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hunnylagoon · 2 months

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The Killing Moon

PT2 The Colour Wars

Ellie Williams x Reader

It’s the perfect night for mystery and horror. The night itself is filled with monsters.

Premise: Summer camp feels a little different. Could it be newfound feelings for your friend or creatures beyond the imagination stalking you? Either way, it’s time to win the Colour Wars.

Warnings: Raunchy humour / mentions of cryptids / creepy?

PART ONE: Camp Spirit

Hope everything is alright with you because I'm so stressed that I may be spiralling into insanity at any moment. I understand that I'm an adult now but I too need someone to scream my frustration to until my lungs burn and I'm light-headed. "Hey, I'm having like super bad cramps and my flow is super heavy so I can't play this game."

I look at the girl in front of me, she's around fourteen if I had to guess and has two blonde French braids. We were in the middle of the first game of colour wars -the treasure hunt- and this girl was sporting a blue shirt, I didn't know her face nor was she on my team and I hadn't even noticed that she had been tagging along with my group for ten minutes. "Who are you?"

"Laila."

"Why are you here?" I ask but Laila only answers me with a shrug and a sneer "Never mind, I'm not your counsellor and I don't care, go to the nurses."

"Can I go to the nurses too?" Olive peeps up behind me "I think I have a scrape on my knee.":

"Don't we all?" I look back at her "We gotta win this game, we're so close," We were, mostly because every time the blue team gathered treasure I would send out feral kids to ambush them and bring it back to me "We're gonna have all the treasure we can carry." The objective was simple; The directors hid treasure (Cheap jewelry, hats, clothes from the old theatre program, etc.) across campgrounds and we had to source it out, whichever team came back to the sports field with more treasure won.

"We've been out here for hours," Morgan groaned, you'd think that these girls had been sent to war with the way they complained.

"It's only been forty-six minutes."

Olive took a seat on a rock, Leah doing the same, it didn't take long for each girl to have firmly planted themselves on the ground and refuse to get up. Valentina grabbed a stick and began to scratch drawings into the muddy ground.

"C'mon guys, there's like fifteen minutes left, and I know for a fact that there is still treasure to be found." I know how ridiculous I must've looked at that moment, I had been wearing a purple 'royal cape' that was pilling onto my T-shirt and a cheap dollar store crown that kept slipping off my head.

"I'm so bored," Chloe drew out.

"Because you're being boring!" I exasperate. Never had I ever had a cabin that was so apathetic and unenthusiastic, they were a stark contrast to last year when everyone had sunshine running through their veins and mud smeared across their faces; those pitch black summer nights live in my bones.

"This isn't fun, can we play something else?"

"No," I take a deep breath out, composing myself "You are at summer camp to be outdoors, you're developing important social, cognitive and emotional skills."

I'm met with blank stares from each and every girl sitting below me "I don't know what that means," Leslie said.

"It means we're going through puberty," Kim tells her.

"No," My eyes go wide "No, it means that you're figuring out who you are."

"Am I gonna get my period soon?" Valentina drops the stick from her tiny hands.

"Maybe- I don't know," I thew my hands out.

"What's a period?"

"It's where you bleed until you don't have any blood left and then you die," Kim says this so matter-of-factly like she has a degree in healthcare and has been teaching the health unit in PE for a decade.

"WHAT?" Chloe jumps up from her spot on the ground, looking around to see if she's already bleeding out.

"We're gonna die and you didn't tell us?" Leslie looks even more terrified than she did on the night of the camp legend.

Every girl was beginning to panic, fear was clear across their small faces. It's moments like these where I wish I was alone, maybe solo camping or back in my bedroom from high school, somewhere where only the moon knows how I rot and the sun knows how I yearn.

"Guys, calm down, a period isn't a bad thing and it won't hurt you," This was my attempt to soothe the ten-year-old girls who were contemplating how they would spend their last days on earth. The plastic crown slips off my head and I reach down to grab it and readjust it.

"Then why is it called a period if it doesn't end your life?" Kim asks, crossing her arms.

"I don't know but it doesn't end your life-

"Can we just go back to the soccer field until this game is over?" Tamar chimes in, looking like she rather be staring at cardboard boxes.

