much fun okay? You’re not going to want to leave by the time those 10 minutes are up, this is going to be the best night ever” famous. last. words.
Everything was great, the two of you were having the time of your life. Drinking and dancing together, talking with Rafe and a few of your other friends, then you slipped away for five minutes to use the bathroom, 5 minutes. Who knew so much could go wrong in just 5 minutes.
You walked out to see a crowd forming around two people and heard shouting, you’d expected to walk over and see two guys fighting like usual. Both of them far too drunk to even make contact with the other, but instead you saw your boyfriend on top of John B, his fist connecting to his cheek over and over and over again. You didn’t even like the kid but seeing blood and spit fly from his mouth and his gurgled wails of pain made you feel bad and you knew you needed to stop it.
You saw Rafe standing nearby watching, small smirk on his face as his eyes darted from the two boys to his sister begging Topper to stop while she sobbed. You walked up to him and touched his arm to bring his attention to you.
“Y/N! What’s up?” he said it so nonchalantly, like the scene in front of you wasn’t even happening. You knew he hates the pogues, hell you know he’d let John B die right then and there and feel no remorse, but he was the only one you knew had even the slightest chance of stopping it.
“Rafe you have to make them stop, it’s over okay? If you guys wanted to teach them a lesson i think they’ve learned it so can you please make it stop?” you could see him thinking about it, his brows furrowing ever so slightly and eyes going from you to Topper and John B to Sarah and then back to you.
“Mmm, I don’t know Y/N/N…kind of feel like he deserves it don’t you? I mean my slut of a sister cheats on my best friend, your boyfriend, with that good for nothing pogue and then they have the nerve to show up here? To rub it in his face? Why should I stop them?” he cocked his head and gave you a smirk, leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his red solo cup full of god knows what. You knew the only way to convince him was to use the one card you knew would work, the one you hated using against him in all the time you knew him.
“Because you don’t want your dad finding out about it. You’re not even supposed to be throwing parties here, what happens if a pogue ends up dead because of the party and Ward finds out? I couldn’t care less if he dies, i’m just trying to save your ass right now so please” you saw his jaw clench, watched his chest start rising and fall slowly, more heavily than before, and you knew it worked.
“Fuck! Fine, i’ll handle it” he yelled before throwing his cup on the ground and walking over to the two, by this point John B was barely conscious and it’s like Topper was in his own world. Rafe walked over and pulled him off by the collar of his shirt before ushering Sarah to attend to her boyfriend, screaming that the party was over and for everyone to get the fuck out.
People quickly dispersed, whispering to each other about what just happened, until it was just the three of you left at tannyhill. Top was still fuming, veins bulging out, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest rapidly heaving, knuckles bruised and bloody, a crazed look in his eyes. You tried to walk up to him to calm him down but it’s like he couldn’t even see you, he instead turned around and walked to his jeep before getting in and driving away, leaving you stranded.
“What the fuck?!” you screamed, standing at the bottom of the driveway watching the taillights disappear as they got further and further away.
You walked back up to the porch where Rafe was waiting, looking awkwardly at the ground unsure of what to say. What are you supposed to do in this situation other than offer them a ride…or in this case alcohol.
“I’m sorry Y/N, that was shitty of him. Give him some time to cool off and he’ll come back to his senses, if you uh, if you want you could just crash here. I would offer to drive you home but you know…” he said, making a brief gesture to himself “i’m kind of drunk so, don’t really want to risk hurting you. There’s plenty of alcohol if you want to just get drunk and pass out in the guest room, the beds freshly made and I think Sarah still has some clothes here that would fit you.”
“Thank you Rafe, that’s really sweet of you. Do you think you could um, stay with me? Just hang out here and talk, drink a little, I just don’t want to be alone right now” you sounded so pathetic, tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.
“Yeah, yeah absolutely”
One drink turned into another and then another, the both of you drunk and giggling while you talked. And then it happened, one little glance at his lips in a moment of shared silence, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, and you were in his lap kissing him. His hands roaming all over your body until you were pulling away to tell him to take you to the bedroom.
Clothes flying, drunken squeals and giggles slipping out between your moans, the way he made you feel, those were the only things you can clearly remember. And then you woke up the next morning staring at his naked chest, but you didn’t feel guilty for it, instead you wanted it to happen again.
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And it did, it happened multiple times a week. Topper did apologize, made up for his behavior that night, but you’d already got a taste of Rafe and now you were hooked. He never suspected anything, didn’t notice the little shared glances between the two of you when you all hung out, the way Rafe’s hand would brush against your thighs, his little whispers in your ear that made you squirm, he was just happy you forgave him. You never thought you’d be at risk getting caught until now, when you were on all fours and Rafe was thrusting into you from behind, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your hip to pull you back into his cock. The both of you were so lost in pleasure that Rafe almost didn’t hear his phone going off, he quickly moved to grab it off the table and answer it.
“Topper, what’s up man?” your eyes widened, panic starting to kick in. You’d thought it was over, he knew, someone had seen something and told him, he put the pieces together, he was calling to tell him he knew.
“Y/N? Yeah she came by to pick something up, said she left it here the last time you guys were over and she had to be out this way anyway. Think she’s still upstairs” you let out a moan when he thrusted back into you unexpectedly, turning your head back to look at him with a bewildered expression. He just gave a a smirk and held his finger to his lips before moving it back to your hip and pulling you back into him to meet each thrust.
You dropped your face into the mattress to muffle any loud moans, pure bliss taking over your body each time Rafe’s cock pressed against that little spot inside your pussy, hoping the call would be over soon. And then the son of a bitch flips you over, puts you on your back and gives you that look. You know, the one that just screams ‘i’m up to no good and you’re about to hate me for this’.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, looking up at him in confusion while trying not to make a sound.
“Actually, she just came down. You wanna talk to her real quick before she finishes up and heads that way?” if looks could kill he’d be six feet under right about now, you shook your head but it was too late, the phone was by your ear and you had no choice.
“Hey baby” it came out shakier than planned and you hoped he wouldn’t question it, it was a lot harder hiding the fact you were cheating on your boyfriend when the man you’re cheating with had his cock buried deep inside your pussy thrusting into you like his life depends on it while on call with said boyfriend.
“Is everything okay? You sound a little winded babe” he was always so concerned, wanting to make sure you were okay at all times if he even suspected something was wrong.
“Better tell him you’re okay princess, don’t let him find out his best friend is balls deep inside his girlfriends pretty pussy” Rafe whispered in your ear, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck and chest.
“Yeah, just a lot of running around the house looking for my ring is a-all” you stuttered out when Rafe pushed all the back into you again, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut.
“Okay…well I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? There’s this really nice restaurant i’ve been wanting to take you to, finally managed to get a reservation, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about” you weren’t even fully listening to what he was saying to be honest, you were paying more attention to how good you felt and the smell of Rafe’s cologne, the way his skin felt against yours, how your bodies seemed to mold together perfectly.
“Yea-yeah babe. Sounds great” you were about to let out a moan when long ring clad fingers found their way into your mouth and you, on instinct, bit down slightly.
“Great! I’ll be at your place to pick you up in like an hour okay? I love you”
“Great! Love you too bye” you quickly got out before hanging up and letting out a moan, digging your nails into Rafe’s back.
“Fuck baby i’m close, you want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want a little reminder that even if you’re with him, you’ll always be mine?” you could only nod, small whimpers filling the room.
A few more lazy thrusts before he pushed all the way into you and stayed there, feeling his cock twitch while he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenching around him while you came at the same time, head thrown back and lips parted moaning his name, a white ring forming on his cock from your cum mixing with his. He pulled out after a few seconds and pulled you to your knees before sliding his cock in your mouth.
“Suck it off baby, just clean it up for me” and you did, licking every drop of your cum off his cock before he pulled out and got dressed.
You went to grab something to wipe the cum away when he stopped you.
“Nah, you go on your little date with my cum leaking out of you”
You gave him a dazed look before nodding and throwing your dress back on followed by your shoes, giving him a kiss and heading for the door.
“That was fun Rafe, i’ll call you later okay?”
“I know you will pretty girl, I look forward to it.” the smile on his face was genuine, not one that he had after a meaningless hookup, but one of true happiness. You brought out the best in him and he couldn’t even have you in any way other than this.
“Me too, I better go now. See ya” you were almost out the front door when you heard him yell your name. You turned around to see him leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom, waiting to see what he had to say.
“You’re my favorite secret”
401 notes · View notes
221bshrlocked · 3 months
Text
fatal dis|at|traction
Pairing: Hunter x AFAB!Reader
Words: 9774
Warnings: Unrequited feelings (in more ways than one). Touch-starved characters. Lots of sweet/dirty talk. Hunter likes to tease a lot. Oral Sex (female receiving). Fingering. Squirting. Just a bit of a knife kink (it's not everyone's cup of tea so it's a very short scene). Pentrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up folks). Creampie. Cuddling.
Summary: You have feelings for Tech who is now taken. Hunter notices your little predicament and decides to offer you a solution, one that you take enthusiastically. Little do you know that this could be the start of something new.
A/N: It's been a minute but I'm very thankful for the Life Day Gift Exchange by @cloneficgiftexchange because I finally managed to write something. This is for @intricatechaosofyou who gave a prompt after my own heart. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Coincidentally, this also fits into one of the @clonexreaderbingo prompts I got which I am embarrsingly behind on.
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With every little chuckle you heard from Phee, your heart beat in jealousy at not being Tech’s center of attention. You thought it wouldn’t be an issue in the beginning, assuming that Tech would remain uninterested in Phee’s flirtatious advances. But the more she hung out with the team, the more he warmed up to her subtle compliments and faint touches. Before you knew what was happening, he was hanging out with her whenever you and the batch had time off from the crazy missions Sid continued to send you on. 
Then she took you to Pabu and things really spiraled. Their time together increased each day and you barely got to see him. You couldn’t blame him really, or Phee. You just wished you had more time or perhaps been a bit more brave about your feelings towards him.
Another random laugh fills the afternoon air, this time from Tech, and you can’t help but stop what you’re doing and look at the two of them enjoying the preparation for Life Day. You look with longing at the man who managed to captivate your heart with a simple, random fact, and you sigh heavily at knowing that you’ll never really have a chance with him. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter breaks your sad train of thought, and you turn around to look at him, silently praying that he didn’t just notice you staring at his brother. You pack the decoration boxes and look down to the ground, pretending you don’t understand what he’s talking about. 
“What?” You ask once, and when Hunter doesn’t respond right away, you glance at him quickly to try and gauge his reaction, hoping that you can fool him by acting as clueless as possible about his question. He stares at you silently, uncrossing his arms and heading towards you to help you out with the rest of the boxes.
“I- I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Sarge.” You say in passing as you make your way to the storehouse, already thinking of some lie to respond with in case he dragged this out. When you set down all the empty containers, you shut the door behind the two of you and head towards the center of the town. 
“Don’t do that…not with me.” Hunter breaks the silence after a while, stopping you in your tracks and waiting until you acknowledge him. You ring your fingers nervously, gulping down the nervousness that built up in your throat before facing him. There’s another fake reply at the tip of your tongue but before you can say anything, Hunter beats you to it, stopping you from embarrassing yourself any further. 
“Come on, you can’t lie to me.” He furrows his eyebrows, looking at the couple standing not too far from you before centering his attention back on you again.
“I’m not lying.” You’re more defensive than you’d like and Hunter sighs in irritation, shaking his head and taking those last few steps towards you. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass you but he knows this conversation won’t go anywhere unless you willingly open up to him. 
“Then why is your heart racing? I can practically feel you shaking. You’re not even looking at me.” Your palms grow sweaty the more he reveals those little details about you. 
“Talk to me.” You never thought you’d hear him plead for anything and when you finally look at him, you see a genuine, heartfelt expression on his face, one that makes you feel even more horrible about the predicament you found yourself in. 
“It’s not important, don’t- just don’t worry about it.” You wave your hand around and turn around to walk away from him, only to feel a strong hold wrap around your wrist and stop you from going anywhere else. 
“Tech is a genius, but he can be incredibly dense at times.” Hunter waits until you meet his eyes again before he whispers that last sentiment. The shock of the exclamation sends your heart racing, and your eyes widen in horror at the prospect of everyone else potentially knowing your feelings for Tech. 
“Wha- how…how did you know?”
“I know mesh’la, I know.” He loosens his grip a little, but doesn’t let you go completely, not wanting you to run away from him. The two of you stand in quietness for too long to your liking, and you give up on trying to pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. 
You give up on trying to make it seem like you’re okay. 
“Is it that obvious?” The chuckle is self-deprecating, and you avoid looking into his hazel gray eyes, afraid you’d cry if he continues to give you that horribly sentimental expression. 
“Not to the others, although Echo guessed just as much a while back. But no, the others don’t know.” Hunter lets go of you then, but he doesn’t move away from you, wanting you to know that he’s here to help in whatever you’ll allow him to. 
“How did you find out?” You move away from the crowd slowly forming around the town square, wanting to have some privacy from prying eyes, from Wrecker and Omega. 
“I notice the way your eyes light up whenever he walks in the room, or goes on one of those rants about kriff knows what.” Anyone else would have laughed at you, but you feel at peace knowing that Hunter would never tease you about something like this. He was too kind to joke about such an intimate little secret. 
“Hmm.”
“And your heart beats like you’ve just run across the whole of Coruscant.” Hunter adds as he comes to a halt in front of the house you reserved for yourself when you first got to Pabu. 
“Ahh, that is extremely embarrassing.” You turn away from him as you respond, not wanting to be at the receiving end of whatever comment he was going to throw your way.
“It’s not…it’s natural to react that way when you have feelings towards someone.” You’re a little surprised by his explanation, mostly because you never thought he’d be the type to speak so sweetly about something as awkward as emotions. 
“Right.” You can’t help but smile when you see him shrug at you, and as you’re about to unlock your door, Hunter turns around and grabs the knob, preventing you from reaching for it, let alone turn around and get away from him. 
“You know what you need?” He asks, and you shiver at the sudden drop in his voice, wondering why he was suddenly becoming so friendly with you. 
“Please enlighten me, because this whole conversation hasn’t been humiliating enough as is.” You laugh in an attempt to diffuse the tension slowly building in between the two of you, but Hunter doesn’t crack a single smile, roaming his eyes down your neck and taking in a deep breath before meeting your gaze once more. 
“You need to get your mind off of him, just for a little while. Find a distraction…sometimes you have to stay busy so you don’t feel.” You’re too distracted by the proximity between his body and your own to dwell on the true meaning behind his words. 
“Yeah well, good thing we’re staying here. Helping rebuild the city will definitely take my mind off of him and…ugh, I guess make me focus less on seeing the two of them together.” Looking past him to the slowly busying town square, you completely miss the way he bites his lower lip as he studies you closely and shakes his head at your response. 
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh yeah, what do you mean th-” Turning your focus back to him, the words die in your throat when you finally notice the way he’s looking at you. You part your lips in a gasp, finding it difficult to breathe as Hunter leans into your space and groans his intentions against your jaw. 
“I mean…you need to get your mind off of him, and onto something else…perhaps someone else.” Your body freezes at the unexpected intimacy of the moment, and although you know you should push him away and tell him to forget whatever was happening, you tell yourself that this might just be what you need to forget about Tech. 
“I s-see.” Hunter’s hand reaches for your waist, holding you against him until he’s sure you’re accepting his advances. He smiles at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief that sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 
It was a warm day in Pabu, but having Hunter flush against your chest makes you even more heated, and you gulp down whatever nervousness was threatening to make itself known in the form of a rejection, allowing your fingers to dance along his forearm before you grab onto his shoulders for support. 
“W-what do you have in mind?” He gets even more bold then, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you in until you nearly bump your forehead against his nose. 
“I think you know.” His voice is gravely, and it occurs to you then that he may have always had this deep baritone, but you just never truly appreciated it until now. 
“Humor me, Sarge.” You smirk right back at him, eyes dancing from his lips to his piercing gaze in preparation for what he’s about to say. 
“Well, you’ll first need to find someone willing to help you out, someone who knows all about distractions. Then, you take them somewhere private and…how should I put this, kindly ask them to fuck your brains out…take the edge off a little…and if you start thinking of him again, you get on your knees and have them dick you down real hard…till you can’t think straight.” His lips graze across the skin of your cheek, down to your neck, as he promises you the filthiest sentiments, and if you weren’t sure you knew the man standing in front of you was far beyond the average man, you would have asked him how he had you melting into his arms in such a small period of time. 
“Maker,” you nearly reach up to kiss him but then quickly remember that anyone can see you. Before you can push him away, Hunter nudges you harshly to get your attention again, not wanting you to get distracted by your surroundings or if anyone might hear what the two of you have in mind. 
“Hmm, I think your body agrees with me sweetheart. Why don’t you have that tired brain of yours catch up?” He nods at your head, tilting his head to the side as if he was asking you a silent question. 
“Do you…do you know someone that can do all of what you just said?” 
“You’re right in luck baby, I happen to be free for the next couple of hours.” Hunter responds right away, knowing that it would be extremely difficult to have you like this again. 
“Ahhh, t-that saves me from looking then.” You smile when he rests against you and nudges your nose with his own, aquiline one. 
“So, what do you want?” Again, his voice is smoother than honey, sending you spiraling in a matter of seconds out of anticipation. 
“I thought you…don’t be cruel, please.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling the rough stubble across his sharp cheeks burn you in the sweetest way. Hunter turns his head far enough to finally tough his lips with your own, the kiss ending far too quickly to your liking but leaves you begging for more. 
“Never…never. I mean, how do you want it mesh’la? You want it slow, soft, sensual…” He slithers his hands across your body, leaving a trail of fire across your skin with each sweet touch he graces you with. 
“Or do you like it hard and fast…till you can’t scream anymore?” He digs his nails into your curves then grabbing and squeezing your ass until you nearly fall against him.
“Oh fuck…I- Hunter, please.”
“You’re a big girl, use your words and tell me what you want!” Hunter combs his hand into your hair, tugging on it harshly until you throw your head back and give him access to your neck. He descends down on you like a madman, nipping and sucking on the soft expanse of your skin until you’re panting in his embrace. 
“You want me to be sweet with you…or do you want to feel me with every step you take tomorrow?” He licks the bitemarks he’s left behind, chuckling to himself when he feels you shaking in his arms and practically begging him to fuck you right out in the open. 
“Please Hunter, be- be rough with me. As rough as you want.” You reach for the collar of his shirt, fisting it in your hands as if you were holding on for dear life. You should have known that as everything else, Hunter would easily take you down without breaking a sweat. 
“A girl after my own heart.” He chuckles then, the sweet sound shooting straight into your chest and making you wish he just pushed the door behind you open and took you somewhere more private. 
“I’ll take my time with you next time baby, worship every fucking inch of your body as you deserve. But tonight…tonight I’m going to teach you how to take me…please me…open up for me and take my cum like the good girl I know you are.” He kisses across your damp skin in between words, finding it difficult to continue holding back when he could practically smell your arousal the more he whispers into your ears. 
“I’m going to fuck you into the next galaxy sweetheart, till the only name your pretty little brain can remember is mine and mine alone.” Your heart beats so fast Hunter thinks you might pass out, but as you melt into his arms and pull him closer to you, he knows that you’re enjoying this as much as he was. 
“And believe me when I tell you, I’ll know if you’re thinking of him. So be a pretty little sweetheart and focus on me.” He moves away to take a better look at you, raising a curious eyebrow when he finds you completely lost in every touch and every sweet word he was gifting you with. 
“Yes,” you barely manage to breathe out, waiting for whatever he still has in stock for you. 
“Yes?” Hunter asks, his expression turning more serious when you open your eyes and look right into his own. There’s something so erotic about how much he can sense every little reaction you have to his advances, but he sets his thoughts aside long enough to hear you openly consent to him. 
“Yes, sergeant.” Those two words are music to his ears, and he steps away instantly, but not before making sure you can still stand on your own two feet. You snap out of your haze when you no longer feel the heat of his body against yours. 
“Good girl.” He grabs your hand and leads you away from your home, down the tiled pathway towards the quieter side of the island. 
“Where…where are you taking me?”
“Some place where you can scream my name without worrying about anyone hearing you.” He nearly stops in his tracks when he hears you moan in response to his words, but he knows that if he looks back now, he might never make it to his own place. If anything, the reaction he gets out of you makes him walk quicker, not caring for how you stumble several times as he continues towards the smaller, but more private homes at the bottom of the island. 
You can’t look away from him, and as you follow him blindly, you find yourself surprised at not wishing he was someone else. Maybe because you’ve always found him objectively handsome, all the clones were if you were being honest, or perhaps because you’ve always wondered what it would be like to be with someone like Hunter, someone who you knew would be so attuned to every sound and every muscle twitch you’d have that he’d know instantly how to please you. But the longer you dwell on it, the more you realize that you’re lucky to have someone like him pay you this much attention, or even be willing to give you this favor. 
Little did you know that while you were longing for Tech, Hunter was struggling to keep his own feelings at bay. He didn’t want to take advantage of you, far from it, but he figured that maybe, just maybe, if he showed you how much he cares for you, you’d look at him instead of his brother. 
He can feel your eyes on him, and his heart skips a beat at the prospect of finally having your attention. Hunter wants to ask you if you’re sure about this, but as he approaches his residence, he finds himself less willing to break the two of you out of whatever cloud you’ve fallen under, afraid that you’d change your mind and leave. 
The thought nearly breaks his heart, but as he slows down and unlocks his door, he feels your hands shaking even harder, and he knows then that he needs to give you an out because you may not be able to take it yourself. 
“Sweet girl, you’re trembling.” He turns around and cups your neck, forcing you to look into his eyes so you’re sure he doesn’t mind if you walk away from him. 
“If you’ve changed your mind…if- if you don’t want this anymore, we can stop. It’s- it’s okay.” The words sound less convincing to his ears, but he braces himself for the rejection he’s sure you’re about to give him. 
“No, Hunter please.” Your instant response sends a wave of relief and reluctance through his chest, and his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they soften again, knowing that if you noticed his expression, you might push through just to not upset him. 
“I won’t have you against your will baby.” He leans over and kisses the small space in between your eyebrows, waiting until you relax against him before he pulls away and meets your gaze again. 
“I want this, Hunter. I- I want you. I’d be lying to myself if I said otherwise.” You tug at his forearms, wanting him to not shy away from you, perhaps even afraid that he’d change his mind and tell you to leave. Your nerves slowly rise again and Hunter must sense your spiraling thoughts because he pulls you into the small space and shuts the door behind you, pushing you against the wall and stepping impossibly close to you so you can only feel him. 
“Tell me what you need. Right this moment.” 
“Can you just...hold me for a minute? I- I need to feel your arms around me.” You barely manage to breathe out the request, not because you think he’ll laugh at it but because you find yourself having a difficult time thinking of a single coherent thought. 
“Sure thing ad’ika, come here.” Hunter slowly walks back to the small bed at the edge of the wall, sitting down on the soft surface of the covers before pulling you into his lap. You follow him quietly, finding it oddly soothing to have him in control of your actions rather than your own mind. You throw your arms around him and rest your head on his chest, willing yourself to relax as soon as you feel his hands roam across your back soothingly. 
“I want you to focus on my heartbeat.” You do as he says, moving your head down a little further so you can listen to his heart. If you’re shocked by how much faster it is, you say nothing and dwell on the fact that he may be just as nervous as you are. 
“Take deep breaths,” Hunter slides one hand underneath your shirt to test the waters, shutting his eyes and smiling to himself when your muscles relax deeper into him. 
“Nothing else matters, little one. Only you, and me…right here and now.” He reminds you one last time, massaging your back and turning his head every once in a while to kiss you. Hunter shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory, unsure of whether he’ll ever get to have you like this again or not. He says nothing after, wanting to ensure that you have all the time you need before the two of you do anything. 
You’re not sure how long you spend in his arms but when you no longer feel nervous at being in his presence, you pull away and rest your hands on his chest, willing yourself to be brave enough to look into his eyes after experiencing such an intimate moment with him. 
“Feeling better?” He reaches for your chin and moves it up softly to take a better look at you. As soon as he looks into your eyes, he smiles at you, waiting until you return the expression before doing anything else. 
“Hmm.”
“Then why don’t you lay back for me.” He moves you off of him and studies you closely as you maneuver yourself around his bed. You’re less shy than before, that he’s sure of, but you do as he says more confidently, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Hunter, and makes him imagine all that he can do to you. 
“You know, I- I always thought you had a soothing voice,” you break the silence reluctantly, biting your lower lip when you notice Hunter smirking at the unexpected sentiment. 
“Yeah?” He questions as he kneels on the bed and slowly crawls towards you. 
“Yes, but now…now I’m realizing it’s your presence.” You waver in your response, finding it difficult to think of anything when he’s looking at you like you’re his prey. 
“Tell me more.” Hunter demands, dancing his fingers across whatever skin he has access to and watching as goosebumps erupt across your body at the simple touches. 
“It’s in your touch, your- kriff, your movements…your gaze.” You arch your back when Hunter digs his nose at the space just above the edge of your pants and takes a long whiff of your scent. You think that if anyone else has done something so strange, you’d be turned off by it, but this was Hunter, and scenting was important to him, especially since he must have been getting awfully close to you because he liked what he could smell. 
“Glad to be of service,” he comments in passing, nudging your shirt up to get more access to the skin of your stomach. He kisses your navel, breathing you in with each new bit of flesh he came across. 
“Gods above,” you can’t take it anymore, reaching for his shoulder and trying to pull him closer to you so he could speed things up a bit. 
“No sweetheart, it’s only me.” He chuckles at the whine you send his way, looking up at you as he parts your thighs and makes space for himself in between. 
“You’re d-driving me insane Hunter.” Hunter doesn’t move an inch as you try to bring him closer. If anything, he slows down even more and takes both of your hands into his own, softly kissing the wrist of each one before bringing them above your head. 
“If you’re still coherent, then I’m not driving you insane enough.” He’s teasing you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was pushing you to a point where you could do nothing but beg for him. So distracted with the patterns he’s drawing across your arms, you don’t realize where the other hand is reaching until you feel his grip tighten around your throat. 
“Ahh, please.” You arch your back, grabbing the sheets beneath you in an attempt to keep your hands where he asked you to. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and surrender to his lips, but you knew better than to disobey his orders. Hunter was a strict man in the field, and you were positive he wasn’t any different in this context. If anything, he was probably even more severe now. At least you hoped he would be. 
“And remember baby, it’s ‘Sergeant’ for you. Got it?”
“Yes, sergeant.”
“Now, do me a favor and keep your hands there.” He taps twice on them, waiting until you nod in agreement before he sits back up and takes your wrecked form. He hoped you’d open up for him easily, but he never thought you’d be so needy, let alone greedy for him. 
“But how will you take my clothes off?” You pout at him, the expression making Hunter wish he could flip you over and fuck you into oblivion. But he knew you needed him to be soft tonight, even if you were adamant in making him get a little rough with you. 
“Let’s not spoil the fun.” He warns with a pinch to your hip, chuckling at the way you jump and your thighs unintentionally close around him. 
“A bit sensitive, aren’t we?” He rests one hand near your head as he leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth, waiting for you to breathe before touching your lips with his own. It’s a chaste kiss, yet it sends your heart leaping through the roof because of how unexpectedly tender it is. 
“I…haven’t done this in a while.” You whisper against his mouth, chasing him along when he begins to pull away again. 
“Shame,” it’s such a simple comment, and yet you feel a string of butterflies in your stomach at the implication behind it. The fact that you held Hunter’s focus when so many on the island were begging for it makes you wish he could have approached you sooner. 
“Hmmph,” the sound of your moan reaches your ear instantly, and you try to hide from Hunter out of embarrassment, but he doesn’t let you, moving down your body slowly and continuing to drive you mad with need for him. 
“Go on baby, moan for me.”
“What if s-someone hears?”
“Everyone’s in town for the celebrations,” he reaches down and unbutton your pants, looking straight into your eyes as he pulls the fabric down your legs and throws it behind him. You try to close your legs quickly, afraid he could smell how wet you are. But Hunter is much faster than you, and he prevents you from moving another muscle, looking down once at the dark patch on your panties before meeting your eyes again, silently letting you know that he could smell you long before this very moment. 
“No one’ll hear you, mesh’la. So beg all you want, you’re mine tonight.” He slips one finger beneath the edge of your panties, thumbing at the skin of your hips to get you to calm down a little before he does anything else. 
“Only tonight?” You don’t mean to ask this question, not now at least, but you figured you may as well see if this was a one-time thing or not. 
“Oh I don’t get to decide that, you do.” He surprises you with his answer, and the shock must be visible on your face because Hunter tilts his head to the side and stares at you until you realize you really were in control of what goes on between the two of you. 
“So if I- oh kriff, if I want you to fuck me every night…”
“Then ask me nicely.” He slips one hand underneath your shirt, raising it above your stomach to your chest and laying it across your sternum to feel your heartbeat. When you don’t respond right away, he slides his hand a little further and draws random patterns just below your breast. 
“Better yet, beg me sweetly…and I’ll give you my cock whenever you like.” He promises as he continues to edge you into submission, something that makes you wish you could yell at him about and thank him for. 
“T-thank you, sarge.” Your breathing becomes erratic the longer he touches you anywhere but where you want him, and just as you begin to give up hope, he removes his hands completely from your form and reaches behind him. 
“Do you trust me cyar’ika?” The question is asked with hesitance, and you’re not sure why he’s asking you this all of a sudden, but when you hear the sound of a clasp coming undone, you know why he’s being so serious. 
“You know I do.” It’s the first thing you said since he dragged you behind him where you aren’t practically shaking beneath him, and once he’s completely satisfied with your response, he pulls out the blade from its holster and flips it around. You’re enamored by the swift movement of the weapon as it dances in between his fingers, and the faster Hunter plays with the knife, the more difficult you find it to breathe. 
“Then look at me.” He demands as he stops swinging the knife around, and you obey him instantly, gulping excitedly as he leans over your body once again and places the sharp end of the knife at the top of your shirt, inches below your neck.  
“Don’t,” Hunter warns slowly, nicking small holes into your shirt until the article of clothing rips down the middle, “move,” his voice is somehow even more gravely than before, and you stop breathing altogether, not because you think he’ll hurt you but because you can’t help but feel turned on by how focused he is on you and how safe you feel with something so dangerous, “a muscle.” He continues to ruin your shirt and you can’t find it in yourself to care one bit, knowing that being at Hunter’s mercy was worth far more than any shirt you could own. When he completely separates both sides of the fabric, he slips the wide edge of the knife beneath the fabric and pushes it to the side before grabbing the other with his fingers and displaying your nude skin to his hungry eyes. 
You let out a deep breath and refuse to look anywhere else but his dilated pupils, clenching your thighs tightly at knowing that you were the reason behind such a dramatic reaction from him. 
“I can smell you, little one. Does this turn you on?” He finally looks away from your heaving chest to your eyes, and when he finds you already staring at him, he smiles to himself and places the knife down gently on the small table near his bed. You’re disappointed that he clearly won’t be using it anymore, and Hunter notices the small expression because he trails his fingers down your front and pinches one nipple to get your attention. 
“Use your words and tell me.” You arch into his rough ministrations, whispering your response and moaning for more. 
“Y-yes, it does.”
“I knew you’d be fun.” He soothes the heated skin of your breast, drawing small circles around one nipple just as he leans down and takes the other in between his teeth. You whine his name over and over again, and Hunter growls his approval against you, lapping up the bitemarks he left around your hardened peak before sucking harshly on it again. 
“Fuck, I do love how sensitive you are.” He manages to say right before diving for the other nipple and tasting your natural scent along with the soap you use to shower. 
“And how hard your nipples perk at the touch of my fingers.” He thinks you’re about to move one hand so he reaches quickly for it, gripping it tightly and keeping it against the bed while he leaves angry marks across your chest. 
“Ahh maker, please sergeant.” Your moans are becoming louder, and Hunter decides then and there that if you were going to scream for him, it should be his name falling from your lips, not his rank. The only warning you get before he descends down your body is his hand slipping underneath your panties and instantly pushing two fingers into your cunt. You’re dripping for him, and his thick fingers rub against your tight walls with an embarrassing ease. 
“Kriff, I know I asked you to call me that, but forget it.” Hunter looks into your eyes as he lets go of your wrist and grabs the back of your neck, not bothering to say anything else as he lunges for your mouth and swallows your moans. You part your thighs and your lips for him, not caring for any rule he’s given you as you throw your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. He fingers you slowly, but as begin to clench tightly around him, Hunter can’t hold back anymore and he moves off of you with a wet smack before crawling down your body. You’re shocked by the sudden urgency of his movement, and as soon as you reach for his hair and tug on it, you feel his warm lips close around your clit and his tongue aggressively lap at the engorged bundle of nerves. 
“I want you to scream my name, mesh’la. Scream my name as you come on my tongue.” 
“Hu- ahhh g-gods!” You’re not aware of what you’re saying, and the harder Hunter thrusts his fingers into you, the quicker you feel your release coming along. 
“You smell…so sweet.” Hunter manages to breathe in between his assault on your pussy, and you let go of his hair to grab for the sheets beneath you, not wanting to hurt him by how hard you’d pull on his hair. 
“But you taste so much sweeter.” He feels his cock harden as the taste and scent of you fill his nostrils. Normally, he’d find it overwhelming to be surrounded by so many strong scents, but the more you gush for him, the more he wants to dive into you and make you soak him with your arousal. 
“Hunter, oh right there…please.” You reach for his hair again, but this time, you pull so hard that his red bandana comes off in your hand and reminds you to loosen your hold so as to not overwhelm him with too many sensations. 
“Sorry, I-” You try to apologize but the words trail off when Hunter looks up and shakes his head at you. 
“I don’t mind, sweet thing. Go on, pull as hard as you want.” He leans down and kisses the hand near his head, nipping at your thumb to let you know that he was feeling more than okay. 
“But won’t that-” You don’t want him to feel like he needs to do this for you, but Hunter distracts you again, rubbing at your clit with his thumb to get you to listen to him. 
“Please cyar’ika, let me feel you…everywhere.” Hunter begs you, pushing your thighs apart even more in an attempt to get you to do as he says. He doesn’t wait for a response then, descending down on you again with more passion than you thought him capable of in such a setting, and before you know it, he has you right at the edge with his expert hands and his enthusiastic mouth. You should have known that he’d know what you like quickly, but something about him being so attuned to your responses pushes you closer to your orgasm, and before you know it, you’re shutting your eyes and letting the flood of sensations overtake you. 
“Hmm fuck, that’s it.” You scratch at his scalp as you pull on his hair, the action driving Hunter nearly mad and making him grab at your stomach to keep you planted to his face. 
“Hunter…I- I’m co-” His harsh breathing and how hard he continues to lick at your clit is all you need to fall apart, and as soon as he coils his fingers inside you and rubs your tight walls, you come around him instantly, shaking violently beneath his firm body and screaming nonsense into the damp air of the room. It’s becoming nearly too much, and although you want him to stop, you can’t find it in yourself to push him away, a part of you sensing that he may need this as much as you. So you let him continue his assault on your cunt, and before you realize what’s about to happen, Hunter pulls away and watches as you soak his arms and his bed with your juices. He doesn't let up once, plunging his fingers into you so quickly that you manage to wet even his thighs. When he hears your heart beating impossibly rapidly against your chest, he slows down and removes his hand from you, pulling away and watching as your panties hide you from his eyes again. 
He waits until you look at him before he slowly sucks on each of his fingers, smirking to himself when you hide behind your arms and close your thighs immediately. 
“I changed my mind.” His voice is rough, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s turned on or because he’s having a difficult time breathing just as you. Then the words settle in your remind and you move your hands away to take a better look at him. 
“W-what?” You don’t have time to grab him as he gets off the bed and reaches for his shirt, throwing it away as well before unzipping his pants and pulling them down his thighs and stepping out of them before kneeling on the bed again. 
“We can do rough later. Right now, I want to watch you come undone…slowly.” He grabs your ankles and pulls them apart, not caring for how blatant he’s being with his staring as he moves towards you again. 
“Fuck baby, you’re gushing for me.” His disbelief sends a shiver down your spine and you softly smack his thigh to get his attention away from your heated core. 
“Hunter, don’t- don’t say stuff like that.”
“And why shouldn’t I?” He narrows his eyes at you, daring you to say anything in disagreement. 
“It’s…embarrassing.” You manage to whisper out, only to have Hunter shamelessly wipe the wetness over your legs with his hand. 
“No, it’s fucking sexy mesh’la….and if I had known taking my shirt off would turn you on this much, I would have walked around naked since you came on board.” He reaches for your hand and you squeal suddenly when he tugs you harshly until you nearly smack his chest. Looking down at you, Hunter bites into his lower lips as he pulls the rest of your shirt away and throws it away, not bothering to push you back into bed when you rest your hands against his naked chest and feel his muscles flex and unflex. 
“Speaking of taking things off…” You try to grab your panties but Hunter stops you, shaking his head and bringing your hand back to his skin. 
“No, keep’em on.” 
“But-”
“These are mine now, and I want nothing more than to smell your cunt and my cum on them…when I take them.” Hunter nods down at the wet article of clothing as he swipes your hair away from your face and softly grazes your bruised lips. 
“Hmph, you’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” He wonders out loud when you turn away from and rest your forehead against his stomach, once again feeling a sense of pride wash over him at being the one to bring such a reaction out of you. 
“Do the honors.” He takes your hands and moves them down his rigid form, not missing the way your breath hitches when you feel the muscles on his stomach flutter at the soft touch of your palms. You don’t dare look up at him as you drag his boxers down his hips until his cock juts out from beneath the elastic. 
“Oh fuck me.” You stop what you’re doing as soon as you see the size of him, and Hunter uses your moment of distraction to his advantage, pushing you back into the bed and moving away to step out of his boxers before returning to you again. 
“Since you asked so nicely.” He remembers the biosheath and finds one in his drawer instantly, but before he can take it out, you take his wrist and bring it back to you. 
“Wait-” You stop him, unsure of what to say now that he was looking at you with such an unreadable expression. 
“You don’t have to- like I said, I haven’t done this in…in a while. And I’ve-” Your attempts to explain to him that you don’t have anything and that you wouldn’t mind it if he didn’t use a biosheath with you evaporate into thin air, and as you give up on trying to relay the message, Hunter shuts the drawer and lays on top of you. One look into his eyes gives you away and you turn from him to avoid whatever embarrassing words you’re sure he’s about to relay to you. 
“You want me to fill you with my seed, little one?” The question is asked in such a low voice that you nearly miss the playfulness in between. You refuse to acknowledge him, afraid of how much he’d drag this out if you told him outright that you wanted to feel him leak out of you. 
“You want me to fuck my cum deep inside your pretty little cunt?” He asks again, this time as he slips his hand in between your bodies and wraps his palm around his hard cock, lazily stroking his length while teasing your clothed clit with the tip of his dick. He goes on for too long, and when you can’t take it anymore, you moan in agreement, hoping that the outburst pushes him to finally, finally, fuck you. 
“O-ohh gods, please…please.” The way he cups himself and teases the both of you nearly sends you into overdrive, and just as you begin to give up hope, Hunter tugs aside your panties, and pushes his cock against your wet folds, giving you a taste of what’s to come. 
“Keep begging baby.”
“Please Hunter…I need you. I- I want you to come inside me, want to feel you all night long.” He was planning on making you cry for him, but the sound of your voice telling him everything he’s heard a thousand times in his dreams sends him reeling and before he can warn you, he pushes his cock into your slit, arms nearly giving out at finally feeling your cunt welcome him in. You arch your back as soon as you feel his thick, hard cock fill you, and although you should be embarrassed at how easily he slides into you, you don’t bother thinking about it, not when Hunter was finally giving you what you’ve been craving. 
“Kriffing hells, you feel so good mesh’la…so tight and hot for me.” He stops moving, the heat of your cunt making him nearly lose his mind and whatever bit of control left in him. 
“Hunter-” You don’t like the fact that he’s stopped pushing into you, but then he moves and you realize that maybe you needed a second to get used to him after all. 
“I know, love. I know, just a little bit more.” Hunter kisses your forehead, lips quivering at the thought of being too much for you to handle. He waits until you’re relaxed a little before he gives you more of his cock, and when you drag your nails across his arms and grab onto his shoulder, he stops again to soothe you. 
“You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?” 
“Yes…oh maker yes.” Your voice breaks, making Hunter wish you weren’t so kriffing sensitive to him. 
“Then open up for me…take me.” He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck, licking and nipping at the taut skin in an attempt to distract you from whatever discomfort you were feeling. 
“Haa…ahh, you’re- so fucking hard.” Your words are unexpected, and Hunter fists his hands tightly into his pillows so he doesn’t do something he’d regret. He unintentionally thrusts the rest of his dick into your pussy, the action knocking the breath out of the both of you and sending a strike of pleasure down your spine.
“Only for you, sweetheart. O-only for you.” Hunter breathes against your chest, cursing at how much better you felt now than in his dreams. He could feel every inch of you squeeze him, and if it weren’t for the fact that you told him it’s been a while, Hunter would have begged to fuck you like he wanted. But it has been a while, and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. When you wince at the slightest of movements, Hunter pulls back and studies you, carefully listening to your heartbeat and looking over you to see if you were too uncomfortable to do this now. 
“Are you okay?” He should be the one asking you this question, not the other way around, and even though a million compliments run through his mind, he barely manages to respond to your question. 
“Fuck, I’m more than okay.” He hisses out as you clench around him, and before he can let you know that he’s not reacting out of pain but of indescribable pleasure, you reach for his hair and tug him down, begging for him to do anything besides remaining still. 
“Then move…” You cross your legs behind his back to tempt him into moving against you, but Hunter remains impossibly still, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to tell you why he’s having a difficult time moving. 
“N-not yet, just let me feel you. Let me…feel all of you.” He hopes it’s enough for you to stop asking him to move, but he should have known better. 
“Is- is it too much?” Your shyness makes itself known again, and Hunter swears beneath his breath because he genuinely didn’t mean to come off so strained in his response. 
“No, it’s- you’re perfect.” It’s both everything he’s feeling and barely an explanation of what he’s reserved for you for so long, but he can’t find any other word to describe what he’s experiencing with you now. You’re about to ask him to keep talking when he finally listens to you and pulls out a little before thrusting back in. 
“Oh.” The simple word riles him up more than he cares to admit, and he sets a slow and sensual pace to calm himself down and give you what you desire. The small room fills with sounds of your harsh breathing and Hunter’s controlled growls, and before you know it, he’s hitting every inch of you in a way that makes you see stars. Then you look at him, and you find his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shut tightly, and you just know that it’s because he wants to do more with you. 
“Hunter,” you call for him, soothing his back with your hands to let him know that you weren’t going anywhere. 
“Hmm?” His eyes flutter open instantly and you wonder if their color was always so intense and dark, or if this was just a product of what the two of you were doing. 
“Don’t h-hold back.” You cup his neck and pray to the maker that he listens to you.
“I already told you cyare, I want you to fall apart for me…nice and slow.” He pronounces each word with a soft push of his hips against you, and you know then that this would definitely not be the last time you sleep with him. It couldn’t be. 
“But I-”
“I want to commit you to memory. The way your heart skips a beat when I kiss your shoulders,” he leans closer against you and leaves a trail of wet kisses across your sternum to your shoulder, biting it playfully when he notices you trying to move along with him. 
“The way you bite your lips when I pinch with your nipples,” you throw your head back in ecstasy as he pinches your nipple and rolls it in between his thumb and his index finger. 
“The way your eyes shut when I sink my teeth into your skin,” Hunter takes one last look at the pleasure etched on your expression before taking the other hardened peak into his mouth, rolling his tongue around your nipple before biting down harshly just below the reddened skin. 
“The way your cunt clenches around my cock when I pull your hair,” you wrap your arms around his back and pull him flush against you when you feel him comb his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck and pull harshly on it, the action letting you know that Hunter was most certainly capable of being rough with you, but was choosing to get your body used to his soft touch first. 
“And- fuck…ah fuck, the way your tight walls invite me in deeper when I play with your clit.” He lets go of your hair and slides his hand down your body, squeezing your hips and scratching along your thighs to leave his mark. As soon as you open your eyes and look at him, he begins to draw small circles around your clit, all the while picking up his pace just a little to get you closer to your climax. 
“I want it all baby,” he begs for you, roaming his eyes across your body to get his fill of you before he brings the two of you to the edge. You’re so sensitive from before, but something about having Hunter pay close attention to you makes you welcome whatever he has to offer you. 
“I- I’m close.” You manage to whisper to him as he continues to play with your body, and you realize the mistake you did in your claim when you hear him laugh and pause in his ministrations. 
“Already?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, but you whine his name and roll your hips around to get any form of friction. Hunter is distracted by the movement, and he resumes his attention to your clit, grunting with need when you reach down and scratch his stomach to urge him on. 
“D-don’t tease.”
“Never…never.” He responds immediately, thrusting into you with shallow pushes, already feeling the knot in his stomach slowly unwind the more he feels your heat pull him in. 
“I can feel your fucking heartbeat, can feel it singing for me the harder I fuck you.” Hunter cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, sitting up and moving the hand on his stomach down to your clit to get you to touch yourself.
“Please Hunter,” as soon as you start teasing your clit, Hunter grabs both of your hips and fucks into you with slow, languid movements, knowing that if he picks up the pace any further, he’d have you screaming so loud that the rest of the batch may actually hear you. 
“What do you want? Tell me.” There is a layer of sweat covering your body and making Hunter lose his mind. Your scent is more pronounced now that it has ever been, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to interact with you normally now that he knew what you smelled like as you prayed for him to fuck you harder. 
“I want you to come with me.” Your request storms into Hunter’s mind, making him wish he could just tell you how he feels, how he’s felt for so long. 
“Kriff,” he throws his head back and looks at the ceiling, knowing that tonight would replay in his mind until you came to him and asked him to take you to bed again. 
“So close…so fucking close. Hunter, please…let me feel you come with me. Come inside me.” You grab one of his wrists in an attempt to remain grounded, and Hunter can’t help but whine at the desperation you were trusting him with. Never in his life did he think he’d have you so unabashedly wanton, but here you were, telling him that you wanted nothing more than to feel him come with you. 
“You’re killing me baby.” Hunter growls and looks down at where you’re joined, not caring for how crazed he must appear to you as his hair swings back and forth, and his face shines with sweat. 
“Oh-hhh f…fuck right there-” you scream into the darkening room, no longer able to hold back the pleasure from seizing you and showering you with a most beautiful distraction. 
“Mesh’la, I-” whatever he’s about to say is cut off by your lips as you pull him into you and mold your lips with his own. It’s a hungry kiss, and Hunter prays to the Force that you’re desperate for him out of necessity and not out of simple, physical attraction. He gives you what you want regardless, slipping his tongue into your mouth and surrendering himself to the pleasure just as your walls flutter around his cock and signal your orgasm. Feeling you tighten even harder around him is almost too much, and he doesn’t realize he’s thrusting so violently into you until you break the kiss and scream his name. He fucks into you without abandon, growling your name over and over again until he lets go and falls over the edge with you. You’re aware of how harshly you’re dragging your nails across his back, and before you can apologize for accidentally sending him into a sensory overload, Hunter is falling against you and sinking his teeth into your shoulders, shooting his cum so deep inside you that you feel the warmth of his seed spread across your body. Neither of you stop moving, wanting the other to reach absolute pleasure before you finally slow down. As you come down from your highs, you wonder if you should ask Hunter what he was going to say right before he came, but you get distracted by the way he begins to slowly move off of you. 
“No wait,” he’s about to move off of you when you throw your arms around his neck and keep him flush against you. You can almost feel his heartbeat sound against your chest, and you’re sure he can hear your own singing for him, but you pay no mind to it, instead focusing on the heat of his skin as it slides against yours. 
“Stay.” You ask once, hoping that he’d listen to you without wondering why you wanted to have him crush you with his weight. 
“Wrap your arms around me tightly.” He says after a while, and as soon as he knows you did as he said, he slips his hands beneath you and holds onto you as he rolls around. The action shifts his cock inside you, and both of you moan out in unison at the shock of oversensitivity that strikes across your spines. He is careful when he moves again, and once he’s comfortable on his back, he slides his hand up your body and grabs your neck. You pull back to look into his eyes, offering him a lazy smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. 
“Does this feel good?”
“I- I liked your weight on me…but yes, this is nice.” You decide not to lie to him, knowing that he may misunderstand your answer if you didn’t give him the whole truth. 
“Noted.” You can hear the smirk in his own voice and snuggle closer into him, not realizing that your playing with his hair until he nuzzles closer into your hands.
“Stay as long as you like, ad’ika.”
You make a mental note of asking him what all of those words mean later, but for now, you surrender to his embrace and the gentle touches he continued to grace you with. Neither of you say anything else as you relish the sweetness of the moment, and before long, you notice that Hunter’s heart was beating much faster than it should. You’ve been sitting without much movement for a long time, so you wonder briefly why his heart was threatening to leap out of his chest. The thought of being the reason behind such a reflex makes you think differently of Hunter, and you hope that your hunch is right or else you’ll end up making a fool out of yourself when you ask him to take you to bed again. 