"Fine!" I finally gave in, gathering all of the treasure that once sat at my feet into my arms. The amount of treasure was almost overflowing, I had stolen a bunch from some kids in Dean's cabin who were too scared to argue with me.

"Am I going to die?" Leslie scurries up beside me and I look down at her, behind the thick lenses of her classes, she is holding back tears.

"Not for a very long time," I can hardly bend my neck to look at her with the amount of shit I'm hauling, the girls being little to no help with this. The girls trail behind me and I have to turn my entire body to look at them "If anyone runs off this time, I'm feeding them to the snatchers."

Suddenly they want to listen. The woods aren't scary in the day, just at night when they begin to whisper. As of now, I know the quickest way to every part of camp despite the identical trees so thick that you can hardly see the sky when you're beneath them.

Leslie holds onto the bottom of my red Colour Wars T-shirt since my hands are full, Valentina holds onto Leslie's hand and all of a sudden I've become a mother hen with little chicks following me around.

"If magic isn't real then why were people so scared of witches," Valentina asks me while she kicks a rock across matted fallen leaves and dirt.

"Maybe magic is real," I say "To burn a witch is to admit magic exists."

"How do I become a witch?" Chloe appears out of what seems to be thin air on my other side, I can't see her since my pile of goodies is up to my chin and I'm afraid that if I move all of it will come tumbling down.

"Practice magic," That was my guess, I didn't know squat about witchcraft.

"How do I do that?"

"A real witch will figure it out herself," I say. When you've worked with kids for five years, you get to a certain point where you run out of creative answers. During my first year working here, I was sixteen and a CIT, terribly afraid to mess up because I hadn't lived yet. With each passing year that I've come back, I get more and more comfortable, returning to familiar faces and the smell of petrichor.

Chloe nods excessively like I've just said something extremely profound, I can see the gears turning in her head like she's already thinking of spells to cast.

It takes a little less than five minutes until we're out of the woods, we emerge by the crafts cabin, the soccer field is in clear sight. The soccer field is built over a little mound, slightly elevated from the ground and on top I can see two piles of knick knacks and a pretty big sum of campers and counsellors alike waiting on the top.

From the looks of it Tommy and Joel have already begun to count their respective teams mound of treasure, Tommy being on the amazing red team and Joel representing the awful/disgusting/foul/boring/untalented blue team. That might've been a stretch but there were no friends in the Colour Wars.

In what seems to be the blink of an eye a hoard of kids runs past me and my girls, nearly knocking me off my feet. I didn't even process that some boys with too much energy had stolen plyed my well earned (stolen) treasure from my arms leaving me with nothing but my cape and crown until Liza, a girl from the Grizzly cabin snatched the cape right off my back and none other than Ellie herself grabbing the crown off my head.

They were booking it to the soccer field "Go get our shit back!" I yelled ushering my girls to go after the kids who were at least three years older than them. Only two of them actually listened; despite how hard they were trying, Leslie and Chloe's stumpy legs couldn't take them very far, leaving me to be the only one in pursuit.

I summoned back all of my memory from playing rugby in highschool and jumped on Ellie's back, I didn't take her down but she stumbled. I was so desperate to not turn up empty handed. By the time I made contact with her, she had already thrown the crown ahead for Liza to catch. They ran up the soccer field, dumping the double stolen treasure into their hula hoop. Even visually they were in the lead now, thanks to my expert piracy skills and theirs too, I guess.

"I hate you," I slid off Ellie's back, my sneakers hitting the dusty ground. "My girls earned that fair and square."

She looks me up and down, bathing in my anger like some kind of prize "I know you stole it."

"How?"

"Because I know you."

"Oh yeah?" I cross my arms, taking a step closer to my friend "Do you know how I'm gonna kick your ass later?"

She grins "I look forward to it." Ellie leaves me with this while she walks up to the soccer field to revel with her team in their newfound victory.

"What does 'kick your ass' mean?" Olive padded up behind me along with the rest of the girls, except for Leslie who was bent over, one hand on her knee to support her while she clung to her inhaler for dear life. "Are you gonna beat Ellie up?"