Just thinking of doing this again with Hunter sends your spiraling and you unintentionally clench around him, but this time, you realize that he’s grown hard again. In fact, you could feel him pulsing inside of you, and you hope he doesn’t sense the shift in your body or else you’d have to explain to him why you were getting wet again. 
“Don’t forget our little agreement sweet girl. I told you I’d know if you were thinking of him.” Hunter breaks the silence suddenly, and you frown at the sentiment, not because it was far from the truth, but because Hunter thought you were thinking of Tech and not him. 
“I didn’t forget.” You pull away and pout at him, wanting him to see that you clearly weren’t lying to him. 
“Then what’s making your heart race so suddenly?” It’s the first time Hunter asks a question that he clearly doesn’t know the answer to, but when you look away from him and draw strange patterns over his chest, he knows instantly what it was you’re thinking about. 
“Interesting…” You roll your eyes at him, unable to hold back from giggling along with him when he cracks a smile and laughs at your obvious irritation. 
“H-Hunter,” you break the moment and gulp nervously when he meets your eyes and gives you his undivided attention. 
“Yes, mesh’la?” If there was ever a moment where Hunter was at his most peaceful, you think it may be this one. 
“Kiss me? Please?” You’re reluctant in your request, unsure of whether he’d draw the line here now that you weren’t actively trying to fuck each other. But as he’s done so many times in the past few hours, he surprises you with an answer that you’d later pinpoint as the first time you truly felt something deeper than attraction for him. 
“Never ask for what’s already yours, cyare.”
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uncouth-the-fifth · 8 months
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click, p.2 - Sam Winchester/Reader
read it on ao3.
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Pairing: Sam Winchester/Reader (late s5) Tags/Warnings: angst, love confessions, romantic sex, oral sex/cunnilingus, (aka, Sam pussy addiction: the shequel), Sam is Lucifer's vessel, reader is AFAB. Word Count: ~11k. Notes: i was commissioned for the second time by the lovely @daffodil-mania, who wanted a continuation of her last fic set during the "say yes" era of s5. (sooooo dangerous to let me put my grubby hands on this version of Sam, btw). i cannot express how BUCK FUCKING WILD uncouth-nation went for the first part of this fic, so this is for all the wonderful people who gushed over click, commented, threw me some kudos, or even just read it and liked it. lots of love, and i hope you enjoy <3 i did my best to rip out your soul as best i could. THIS CAN STAND ON IT'S OWNNN AHHH. i mean. if u wanna read it <3 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!
FIVE YEARS LATER
The walk from the bus stop to your apartment is a safe and easy seven minutes. If you were any other person in any other world, you’d glide onto the bus after your night shift at the university, hop off at your stop, and bumble toward your apartment without a single care in the world. Maybe stare at your phone the whole walk back. Text a hot guy who isn’t the physical manifestation of the devil on earth. Normal stuff.
But this is your life, so you sit front seat on the bus, hands in your lap, tapping a nervous beat against the angel blade hidden in your book bag. The windows rattle in their frames and gleam with rain. You could get off at your stop and take those easy seven minutes home—but the bus driver could also be a demon, so.
Since you aren’t in the mood to die a slow death tonight, walking a few extra blocks to keep anybody from knowing where you live will have to work.
On day two of this, you’d called Dean and asked if you were being extra paranoid. He’d kindly pointed out: Extra-paranoid is just extra-survival. I dunno about you, but survivin’ a lil’ extra sounds fan-fuckin-tastic to me right about now.
He’s right. You know he’s right. But it still doesn’t feel like a good answer, and that makes you picture Sam, twenty-three and still bright-eyed, running his fingers down your bare back and scowling. I’m sick of surviving. One of these days, I want to actually live my life.
But that had been before the apocalypse, before Dean’s deal, before everything. Sam was a different man now. Hunting had reached into all three of you and ripped all sorts of things out, but you would never forgive it for taking Sam’s hope for something better. God, you missed that Sam. You missed him more than anything.
The city bus lumbers up to the curb and spits you out onto the sidewalk, where you superstitiously hover, waiting for the other passengers crawling away from their night shifts to scatter. It’s only when the bus is a dark spot in the mist down the street that you start to walk, your whole body caked head to toe with oily rain. 
This time, you take a random left toward your apartment and serpentine street-to-street, never walking the exact same way the same week. By the time you’re closer to where the bus could’ve actually dropped you off, the lingering smell of old research books has been practically power-washed out of your clothes. You try to think of anything but the freezing, biting, face-stinging rain… and, like a moth to a flame, your mind floats back to Sam.
It’s been over two weeks since he dropped the nuclear option. Over two weeks ago, Sam wanted to say yes to Lucifer, and over two weeks have passed since the massive, unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object fight that’d erupted as a result.
Dean had blown up. Sam had pushed. You’d burst into tears and clawed into Sam just as deep, because why, why would he ever go there—why would that even be a fathomable possibility in his mind? Did he really think so low of himself? How could he ever give up like that? How could he leave you—?
The worst part was easily the way Sam had reacted. With Dean or John, he could yell himself hoarse, but when it came to fighting you all he could do was sit and take it. He put his head down and nodded at everything you said, even the cruel things. In some ways it made you angrier, but also inconceivably, cosmically guilty. This was Sam’s choice. And of course, because this was Sam, his choice was to save the whole goddamn world. Not a single bone in your body carried that level of selflessness, yet Sam bled the stuff.
You were still furious with him, but only because being mad at him was the only option you had left. The right thing to do would be to tell Sam, I trust you to make this decision, this is your life, and let him take that jump… But you didn’t have it in you. Saying that felt like pushing him over the ledge yourself, or telling him you’d never cared about him in the first place. If you were angry at least you were still fighting for him in some way.
You’d been on board for everything—trying to find a way out of Dean’s deal, trying to kill Lilith, everything. But the argument with Sam had torn out the final piece of you that could stand this, so you packed a bag, told Dean you’d be in a strict research-only role, and booked it back to your hometown. It was cowardly and stupid and beyond selfish, but you knew your stance. The hunt had taken everything from you. You refused to let it take Sam, too.
Maybe, Sam would take you stepping away as a serious sign to change his mind. You couldn’t imagine a world where Sam and his Winchester stubbornness would ever do that, but. It was a nice wish to hold onto.
By the time you make it up the steps to your apartment building, you’re soaked to the bone and audibly making pathetic shivering sounds. Your bookbag feels heavier than ever, digging a trench into your shoulder as you fish around for your keys. The second your apartment door is open the true weight of your exhaustion hits you—
—and then utterly disappears, replaced by a shock of pure adrenaline.
There’s a new pair of boots by your front door.
You catch the heavy door before it goes swinging against the doorjamb, straining your ears against the ringing silence. The bedside lamp is on in your room.
On dead-quiet feet, you slip in, click the door shut behind you, and slip off your bookbag. Your angel blade is in your hand in a second, but you risk a few extra steps toward your kitchen table to wiggle loose the pistol you taped underneath. Just the weight of your weapons in your hands flicks the hunter muscle memory back on in your body, and before you can think you’re hiding in the shadow beside your bedroom door. Listening.
Soft breathing. The pages of a book turning.
You know, instinctively, who it is—you would know him dumb and blind and dead. But these days, anybody could be piloting his body around.
You suck in a deep breath through your nose, heart throbbing in your ears. You wait until the fingers on your gun aren’t shaking anymore, then burst inside the room, slamming the door into the wall and whipping your pistol up to eye level.
Sam’s head flinches towards you. He is exactly as you saw him two weeks ago; solemn, determined, and open, the air around him practically steaming with safety and goodness. He’s sat comfortably on your bed, reading a book he brought with him. Despite everything, your belly still curls with butterflies when you lay eyes on him. Sam. Definitely Sam, and no one else.
Still, your paranoia has gotten you this far. You both stare at each other for a beat, equal parts scared out of your minds and relieved. Without a word, you keep your gun trained on him, and Sam lets you, his eyes big and understanding. You shuffle sideways to your dresser, and without turning away from him, pop open the top drawer and toss him the silver flask of holy water you keep hidden inside. 
He catches it. So, not a shapeshifter, then. Sam takes a drink of the holy water, even turning to the side so you can see the water go into his mouth. (A demon in Missouri had slipped past the three of you by pretending to sip—only Sam would know that.) You’re still a little terrified, but you manage to pull your weapons back down to your sides. You still don’t know what to say.
He’s really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. He’s here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize he’d scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and he’d hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things.
You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. “Did you… do my dishes?”
Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. He’s looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. “…Yeah. I used the key you gave me to get in… Hope that’s okay.”
There’s another long pause. Usually when you stare at Sam, he doesn’t stare so intensely back, but you share a weird mutual moment where you just stand there and take each other in. It’s so obvious it’s painful, but if he’s doing it then you feel entitled to devour him with your eyes too.
“I got, uh, bored. Waiting for you,” Sam clarifies. “Thought I’d make myself useful.”
Sam stands from the bed. For a second you think he’s heading straight for you, but he moves toward the dresser behind you, kindly tucking the holy water back where it was stowed. You flit out of his way as fast as you can and set your weapons down on the closest available surface, feeling off-kilter. Why would he come here? Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind?
You hold onto the question, but you know it’s too out of character to hope for. Despair sinks into your gut like a rock in a pond. You know why Sam’s here. He would never make this decision without telling you first—without at least saying goodbye in person.
Your throat locks up with tears.
Behind you, Sam hums, “You changed your hair.”
Right. You’d altered it to be more undercover. You resist the urge to reach up and play with your hair, or give in to any of the fluttery feelings you always feel around Sam. “It’s safer.” Tightly, you ask him, “What are you doing here?”
Sam drags a long breath through his nose. You clutch the end of your bookshelf, your chest crumpling with misery. Please don’t say it. Please, please, lie to me if you have to.
“...I’m not taking the jump,” Sam breathes.
There’s more that he says after that. He talks about how you and Dean are right, and how, surely, after everything that the three of you have been through, there’s got to be another way to end this. You’ve always found another way in the past. Sam explains all this to you in a sure, quiet voice, like this is something he’s thought about for a long time, but you barely hear him after those first words. There’s this persistent tension in your chest that’s telling you that there’s something wrong here, but you don’t care—you don’t give a single fucking shit, because Sam—Sam isn’t saying yes. Sam’s staying.
“…are other ways I can make up for the mistakes I made,” he’s telling you, scrambling to fill the nagging silence.
You take a moment to force back your tears, and Sam, nervously, keeps talking.
He swallows, trying to smile. “I-I would’ve called and told you, but something tells me you wouldn’t have picked up.”
When you’ve got your bearings back, you push away from your bookshelf and turn to face him. Your legs are so leaden that you feel as if you have to physically pick up your body and drop it down the other direction, but you manage it. “What… what made you change your mind?”
Sam gets one look at your face and wilts with guilt. He doesn’t answer your question in words—just shoves his hands in his pockets and stares down at his feet, then around your room, as if his reason was in the air with the two of you. In the apartment. His eyes flicker over you just once, and you understand. Seeing you leave really had scared him.
“Be careful,” you start to joke with him, “you start validating my childish reactions and we’re gonna have a whole new set of problems on our hands.”
Sam scoffs. “It wasn’t childish to run away.”
You raise an eyebrow at his word choice, which gets an honest-to-god laugh out of him. A real good Sam Winchester laugh, dimples and all. The last dregs of anxiety in your gut melt at the sound, and Sam reassures you, shrugging, “You needed to get out. In case you forgot, I kind of invented wanting to get out. I understand. I really do.”
You know that he does. That’s not exactly going to stop you from feeling guilty about ditching them, but at least it kicked some sense into him. God. For the last five or six years, your every moment had been spent with Sam and his brother. Even just a couple weeks without him had drained you, and having him back only makes those feelings more clear. Sam’s presence commands the space in a way that turns your shitty, undecorated bedroom into someplace magical, someplace good and safe and warm, and just seeing him standing there draws the ache out of your spine.
Your reach out for his sleeve. Somehow, he’s more real than ever, a tangible person instead of the memory you’ve chased for so long.
“You’re really not saying yes?”
Sam unwinds your hand from the fabric so he can hold it instead, your fingers scooped in his fingers. You’re given a firm squeeze and are hypnotized by him in an instant, the world narrowing down to this moment between just him and just you.
Sam looks into your eyes when he promises, “I’m not going anywhere.”
The tears you’d resisted before return in one big, merciless wave. You’re so tired and the rain was so fucking cold and you’re so sick of being scared that Sam, thank god, Sam, is everything you could possibly need. He’s not going anywhere. Before you can stop yourself you’re clutching him for dear life, shoving your face in his shirt and crushing his body against yours. These last few weeks have submerged you in survival mode, and you don’t realize how deep until Sam pulls you out of the current. He’s warm and dry, and when you inhale to sob he smells like a 24-hour-laundromat, the Impala, and home home home. You could’ve lost that. You could’ve lost him.
“Th-thank you,” you choke out at nothing in particular, “thank you.”
You’ve cried a lot this week, so there are not many tears left to shed. Still, Sam holds you through all of them, swaying back and forth with you and cooing in your ear. You hear him sniffling too. When you’re both all sobbed out, you pull back to tell him you love him, to remind him of all the things he needs to hear, but Sam strangely doesn’t let you. The second he feels you pull away he clutches you back against him, and you get the uneasy impression that you’ve been comforting him more than he’s been comforting you. His whole body’s shaking.
Sam hugs you for longer than he ever has before. It’s a little worrying, but you’ve both needed it so much that you don’t even complain.
After a while, Sam slips back, and in traditional Winchester fashion tries to play off his vulnerability. He’s always been a dead-silent crier, so you have zero way to gauge how bad things are until you see his face. He looks like he’d sobbed his heart out. Your shirt is still wet from the rain, but even then you can feel Sam’s tears soaking your shoulder. Saying anything about it will just embarrass him, though.
“...I-I, uh,” you lick the tears off your lips, mumbling, “I don’t know bout’ you, but I’m beat. Do you have somewhere you gotta be, or,” you add hopefully, “or can you stick around?”
This is the part where Sam will start coaxing you to drive back with him to where he and Dean are holed up, you’re sure of it. You’re already plotting in your head what to pack and what to take, but Sam never brings it up. He doesn’t worry about tomorrow yet.
He presses his lips together. “I was hoping I could stay here tonight, actually.”
This is an even better answer. You’re nodding before he’s even finished the thought, stroking your hand down his chest. It twists your gut in knots to see him like this, so you start to steer the conversation toward something more playful, something less daunting to think about.
“You’re lucky I like you then,” you smirk. Somehow, you manage to peel yourself out of his bubble and teeter toward your dresser, scrubbing the tears off your face. “Make yourself comfortable. I dunno about you, but I’m getting the fuck out of these work clothes, I’m freezing. Do you need anything to sleep in? I’ve got at least five years of your stolen shirts in here.”
You hear him ease himself down on the end of your bed again, but there’s no sassy retort, sly comment, or any sort of line about you and your stealing habits. Instead, sweet and simple, he says, “I’ll just sleep in this. You can have them.”
Okay. Weird.
Since he didn’t take the bait, you throw out another line and try again. This time, you kick off your shoes, open a drawer, and turn back to him with two of his shirts in hand. “Really?” You wave them teasingly in the air. “You sure?”
They are some of his best shirts, easy. You’re not a cheap thief. The first is a holey, feather-soft Red Hot Chili Peppers tee, and the second is a deep maroon Stanford sweater. He has so few artifacts from that time in his life that there’s no way he won’t want this one back. Right?
But Sam just gazes at you, his whole face soft and loving as he says, “You should wear the Stanford one. It looks good on you.”
Those old hot-shivery feelings for him seep down your spine, and you feel in real-time how your cheeks flood with heat. Damn, okay. Consider yourself wooed.
You’ve been down this road with Sam many, many times—enough to know when he’s flirting with you. The forbidden labels had never been thrown around, but. Well. Sam had been your first time, as well as the many other times after that.
He’s usually leagues more subtle than his brother, but for whatever reason he’s pouring it on by the truckload tonight. When you turn around he’s nothing but big, happy puppy eyes, waiting patiently for you at the end of the bed. (Like you’re his girlfriend. Like anything about this is normal at all, and you and Sam are going to tuck into bed together like it’s any other night). Fuck, you missed him.
The bathroom is only a few steps away, but this is Sam, so you decide to just throw on your pajamas right here. Your shirt is so wet that it hits the floor with a slap. It also takes some experience to wring yourself out of your denim-turned-cement jeans, so it’s not the sexiest show in the entire world. Still, Sam’s gaze traces sensual lines down your back. You would rather go to literal, actual hell than wear your bra for a minute longer, so the second you’re free of its death grip, a long happy sigh drains out of you. A similar dreamy sigh drains out of Sam. Dork.
“I will never get tired of that,” Sam murmurs. You expect to hear some kind of hunger there, but the timber of his voice bleeds with admiration and fondness.
There are very few ways to be a normal human being while Sam Winchester adores your nude body with his eyes. The best you can do is burst into flustered, giggly laughter and give him a good eyeroll, your entire face cooking like a stove burner.
“Alright, loverboy,” you scoff, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and take my makeup off—”
“Can I help?” Sam asks.
You sputter out another laugh, confused. “You wanna brush my teeth for me?”
“No,” Sam shakes his head, smiling big, “Lemme take your makeup off for you.”
Okay. Weirder. But it’s sweet, and you like this side of him, so you decide to indulge his mood. “...Sure.”
You go about your night-time routine. Sam continues to be a weirdo, trailing you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, and blinking slow endearing blinks at you as he… watches you brush your teeth. Just. Stands there, watching, utterly enamored with this little moment of domesticity with you. On the surface level you’re a little thrown off, but it falls under the category of Freaky Sam Things that made you catch feelings for him in the first place, so. You grin into your toothbrush the whole time.
When he’s satisfied by his little ogling fest, he drifts off to hunt around for your makeup wipes. Either you’re predictable or he knows you too well, because he finds them within seconds, and patiently sits back as you finish up your routine, watching you like you’ll disappear on him the moment he turns away. Click click, you feel inside you.
“Okay,” he says when you’re done. “Close your eyes.”
You do. You wait for the cool touch of the wipe on your face, but instead, Sam’s big, rough fingers find your chin and hold you still. It takes conscience effort to not melt into his touch like a cat in a square of sunlight. Your willpower is nothing on Sam’s, though, so you give in quickly, sinking into his hand and sighing through your nose. In gentle swipes, he cleans your face. It must be a nightmare of smeared mascara considering how you’d cried earlier… And yet Sam had still been so transfixed by you. He’s the fucking best.
Sam’s hand tilts your head from side to side to survey his handiwork. Pleased, he tosses the wipe in the trash and says, “There you go.”
You open your eyes and go to double-check his work in the mirror, but Sam hasn’t removed his hand from your chin, and you really, really don’t want him to. His thick thumb comes up and caresses under your lips. He looks at you like he loves you, and with all the honesty in the world, he utters, “...You are so pretty.”
…The only way for you to survive this is by throwing him a dry look. “You’re full of shit. What’s your game, Winchester?”
That earns you another authentic Sam laugh, along with a handsome boyish smile. “There’s no game. What are you talking about?”
You squint at him. Liar.
“This.” You gestured between the two of you, suspicious. “You’re mooning over me. Why are you mooning? Are you planning something?”
A ripple of discomfort rolls across Sam’s face, but it passes too fast for you to read. His hands go right back in his pockets and he leans into the doorframe again. “I’m just… happy we’re not fighting,” he confesses.
Oh. That makes sense. Sam hasn’t exactly made up with you like that before, but. These times change everyone. You ease up on your teasing and admit, “Me too.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you away,” Sam says, and far, far too seriously for your liking, he whispers, “I’m sorry for everything.”
Your answer slips right out of your mouth without hesitation. “I forgive you, stupid,” your brows furrow together. “And I’m sorry, too. I said some pretty shitty stuff back there.”
Sam wilts against the doorframe a little. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.”
A dull pulse of anger flares in your chest, which flickers out and dies not a second later. There’s so much you want to say to that.
It is so fucking unfair—biblically, cosmically unfair—that Sam, the good guy to end all good guys, thinks of himself this way. He is the kind of righteous they make saints out of. And yet he sits in your silly little bathroom in your shitty little apartment and gives you that look, the look that says, I deserve this and so much more. I deserve to rot in hell for all eternity. He gave you that exact look when he brought up saying yes. He gives it to you now, because Sam sees everything as a sin to serve penance for—freeing Lucifer from the cage and making you a little worried. He thinks he’s so evil, so beyond saving. It makes you want to get your fists in your shirt and just shake him. 
You’re good! You want to scream. Just for once in your life, listen to me! None of this is your fault!
There’s nothing you could say to him that would ever make him let go of his guilt. But, at the very least, you could help him forget about it for a while.
“You beat yourself up too much,” you scold. Then, softer, you add, “C’mere, Sammy.”
Sam does as told, planting himself right in front of you. God, he’s changed. You look him over with a bittersweet smile. He used to be so spindly. The last few years have filled him out, forcing his body into something ready for war. The hunt reached in and tore all sorts of things out of people, but you’d been wrong about what it’d ripped out of Sam. His optimism was still there, warm and humming in the tissue of his body, and just seeing it fills you with hope. He looks so different from the man you’d had all to yourself in that cabin, but you can feel that he’s still in there. He’s still your Sam.
You take his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs into his dimples and quietly, needily rasping, “...Can I take care of you?”
Sam’s whole body shudders with relief. “Please, yes.”
The next few beats of this dance haven’t changed. Like always, Sam comes flying in with a big, smashing kiss that shatters any leftover barriers between you. You’re not Sam’s girlfriend and he’s not your boyfriend, but Sam makes you his with this kiss. (If only for a little while). Your noses mash together and his eyes squeeze shut and then everything is just Sam, Sam, Sam at every angle. His hands are at his sides then suddenly they’re all over you, taking two greedy handfuls of your waist under the Stanford sweater. He jams your hips against his and kisses you senseless, towering over you, surrounding you, so that when you pull back to gasp for breath your lungs are flooded with his familiar heady love potion.
Either he’s giving off some Poison Ivy-level pheromones, or your body is so familiar with these steps that it knows what comes after this kiss… because you’re instantly wet.
You realized a long time ago that you and Sam have sex a bit too often for it to be considered “casual,” but even if it was, Sam is not a casual kind of lay. After that first soul-stealing kiss, Sam stares you down like a four-course meal, spins you around, pushes you down chest-first onto the bathroom counter, drops to his knees—
—and shoves his face between your legs like it’s his goddamn job.
In the middle of all your surprised shrieking and squirming, Sam nuzzles his face into your panties and moans deep and bassy in his throat, “Yes.”
Like he’s won something. Like he’s been waiting weeks to do this. Holy fuck, you’ll never get tired of that.
The second you have even an atom of your reason back, you slap a hand over your mouth. Neighbors! Sam has already forgotten what neighbors are, and is holy-mission-from-god-determined to make you noisy. He’s extra hungry for it tonight, too. You squeak out his name, not so much in shock, but more because having those huge hands squeezing where your ass starts to round out tends to produce a reaction, and Sam rumbles like a lawnmower in approval. Holy fuck.
He doesn’t have to ask you to spread your legs. One of the hands appreciating your ass slides between your thighs, cupping you through your underwear, and you have to try not to squeal when the meaty pad of Sam’s thumb swipes across your clothed folds. He presses a big kiss in that exact spot as he drags your panties down your legs, and it’s a weirdly sweet gesture that makes your heart and your belly flutter with shivery heat. Fuck. Fuck, you missed him so much.
The first few times Sam had sprung this move on you, you hadn’t exactly had enough time to fully rev up. But Sam is deadly efficient in and out of the bedroom, so he makes a point to get you extra wet (for him) with his spit, laving his hot, slippery tongue over you in one long swipe. He eats you out with all the obscene, noisy enjoyment of somebody gorging on the juiciest fruit they’ve ever tasted. Even you are scandalized.
It becomes embarrassingly clear that covering your mouth isn’t going to keep Sam from what he wants. The high, desperate moan you try to stifle only makes him work harder. You press an arm flat to the counter and bury your face in it for strength, since you’re weak and whimpering for him already. 
Sam was good in bed when you met him. But, by nature, he is a relentless and avid learner, and it’s been five whole years since he put his mouth on you for the first time. Now, Sam is a certified pussy-eating weapon. He knows your body better than anyone possibly could. You’re over the edge in a minute flat.
Your climax flies through you in one whizzing, sparking rush, then keeps flying, until your body’s squeezing out little squeaky pleas for mercy of its own accord. This is his favorite part. You claw into the countertop and wail for it, pushing at the floor in your socks to gain any sort of leverage. To press closer? To squirm away? You have zero fucking clue, since the thought part of your brain has been blasted into a smoking crater. Sam wraps a big arm around your spasming thigh to pin you open, and holy fucking shit, could that man suck the chrome off a tailpipe. His mouth is a whirlwind of licking and suction just on the right side of oh fuck too much that makes your skin feel like it’s fizzing. You are a thread that he’s just pulling and pulling until you’re so thin you could snap into nothing—
You wait for the moment when Sam pops off you, stands up, and goes for his zipper, but he never does. He remains on the floor, determined to lick you through overstimulation and straight into round two. But that’s a whole minute you could spend with his dick inside you instead, and there’s no fucking way you’re wasting that. Not when he’s here and real and not going to say yes. Sam’s not going anywhere. He’s staying, he’s alive, and the world isn’t going to end tomorrow.
“No no no,” you bite out in one short, rattling breath. “S-Suh—Sam, please please—” An unexpected sob shreds out of you. “Miss you. Need you.”
You’re actually, genuinely crying, and not entirely in the fun sexed-out way. Sam backs up. He’s not even halfway standing when you wrench him up the rest of the way, straight into a desperate, maddening kiss. It’s a brutal cross of teeth and tongue. The need for body heat and skin and him burns through you like genuine bloodlust, so you cram yourself up against him with life-or-death urgency. You get your nails into him until you feel something like shirt fabric and viciously yank it over his head, waiting for the moment when he grabs your wrists or shoves you onto the bed o-or—or starts to blow off steam. Cause’ that’s what this is all about, right?
He drags your mouths apart. Sam pants, “Slow down.”
You stop.
This is. This is new.
There’s no slowing, with this. You both go and you keep going until there’s no more fuel in your tanks, and you crawl out of bed the next day feeling like you’ve beaten the rot out of each other. You’ve never once slowed down during this before, and as your wheels spin to a halt for the first time, reality filters back in around you.
Sam stares at you. His hair is all over the place. A patchy blush speckles up his heaving chest, burning in his ears and in his cheeks. Your slick shines on his lips and the bulb of his nose. He’s just standing there and fucking looking at you, but for whatever reason it feels like the color has seeped back into the world.
“S’okay. Gonna be okay,” Sam hushes, bleeding with sweetness.
He picks up your hands, moving you as if you were a delicate glass he was turning over in each palm. Each of your hands are kissed in the center (oh my fucking god) then wrapped around his neck, and when he has you in his bubble he scoops up your face and kisses you.
It’s a boyfriend kiss. Not a blowing off steam thing, or any other excuse the two of you have used to feel each other. A genuine, I’m your boyfriend and I love you sort of kiss, foreheads pressed together, noses touching, the whole nine yards. It’s the kind of kiss that’s meant to say something. Every inch of what he’s trying to tell you echoes through your body in one ringing smash, like you’re a big cymbal he’s taken a mallet to. 
He slips off your lips and hovers, bracing himself for impact. You suck in a rattling breath.
…Then you press up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss of your own, just pressing your lips against his, unmoving. It’s undemanding; an answer. You try to find the words to describe the shift that’s occurred between you, and end up feeling stuttery and shivery and fucking elated. Romantic. It’s fucking romantic.
“Sammy,” you sob out.
“Shhh. C’mere,” Sam whispers, his voice throaty and whiskey smooth. “Lemme make it better.”
He tries to walk you straight back out of the bathroom and towards the bed, he really does, but you stop Sam every other step to overwhelm him with obsessed, affectionate kisses. God. His chapstick is all over your fucking mouth (along with your slick) and his hands are everywhere else, feeling instead of grabbing.
“You always do,” you breathe, and that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said to him in bed.
Sam gets this quiet, pleased smile on his face. No matter how naked and turned-on you are, you’ve always got a snappy reply ready, and you’re about to throw one at him—until you’re fucking obliterated. He smoothes his palms down your arms. Your wrists are scooped up again. With all the tenderness on the planet, Sam slides in close, kisses your throat, and places both of your hands firmly on his belt.
“Take it off,” he rasps.
This. This isn’t the first time he’s given you that order. But knowing, feeling that he’s playing this all out like it’s more than a fling to him… that Sam’s gonna fuck you like you’re someone special to him… sweet jesus, it makes you lightheaded.
“Bossy,” your murmur, grinning.
You’re downright feverish going in to kiss him next. Sam parts your lips with a slow, sinful swipe of his tongue, and there must be a drop of psychic still in him, because suddenly you’re flooded with visions of that filthy mouth between your legs. You can still feel the ghost of him there, keeping you open with his thumbs as the blunt tip of his tongue pushes you somewhere vast and sparkly and wonderful. This is going to be even better.
He sounds like he’s praying when he says, “I just like to watch you.”
Muscle memory serves. You work his clasp open without peeking down and let it hang in his belt loops, mostly because it lets his jeans sling low on his hips in the most enticing way. His belly twitches at even the slightest touch of your hands; always so responsive. Sam drops his forehead on your shoulder to watch you work, and you take the rare opportunity to kiss the top of his head. This is one of your favorite parts. When his button is undone and his zipper’s down, you’re free to smooth your hand under his waistband and take a big handful of him.
You reach in and—squeeze. Sam’s hand snaps up to clutch your arm. His nails dig in, and he rocks forward onto his tiptoes to really dig into your touch. “Yes.”
It’s the kind of soft, needy sound that makes you want to smother him with kisses and hug him until he suffocates. Instead, you cooly purr into his hair, “So sensitive, Sammy.”
A hoarse, sharp laugh snaps out of him, which dissolves into a shuddering groan. You tug at his jeans until they’re somewhere you don’t care about anymore, and forget about everything else entirely at the sight of his cock. All these years of sneaking around with him have conditioned you. Just seeing the pretty speckling of dark hair that leads to it, then the real deal, hanging blood-hot and heavy between his legs, makes your tummy flip and your mouth water. One of a million embarrassing Sam-reactions you’ll have to bring to your grave.
You take his cock in your hand, trying to swallow back the slutty amount of saliva in your mouth. Sam whimpers. A real, desperate sound, with his nails stinging down your arms and everything.
“Know you wanted to slow down,” you struggle between open-mouthed pants, “b-but—can’t—don’t wanna wait—”
Sam physically curls towards you, his hips seizing into your hand and his arms hooking around your shoulders. You’re dragged in for a sloppy kiss so deep you swear it melds your souls together. Sam is just as affected, rumbling like a racecar in approval.
“Then don’t.” He begs.
If this was any other night, Sam would just take. You’d be face down and drilled halfway through the mattress by now, no preamble, all business. He got off and you got off and everyone was happy that way. Sam would want the room dark and you would hide your face in the bedding, the two of you eager to touch and experience but terrified of breaking the illusion. He’s so generous that you suppose he’s got to have at least one place in life where he’s selfish, and you’re happy to be his outlet for it, but.
You’ve never seen him take this way before.
He looks at you and he never really stops, transfixed. You don’t doubt you could walk in a circle around him and Sam’s eyes would follow you the whole way, his gaze oozing with longing and something else—resolution? Faith? You push him onto the bed, and he drops down as if hobbling into a pew for the first time, unsure how to clasp his hands in prayer because it’s only ever been something done in his head before.
You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do next.
“God,” Sam utters, spellbound. 
You’re blushing so hard that you forget to be sexy as you crawl into his lap, but Sam doesn’t care, still giving you those big slow doe blinks to express his love. It’s so different from the Sam you know (yet also so deeply, deeply him) that you forget what it means to be sexy entirely. He coaxes you closer to plant tender kisses under your chin, and the plan to seductively peel off your sweater for him and flash him your tits blips out of existence.
You wait for the moment when Sam shreds the Stanford sweater off you. Instead, those wonderful fucking hands tease under the hem to squeeze your waist, and Sam croaks out between kisses, “Should wear this all the time. You’re beautiful in anything, but this… you’re… mmn.”
Your heart gives a pathetic flutter. You press mindless kisses against his mouth and rock your bare core down on his lap, because he’s never acted this way before and you don’t know how else to return the favor. “Not nearly as beautiful as you, Sammy.”
The only reaction you get from him is a single huff out of his nose, like it’s something he can’t commit a whole laugh to. Like none of that matters anymore, like it would never matter for Sam, because his body may be beautiful, but it hardly belongs to him anymore. God, you’re shitty at compliments.
You’re fucking wonderful, you suddenly want to tell him. A whole swarm of little truths and sweet nothings roars straight up to the surface of your mind, a whole sea of better things you could say to him, but then one of those perfect hands is slipping between your legs and Sam’s asking you in that perfect, tinted glass voice, “You still on the pill?”
“Yes, doctor,” you tease.
Another flood of sticky heat rushes between your legs, because that question is always a precursor to being pressed into and filled and stuffed end-to-end by Sam’s dick. The one barrier that doesn’t—didn’t exist between you.
“Good,” Sam sighs, relieved, grateful. He never turned down going raw in the past, but he’s downright starved for it right now. Closer closer closer, his whole body begs.
You’re tugged in by a big hand hooked around your back, and you fall right into Sam’s summer-warm, sweat-sticky chest, giggling. He loops both arms around your middle and teddy-bear squeezes even more laughter out of you. The only way to hold yourself up is by planting two hands on his shoulders… which turns into his cupping his neck… then caressing his face, because it’s impossible to be witness to that quiet boyish grin and not shower him in affection. There’s all these little freckles on him that you can only see up close. He feels good, mystical good, prophetic-chosen-one type good.
This is the moment. You can feel the blood in your body pounding between your legs, and Sam’s cock bumps not-so-innocently against your core as you kiss one another. Every shift of his hands sends your muscles clenching tight, bracing for impact, but Sam doesn’t push into you just yet.
Your confusion must be clear on your face, because he says, “Just let me feel you for a second.”
And, obviously, you’re not an idiot, so you let Sam feel you for as long as he pleases. For the next ten uninterrupted minutes, you makeout like lovesick teenagers, whimpering and sighing and swallowing every sound the other makes. You’d always pegged him as a romantic. But seeing it, feeling it, adds a whole new dimension to him you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.
By the time the pool of need in your gut has opened up into a blackhole, Sam has caressed or squeezed or kissed every part of you ten times over. He continues to be weird and obsessed with you. (So still in character, then). Sam even pinches the ends of your ears and smooths his thumbs over the bumps of your ankles, being sexy about it but also a little terrifying. He touches you like he’s never gonna see you again.
Around the time that Sam starts suckling marks into your neck and trying to tickle you under your arms, you giggle out, “O-Okay—okay! Enough—!”
“Enough what?” Sam cocks his head. His hand makes another dive for your belly, making you shriek and squirm with more giggles. You try to wriggle away to protect your tickling sides, but Sam’s too strong and you’re a little in love with him, so it’s easy for him to pull you flush against him and blow tingly-warm breaths beside your ear. He purrs, “You need it that badly?”
“Fucking yes! So quit torturing me,” you pant, and you’re pretty sure this grin is going to get stuck on your face.
Sam’s smile gets even bigger. “Only if you say please.”
Your attitude slips from your grip like water. Next time, you’ll play push and pull with him, but right now there needs to be a lot more pushing and pulling in a different context.
The words are out of your mouth in an instant. “Please, Sam.”
As reluctant as he is to stop teasing you, Sam’s a little in love, too. He leans back enough to fist his cock in one hand, and you can’t help how your breath hitches when Sam’s touch follows the curve of your ass to where you’re soaked and sensitive for him. Those thick, maddening fingers spread you open. The velvety tip of his cock finds your hole right away, and your legs nearly give out when Sam starts to swipe himself up and down your folds one dizzying stroke at a time. Back…. and forth. Up… and down. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Okay, fine…” He concedes, his eyes glittering with joy. “You’re just so cute when you act all tough.”
Maybe not all of your attitude is gone. You bark out a laugh, telling him, “I hate you.”
Sam presses down for the last time, then presses in. You don’t mean to look into his eyes when he fills you up, and that’s probably what does you in. Sam’s rosy face flutters and twists with pleasure, but he never stops looking at you, not even once, terrified to miss even a small moment. The long hitching moan that slips out of you makes his whole face darken with desire. You’re pulled onto him deeper and deeper and deeper until—click. Cue the angel choir.
Your fingers dig desperately into his hair. Sam curls into you in one slow pulling movement, a thread pulled taut, until his face is stuffed in your neck and his hands are mindlessly scrabbling down your back.
“God, I love you,” he moans.
Soon your pussy feels achy and hair-trigger-sensitive and beyond full, which could mean that you’re all the way on him. It’s impossible to tell, since the first full minute of having Sam’s dick inside you sends you straight to the moon every time, where everything falls in peaceful slow-motion and the whole world hums with cosmic, sparkling pressure. You shove your face into him and nuzzle in a daze, little ripples of electricity sparking up your spine.
…Wait.
“What?” You register, slow.
Sam is still clutching you for dear life, even if the moment’s slowed and you’re both comfortable. He hugs you full-bodied, nose in your neck, tilted forward, the kind of hug where he sways you side to side with joy. Sam sucks in a harsh breath. Can’t hold back anymore.
“I love you,” he gushes. The words burn out of him, declarative, overjoyed.
There’s so much you want to say to that. But then Sam digs his fingers into your ass and pulls you off his lap, only to gloriously sink you down the rest of the way, and. Fuck fuck fuck. His cock drags thick and hot against the pliant walls of your pussy. You couldn’t be any more full if you tried, clamping down on him with long, silky ripples of pressure that outline the shape of him inside you in obscene detail. It’s the kind of mind-blowing that’s beyond comprehension, beyond feeble human understanding. Your eyes squeeze shut and you whimper into his hair.
“God, I love you,” he chants again through grit teeth. “So much. So fucking much.”
You find his face with your hands and kiss him quiet, tasting the promise in his mouth. When you part and the two of you really start to move, you kiss him again, and again, whispering where only he can hear, “I-I love you too.”
It should scare you how easily the confession slips out. You should be terrified, because even if you live to see next week, or next month, or next year, even if Sam isn’t saying yes to Lucifer, those words are a death sentence. And yet.
“I-I miss you,” you choke out, “I need you.”
“Me too. So much,” Sam soothes, his voice tight and sharp with restraint. You know his instinct is to jackhammer up into you and never stop, but he puts in effort to resist, letting you both marinate in the wonderful, glistening, twitchy feeling of each other. His hands are rubbing your back and he is so fucking warm, turning the rain outside to steam.
He doesn’t bounce you on his dick. It’s more of a slow, cresting drag, waves stroking a beach. You don’t think you could handle much more than that, anyway—sometimes these positions make him feel big enough to pop you like a balloon. What you can’t fit on your own, your weight pushes you down onto anyway, turning your whole body into a big expanding bubble of pressure ready to burst at any moment. You clutch at his shoulders and just throb around him for a second.
“Nuh-uh,” Sam leans away, not letting you shove your face in him like you want. Instead, a big hand cups one side of your neck and keeps you in front of him. “Wanna see your face. Look at me. Look at me,” he insists, genuinely pleading.
When your eyes find his, that’s when he decides to snap up into you for real. You don’t even get a full look at him. The arm slung around your waist drags you up off your wobbling knees, then slams you down into a beautiful, endless white space popping with color.
“Sammy!” You choke.
That’s the magic word. You’re instantly thrust up into four more lightning-fast times, one-two-three-four, and hitch out four squeaky gasps to match. Sam’s eyes bore into yours with every beat, blazing with liquid love. For a second you wonder if you’ve fallen back into your rough routine again. But then words and thoughts melt out of your brain altogether, because Sam draws you into the tenderest, sweetest kiss human beings are capable of, fucking into you deep and smooth with that deeper, smoother voice, “Keep saying that.”
Sammy Sammy Sammy, you rattle out under your breath. Sam hisses out your name the exact same way.
You do your best to help him out a little, bobbing up and down in his lap, but’s a drop of water in the ocean for him. All Sam cares about is seeing your reaction. He soaks up everything you do like a sponge, moaning when you moan, gritting his teeth when you bite your lip, grinding up as you stir down. The weight of his eyes on you is so heavy that your skin stings in its wake. Again, it’s Sam’s brand of freak-sweetness that makes you get stupid notions in your head about wedding rings and anniversary presents. But that’s—
…something he knows about. Something he just said to you five minutes ago. Above the haze of bouncing, rhythmic pleasure, you’re flooded with relief. You can tell him! Holy fuck, you can tell him!
“I love you,” you gasp out again, and just saying it feels like it could save the world. “O-oh, god, Sam—”
The breath you have left is stolen from you by another fierce kiss from him, so passionate it lets you taste the bassy, happy hum that rumbles in Sam’s throat. You’re devoured by feverish kisses for a full minute, then Sam pops off you to sob, “So much—so fucking much, yes.”
He slips a hand between the two of you to thumb your clit, stirring in and never once stopping. Every so often he’ll brush up against where you’re hot and filled to the hilt with him, your bodies sliding together with slick, filthy noises that are so—so fucking much that your thighs cramp up, protesting the constant pistoning. But the pleasure is easily worth the burn. Your core booms with long echoes of pleasure that shudder through the trembling spiderwebs that make up your nerves. You make a move to lean back on your hands and switch up the angle, (since you’re a damn good cowgirl, thank you very much), but Sam refuses to stop kissing you. He physically pulls you back in with a hand fished around your neck and kisses you breathless, determined to pound you to your climax one thorough snap of his hips at a time.
“So beautiful,” Sam gushes. His voice is hoarse and thready, like he’s moments away from bursting into tears of pure desire.
You smooth your hands down his flushed cheeks, telling him between huffy moans, “It’s okay, s’ okay, Sammy… so pretty… love you so much…”
You feel him pull the Stanford sweater up over your ass and out of his way, exposing more, more, more of your bare skin for him to touch. Sam palms the slope of your back and your belly in a daze, but that’s still not enough—he’ll never be satisfied with how little of you he’s had. He wants more. He wants forever. You embrace each other to the fullest, cheeks smushed together, chests flush, his parted lips claiming your throat, making you his—but. Sam’s breath ratchets up. Not enough not enough not enough—
In one ragged motion, Sam rolls you both over, tossing you back-first onto the bedding and smothering you with his weight.
A squeal of delight jumps out of you. “Hey!”
If Sam wasn’t all over you before, then he literally is now, dropping onto his elbows so he can cup your face in both hands and surround you completely. “Sorry,” he croaks, “need you. Need to fill you up.”
You whisper against his lips, “Then fill me up already.”
His thumbs press into your cheeks a little. Sam’s breath fans across your face, throttled by the lump in his throat.
“Tell me you love me again.”
Um. You don’t exactly have the sexy heat of the moment to hide behind this time, but you still want to say it for him. His eyes swim with something unreadable. Desire and love, enough love to put a lump in your throat too, but a third thing also. It worries you.
You bring your hands up to stroke his wrists, and give a bit too much of your soul to him when you promise, “...I love you, Sam.”
The words hit him like a bullet. Sam shudders from head to toe, unable to reign himself in any longer, and plants a long, surging kiss on your mouth that makes your belly flash with nuclear levels of lust. He squirms his hands underneath your body so he can cradle you against him—genuinely cradling, one palm cupping the back of your neck—and then burrows into you face-first, groaning your name as his cock nestles itself as deep as it can go.
With all of his weight on top of you, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. You caress and kiss and dig your nails into him, and somewhere along the way you’re given a dose of whatever has made him fucking insane for you right now. It fogs your head and turns your reason to ash, so when Sam returns to ruining you for any other man, you whimper, “Please don’t leave me.”
“Oh, baby,” Sam hiccups out, and something strange hangs in his voice.
You would ask him what’s wrong, but the shuddering, flimsy scraps left of your brain are busy being blasted all over by white-hot pleasure. Everything scorches. Sam’s bare skin and his breath and his hands feel fucking molten, melting you down like hot glass. You’re pinned down in every possible way, and it pushes the sinking, gorgeous pressure inside you all over your body, like it’s not just Sam’s cock filling you up, but him, just him, the source of all good in the world. Holy fucking fuck. His hips glide back and then thud back into you again and again and again. You get why it’s called making love, now. You can taste your love for him in the back of your throat, feel it sitting in a sticky film on your skin. It hangs like humidity in the air of your apartment. And jesus christ, it bleeds from Sam, glowing off him like fucking radiation.
When you’re shamelessly wailing gut-deep in ecstasy, Sam peels himself off you. He forces himself to sit up. His chest putters up and down with desperate little breaths, and a gloriously big hand scoops under your thigh and welds it against your chest. Whatever he sees from this new angle—probably your wet, abused pussy stretched tight around the full base of his cock—makes Sam gape, utterly transfixed. You watch as his mouth falls open, and then those dark, soul-swallowing eyes crawl up your body to meet yours.
“Keep lookin’ at me,” Sam rasps.
Even if he doesn’t sway your opinion with a few dizzying, stomach-deep drags of his cock, (which he does), you’re convinced. You lock eyes with him—and then suddenly feel stupid for not watching him the whole time. A long curl of hair hangs in his eyes and sways as he fucks into you. His expression flutters with these sinful little giveaways, exposing just how starved he is for you, how in love. Maybe if you’d looked back sometime in the past five years, that’s what you would’ve seen: how much this has always meant to him. He searches your face for the same pleasure, obsessed with his effect on you. 
“Fuck,” you shudder out. “C-could cum just watchin’ you, Sammy.”
“That’s right,” he hisses, and you’ve never heard him sound so damn happy. “Cum for me. Please. Look so pretty when you do.”
Usually, when he makes you cum, it’s the roughest part of the whole act. He’d get both your wrists pretzeled behind your back and pinned viciously in one of his hands, and that’s when you’d know the big finish was coming. His pace would go from bouncing to bruising. But this Sam, your Sam, would stop time if he could, so he slows down even further, winding you closer and closer to the top of the mountain with little figure-eights of his hips. He gazes down at you the same way you’re sure you must gaze up at him. Beautiful, he murmurs under his breath.
You utter another, tight, almost-sob of, “love you so much, Sammy,” and his dick twitches wildly shoved in you to the hilt.
“Ohh—shit,” he chokes out, and his other hand snaps desperately towards yours on the bed. They find each other easily, and you squeeze his hand with everything you’ve got, infusing in him all the love he’s infused in you.
The slow, mounting tsunami of perfection you’ve been moving towards finally overcomes you, and in one long gorgeous slippery rush you cum for Sam. And because your life is a movie—he cums for you too. He rocks faster and falls forward to kiss you, your faces pressed together, your mouths slotting against each other, your pussy squeezing down on him in golden rippling strokes. Sam hisses your name out between his teeth as he cums. You’re lanced straight through by a whole fucking universe of fluttering, flickering pleasure. To be honest, you’re a little pissed about it—because it’s the best fucking orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, and it’s all because Sam raggedly chants those words to you again and again, laying sloppy, obsessive, head-over-heel kisses all over your face. Love you love you so much baby you feel so good squeezin’ down on me.
You could’ve had this ages ago. How much more time could you have had with him, if you had just stopped being stupid?
Sam’s crazed, sobbing, hitching I love yous somehow become, in true Sam fashion, a low spiral of thank yous. He lays there and clutches you until there’s a Sam-shaped imprint in your body. You’re pretty sure he would stay inside you all night if he could, but you coax him into some cuddling instead, since you both are in desperate need. It’s. It’s new, but it feels cleansing in the holy way.
What feels like hours later, your brain dimly connects to the rest of your body. You’re halfway through detangling Sam’s hair with your fingers as he hides face-first in your chest, pretending he’s not embarrassed that he cried. At least, that’s what you assume. The Winchester mind is a mysterious one, and as much as you would hope to know what Sam’s thinking, the slow hand drawing circles on your hip tells you nothing. Is he shy that he got emotional? That seems silly, since you both sobbed into each other earlier. Is he embarrassed about everything he confessed? Does he regret it?
Just when your train of thought really starts to take the curves of your spiral hard, Sam tiredly croaks into your neck, “I meant what I said, y’know.”
He draws in a lungful of your perfume through his nose, soaking up as much of you as he can possibly get. His hands smooth over your body, innocent and loving, caressing you, memorizing you, begging silently for forgiveness. 
Sam is a dead-silent crier. But you hear him sniffle as he gushes, “God, I love you.”
Maybe if you hadn’t been so tired, you would’ve picked up on it. Or maybe you’d heard it in his voice, seen it, something, and ignored it, hoping it was something else. Everything he felt, he put into a teeny, unmarked box that he’d bury god knows where, far from where anybody could be hurt by it. Sam didn’t—he wouldn’t say that to you. Not unless it was the last time he ever could. He would feel it, but it’d go right into that box where it couldn’t hurt you. You should’ve known.
Lie to me, you’d begged him. 
…And Sam had.
_
The dull realization that you are awake sets in around noon. Noon as in after-noon, well past when you’re normally up and at em’. When you wonder why the hell you slept in so late, you remember last night’s rain, thrashing against the windows all night, and Sam, his face haloed by lamplight and bleeding with quiet resolution.
Sam. Alive, and not going to say yes.
He’d been the one to keep you up all night. With his mouth and his hands, yes, but then afterward he’d been hellbent on talking. Just… talking. You’d been sluggish and cozy and sated after having sex, but no matter how close you came to falling asleep, Sam wouldn’t let it happen. For two straight hours he asked you every question he could come up with to keep you up with him.
Do you remember when we met? Cause’ I do. Do you remember what I said to you? Do you remember what you thought about me? I remember thinking how similar we were, y’know, how much we’d get along. You were so pretty… my whole face went red every time you looked at me. Do you remember…?
Being cuddled, kissed, and protected by the man you love really tempts a girl to doze off, too, so this was not an easy battle. But Sam persisted. He studied your face intently, uttering I love yous even when sleep started to pull you under. Hearing any Winchester drop those words on you still blew your fucking mind, to be honest. Sam especially. But it was romantic as it was worrying, so you’d shut him up with a kiss goodnight and echoed it back to him. Love you, Sammy. It was probably just an anxiety thing, you assumed—Sam, for some fucking reason, was a pretty insecure guy, so you imagined that was his way of making sure you wanted all of this. He seemed… scared. He wasn’t used to being wanted.
The apocalypse was still on. Maybe the world would end tomorrow, or maybe you’d get lucky and live a whole lifetime with Sam. Regardless, he’s never saying yes to Lucifer, and that alone means that there’s still hope for the future. You’re going to spend every second of it making Sam feel wanted.
Sitting up in bed, you scrubbed at your sleepy face with the heel of your hand and stared around the room. Sam was physically incapable of staying asleep after five in the morning, so the familiar evidence of his military-efficient morning routine was all over the place. You smiled to yourself. He’d picked up after the two of you, and had tucked another blanket over you in your sleep. Stupid chivalrous dumbass.
To think, you’d been terrified you’d never see him again just last night.
You push out of bed, only to almost buckle onto the carpet rag-doll style. Even being torturously gentle, that man manages to make you sore. With a very, very happy groan, you hop (and wince) into some clean underwear, then traipse out into your kitchen to show that dork who’s boss.
“Dammit, Samuel, you’re not my maid—” you start to say, but of course, this is Sam, who wouldn’t miss a morning run for anything. Right. That explains your empty kitchen.
…But it’s afternoon. Sam would be back by now. Your gut prickles with a bad feeling, and you superstitiously sweep your apartment, looking for him. His clothes from last night are still sitting in your hamper, his shirt folded neatly in your dresser and his watch on your nightstand. A spike of nausea rolls through you seeing that his jacket is gone—and his boots. But his duffle—it’s. It’s still on your kitchen table. It looks a little smaller than usual, but his books and his laptop are still inside. He probably just ran out to run some silly errand for you, determined to make up for worrying you so much. Yeah.
You force your hunter’s paranoia down to a simmer, padding over to your breakfast table. There’s a big ol’ note smack dab in the center of it, perched on his half-open duffle bag, and you start to play with one of the bracelets Sam left behind as you pick it up.
You cross your fingers, smiling ear-to-ear. “C’mon. All bets on breakfast. Please be getting me breakfast, please be getting me breakfast—”
…That’s not what the note says.
You read it.
Then you read it again, and the hammer falls, crushing the breath out of you and doubling you over the kitchen table. You read the note for the third time, needing to be sure, and the thin sliver of hope you had—maybe you’d just read it wrong, m-maybe he was fine—turns to ash. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.
You’re fighting back a surge of ugly, choking tears in an instant. He’s… Sam… he…
Your whole apartment lingers with the heat and goodness of him, like he’d been here just minutes ago. Just seconds. Even your clothes still smell like Sam. Just inhaling it tears chunks out of your reason, like—like you’d just missed him. Clawing around for something to do, you pace in a daze between your bedroom and the front door, desperate to recreate the moment you realized he was gone. You’re still just in the Stanford sweater and your underwear, but you don’t give a single shit and go careening out into the hall, stalking up and down your floor for him—because, b-because Sam wouldn’t, he wouldn’t do that to you—he would tell you first, he would never leave you in the dark like this—
…But you know Sam. And if it meant fixing his mistakes, saving you, saving everyone… Then he’d say yes in a heartbeat.
“These belong to you. You deserve a world to live in. I’m sorry - Sam.”
- tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1@lacilou@cevans-winchester @leigh70@ seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration @stoneyggirl2 @urm0mmmbbg @mulattomoon @poeticsorcery @deansapplepie @rennydenny @babydollfoster @badlandsbrunette @hallecarey1
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year
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For The First Time
Summary; Closed off older Eddie, slightly cynical, bit of a fuckboi who falls in love for the first time with you.
Bits of angst, mostly fluff and a lot of Smut, reader falls first and thinks Eddie doesn't feel the same, he falls harder. 18+ minors go away. Modern au
Older Eddie Munson x Reader
The reader is in her 20's and Eddie is 41.
If you enjoyed this then pls consider liking or reblogging ❤️✨���
I don't give anyone permission to copy, repost or translate my work.
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❤️
Eddie takes the beer Steve hands to him and nurses it for a little while. He's exhausted after working on a car all week and his last hook-up with a woman called Sarah? Sasha? Two weeks ago.
Fuck, he can't even remember. He didn't make it a habit to be with the same woman for too long, they would try to get to know him, get him to open up about life and things he never wanted to discuss.
It's not like he disliked the women he was with, he liked them and had fun but that was that. He made it clear that nothing more was to come from it.
The only thing that was troubling him is someone had caught his eye, a friend of Nancy's who worked with her on the biggest newspaper in Indiana.
Yn was your name and he hadn't been able to stop thinking about you and your tight little skirt all day.
He met you a few days ago at a party Steve and Nancy had thrown for their son's 10th birthday.
You were shy, yes but after talking to him for a bit you began to relax and let your guard down.
Fuck, you even made him laugh and he can't remember the last time that he's enjoyed talking to someone so much.
Not only were you funny and smart, but you were also beautiful and a sweetheart. It stunned him that he was keen on speaking to you again.
He just doesn't know quite how to approach you.
Turns out though that you were in your apartment. Thinking of the very same thing
💕
The next time you meet the chemistry again is off the charts, you can't help thinking about how sexy Eddie is.
You know he's older but you don't care, you've never been so attracted to a guy in your life.
He moves with confidence and knows he's the hottest guy in the room, leather jacket and jeans, rings adorning his hand and a smirk on his face.
Yeah, he knows he's hot shit.
Nancy can see straight away that your crushing on Eddie.
"He's a great guy but he's a bit of a fuckboi so just be careful okay?" you nod and assure her that you'll be fine.
He's hot but it's not like you'd fall in love with him or anything and you approach Eddie even though nerves are racing in your stomach.
His eyes light up when he sees you and you immediately start chatting.
It's like the first time you got talking where you immediately feel at ease with him, except now the way you look at each other is more intense and its obvious how much you both want each other.
When he asks if you would like to talk somewhere a little more private you agree.
Though not much talking was done at all as the minute that you reached Eddie's place and you were inside, it's like all the tension between you boiled over and he backed you up against the wall claiming your mouth in a searing kiss.
Your clothes fall away as you head upstairs, Eddie tossing his jeans to the side and kneeling down to kiss over your stomach and between your thighs.
Your hands tighten around his hair which he sweeps into a messy bun. He looks so hot that you almost combust right there and then.
His lips are everywhere on your body, hands cupping your breasts, mouth closing over your nipples and you moan.
"You're perfect" he growls out as he looks up at you through thick lashes and those big brown eyes are darker than usual, full of need and desire.
All you want to do is feel every inch of Eddie, and you do having him at your mercy as he stands up to kiss you and you drop to your knees, losing all your previous shyness and wink at him.
The look on his face, the little Oh his lips form as you suck him off imprints in your mind.
He's moaning, begging for you to take him deeper and when you do he loses all control, his eyes closing, veins throbbing at his neck as he comes hard, you lick up every drop and he watches you do it with a hungry expression.
By that point, you are both desperate for him to be inside you and he lays you on the bed. Your bodies entwined.
Eddie sheaths inside you and his head throws back as he moans in pleasure.
"Fuck baby, I love how tight you are, feel so good" he grunts out and thinks that he could lose himself being buried inside you forever, the feeling of you clenched around him was more intense than anything he felt in his life.
He comes hard and fast again, a guttural moan escaping from his mouth that joins your fervent cries of his name as you come.
"So fucking mind-blowing princess, he coos, I hope you know that I'm not finished with you yet"
The biggest smile lights up your face and you giggle.
"I hope not, think you can keep up with me old man?" you tease and he laughs... Oh, he'll show you...
❤️
Eddie and you meet very frequently, he can't get enough of you and you can't stop thinking about him.
It was the best sex both of you ever had and you loved the feel of Eddie's head between your thighs.
Or when you sucked him off and he looked at you like you were a goddess, that was pretty good too.
He made a point to tell you early into your relationship, fling? Whatever it was - that he hadn't been in love before so this would be strictly physical.
A friends with benefits type of thing, which you were fine with because you didn't want to stop seeing Eddie, you liked being around him.
"Don't you want to fall in love?" your curious to know after he tells you all of this and his big brown eyes lock with yours, there's a vulnerable edge to them that you haven't seen before but just as you're about to say something, he shakes his head.
"No, I don't. Now sweetheart. Enough talking. I'd rather have you naked and at my mercy" He kisses you and you forget about the conversation soon after.
❤️
Eddie's naked body is entwined with yours and your hands trail over his tattoos, move to trail over the scars on his body but before you can touch them he flips you over and has you on all fours.
His fingers knead your ass and he smirks.
"Fucking gorgeous" he moans and you feel so overstimulated but Eddie's voice in your ear is spurring you on just a little bit more.
"Come on princess, think we can do one more orgasm huh?" he croons and you feel one building fast as he fucks into you relentlessly.
The orgasm makes your knees buckle and you cry out in pleasure, Eddie tilts your head back so he can kiss you, his moans of ecstasy filling the room as he comes, spilling inside of you.
"That's my sweet girl" he coos and his lips brush against your neck as he pulls out of you and you curl up on his bed.
You're exhausted, legs like jelly and completely happy and sated though a little sore.
Eddie's bed looks so inviting and it smells like his cologne, like he's wrapping you in a big hug.
Eddie watches you for a second with a small smile on his face, his fingers caress over your hair for a brief moment and the tender touch startles both of you.
He clears his throat and moves away and you secretly wish he could keep doing it.
"You can stay here sweetheart. Have a ton of work to do for a clients motorcycle and shit" You nod sleepily but capture his hand before he leaves.
''Can you stay? Just for a little while?" you don't think he will say yes but you just wanted to ask.
For a second he looks hesitant then he agrees which elates you.
"Just until you fall asleep princess?" and that is fine by you, it's just lovely to cuddle into him for a little while.
"You're dangerous" he mumbles as his head rests on top of yours. His words puzzle you and you look up at him wanting to know what he means.
"Me" you whisper in disbelief and there's warmth in his eyes as he explains what he means.
"That little pout could get anything you wanted with that" he teases and you rejoice inside that he likes it.
The thought and sleepiness from all of those amazing orgasms lull you to sleep. When you wake up an hour later hes gone and you can hear him tinkering outside.
The fact he did stay with you for a little while though is enough to send you back to sleep with a big smile on your face.
❤️
A little while after that night, something in your relationship shifts again. The first time he stayed the night.
You hadn't expected him to stay. Not really, yet he did and you find yourself enchanted by Eddie when he's asleep, all of his defences down, peaceful.
Eddie lays on his stomach fast asleep, he's out for the count and his long limbs are sprawled across the bed, one of them entwined with yours.
He shifts a little and gives you a view of his chest.
Subconsciously your hand trails gently over a large scar of his, there are a few scars or scar tissue on his body and you want to ask what happened for him to get these marks.
You want to ask but you don't because you know it's a sore subject for him. Ever so gently you place a soft kiss on the scar tissue on his chest, then the one on his neck that is hidden by a tattoo.
When you look up at him he's watching you his gaze slowly turning gentle.
"What are you doing?" his voice is low, sleepy and sexy, it makes you tingle.
"Kissing you" His gaze trails down to the scar on his chest.
"My scars" he corrects you and you sit up, wanting to reassure him.
"I know you don't talk about them. Just wanted to give you kisses" He grins, then chuckles.
"Could you be any fucking cuter?" he asks you and it makes you feel giddy then he's silent for a moment before speaking again.
"I was attacked by bats princess" Bats? You raise an eyebrow.
"Vampire bats?" he motions for you to sit between his thighs, your head rested on his chest.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, baby, I haven't told this story to anyone in over twenty years" This intrigues you even more and you turn around and cup his cheek with your hand.
"I'm a good listener, try me" and so he did tell you, after you promised you would never tell anyone else. That's when you found out about the Upside Down, interdimensional monsters, demogorgons, demobats and Vecna.
"Like Freddy Krueger but real and more terrifying sweetheart"
You find out he was wanted for the murders Vecna committed because the first girl Chrissy killed by Vecna was murdered at his trailer when she was there for a drug deal due to the visions she had been having of Him.
He tells you about how he almost died and he has nightmares about The Upside Down, it's why he doesn't stay the night with anyone.
Until now.
That's the first night you realise how deeply you're falling for him.
❤️
Time passes and you fall for Eddie more and more. However Nancy's words play in the back of your mind about him being a bit of a fuckboi.
Or his friend and Nancy's younger brother Mike's words that he's surprised you've been around for so long because Eddie grew bored easily.
The words wouldn't leave your head because Eddie warned you that he hadn't been in love before, that he didn't want to and yet here you were with your heart laid open to him.
That earned a terrifying glare from Nancy and Mike scarpered.
She apologises but the words are saying heavier and heavier on you and you wonder how long it will be before Eddie grows bored of you.
You're scared you'll fall even more in love with him the longer you continue to see each other, the thought of him moving on without a care in the world leaves you hollow and leads you to react to protect your heart.
Eddie can see how upset you are and he has you in his arms, soothing you. Kissing your head, calling you his sweet girl.
It's like you could pretend that hes in love with you too but you know that isn't possible.
"Hey, talk to me sweetheart?" he caresses your cheek and it only makes what you have to say even harder.
Why did he have to be so wonderful? You curl up into his chest for a second before you move away.
"I don't think we should see each other anymore," you tell him even though it devastated you.
His eyes widen then flash with pain or at least that's what you think because he turns away very quickly.
"Why?" there's a crack in his voice and tears pool in your eyes.
"Because I've fallen in love with you" you admit truthfully.
"What, no you can't" He looks so stunned and you feel yourself shaking, the pain you feel is agonising.
"I do love you and you don't fall in love. That's what you told me and it was pointless because I did then I had some fairytale notion that maybe you might fall in love with me. Stupid huh?"
His fingers grip the table he's leaning behind and his expression resolves.
"You deserve better than me princess" princess, the thought of him not calling you that or hearing his voice devastates you but you have to be strong.
You can't force him to feel the same way about you, feelings don't work like that.
"That's where you're wrong Eddie, you don't know how lovely you are" you walk over to him and press a tender kiss to his lips.
"Guess this is goodbye then?" you murmur and choke back the tears. He is about to say something when Steve comes in and looks between the two of you.
"Uh, what's going on?" you flee before your emotions bubble over.
Don't cry, don't cry you say in your mind over and over again and you don't. Not until your in the privacy of your home and the painful emotions swallow you whole.
❤️
Eddie doesn't need you. He doesn't, he keeps telling himself that, thinks if he says it enough times that it will sink in.
But he misses you, he wakes up to an empty bed with his sheets smelling of your perfume and there's that burst of agony in his chest again.
Steve takes him out to a bar to cheer him up but all he can think of is you.
Every woman who comes up to him is turned away because they aren't you.
He can't even think about being with anyone else because all he craves is you.
It takes one more full day of misery, where Dustin and Steve finally have enough of his moping about and Robin and Nancy encourage him to find you again so you can talk.
"Eddie stop being a dingus when it's obvious you love her too. Life's too short to not grab happiness when you find it" Robin tells him and he gets up at that point, having enough of moping around.
He does need you, the time he's spent with you has been the happiest of his life.
He wants to see you, he wants you back.
❤️
It's late at night when you hear a knock at your door, you aren't expecting anyone but figure it could be Nancy or Robin coming to check on you.
All you planned to do tonight was pig out on ice cream and watch horror movies- you were staying far far away from romance films for a little while.
Wiping your eyes you get up and answer the door.
Eddie is standing outside and he's holding a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers, ones you can tell that he picked himself that are also mixed with your favourite flowers.
"I had to see you" You take in his appearance, the stubble growing over, the way his eyes have shadows under them like he hasn't slept.
He looks like how you feel inside.
"Hi," you murmur and he half smiles.
"Can we talk?" you nod and motion for him to come in. Why was he here? Was he here to tell you he had moved on or something?,
The thought is like a vice grip on your heart, that doesn't make sense though maybe he's here to return some of your things? You had one of his shirts here.
Or maybe he misses you as much as you miss him a hopeful voice says in your head which sounds a lot like Nancy.
"I miss you" he admits straight away and you itch to cuddle him and never let go.
"I miss you too" Your voice cracks and the tears come again and hes at you at once wiping them away ever so tenderly.
"I can't do this sweetheart, I can't not have you in my life" His confession stuns you because you convinced yourself so badly that he didn't feel the same.
"You know I love you Eddie, I know I can't force you to feel the same way, I never would force you to feel the same"
His voice is soft, cracking for a second then grows stronger. "I know that but here's the thing I've fallen in love with you, sweetheart, I can't imagine my life without you in it and I don't want to. I want you and only you for the rest of my life"
"Eddie" you sob and he smiles taking your hand in his, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.
"I love you today, tomorrow and forever if you'll have me" You nod and the euphoria hits you, the feeling that this wonderful man loves and wants to be with you.
"Yes. Yes, I love you Eddie Munson" He smiles and holds you tight, lips on your forehead and a whole new world of happy possibilities blooming for the two of you.
❤️
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WYD 1
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Summary: A fan makes an offer your can't refuse.
(based on suggestion he's been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)
Characters: Bucky Barnes
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You can’t help but grin as you scroll through the comments. There aren’t many but those that are there give you that rush of adrenaline. More so, the interaction is great for your wallet.
As a faceless creator, your interaction is limited. You prefer the smaller community. Your might not be the most lucrative account on OnlyFans but it pays your rent, just about.
It’s the only secret you’ve ever had in your life and it’s a big one. You don’t think anyone would believe it. Not you. Not the librarian’s assistant on part-time salary in her corduroys and stuffy oversized cardigans.
It wasn't exactly an opportunity you were fond of, more of a last resort. You don’t fantasize about the men on the other side of the screen, as flattering as they can be. They have a similar sort of desperation, but the crux of it is somewhat more pitiful.
It’s the private message waiting for you that surprises you. That alone is behind a paywall, a feature many users forego when they’re only there for the quick wank. You shudder at the thought, often avoiding that reality of your side hustle.
You’re nervous to check but alone in the stacks, with not much else to do, your curiosity gets the best of you. You tap the icon and bring up the chat from BB. No profile pic, no info, just a message.
‘Are you interested in a private arrangement? 5k/week guaranteed.’
Great, a scam. You roll your eyes and close the app. Stupid. But why would someone pay for content just to try to con you. It’s a pretty big gamble.
You tuck away your phone and sigh, pacing up and down the aisle. The soft flutter of pages and stagnant silence. It’s so dull, you’d rather deal with anything else for the minimum wage and uncertain hours. Still, the freedom lets you tend to your other business.
A few minutes later, out of habit, you bring out your phone again. You linger in the blindspot of the cameras and unlock it. The app pops up as you left it. Another message.
‘Don’t leave me on read.’
The demand startles you. You should just block but you know that it’s money in your pocket. You’re not gullible, more greedy.
‘5k? Okay, sure.’
You press send and hide your phone behind your back and wander on. Your insides squirm. You’re not stupid enough to believe it. You look again at the end of the next shelf.
‘If you want more, we can negotiate. We’d have to meet to do that.’
You scoff aloud and quickly look around. There’s no one there to be disturbed. You evasively sit at one of the desk and hide behind the wooden cubicle that encloses it.
‘I’m not stupid’, you reply.
‘No, but you’re gorgeous. Pick the place. Let’s talk.’
‘Good luck finding whatever you’re looking for but it’s not with me,’ you type, skin razed and speckly.
‘I mean it.’
‘You’re not real. Your 5k is less real. Save your money and stop messaging.’
You wait, watching the screen. Your ears prick as you listen to the lull of the forgotten library. You can hear a cart rolling a few aisles back. You can’t get caught on your phone again.
A new notification blips up in the app before you can black the screen. ‘BB sent a tip’. You click it without thinking and bring up the tip; $1,000. A thousand? A message pops down and you quickly flick the chat back over the screen.
‘Believe me now?’ He challenges.
You take a breath and lock your phone, tucking it up your sleeve as you stand and turn down an aisle, passing the approaching cart as you refuse to look at the employee behind it. You go to the catalogue computer and pretend to tidy the little paper slips and pencils. You wait until the wheels squeak onward.
You slide your phone out and press your fingertip against the censor. The screen opens and the next message taunts you.
‘Give me a place and time’.
You hesitate and peek around, paranoid that others could read your mind just by looking at you.
‘Send a pic. Then I’ll meet,’ you counter.
‘You first, doll. Face for a face.’
You don’t like this and yet, you’re messaging.
‘After you,’ you insist.
No answer. You shake your head and put your phone back under your cuff. You carry on and head up the stairs to the next level. When you look at your phone again, there’s a response waiting for you.
A man with bright blue eyes and a sculpted jawline. Handsome, almost breathtakingly so. Your surprise is undergirded by your insecurity. Well, might as well send your own and let him change his mind. You scroll through your miniscule collection of selfies that don’t make you cringe and send one off.
You can’t look away as you wait. You know what’s coming. Rejection. Finally…
‘Place, time. Make sure to buy yourself something nice.”
You stare at his answer, dumbfounded. Are you really going to do this?
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magxnoria · 1 year
Text
Starring Tokyo Revengers Men In ✰ Fight Night
Cast Line Up Ran, Rindou, Haruchiyo, Mikey, Kakucho, Hajime and Current Shuji
Rated PG-13
Minors This Isn’t For You
Summary ✰ How The Men react When you defend them! Your Hands getting Bloody Got Their Minds Getting Hazy!
No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty 
Ran Haitani
✰ For the First time in Ran’s Life he can truly say he flabbergasted, Seeing you one punch a fool out got him standing there shocked
✰ He can't help but Fanboy, You knocked this idiot lights out for him? Oh he's flattered and turned on at the same time
✰ He boasts and Brags about how you defended his “honor” to Rindou and Sanzu whenever he gets the opportunity
✰ “One punch and the fuckers teeth flew out” Ran boasts as Rindou sighs, “ And you stood there just fawning like a fucking idiot while your babe's hands got dirty with blood?” Sanzu asked making Ran dramatically gasp. “Hell No. I got a few stomps in” Ran grinned as Sanzu laughed and Rindou tried his best to ignore the conversation
✰ Ran Hates to admit it but he loves seeing you fight, something about you getting Violent just makes him hot and bothered
✰ “ You look so hot when you're angry maybe I should keep you mad then” Ran teases as his fingers hold your chin up
The day was going well, Ran and you were spending your time together basking in each other's company. You were happy to have Ran all to yourself without him being busy with work or whatever Shenanigans he has with Haruchiyo and Rindou but every good thing comes to an end
“You a bitch, Ran Haitani. A good for nothing blight on society!” Bolstering fool yelled making Ran roll his eyes, “And what makes you able to judge Him huh? Look at you with those grease stains on your shirt and your uneven Haircut” You said back to Bolstering Fool before Ran could even open his mouth 
“You think you're bad because of your Haitani little plaything? Your boyfriend isn't shi-” Bolster fool said before your fist connected with his head, The punch you landed made the man crumble to the ground like a balled up piece of paper. Ran couldn't keep himself from staring at you slack jawed, “ You knocked him out like it was nothing? When you learn how to do that?” Ran asked before grabbing your hand 
“I learned a few things hanging out with the guys and you, thought it would help to be strong myself” You answer back nonchalantly making Ran grin, “ Never thought I would see the day that you would defend me like that” Ran grinned before pulling you close to him. “Now let us go get something to eat I'm hungry” You sighed as Ran kissed your forehead, “ Okay anything for my bodyguard” Ran Giggled 
Rindou Haitani
✰Rindou's eyes had never been wider than the moment he saw you toss the annoying woman who was flirting with him across the floor of the club
✰ The way You was able to bob & weave before picking her up by her hair and rag dolling her got Rindou stunned
✰ Never has he ever seen the side of you, Now he needs to know what makes you tick and when you learned how to fight like this.
✰ “What Rinnie Thought you were the only one who knew how to break bones huh?” You teased as Rindou's eyebrow only raised at you
✰ Rindou's nerves getting worked by Ran and Sanzu every day now, They can't keep quiet about how strong you are 
✰ “Hulked up in the fucking club, Never seen ya babe do that before man” Sanzu laughed while Ran Giggled,” Like wrestling or some shit” Ran grins before Rindou made them hush up. “Keep talking, maybe I'll let the love of my life put your asses in casts” Rindou glared making the laughter stop
✰ With You by his side he feels oddly unstoppable now. He just got to keep an eye on you, don't need you getting hurt or snapping bones like twigs 
Rindou was Annoyed, This woman has been flirting with him up for the last thirty minutes and he had more than enough. “Can't you take a hint?” I’m not interested” Rindou glared as the trifling broad kept flapping her lips, “How can I leave you alone? You look so lonely sitting here by yourself” Trifling broad pouted making Rindou pray for you to show up
His prayers were answered when he heard your voice, “Who the fuck do you think you're flirting with?” You asked Making Trifling Broad look at you uglily. “And who are you?” She answered back with a question of her own, “The one who his heart belongs to. So back off before I get mad” You said while smiling making Trifling Broad's eye twitch before she tried to sucker punch you but you were faster than her
You dodge her punch without any effort before punching her in the ribs and grabbing her by her hair, Rindou's eyes widening as you tossed Trifling Broad across the club by Her hair before coming to sit on his lap while acting as you didn't just use a woman as a human frisbee
“Since when did you know how to fight?” Rindou as you smiled up at him, “I always knew how to fight. Just The opportunity for me to fight never came up” You said before kiss his cheek. “Damn I love you” Rindou groaned before Ran interrupted you two, “That was Amazing” Ran gushed making Rindou sigh
Haruchiyo Sanzu
✰ You got Haruchiyo questioning reality, One Minute this drunk bitch was splashing her drink in his face and the next she was on the floor like a broken chip
✰ He's used to being the crazy one in the relationship but seeing you resort to violence for him? Got him straining in his pants
✰ “Fuck. I  never knew you had this in you” Haruchiyo exclaims as he pushed his wet bangs out of his face
✰ He had never been more turned on in his life, he got to take you someplace less crowded and show you what you did to him
✰ The Haitani's are more cautious around you now, you're as crazy as your boyfriend in their eyes
✰ “Kicked the girl's nose in while wearing stilettos” Ran whispers to Takeomi as Haruchiyo laughs, “Dont forget My babe was Wearing a dress too and looked graceful as fucked while doing it” Haruchiyo grins while Ran just stares at the madman
✰ Yes he's Insane but he's insanely in love with you and that's all that matters
Haruchiyo leaned against the bar as he watched you dance from afar, His drink in his hand as he took in the way you moved only to be disturbed by drunken slurs. “So you're gonna pretend you don't know me, Huh?? After Breaking My heart!” Drunken bitch spat out pulling Haruchiyo from his trance
“Look Lady I don't fucking know you. Can You please get out of my fucking space?” Haruchiyo said while trying not to get pissed off, “You know what? Fuck you bastard” the Drunken bitch slurred before tossing the entire glass of liquor in Haruchiyo's face. Like in a movie you turned around to see everything happen in slow motion.
Before everyone knew it you had delivered a roundhouse kick to a drunken bitch head that Even Made Manjiro Sano say damn, Haruchiyo couldn't help but be shocked as you walked over to him. “You okay baby?” You asked as you grabbed a napkin and dried off his face while he pushed back his bangs 
“I'm alright. That was just so fucking hot” Haruchiyo groaned as he pulled you close to him, “Let's leave. Go somewhere quiet for a while hmmm?” Haruchiyo whispered in your ear as you bit your lip. “Okay Haru, Let's go” You grinned before grabbing his hand and walking over the unconscious body of Drunken Bitch to leave.
“I got that all on Camera, World star!” Ran giggled as Rindou rolled his eyes at his brother.
Manjiro Sano
✰ Manjiro is used to protecting you, The thought never crossed his mind that one day you might defend him
✰ But now he sits in his chair chilled to the core as you wail on the fool that disrespected his name 
✰ The same hands that lovingly caress him is currently turning a man's face bloody, even Sanzu is shocked seeing you go wild with rage
✰ Manjiro is touched, That you would dirty your hands for him and spill blood but he doesn't want you to harm yourself
✰ Is quick to grab your fist and calm you down while his man takes care of the mess you made and the unconscious fool
✰ Manjiro's Love for you is solidified more than ever now, You love him so much that you bruised up your knuckles because a fucker disrespected his name? He needs to buy you a wedding ring ASAP
Another Night in the club but you didn't mind, You liked being around Manjiro and his Men after all he is a king and this is his kingdom. You focused on dancing and enjoying the night but unfortunately, that would be ruined for you. “ Manjiro is a weakling. A tapeworm” Drunk Bastard said pissing you off
“What did you say?” You asked before cracking your knuckles, “ You heard me bitch. Manjiro Sano is nothing but a piece of garbage pail sludge” Drunk bastard slurred making you jump out of your heels as you approached him at rapid speed before decking him in the mouth with your fist
“Say that shit again… Oh, you can't huh? You grinned as you let rage take over as you continued to beat the man senseless, the club coming to a halt as Manjiro and his men watched you Pummel Drunk bastard to a pulp. You only stopped when Manjiro himself had grabbed your fist, “I don't want you to Hurt yourself. Let Sanzu Take care of him” Manjiro said before helping you up
“You didn't have to get your hands bruised and dirty for me you know.” Manjiro said as he cleaned you up, “I want to protect you because i love you” You respond back to him making him sigh. “ You're the most precious person to me, I can't risk you getting hurt.” Manjiro said before kissing your lips, “I love you” Manjiro whispered before kissing your hand 
Kakucho
✰ Maybe it's because he just got smacked across the face but did Kakucho Just see you bodyslam the woman who slapped him unprovoked?
✰ Mans thinks he's hallucinating cause he had Never seen you this angry before nor has he seen you lay your hands on someone like this 
✰ You got Kakucho worried for you, did you get hurt? Has any harm come to you? Got him stressing
✰ “ You didn't have to do that you know” Kakucho whispers in your ear as you iced his face, “ Like hell I didn't. I got to protect you like you protect me” You sighed making Kakucho feel warm
✰ Man does he loves you but please don't put yourself in Harm's way for him, He doesn't know how he would handle it if something happened to you
✰ He hears wedding bells in the distance and he knows that's not a hallucination 
Kakucho was sitting on the park bench waiting for you, the day was beautiful but everything had to turn ugly. “You piece of shit! You broke me!” Misguided wretch screamed shaking Kakucho out of his thoughts, “ I'm sorry but you got me confused for someone else” Kakucho said as he tried to reason with a visibly drunk woman
“How dare you try to gaslight me?” Misguided Wretch screamed before slapping Kakucho across the face but before Misguided Wretch knew it She was being slammed to the ground by you, “ How dare you slap him? My man” You yelled out as your hands pounded on the woman's face
You let your anger boil over as continued to beat her ass even as she clawed at you. You were hellbent on making her pay for what she did, Only stopping when you finally knocked her light out. Kakucho was quick to help you up and fix your clothes but your concern was all on him
“Kaku, are you okay? You asked as you softly held his face, “ Im alright but are you okay? Kakucho replied back as he searched you for injuries. “ You didn't have to do that you know,” Kakucho said making you smile, “ I did it because I love you and no one disrespects the one I love” you responded back before kissing his face. “Now to get some ice for your face” you said before grabbing his hand 
Hajime Kokonoi
✰ You got Hajime's brain not working. he puzzled and in the deepest stages of shock, seeing you knock out the man who spanked your ass in passing
✰ It happened so quickly that Hajime questioning his thoughts, The only thing that confirms that it happens is your bruised knuckles and the unconscious fool who lays before you
✰ He's so turned on right now, he can't hide it. You can fight? Like this? Fuck.
✰ Is quick to clean your knuckles off before massaging them while staring at you with eyes full of infatuation 
✰ “I never knew you could punch like that,” Hajime said while his eyes searched yours for a reaction, “I just got mad that's all” You answer him back
✰ Remind him to never get you mad then, Your punches are lethal. But he has to admit it's so hot seeing this side of you
✰ He got a new weakness and again it involves you.
You couldn't help but feel warm all over as you walked with Hajime, He always made you feel like heaven when your hand was held by his but you were pulled back to earth when you felt a hand that wasn't Hajime Spanked your ass. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You asked before letting go of Hajime Hand and approaching disgusting Sleazebag
“A man who knows when he sees a beautiful ass he has to spank it” Disgusting sleazebag answered back making you snap, before you knew it your anger had taken control of you and your fist was against Disgusting sleazebag's head. You sent disgusting sleazebag flying against the pavement as Hajime stood there confused
“What the fuck just happened?” Hajime asked while you wrapped your arms around him, “ He spanked my ass and I punched his lights out Koko” You sighed While Hajime rubbed your back. “I never knew you had power in your punches” Hajime said making you giggle, “ I never got this pissed off before” You smiled as Hajime Grabbed your hand
“Let get some ice for your hand” Hajime said before walking away with you leaving Disgusting sleazebag on the ground dazed and confused
Shuji Hanma
✰ Shuji thought he knew everything about you but apparently he was wrong, The way you just dropped this fucker who was starting shit with Him got Shuji grinning like a madman
✰ Damn you were made for each other, fucking soulmates in his mind. He can't believe you could be so ruthless
✰ Got Him leaking just from seeing you draw blood from this idiot's head it's like he woke up in the hottest dream ever 
✰ “ Damn Babe. He's out” Shuji says while he pulls you away from the imbecile, “ So fucking Hot, Now let's leave this scene” Shuji groans before catching your lips in a sloppy kiss
✰ He's always talking about how good of a fighter you are, Kisaki is sick of hearing about it
✰ “ before I knew it babe had dodged his punches and had him laying there like a wet duvet,” Shuji says while Kisaki massages his temples 
✰ The damn world better get used to hearing Shuji gush about how quick with your hands you is because he's never gonna shut up
You spent the day with Shuji as he took pictures of the scenery, Your head on his shoulder as he looked through his camera roll. “Looks good Shu” You smiled only for that smile to run off your face. “Look at this, a bitch sitting here with his camera” Blubbering dumbass said making Shuji roll his eyes, “ I dont know who the fuck you think you are but leave us alone before things get ugly” Shuji Responded back making Blubbering dumbass sneer
“You can't tell me what to do, you weak pathetic worm.” Blubbering dumbass quickly snapped back making you stand up, “Look leave us alone.” You said before glaring the man down. “Oh, you think you make me scared? You and your boyfriend isn't nothing but bitc-” Blubber asshole said before he was cut off with a punch to the gut
Shuji's mouth opening up as he watched you beat the shit out of blubbering dumbass, your fist damaging the man with every blow you gave making Shuji get aroused, “ Fuck babe. You got hands” Shuji said as he walked to you before grabbing your arms. “Hes out cold. Don't want you to damage your hands” Shuji said before helping you up
“Fuck. That was hot. Never knew you had that in you” Shuji grinned before kissing your lips, “now let's go home because I got another way you can take your anger out” Shuji groaned as he held your hand
Likes, Comments, Reblogs, And Asks are Appreciated & Loved
Please Don’t Steal My Shit 
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miley1442111 · 7 days
Text
thank god for dr. spencer reid
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a/n: this was written with a fem!reader in mind but imagine what you want, reader has a period (same girl) :) spencer us such a cutie in this :)))))))
summary: your shitty family is in town and spencer is away, what will you do?
pairing: spencerreid x reader
warnings: heavy family issues, mentions of stress and sickness, very brief mention of abuse (litch not talked about just referenced dw), kinda cursing (just realised i've never warned this before... opps) and i might've missed some!
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My eyes are glued to the screen with a perpetual frown playing on my lips. It’s hard to try to care about my job when I have this looming feeling of dread hanging over me like a cloud. Spencer has been MIA for days now. He left in a hurry on Monday night for a case. It’s Saturday now and he hasn’t been responding to my calls. On top of that, I have dinner with my mother and father. Both of them make it abundantly clear that they’re disappointed in my career choice, which is ridiculous because I’m a lawyer. Not the right kind of lawyer they constantly say. I’m an environmental lawyer and I make good money. The only way to satiate their insufferable whining is with Spencer. They love him. They probably love him more than me at this point. Alas, I will just have to deal with them alone tonight. And today has already been one hell of a day. First, Morgan called me,asking where Spencer was, telling me that they finished and that they should be home soon. He had not come home yet. Secondly, I feel like shit, an allergic reaction, my period and some random nausea all add up to making me feel itchy, gross, and practically vile all over. Thirdly, a huge pimple has decided to pop up on my face and  just know my mother will comment on it. My mother is one of those women who look effortlessly put-together 24/7. I am not one of those women. She does not like women who don’t look effortlessly put together. Aka, she barely tolerates me. 
I sigh and close my laptop screen, unable to reread the same few sentences again and again, hoping that they would get into my brain. I’m defending a client, one of my firm's biggest clients, in court next week. They were accused of illegal dumping (dumping they did not commit) and now they’re being sued for 2 million dollars. I slump out of my desk chair and out of my home office, locking it behind me for the weekend ahead. If I have court next week and Spencer is coming home after a difficult case, then we’ll need a day or rest and relaxation together. That is, if he even bothers to come home. I busy myself with getting ready and try to push those thoughts out of my head. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The last hour of my life has been 60 minutes of absolute misery. Why did I ever accept this invite? My mother excuses herself to the bathroom and my father excuses himself for a cigarette, I nod along. Then it hits me… my dad doesn’t smoke anymore. I stare at the door and before I can stop myself my face contorts into a frown once again. Amelia, my sister. The sister that I haven't seen in years. The sister that bullied and abused me throughout our teenage years. Fuck. 
“Amelia?” I question, looking at the blonde woman who looks… different. She’s obviously older than I remember, and a bit more… I don’t know how to put it. Her blonde hair surpasses her waist and she seems to be pregnant? Her blue eyes seem dull and lack a certain vividness they used to sparkle with. She’s the typical peaking in high-school mean girl who became a nurse girl. I honestly can’t believe I used to look up to her. 
“It’s so good to see you!” She smiles, one of her fake-bitchy smiles and I grimace as she tries to hug me. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing, especially with the baby on the way, I’ll need all the help I can get!”
My heart drops. “Oh!” Is all I can manage. She sits in the seat beside me and I instinctively move further away. Just as I think this stupid dinner can’t get any worse, her pervy fiancé, Johnny, walks in.
“No Spencer?” He smirks. “What? Did you two break up? He was always too vanilla for you, you need a real man-” 
“No, sorry. I was just late. I had to come straight from the jet,” Spencer smiles from behind him. My parents' eyes light up, as Amelia and Johnny’s faces fall. I smile appreciatively at him as he hands the flowers he brought over to my parents and sits beside me, a comforting hand on my thigh. 
“How’s work, Spencer?” My father asks, his undivided attention on Spencer.
“It’s good, strenuous but good. Our cases recently haven’t been too difficult- though there was one that had a puzzle I thought you might enjoy…”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I walk inside our house behind him, a million thoughts at once flowing through my head. We walk to the kitchen, he sits me down and takes off my shoes for me, a true gentleman. 
He presses a kiss to my cheek and smiles. “You look beautiful.”
I just nod back, a small smile on my lips. 
“Is everything alright?” He asks, turning to me, his hands resting on my waist. 
“Fine,” I tiredly smile. “Just… you know, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“You know, saying that makes me worry more, right?:” He smiles softly, though we both know he’s serious. 
“I just… I can’t believe she just showed up, like 7 years  of not seeing her and she just shows up? Like it’s casual? And then asks for our help with her baby? Like she did nothing to me? Like she-” I stop myself, determined not to cry right now. 
“Angel, it’s ok, let it out,” he soothes, a hand on my back, rubbing comforting circles. 
“I don’t want to cry though, they’re not worth crying over.”
“Then how about we get ready for bed, yeah angel?” He offers, a tired look in his eyes. I nod and press a soft to his perfect lips. He smiles against my mouth, his hands finding the sides of my face. I run a hand through his hair. He pulls away softly, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I smile. “Thank you for coming, my knight in shining armour.” 
“I enjoyed it. Watching your father fail to solve a simple puzzle was amusing.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as I roll my eyes. 
“We’re not all geniuses,” I remind him. 
“You are.”
“And how am I a genius?” I chuckle.
“You’re dating me, you clearly have superior taste and intelligence,” he says matter-of-factly. I gigle at his antics and kiss him again. He pulls away and grabs my hand, leading me into our room. We both opt out of brushing our teeth and washing our faces, a makeup wipe sufficing for removing my makeup. He pulls me into bed with him, and finally, after a long week, I finally lie down in bed with him, his arms around me in a bear-hug of sorts. This is heaven. He’s my knight in shining armour. Thank God for Dr. Spencer Reid. 
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Text
Secure in your Lap
ft Nanami Kento
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a/n: I can't believe I finally wrote thisI So this was inspired by this ask from @sitarawrites. It was supposed to be a cute fluffy fic, but somehow devolved into this angsty piece, so idk. Although I wrote this fic with a desi/asian reader in mind, I think anyone with a difficult relationship with their parents can relate to this, and I hope it comes across that way.
Rating: 13+, nothing explicit or sexual
Warnings: difficult family dynamics, mentions of familial trauma, guilt, manipulation
Pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
Summary: A phone call from reader's mother results in her remembering all the reasons she's grateful for her now fiance.
Word Count: 2343
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It’s never a good day when your mother calls. Sometimes you wonder why you put up with it and allow her to test your boundaries, despite setting a schedule that you would not be calling her except for Tuesday and Friday nights.
Even the hour spent on those nights are tedious at best. They never make you feel better; it's all for her. It makes her feel better. And despite the fact that you have graciously made this time for her, she never seems to appreciate it. In fact, most of these conversations are one-sided. You’ll have your headphones in, while she chatters away, as you try to focus on other tasks, like folding laundry, or tidying up the general clutter that always accumulates in the living room, throwing in the occasional ‘uhm hm’ every few minutes so that she knows you’re still on the line.
You’ve learned to tune out most of the conversation because very little of it is ever relevant to you. Unless you hear a few key words such as ‘dad’ or ‘finances’ or ‘house’ you don’t really pay attention to the conversation at all. Because you know how most of these conversations go. They start with her talking about her day, complaining about her job. Then she complains about your dad, despite knowing you’ve heard it all before. Then it devolves into blaming other people for circumstances she’s in right now based on events that happened long ago. 
When all of these topics are exhausted, she gets to her juiciest arsenal; you. Oh, the things she has to say about you, about how you were such a wonderful child, sweet and obedient and how you suddenly became this rough woman who she doesn’t know how to talk to anymore. Or how you’ve stopped visiting of late, that you’re never home for the holidays, and that she blames your boyfriend for this. Then it’s criticism of your life choices, starting with how you moved in with your boyfriend while unmarried, the fact that he’s not from the same ethnic background as you, or the fact that she blames your ‘attitude’ on him because he defends you from her each time. 
Today it was about how you could do so much better than him, and you finally snap. 
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
There’s a moment of silence, then with uncontained glee, she says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Well relationships sometimes don’t work out, it’s ok-”
“Because he asked me to marry him.” You finish bluntly, cutting her off. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore because he’s my fiance.” You wait for the bomb to drop.
“Oh.” Your mother’s voice sounds tight, like it’s been stretched taut between pins on a tacking board. “And when did this happen?”
“He proposed last Sunday.”
“And I’m finding out just now. You really must hate me…”
“Don’t do that,” You warn, keeping your voice deadly calm. You knew if you raised it or gave any signs that her words had affected you, it would give her a rush of satisfaction. “Either you’re happy for us or you’re not. Now which is it?”
“Well, it hardly matters now does it? Although I supposed I should be grateful you’re marrying him after all this time. There’s nasty gossip back in our community…so at least you’ve spared me from the embarrassing idea that you wouldn’t marry a man you’ve been living with like an unprincipled woman.”
“How lovely,” you said through gritted teeth. “Be sure to tell the community I have zero fucks to give them as well.”
“Language…I raised such a proper girl, when did you start saying filth like this?”
“I have to go mom. Your behavior will determine if you’re invited to the wedding or not.”
“You are the type to exclude your mother from your own wedding.I’ve known that for years. So it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise. Anyway, talk to you later…Friday night now?”
She disconnects the call and you sit there in disbelief, heart racing. Every time you stand up for yourself, you know it should feel like a victory but somehow, she manages to even steal that from you. You sigh and rest your head against the back of the car seat.
You had just driven home after a long day’s work and decided that it would be easier to talk to your mom in the car and finish it off since you didn’t want to detract from the peace you feel at home. You feel tears prick the back of your eyes and your throat feels like it’s closing in on itself. 
Why did you let her in on your life? There’s a strange sense of loyalty to her despite her abuse of you. Because despite everything, there are certain things she did which she wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t loved you. Putting you through your degrees, both bachelor’s and master’s. Letting you live at your parent’s house for free when you were in between jobs. Letting you borrow their car to get to job interviews. There’s signs of love there but why did it have to come attached with this emotionally manipulative price tag?
You let yourself cry for a short while, then hold up your left hand to admire the engagement ring your now fiance had picked out. A watery smile breaks out over your face as you look at it. You feel vain when you allow yourself to do this, but you can’t help it. You weren’t really looking at it for it’s monetary value, but more so for what it symbolized; the peace and balance he brought to your life, the maturity your own parents lacked while raising you, and the security that it didn’t matter if you made a bad choice, he’d never make you feel worse about it.
Wiping away your tears, you turn off the car and quickly look at yourself in the mirror. Thankfully your makeup hadn’t smudged much and you could chalk up the tiredness in your eyes as lack of sleep. You take a deep breath before getting out and entering your home. Your fiance was unloading takeout containers from a bag as you entered. He looks up and smiles warmly at you.
“Thought I heard you in the driveway,” he says as he comes over to embrace you, his arms enveloping you with affection. Nanami presses a kiss to your forehead then pulls you in closer, tucking your head under his chin.
You let yourself rest against the warmth of his broad chest, the comfortingly familiar feel of his body relief to the turmoil inside your chest. Resting your cheek on his chest, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply. 
“Y/n? Are you all right?”
Nanami always notices. There’s never a single moment when he’s out of touch with your feelings. He’s learned all the lines in your face, the way your different facial muscles contract or relax depending on how you're feeling. He notices the tension in your shoulders, the slight drop in energy in your step as you walk through the door. Nanami always notices. 
You slowly shake your head no. The flurry of feelings inside you, the hurt, the disappointment, the inability to cut off your mom for good, the overwhelming feeling of being inadequate, a disappointment, churn inside you to the point that you feel like you may never come out of this cyclone feeling like a winner. It’s so complex that you’re not even sure where to begin or how to put it into words. Your thoughts and feelings tangle like a ball of string, knotting into a mess of strands that are impossible to separate. 
“Kento.”
“Yes my love?” His hands run soothingly over your back. 
“I need your lap.”
That was all you could say at the moment. The complexity of everything was too much to bear. Over the years his lap has become a safe space for you. A quiet, designated spot where you could feel everything you wanted to, without any judgment. 
Nanami nodded wordlessly, gently taking your hand and leading you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you on top of his lap. Your feet wrap around his lower back, wedged between the sofa cushions and his body while your head rests on his chest, listening to his breathing and you try to match yours to his, a calming technique you’ve learned over the years.
His large hands play with your hair, stroking it, cupping the back of your head and gently pressing kisses to your forehead. He’s learned over the years that lap sessions meant you were in a state of distress and that it wasn’t his place to force you to talk. You would talk when you’re ready, if at all. 
“Mom?” he asks softly, his voice fluttering through the top of your hair. You merely nod, the thought of explaining it too difficult to even form words. A deep hum of understanding echoes from his chest and you close your eyes at the comforting sound.
Everything about him screamed security. You remember one time breaking a cup while making your morning coffee, the distinct crack of shattering porcelain filling the kitchen. You had flinched, waiting for the tirade of blame and accusations of clumsiness to come at you, only to see Nanami rushing over to you, concern etched all over his face.
“Are you all right? You didn’t get cut?” His words had brought you to tears, that his primary thought had been you and your safety, instead of a very replaceable coffee cup. No one yelling at you for making a mess in the kitchen, or muttering under their breath that you had wasted a usable mug. Nanami had, in a befuddled state, watched as you came to his side, wrapping your arms around him. It wasn’t until 2 weeks after the incident had happened that you had told him what that moment meant to you. 
And now here you were, again, allowing your mom to rob you of the happiness you had worked so hard to build. You're amazed at the patience Nanami has with you, at the way he always reassures you, never letting you forget your worth. That you're more than just your parents’ child. That you are a whole human being on your own, that has the right to live your life without their interference. 
“I don't think I want my parents at our wedding.” The words fall out of your mouth. There's lingering guilt but deep down, you knew it was for the best. 
Nanami adjusts himself on the couch and leans back against the cushions. Most of the time, he leaves handling your parents up to you, despite how much it bothers him that they ruin your mood every time. But there's understanding in his eyes. 
“Not even your dad? I thought you wanted him to give you away.”
“My dad’s an enabler. He'll never come if I don't invite my mom. Besides,” you inhale deeply and continue, “The only person worthy of giving me away is myself.” You gaze into his warm brown eyes, feeling proud that you had come this far. This would be your achievement today. That you were able to say these words and believe them. 
“That’s so very true sweetheart.” He gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Look at you, remembering your affirmations.”
Although it’s not much, you still feel yourself glowing at his praise. Growth on your end. “Besides, if they got involved, they’d hijack all the planning, blow it up into a grand ceremony even though that’s not what we want. It’s just easier without them.”
“Anything you want.” He brushes his lips against your hair.
“No, not anything I want. It’s your wedding too. I’d be ok if you wanted a ceremony. I imagine there’s lots of people you’d want to invite. I just won’t be inviting anyone from my side. Except for my best friend.”
He grasps your chin between his fingers and with sincerity asks you, “How did you imagine it?”
You consider this for a second. Previously, you had imagined the typical traditional wedding that people of your background were expected to have. But the image has been fading lately, and now, unburdened from your parents’ expectations, your mind immediately creates a picture.
“I want to do it at the beach. Just…no expectations, no one grumbling about how we skimped on decorations or other unnecessary things like flowers. I want…to walk down towards you on the sand, barefoot. Feel the ocean breeze on my face. There’s a small group of guests. Very minimalistic.”
He looks like he’s considering it for a moment but his expression doesn’t show signs of objection. “We could do that. Small wedding, intimate ceremony.”
“Really?” You look at him with love in your eyes.
“Really. I think all the people I want to invite would easily fit into this setting.”
You lean forward and wrap your arms around him tightly. There were simply no words to express how grateful you are for him, for his presence in your life. That you could actually be a family, just the two of you.  You lean back to take in all of him, just sitting serenely on the couch, in this shared space the both of you called home now. 
“Thank you, Kento.” You say quietly. You know it’s unnecessary, that his love is so very unconditional, no emotional price tags attached. “I know I’m not the easiest to love sometimes.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He draws you tightly to his chest. “It’s so easy to love you. Because every small thing you do is filled with love and consideration. Thoughtfulness. Emotion. And that’s enough. You don’t have to be more than that.”
Your heart swells as you hear his words, the only person to ever really understand just how much you needed to know those things. 
“I’m enough.” You whisper softly, still on his lap, resting comfortably in his embrace. You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closing.
I’m enough…
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ofsappho · 9 months
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Summertime Sadness (part 1)
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader
Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort
Later’s better than never… right?
Ten years ago, Simon and you met at the same therapeutic boarding school. You fought, he said some shit, he left. He thought he’d never see you again.
Until one day, a hospital calls and informs him that you’ve listed him as your emergency contact.
(title from the song by Lana Del Rey)
-
Tags: mental illness, abuse, addiction, self harm, suicidality/suicidal ideation/suicide attempts, angsty shit in general, Ghost being very mean as a fucked up 17 year old boy
There’s an old battered flip phone he hides in the back of his locker wherever he’s deployed. Ghost doesn’t turn it on all that often. Everyone who knows the number is dead.
But sometimes he does, just to stare at the contacts and click through the photos and remember what it was like to talk to them.
Today is one of those days.
He can only take so much talk from his team about families, friends, dogs waiting back home, and pretty girls before feeling the urge to break things.
So he excuses himself to hide in the bathroom like a fucking pussy and takes the phone with him. Simon can pretend he’s waiting for his own phone call from people who love him for a few minutes. Then he promises himself that he’ll put it away and not touch it for another six months.
It takes forever to power on. It’s still janky from the last time Ghost threw it at a wall, it seems.
One (1) missed call.
…What?
They left a voicemail.
His fingers shake as he listens to it.
There’s a long, tinny beep. “Hi, Mr. Riley, I’m…” A woman says in a rushed, businesslike manner. “I’m one of the nurses at-“ Ghost hears a bustle of background noise; faint murmurs, emergency sirens, doors sliding open and shut. “…Hospital. I’m calling because a friend of yours,” The nurse says your name. A name he hasn’t thought about in years. “…Put you down as her emergency contact when we admitted her to our psychiatric inpatient ward. Unfortunately, she did not provide us with anyone else. Please give me a call back at this number if you’d like to speak with her.” Click.
Ghost starts packing an overnight bag before he even realizes it.
Then he’s on a plane.
-
TEN YEARS AGO
“I hate you.”
You’re crying as you run after him in the forest. He speeds up, trying to lose you in the trees. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Simon. I’ll never bring it up again.” Snot covers your upper lip and your eyes are bright with tears.
He hates this fucking place. He hates this fucking school, the kilometers of wilderness separating him from his life because the fucking shrinks think he’s crazy. He hates you for trying to keep him here.
And just when Simon was about to fly the coop, you spilled the beans. “Leave me the fuck alone. Never, ever, ever talk to me again,” He barks, stopping abruptly and turning to loom over you.
When you reach for his hand, he slaps you away. “But you promised you wouldn’t leave-“ You end up on the ground, the pine needles biting into your bare knees as if Simon shoved you.
That makes him angrier. You’re too soft for a world like this. You’re practically begging for someone to hurt you again, someone like him, with your vulnerability and open, bleeding heart. Well, he’ll fucking oblige. You’re not strong like you think you are. You’re the weakest person he knows, and weakness is something Simon could never respect.
“I lied. I fucking lied, you dumb bitch. Didn’t you realize it?” Simon snarls, wishing desperately he’d never let you befriend him on his first day at this therapeutic program.
You're sunshine and innocence and friendship bracelets, the kind of girl who will always be a victim because this world devours little girls like you. Simon is nothing like you. Simon is a survivor. A warrior. Simon is steel where you are china.
Your American accent is almost as unbearable as your pathetic weeping. “…What?” Your bottom lip wobbles.
Hopefully this will teach you a lesson about tattling. Nobody likes a snitch. “Forever doesn’t fucking exist. You were the only tolerable person in this shithole, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to be friends forever. What are you, a fucking infant? God, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass.” If anything, Simon is letting you off easy. You told the counselor things Simon told you in confidence about his dad because you were ‘afraid for his safety.’
But you just don’t get it. Simon can’t spend another day here. And the longer he stays, the angrier his dad will get. You just earned him another week of shit and black eyes.
“Newsflash. People lie. Everyone’s been lying to you. Nobody likes you, not even your mum. And I can’t stand you. You were useful, but I don’t need you anymore. I’m better,” Simon hisses as cruelly as he can, using every blade in his arsenal to cut at the sensitive parts of you where he knows you’ll bleed. Just like you did when you told.
You’re only stuck in this place because your mum left you here. You don’t have anyone, not like he does. He has Tommy and his mum. He has a future. You’ve got absolutely fucking nothing.
“I was just trying to help.”
“I’m getting out of here. I don’t need your help. I’d tell you to keep it, but it wouldn’t even help you.” Simon pauses. You’ve stopped crying. Good. A crying fox is easy prey for the hunting dogs. “They won't believe you. And you wanna know why?” It feels good to be the hunter instead of the fox for once. You make excellent prey.
“‘Cause I told them the truth. That you’re an obsessed freak who’s hyper fixated on me and you’d do anything to keep me here. That you’re a sick, compulsive liar and that you’re the one who’s a danger to herself, not me.”
You fall silent. Finally, blessed silence. You look up at Simon with glazed eyes and a still tongue. He feels better. Good, even.
“Goodbye. I hope I never see you again,” Simon says flatly.
-
TODAY
You picked a good place to get yourself locked up in. This is one of the nicest hospitals Ghost has been in recently. Shiny floors, no dirt caking the walls. New York City puts Kabul and Moscow to shame.
He’s wearing a plain black balaclava. Nothing identifying or particularly memorable. This is going to be a short visit. Ghost will see what you want and then leave. That’s it.
You look tired, exhausted to the very bone.
None of the shiny pinkness that drew Ghost to you in the beginning when you were fifteen and he was seventeen. None of the glow, the round cheeks, the wide doe eyes.
There’s dark circles chiseled into your face, so dark he almost thinks they’re bruises. A couple of IV bags run through a drip hidden under bandages covering your arms from wrist to elbow. Your eyes are as quiet as you are. A couple of marbles would be more lively. You look almost like a doll forgotten in a corner.
The nurse gave Ghost the run-down as she guided him to your bed. Police picked you up on a bridge trying to off yourself. Your fifth time this year. Unless you show some real improvement, the doctors will recommend an indefinite hospitalization.
You’ve been busy in the decade of his absence. Multiple addictions, more attempts than he can count, and some small stints in jail. A list of disorders he wouldn’t know how to pronounce. And nobody left to call.
Is this his fault?
When Ghost rounds the corner, you smile like he should be proud of you. “You came,” You say.
I have absolutely no business starting a new fic. Absolutely none. Idk. I have brainrot. No clue when this will be updated. But here, have it.
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dazed--xx · 9 months
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SKZ reaction: S/O has childhood trauma (Hyung Line)
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T/W: mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of abandonment, mentions of dead best friend, mentions of neglect, arguments, crying etc…
A/N: I’ll be posting the rest of the members soon then I will be posting the Jeongin angst request next then chapter 2 of one more time then I’ll start posting Cardinal, thank you so much for the support and requests are open
Chan: school bullying
“I JUST DON’T GET YOU!!” He shouted, veins popping out of his neck as he stared at you in anger. Your bottom lip trembled between your teeth as you held onto your weak figure. You couldn’t even figure out what set Chan off, but he was utterly pissed. “Chan what are you talking about? That’s all I’ve been trying to figure out why are you yelling at me?” You exclaim after 30 minutes of his ranting your voice shaky, eyes burning from tears as your boyfriend spewed venom in your direction about how inconsiderate and disrespectful you are. He growls as he pulls a magazine out from the coffee table you had never noticed he had placed there. “Stray Kids Chan GF sends threatening messages to old schoolmates?!” The headline reads. Your eyes widen in shock “C-Chan I can explain this!” You defend yourself. “Explain? How the hell do you expect to explain this?! How can you justify any of this? You called my fan a hopeless despicable piece of crap and that she deserves the shitty life she lives now! How can you sit there and act like that’s not a problem!” He growled, tossing his phone across the room the case shattering as it hit the wall.
A panicked squeal is released from your throat as your hands cover your ears and you drop to the ground. You head shakes rapidly as you stared at your boyfriend. “You’re irresponsible and completely fucking stupid to do something like this! What the hell went through your head?! Did you even think?” He continues, your anger bubbling up in your stomach as he continues to throw harsh insults toward you. “ITS WHAT SHE FUCKING DESERVED! HOW DARE SOMEONE THAT FUCKING TORTURED ME FOR YEARS!!! YEARS OF MY LIFE! SHE DESTROYED MY SELF ESTEEM, SHE HAD ME LOCKED IN A STORAGE CLOSET FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND! SHE CUT MY HAIR AND MY ARMS AND THEN TOLD THE COUNSELORS I WAS SUICIDAL SO ID GET LOCKED IN A PSYCH WARD! SO YEAH, I FUCKING SAID WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY WHEN SHE TEXTED ME ASKING ME FOR MONEY! MONEY TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH I OWE HER MY LIFE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO KILL ME BUT DIDN’T BECAUSE SHE FIGURED ID BE USEFUL LATER IN LIFE! SO, FUCK YOU BANG CHAN! YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED! YOU DIDN’T CARE SO YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF ALONG WITH YOUR LITTLE FAN THAT THREATENED ME AGAIN!” You snap, venom spewing toward him as he stood there his mouth hung open in shock as guilt filled his eyes. “Babe…” he called an apology on the tip of his tongue as he made his way across the room “I-I didn’t know—y-you never told me—I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry” he cried as you held your hand up toward him stopping his march in your direction “Please just…just give me a second I thought out of anyone in this world if anyone would understand anything it would be you but you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you what I did literally last night. And I just I can’t believe you would say those things about me please Chris just—just leave me alone for a bit” you explained tiredly as you made your way to your bedroom leaving your boyfriend in the living room with guilt plastered on his features and sadness in his heart.
Minho:death of best friend
“I-Is it nearby or do we have to keep going?” Minho questions, you could feel his nerves from beside him as you point to a small light a few yards away. “It’s at that light” you smile at him gripping his hand. You felt nervous, you’ve never brought anyone here, to your safe space. You stare at the man beside you, your heart races at how ethereal and beautiful he truly was. You’ve never known anyone so understanding, so deeply determined to get to know you for you. You couldn’t understand him at first but now as you stare at him you can. You can understand the want; the yearning feeling of wanting to know every single thing about someone you love. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel Minho’s arm wrap around your shoulders pulling you into him. “You okay, precious?” He questions, concern laced in his tone as a pout form on his lips. You nod a small smile form on your lips “I’m okay…… just lucky to have you” you confess as your hand wraps around his pulling him toward your destination.
A small giggle is released from Minho’s lips as his legs speed up to keep up with your pace. Finally, you reach the small angel light seated on top of a marble headstone. Your smile grows wider as Minho kneels in-front of the stone placing a page of sheet music, “your song is beautiful” he states “I hope you don’t mind that you don’t mind that I sang it to Y/N, so she’d go out with me. It really spoke to me and explained how I feel about her.” He apologizes softly. “O-Oh! I’m Lee Minho, I forgot to tell you who I am.” You stare at your best friend's grave. “He’d be happy you came honestly I talk about you all the time.” You confess. “Is it inappropriate for me to ask where his family is?” Minho questions. “His mother still comes to see him every day. His dad can’t.” You explain, as you look at your boyfriend “too much guilt, me and his dad were the ones that found him” Minhos eyebrows scrunch together in confusion “H-how did you say he died again?” You shook your head “I didn’t. He committed…you know when we were 14. He had gotten into this huge fight with his dad about wanting to go to a music high school and came to my house crying when his parents showed up to my place he just disappeared, and we found him a week later in our clubhouse in my backyard. I could have sworn I checked there every day until we found him but yeah.”
You feel a strong hand gripping yours as you eye your boyfriend “I’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s going to be okay with me, so I’ll come see you again. And if you want, I’ll make sure your music gets heard. I-I’m an idol I can do that for you, my leader Chan really liked your song. We’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.” He states to your friends' grave as pride swells in your chest. “Thank you for coming with me” you state with a peck to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me” he beams at you.
Changbin: neglect
“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal?” Changbin questions his tone laced with sadness as a sigh is released from your throat. “I just don’t like my family Bin, they’re not good people and to know that they tracked you down makes me extremely uncomfortable.” Your voice is shaky as the memories come flooding back into your brain. “What happened?” His voice is only barely above a whisper as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into his strong figure. “They’re just not good people. Please understand that at least.” You groan your hand rubbing against his forearms. “If you’re not ready to tell me that’s fine babe I just want to make sure they didn’t hurt you. T-they didn’t hurt you right?” He asks almost as if the answer would hurt him. The question left you puzzled. Did they hurt you……… Not physically, they’d have to actually be around for you to be physically hurt; no, you weren’t beaten by your parents. Sure, they rarely were home, but they never laid a hand on you. For a while you and your birth givers were quite…. cohesive. They’d leave enough food for you to make sure you didn’t die, nothing that was hugely sustainable, but you had been able to figure it out. From a young age, you knew how to shop for your own groceries, make money, apply for government assistance and just get by. You were sustainably independent all from the ripe age of 6 years old. Honestly you couldn’t for a moment remember a single conversation with your parents where you weren’t reminded of how unimportant you were in their lives.
You shook your head after some time. “Not physically no” your eyes drift to the ground. You feel your hair being brushed to the side as Changbin placed his chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to….” His grip on you tightens “I love you; you know that right?” You nod in response “I love you too, but I want to tell you. They just didn’t really act like I existed; they made sure I had just enough food to not die but nothing enough to actually help me feel okay. When I turned 6, they just stopped coming home every night and I’d see them once a week maybe…. I don’t know I just—they made sure I knew that I was a mistake I guess and I just kind of figured everything out on my own.” You confess. Your head hung low as your boyfriend rubbed your hair. You could hear his breathing grow heavy as his grip on you tightens “well you’re not a mistake to me, I love you so much and I’m happy that I have you and you have me too, okay? I will never hurt you in anyway” he declares pressing his lips against the back of your head as you nuzzle against his strong frame.
Hyunjin: abandonment
“Come on! Please just talk to me” Hyunjin pleas behind your front door. You sat with your blood boiling; arms crossed over your chest at his nerve; the audacity of this man to have disappeared for 5 months only to try to saunter back into your life like nothing happened. The fact that he couldn’t answer your calls or texts nor the final voicemail you had left for him ending your 2-year relationship said everything about how he feels. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why he finally decided your presence was once again needed. The pounding on the door intensifies as your nerves grow weaker and weaker. With a growl to yourself you force yourself up from your seat in your couch and stomp your way over to your door, forcing it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. “What?! What could you possibly want?!” You snap, you notice the guilt and sorrow all over his features. His lips formed into a pout as he reached out for you only for you to slap his hands away. “I asked you a question, Hyunjin” your eyes form into a scowl as you cross your arms over your chest as you glare at your ex. “Babe…come on—don’t call me that!” You growl.
The look on Hyunjins face is almost as heartbreaking as his abandonment. “W-what?! Babe please let’s just talk about this! I just heard your voicemail. I’m sorry I’m so sorry please I don’t want to break up!” He pleads upon deaf ears; you scoff in response “you should have thought about that before you disappeared for 5 months Hyunjin. Doing whatever the fuck you were doing!” “I WAS ON TOUR! You figured that out at some point, right?” He argues “yeah… through fucking dispatch I found out you were in America after 3 MONTHS! 3 MONTHS OF NO CLUE WHAT WAS GOING ON! 3 MONTHS OF COMPLETE AND UTTER CONFUSION HYUNJIN!!—Sshhh please don’t be so loud” he cuts you off gesturing you to go into your apartment, his hands firm on your waist shoving you softly back. Your hands find their way to his chest as you shove him out the door. “No! You don’t get to come in here! You don’t get to waltz back into my life after I’ve already became okay with you not being in it anymore! You’re just like my parents; you used me up until I had nothing left to offer you then you just tossed me to the side like I am nothing! Well, I do mean something, and you can’t just abandon me and then show up when it’s convenient for you! I’m tired of shit like that happening and I won’t allow YOU to do that to me!” You growl. Tears stream down Hyunjins face “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I-I know it doesn’t mean anything but please know I thought about you the whole time I begged my manager for a new phone so I could call you because I left mine here! Please don’t break up with me I want to be with you!” He cries as he dropped to his knees his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your stomach “I’d never abandon you! I could never abandon you I love you I love you so much please I didn’t know what your parents did I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry” you stared at the man whose heart lay on the floor. With gritted teeth you sigh “fine come inside but don’t think I’m not still mad at you” he nods quickly hoping to his feet before wrapping his hand around yours pulling you into his large frame. You feel butterflies as the familiar feeling of his soft plush lips connected with yours, putting every ounce of emotion into his kiss. Your cheeks grow a bright scarlet as he pulls away, a small smile creeps on your lips. “Still mad?” He questions jokingly. You scowl at him “don’t push it.”
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endthedream · 5 months
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impress him
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pairing: kindergarten teacher!sunoo x kindergarten teacher!y/n (she/her)
summary: Having a crush isn’t easy, especially when he has a naturally flirty personality. But luckily you have friend that has a great plan on how to impress your crush and get him to like you back.
words: 6.7k
story color: dark orange
warnings: mention of dead parents (very short and quick tho)
note: a little cute story for you :) I’m actually quite happy with how it turned out and I hope you like it too!!!!
masterlist of ‘enhypen as jobs’
Sunoo.
You can’t remember when or how you developed a crush on him. It all happened quickly, like a train passing by on a rainy day. With one blink of your eyes, one beat of your heart, one breath in your lungs, suddenly all you could think about was him. Night and day, first thing when you wake up in the morning and last thing when you fall asleep late at night. Your mind is filled with him, his smile, his laugh, his eyes, his mouth.
And watching him right now sitting at a table with two of your other colleagues, laughing and talking, drives a knife right through your heart, twists it and leaves you bleeding.
Sunoo has always had a flirty personality, compliments flying left and right when you spend time with him. It’s part of him to wink at everyone after saying yet another flirty comment, or placing his hand on peoples’ shoulders when he laughs. And you know he never means it serious. That’s just the way he is, the way he always has been. But it bothers you, because you don’t know what it means when he does those things with you. You don’t know if he sees you as just a friend, or more. You don’t even know if he could ever consider you as anything more than what you already are.
“Maybe you should stop staring at him because it’s slowly getting creepy.”, Jungwon, another one of your colleagues and your closest friends, says with a teasing grin on his face. He knows about your crush, because while you succeed in hiding it from Sunoo, everyone else in your life has guessed it after just spending a few hours with you. “I still don’t get why you don’t just go and confess to him.”
“Because…”, you answer, a sigh escaping your lips as you divert your gaze away from your crush and look at your friend instead. “The possibility of him rejecting me is pretty high. And we work together, every single day. I don’t want it to get awkward or make him feel uncomfortable.”
“Did you ever think about the possibility of him returning your feelings?” A laugh bubbles out of your throat after your friends’ question. Of course, you have. You have thought about Sunoo liking you back, but you quickly threw those thoughts away. Never has he shown any signs of feeling the same thing. He has always treated you the way he treats everyone else as well, there is nothing special there. And yet you still get your hopes up every single time he looks at you.
“Yeah, no. Jungwon I don’t think he likes me back.” Your friend blows out a breath before taking his phone out, typing furiously. “What are you doing?”
“I am searching for something.” A few seconds pass with your friends’ eyes skipping over his phone, typing every now and then before scrolling again. You wait patiently, stabbing at the food on your plate every now and then, eyes drifting to a certain someone more times than you want to admit. It’s hard not to look at him, to get engrossed with him. He is so captivating, his beauty lighting up the whole room. He has a presence that shines brighter than the sun. “There you go.”
Jungwon lays his phone down on the table, turning it around so you can see the things he has typed down in his notes. “How to impress your crush. Really, Jungwon? This is what you wrote down for the past few minutes?”
“This is a good plan, Y/n. You want Sunoo to like you, don’t you?” You nod your head carefully, eyes flickering to said boy just to see him already looking at you. He shows you one of his bright smiles, before looking at the people sitting at his table again. “Then just follow these steps and I promise you, by the end of the month Sunoo is going to be madly in love with you.”
1. Learn your crushes interests
Breathe in, breathe out, you repeat to yourself as you enter the kindergarten you work in. Just breathe and everything will be alright. But as soon as you see Sunoo sitting at a table with two children, your mind already begins to panic again. Seeing Sunoo with little kids has never been easy to you, melting at the gentle way he was playing with them. The children look up to him, idolize him, obsess over him. You get them, honestly, because you aren’t any different.
Jungwon and you spent the last two days gathering information on Sunoos interests, thinking of any possible way of engaging in those interests, figuring out how to approach him without being too obvious.
Upon seeing you, a bright smile appears on the boy’s face. Sunoo makes a move to stand up, to greet you, but the small child in front of him pulls him down again, complaining about not being done playing the game with him. You just show him an understanding smile, before putting your things down and starting to prepare breakfast for the kids.
“You need help with that?”, you hear a voice behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. You look up to see Sunoo standing beside you, gentle smile on his face.
“Oh, yeah, sure. You can cut the carrots if you want to.” He nods happily, grabbing a knife and doing your assignments immediately. Your gaze shifts to him every now and then, your head spinning with possible topics to start a conversation between the two of you. But every time you open your mouth to say something, your body stops you and you end up biting the words on your tongue.
“You look really tired today.”, Sunoo says, breaking the silence between the two of you. “I don’t mean that in a mean way, you still look beautiful, Y/n. I just want to ask if everything’s okay?”
Your cheeks turn into a faded shade of crimson, and you have to tell yourself to keep calm, before answering his question. “Yeah, uhm, I’m fine. I just stayed up the whole night watching a K-Drama and didn’t get much sleep.”
“A K-Drama?” A gasp escapes the boys’ lips, and his wide eyes look excitedly into yours. You smile at him, mimicking his excitement. “I love K-Dramas. I always watch them; I mean there is not a day going by where I am not watching one. What did you watch yesterday?”
“I finished watching 21st century girl.” Another gasp leaves Sunoos’ lips and you can’t help the chuckle that escapes you this time, enjoying his reactions.
“How did you like it? I cried my eyes out when I first watched it. I mean, I always cry whenever I watch it.”
“Yeah, I cried too. That’s another reason why I couldn’t sleep last night. I just kept on thinking about it and whenever I did the tears just streamed down my face. I couldn’t even stop it anymore.” Sunoo laughs slightly, nodding his head at your words.
“Yeah, I get what you mean. I’ve been there too. Do you watch a lot of K-Dramas or is it something you recently started doing?” A bright smile lights up your face. He is asking you questions about yourself. He is actually showing interest in you. Maybe Jungwons’ plan wasn’t so bad after all.
“Honestly, I just started getting into it. I’m currently trying to get through all the ones available on Netflix and I am honestly starting to get obsessed. Like what are they putting into those shows to make them so addicting?”
“Yeah, right? It’s like once you started watching K-Dramas, you can’t escape them anymore.” Sunoo turns his body to you after cutting the last carrot, hip leaning against the counter. “If you want to, I can make you a list with good ones to watch. I think I am an expert at this point, judging by the number of dramas I watched so far.”
“Oh, yeah that would be so nice of you, Sunoo.”, you tell him honestly. Your eyes meet his for a second, but you can’t face him for a long time. He stands so close to you, eyes not leaving your face for a second. It makes you flustered, lets you feel exposed under his burning gaze. That’s the effect he has on you. It’s easy for him to get you flustered, make you a stuttering self-conscious mess.
“I will get to it as soon as I’m home, I promise.”
-
There is a process between you and Sunoo, it’s small, but it’s there. Every break the two of you sit together, talking about one of the dramas he recommended, gossiping about characters and philosophizing about the deeper meanings, the hidden messages. You laugh, you smile, you grow. But it is still not enough, not enough to confess, and not enough to know if he feels the same about you.
But luckily you overheard a conversation Sunoo had with one of the other colleagues, talking about foods, snacks, desserts. So, it really wasn’t a surprise that you showed up the next day with his favorite ice cream in your back.
“Is that mint chocolate ice cream?” You smile at Sunoos question, seeing that your plan succeeded. You turn around to him, ice cream still in your hand, cocking your head at the boy in front of you.
“Yeah. Why? Do you also like it?”
“Like it? That doesn’t even come close. I love it.” He shows you a bright smile, eyes gleaming like those of a little child in a toy shop. “I didn’t think I would meet another person that likes mint chocolate. Every single one of my friends hates it. They make fun of me all the time for eating it.”
“Doesn’t sound like your friends have taste, because mint chocolate is an amazing flavor.” Sunoo nods in agreement, softly laughing at your statement. “I guess I found myself a new person to share this ice cream with. I can never finish this whole bowl by myself.” Taking out two spoons, you reach your arm out to offer him one of them. He happily takes it, sitting down right beside you, so close you almost forget how to breathe for a few seconds.
“I guess I found myself a new favorite colleague.”
2. Engage in more conversations
You curse under your breath as you read Jungwons’ message telling you the next step of your plan. Until now Sunoo started almost all the conversations with you. It isn’t like you don’t want to talk to him, there is nothing you want more, you just don’t know how. As soon as you stand in front of him, looking into his beautiful eyes, hearing his breathtaking voice, your brain stops working, your mouth loses the ability to form sentences and your breath only comes in rapid hiccups. It’s embarrassing, awkward, humiliating. That’s why you have been avoiding starting any conversation, but there is no way around it anymore. If you really want him to like you, to be intrigued by you, you have to make more first steps. This being the first one.
“Y/n, you came” Sunoo exclaims as he sees you enter the apartment of one of his friends. Two days ago, you found out that Sunoo and Jungwon have a shared friend named Jake, and that said friend just moved into town a few days prior. Jake decided to throw a little party for him and his friends, asking them to invite them their friends as well. Jungwon immediately sent you a text, informing you of the party and asking you to tag along with him. At first you were opposed, not being the type to go to parties or even socialize with anyone that wasn’t in your close friend group, but when Jungwon told you that Sunoo was also going to be there, you immediately agreed to come with him.
“Hey Sunoo.” You ignore Jungwons teasing chuckle behind you at the crack of your voice and show Sunoo a charming smile instead. “You look great.”
“Thank you, Y/n, that’s so nice of you.” Sunoos’ smile turns your stomach around, shakes it and drops it to the floor. Fogginess covers your brain, and you have to blink a few times to make sure you don’t drift back into the awkwardness you adapt as a habit whenever Sunoo speaks to you. “How about I show you around a bit? Jake is busy trying to figure out how to open a Champagne bottle, so we have some time before he will want to meet you.”
You nod at him, smiling brightly, and nervously taking his outstretched hand. You almost forgot Jungwon was still standing behind you, but quickly get reminded as he gives you a small nudge in Sunoos’ direction, making you stumble forward. Giving Jungwon a stern, but yet slightly appreciative look for bringing your back into reality, you follow Sunoo around the apartment. He shows you the bedroom, the bathroom, living room, kitchen and lastly the balcony. It’s where the two of you stop, taking in the view of the bright stars in the night sky.
“I used to always watch the stars with my mom.”, you start speaking, gathering all your nerves before continuing with your story. “My mom was obsessed with stars, their alignments, their meanings. She would tell me about all the constellations. When my dad passed away, she would always tell me that he is up there now, in the stars. That he is the brightest star in the night sky, watching over us every single hour of the day, even when we can’t see him. I would spend hours staring up at the stars, talking to the brightest one thinking it was my dad. I told him about my day, my thoughts, my worries and dreams.” Sunoo listens to you attentively, eyes never leaving your face while yours are focused at the million little lights shining in the sky.
“I really thought it was real, you know. I still think so. Every now and then I still talk to him, to his star, and I tell him about my life.” You smile to yourself, searching for the star in the sky and when you find it, you can’t help the sigh of relief escaping your lips. “I believe it because when my mom passed away a few years later, a star appeared right beside the one of my dad. I like to think that it’s them, watching over me. That even death couldn’t bring them apart.”
“Wow.”, Sunoo says, eyes not being able to leave your face. He can’t help the emotions he is feeling, sadness, grief, compassion, admiration. “Thank you for sharing this beautiful story with me. And I believe so too.” Sunoo scoots a bit closer to you, following your gaze up into the sky. “I think they are watching over you right now and I think that they are proud of the person you became, proud of every single thing you achieved so far.”
You smile softly, swallowing the tears that threaten to fall down on your cheeks. “Thank you, Sunoo. God, this means so much to me.” But before any of you can say anything a voice calls out to Sunoo, asking him to come in again.
“Guess Jake needs my help. Sorry we have to cut this short, but I really enjoyed spending more time with you, Y/n. I feel like I learn something new about you every single day.”
-
“No, Dylan. It’s not nice to take away someone else’s toy. How would you feel if someone took away your teddy bear?” The little boy in front of you sniffles a few times, wiping his eyes as small little tears roll down his cheek. This was the fourth time that he was taking away other kids toys and no matter how often you tell him to stop it, trying to get him to understand that it hurts the other children when he does that, he never seems to understand it. And while you know such behavior is a call for attention, it still frustrates you to tell him the same thing over and over again.
“You wouldn’t like that as well, right? That’s why you shouldn’t do it to the other children here as well. They want to play with the toys just as much as you do.” The little boy seems to only cry harder as your words, and you feel the patience running out of your system. Watching the whole encounter from further away, Sunoo sees you struggling. He sees that you need help.
“Dylan, come here.” The little boy waddles over to Sunoo, taking a seat on the older boys’ lap, looking at him with his big doe eyes. “You know what happens when you take someone’s toy away?” The little boy shakes his head. “It hurts the other person’s feelings. You take away something that brought them a lot of joy, and for a moment you take that joy away. That isn’t nice, is it?”
Sunoo gently wipes away his tears, showing him a soft encouraging smile. “Next time instead of stealing a toy from somehow, how about you ask them if you can have that toy? And if they say no, you can either wait until they are done playing with that toy, or you can ask them if they have another toy you can play with until they are done. How does that sound? Is that a good compromise?” Dylan nods his head, a small smile appearing on the boy’s face. “Thank you for listening and thank you for agreeing to the compromise. You can go back to playing now.”
You shake your head as you step closer to Sunoo. It never fails to impress you just how good Sunoo is with kids, always knowing the right things to say, always having a solution to every problem. “How are you so good with kids? Do you have younger siblings? A niece? A nephew?”
Sunoo chuckles at your words, shrugging his shoulders. “Nope, I have an older sister. That’s it.” He stands up again, dusting off his pants. “I guess I’ve just always been good with kids. I always wanted to work with them, and of course have some when I’m older.”
“You are going to be an amazing dad.” Those words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them, and as soon as they are out in the open, you drop your head in your hands with a groan, too embarrassed to look at the boy in front of you.
“Hey, no need to be embarrassed about your words.” Sunoo lays a comforting hand on your shoulder, not knowing that his touch is making it worse for you. “I really appreciate your words. You don’t know how much they mean to me.”
You just nod at him, head still buried in your hands, waiting for the blood that rushed into your cheeks to fade again. “Y/n.”, he calls out your name, lifting your head with his fingers, so you can’t do anything but to look at him. “I think that you are going to be an amazing mother as well.”
3. Make them laugh
Humor hasn’t been your greatest strength so far. You have always been too awkward to perform a joke with confidence, to make the whole room laugh or even slightly snicker at things you say. Jungwon swears you are one of the funniest people he has ever met, you think that he is biased and that it doesn’t count since he is your close friend and Sunoo is your crush. You could never joke with Sunoo the way you do with him.
Jungwon also told you to maybe search up a few jokes you think Sunoo would like and drop them at a random- fitting- time. You emphasized that it wouldn’t end well, that you would turn the situation awkward, the way you always do. But Jungwon just said to be confident, to trust in yourself and the process you made so far with Sunoo. Easier said than done, because while you stand beside him in the kitchen of the kindergarten, preparing their lunch, you find no right way to tell any of the jokes you spent hours trying to remember the whole night.
“You want to hear a joke?” Stupid. That was definitely the worst approach for this. Straight up asking him wasn’t what you had in mind, not at all. You wanted to be smooth about it, waiting for the right time. But as the right time never came, you got nervous. And the more nervous you get, the more likely you forget every piece of information in your head, including the jokes.
“Sure, why not? I always like a good joke.”
“I can’t promise you it’s good. All I can tell you is that they made me chuckle.” Sunoo turns his body to you, a sign you learned that shows you he is putting all his attention on you. You take a deep breath, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. “How do you make an eggroll? You push it.”
Silence. Gruesome silence fills the space for a few seconds, and you know this was it. You just ripped apart the small chance you had with Sunoo, with one joke. Everything you worked on for the past weeks, you just tossed out of the window in not even ten seconds. You make yourself ready to dig a grave and bury yourself deep in it, never ever showing your face to anyone again. But before you can do that, a laugh tumbles out of the boy’s throat. An actual laugh, and it grows the more time passes. All you can do is watch him with wide eyes and mouth hung open.
Sunoo holds his stomach, wiping his eyes as he still laughs at your joke. “That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard.” He still lets out a few giggles, tipping his head back. Sunoo takes a few breaths, trying to calm himself down before facing you again. “Please tell me you have more of those jokes.”
You nod at him, still not processing the scene in front of you. But when you realize Sunoo is watching you with expecting eyes, you snap yourself out of your haze, telling him another joke you learned. “What do lawyers wear to court? Lawsuits.” And yet again the boy in front of you breaks out into another fit of laughter, but this time you join in, slightly chuckling at your own joke.
-
It has become a thing between the two of you. Whenever Sunoo needed to hear a joke, he would ask you to tell him one and proceed to laugh at it just the way he did the first time. Your confidence grew the more jokes you told, getting bolder and bolder with them. And Sunoo seems to love it, since he searches for you more often the past few days.
“I had the worst day.”, he says after the last parent left the kindergarten with their child. “First of all, I overslept today, and came way too late as you probably noticed. Then, as a punishment I got assigned to clean pretty much everything, but guess what, three children decided to throw up today and I had to clean it up. And to top that, I just got into an argument with a parent, because apparently their child isn’t getting educated probably in this kindergarten? Like excuse me, we are a kindergarten not a school. Your children aren’t here to learn math or geometry, they are here to play, make friends and prepare themselves for school.”
Sunoo drops his head on your shoulder. He has also been getting bolder when it comes to initiating physical touch with you. He is a very touchy person, you’ve seen it with his other friends, but noticing that he is adapting those same habits with you only shows you the progress you have been making. “I really, really need to hear one of your jokes right now.”
You smile at him, softly patting his head, but putting your hand down quickly after again. You have to hold yourself back from not engaging in those small touches, not wanting to overwhelm him or overstep any of his boundaries. “Okay, let me think about one.” Sunoo lifts his head again, looking at you with waiting eyes. “Why didn’t Han Solo enjoy his steak dinner? It was Chewie.”
And this moment right there, this short, sweet moment, is your favorite part. The moment when you can hear the soft sound of Sunoos’ laughter, the sweet melody filling your ears, warming you with the soft touch of joy. You can’t get enough of his laughter, wanting to hear it every single second of the day.
“How can you get better with every joke you are telling?”, he speaks between laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, Y/n, you really do make my days so much better.”
4. Make subtle hints
After all those weeks, engaging into more conversations with Sunoo, getting to know him more and making him laugh countless times, you feel a lot more confident about the next step than you thought you would. Making hints, showing him, you are interested in him, doesn’t seem so frightening anymore. It suddenly seems so easy, as if you have been doing it all along already.
“I told you that you can do it.”, Jungwon exclaims, a bit too loudly, catching the looks of a few people around you in the small café the two of you decided to meet up. “I told you the list was going to work.”
“Hold your horses.”, you say, shaking your head at the boy in front of you. “Yes, we did grow closer, but nothing happened as well. I still don’t know if Sunoo likes me, or if he just thinks we are friends. I can’t be sure until he has told me.”
“You can be so stupid sometimes.” You frown at the words of your friend, not knowing what he means with that statement. “Come on, everyone can see from miles away how Sunoo is pinning over you. It’s extremely obvious.”
“You are reaching with that, Jungwon.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. Normally you appreciate Jungwon for feeding into your delusions, supporting your wishes, and routing for you and Sunoo, but with the real progress you made lately, this isn’t something you want to hear anymore. You want the truth, the honest truth. You don’t want the mindless support anymore; you want him to keep it real with you. “If he likes me back, I would have noticed that by now. And I haven’t. He isn’t even showing me any signs. Sunoo is treating me like he is treating his close friends.”
“You are so blind.” Ignoring that last comment, you take a bite of your cake, sighing at the familiar taste. “I still wish you luck with this step, Y/n. Let’s pray and hope you won’t embarrass yourself too much and ruin the chance you have with him.”
-
Sunoo smiles at you as he watches you enter the room again after leaving to put a band aid on a girl’s finger. It’s a Friday afternoon, twenty minutes before the parents are going to pick up their children. And you think it’s the perfect time to shoot your shot, to make the first move subtly hinting your crush to Sunoo.
“What are your plans for this fine Friday afternoon?”, you ask Sunoo as you both start packing your bags, ready to head home. “I planned on spending the night on the couch, watch one of the dramas you recommended to me earlier and enjoy a nice bowl of mint chocolate ice cream. And I thought that maybe you would like to join me?” Your heart is racing faster than a car on the highway, ringing loudly through your ears.
“That sounds like an amazing plan to spend the night.”, Sunoo says and for a moment you think he will take up on your offer, but when you see the sad smile on his face, you brace yourself for rejection. “I would love nothing more than to join you tonight, but I promised Jake I would hang out with him tonight. Him and his girlfriend broke up recently and he really needs some distraction.”
“Oh.”, you say, nodding your head at him. “Yeah, no, I totally understand that. I hope Jake feels better soon. You are a great friend for being there for him in such a time.”
Sunoo sighs at your words, ruffling his hair softly. “How about we do that next weekend? I am free then.”
“Next weekend? Yeah, of course. We can do that.” Hope fills your veins again, spreading through your whole body. And you forget the disappointment that lingered inside you just a moment ago.
“Great. Then that’s a date.”
-
Sitting beside Sunoo on your couch, in your apartment, in front of your tv, is definitely something that will take you a while to get used to. It’s so foreign seeing him in sweatpants, his hair falling softly onto his forehead and his face rid of any makeup. You swallow the lump in your throat and force your gaze away from him and back to the drama on the tv.
“God, they are so cute.”, Sunoo says after a while, watching the couple in the drama hold hands for the first time, shy and flustered. “This is the kind of love I want; you know? It’s so sweet and innocent. It’s so pure.”
You smile at his words, nodding your head softly, agreeing with his statement. “Yeah, me too. I love how soft dramas portray love. It’s so different from American dramas.”
“Yeah, I agree.” Sunoos’ eyes are trained to the tv, immersed into every single detail, not wanting to miss even a second. “This is the kind of love I want to give as well. I know I’m capable of this, but I just have to find the right person.”
“I think you would be an amazing boyfriend.”, you tell him, honestly. “The person who will call you their boyfriend in the future will be the luckiest person on this planet to have scored someone so kind and compassionate as you. Everyone deserves a Sunoo in their lives.” This is probably the boldest thing you said to him. And you are not sure where it came from, how you got the confidence to say what you said. But Sunoo seems to appreciate your words, showing you the softest, sweetest, smile he has ever given you. And you swear, you even see a faint hint of blush on his cheeks.
5. Be yourself
Be yourself.
Be yourself.
Be yourself.
You keep on repeating to yourself. This has to be the hardest step yet. You don’t know how to be yourself. You don’t even know how you are if you are being honest with yourself.
You don’t know how you want to live, how to find your flaws and your strengths, how to build up a security in yourself. How can you be yourself when you don’t even know yourself? Does Sunoo know who you are? You have been getting closer, opened up to each other, shared secrets in the whisper of the night, wishes as the gloomy sun filled up the sky with its light. But does he know you? Does he know what you are, who you are, where you are?
How can he know it when you don’t?
It’s been bothering you, day and night, robbing you from your sleep and stealing your appetite. You can’t stop thinking, obsessing. But no matter how much time you invest into thinking, you never seem to be getting an answer.
But spending so much time thinking also meant you started distancing yourself. Especially from Sunoo. You don’t know how you can engage in the last step, to ask him out, if you don’t know the simple answer to who you are. You think that Sunoo deserves a securer version of you, the person who knows what she wants, knows where her strengths lie. He doesn’t deserve the insecure, overthinking version of yourself that you are right now. So, you thought it would be for the best if you just distanced yourself from him, at least until you figured everything out.
But Sunoo doesn’t like that at all. He started worrying about you, but every time he tried asking you, you dodged him. And while he wants to give you your space, he can’t stop himself from worrying even more. Has he done something wrong? Did he say anything, do anything, that hurt you, that made you distance yourself from him?
He can’t take it anymore. He can’t keep watching you from a distance, hoping you would just tell him what’s wrong. He needs answers, and he needs them now. So, when the last parent leaves, Sunoo grabs your arm and pulls you into the break room.
“I know you probably need your space right now and the last thing you want is to talk to me, but I can’t take this anymore. Can you please just tell me what I did wrong for you to completely pull away from me? Did I hurt you?”
“Oh, God, Sunoo. No, you didn’t.” You shake your head hastily. When you started taking some space from Sunoo, all you thought about was getting a clear mind space first, getting answers before confessing to him. But you never thought of how Sunoo might feel. It didn’t cross your mind once that he could think it is his fault, that he would care so much. “Please don’t worry. This has nothing to do with you. I’m just not in the right mind, and I have a lot to think about.”
“Well, but it feels like it has to do with me, because you are normal with everyone else. You talk to all the colleagues the way you normally do, but it is me that you act different with.” You sigh as you hear his words, not ready for this conversation. This is the last thing you wanted to do today, not prepared for what is about to come. You didn’t think of the right words, the heartfelt message, the longing feelings.
“I can’t talk about this right now, Sunoo. If you just give me a bit more time, a few more days, then we can talk about all this.” But Sunoo isn’t listening to you, he just shakes his head, a long sigh slipping past the boy’s lips.
“But I can’t wait a few more days, Y/n. It’s already been days. I want to know now. It’s keeping me up at night, it’s driving me crazy. It hurts my heart just thinking about the possibility that I might have hurt you, drove you away. Please, just tell me. Whatever it is, I swear we can fix this. You have become such an important person in my life, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you, Y/n.”
“I like you.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. “I like you, Sunoo. I have for a while now. And I was trying to think of a way to confess to you, a way to find myself, to give you the best version of myself.”
“That’s it?”, Sunoo chuckles, shoulders lifting, and face overcome with amusement. “That’s why you have been avoiding me?” You nod your head carefully, scared of his next words. “I knew, Y/n. I’ve known it for a while now.”
“You knew?”, you ask him, eyes bulging out of your head.
“Yeah, I mean you haven’t been subtle about it. Especially lately. Don’t think I didn’t notice you picking up my interests, talking more to me and flirting with me.” You look to the floor, embarrassment evident on your face. This is it, your end, your misery. This is the part where you will get the rejection of your life. This is the part where you have to quit your job, because you will never be able to face Sunoo ever again in your life. You wait for it. You wait for the bomb to drop on you, to rip open your heart, to put a knife in it and twist it until it bleeds out. But it never comes. The bomb never explodes, and the knife never enters your heart. “I mean why else do you think I have been flirting back, engaging in all your little tries?”
“What?” Is all that leaves your mouth.
“Yeah, I like you back, Y/n. I have for the longest time. And I was so happy when you showed interest in me. I was always too shy to make a move on you, scared you would reject me. But when you started staring at me more, and when I noticed how you completely changed how you approach me, I knew that you like me back. That’s why I have been so bold as well. I thought that if I touch you more, or invite you to more hangouts, you will get the hints, but apparently that didn’t work out as planned.”
“You like me back?”
Sunoo laughs at your words, nodding his head and gently taking one of your hands in his, giving it a soft squeeze. “Yes, I like you back.” You just stare at him, not believing the words leaving his mouth. You followed this whole plan, for weeks, just to find out that Sunoo liked you all along. It’s almost funny, and you almost laugh at how absurd this all his. But you don’t because you remember that you still haven’t really said anything to him. “Aren’t you going to ask me out?”
“Yes, sorry, yes. I’m sorry, I’m still processing your words.” Taking a few breaths, you can’t fight the smile on your lips as you look at your intertwined hands. “Sunoo, would you like to go on an official date with me?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Bonus
“I still can’t believe the two of you actually ended up with each other. I still remember Sunoo going on and on about his crush on Y/n.”, Jake says, making you all laugh softly at his words.
“I always knew.”, Jungwon turns in, making you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I saw the way they looked at each other when the other one wasn’t watching, and I just knew they liked each other. And I overheard Sunoo talking to Jake about his crush on Y/n.”
“Wait, what?”, you exclaim, voice raising in more confusion. “You knew this the whole time? You knew Sunoo liked me and you didn’t tell me? You knew he liked me, and you still let me follow that stupid five step plan that YOU made for me?”
“Yep.”, Jungwon proudly says, showing you one of his wide grins.
“But why?”
“Wouldn’t it have been too easy if I just told you? I wanted to see you try, see you get out of your comfort zone. And I also wanted to have my own fun and believe me when I say I thoroughly enjoyed watching you get frustrated over every single little thing you said to Sunoo.” You gape at your friend, not believing the absurdity of this situation. But before you can complain to him, voice your anger at your friend’s disappointment in your suffering, he speaks up again. “But it worked, didn’t it? It took you longer, but it still worked out in the end.”
And you can’t disagree with him. Because it did work out. And you know it every single time you look at the boy who’s holding you in his arms. You know it from one single look that it worked out, that it was meant to be. And he knows it too, feels to, sees it every day.
It’s the kind of love he always wanted, the kind of love he dreamt of having, the kind of love he sees in all the dramas he watches. And now he has it. Now he has finally found his one person, the one person he always talked about.
He has found his soulmate, his love, his forever. Just like in the dramas. Only that it is so much better.
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