"I think she means 'kiss her ass'." Kim said, turning her head to look at Olive "Like they're gonna have sex later."

"What's sex?" Chloe furrowed her eyebrows.

"Kim you need to stop talking," I tell them, hands on my hips, nothing but frustration etched into the forefront of my brain. I glance back at Ellie as Maria rings the bell to signal that the game was over. Softly, with hands gentle as rain, I will wrap my hands around her neck and strangle her.

"Listen up!" I announced to the eight girls in my cabin. To absolutely no surprise, blue won the treasure hunt, now we were setting up for a water balloon fight in the allotted section of woods that Joel taped off in bright pink flagging tape. "I physically and mentally cannot handle another loss, I will be very disappointed in each and every one of you if we don't win-

"That's not true," Daniel cuts me off "The point of today is to have fun, winning doesn't matter, just do your best." The both of us are standing tall on a rock while the campers sit around and stare up at the two of us like we had been mighty gods preparing to throw wine and bread at their little feet.

I eye Daniel from the side and look back to everyone "None of your hard work is going to matter unless you win so do you want to be a whiney loser like Daniel or be cool like me and win the colour wars?"

Everyone fell quiet for a moment as if a curse of silence fell upon us until Kim not-so-sublty yelled "Daniel's a pussy!" I was beyond the point where I cared about the girls cussing, the only thing on my mind was showing my very dear friend, Ellie how awful her team is and rub my win in her beautiful face.

"That's what I like to hear!" I smile "Now let's go win this!"

My girls erupt in cheers and Daniel almost shamefully steps off the rock. I had finally made a breakthrough with my cabin after slightly snapping at them after Maria announced that the red team lost. Maybe the treasure hunt wasn't my thing, but water balloon wars? I had won that every single year, even when I was still a camper.

The objective was easy, be the last team with players, once you get hit you're out. Friendly fire is strictly against the rules as well as headshots, they had to be hit in the torso, once you get wet, you're out and have to leave the allotted zone to watch.

We played in a patch of forest that was less dense than the rest, making it easier to run around.

"Three!" Maria shouted, "Two!" She's standing in the middle of the zone, so everyone can hear her though no one can see her since the two teams are on opposite ends to make it fair. "One!" She blows her whistle and kids are already dunking their hands into buckets of icy-cold water balloons and setting off to the enemy end.

The CITs were responsible for keeping a consistent flow of water balloons and buckets spread evenly in the zone, I remember when I was a CIT and had to miss out on capture the flag to pick up every bit of balloon that at splattered across the ground.

I had a balloon in each hand, making my way around the perimeter discreetly. I lock eyes with a younger boy in a blue shirt, he immediately turns to run, not fast enough though "Come back here ankle biter!" I yell, decking a water balloon at him, it hits him right in his back.

There was a boy in Sawyers's cabin, one of the wild ones with animal teeth that ran off of energy drinks and the huff of Sharpies. He tried to throw a balloon at me but it missed me by a landslide, his second attempt wasn't much better.

I however nailed him in the chest "You're out buddy!" I smiled, and he met this by giving me the middle finger. "Whatever carrot top, tell Sawyer I send word!"

I was way too good at this game. Every year I thought I could take on the other team single-handedly and every year I'm proven right when I'm the last one standing. After a prompt reminder from Joel that this was supposed to be fun for the campers and I was treating it like World War Three, I had to cool down a little bit.

We played this game straight after lunch so everyone was either hopped up with energy or sluggish from eating too much, alternatively, there was Ashlynn. She was wandering around, a black bleach-stained hoodie thrown over the top of the shirt for whatever team she was on.

Ashlynn had a can of Diet Coke in hand, where did she get it? I'm not too sure, my guess is that she stashed them under her bunk. "Hey," She sits on a log beneath the tree I was hiding behind. "You're way better at this than you should be, you know you're playing against children, right?"

"I didn't come here to fuck around," There weren't a whole lot of people left in the game, I just took out Abby and the only counsellor left on the blue team was Ellie, maybe Ashlynn but she didn't pose a threat in any way shape or form.

"Do you have any nic on you?" She looked up at me, taking a sip from her diet coke, her shaggy bleached hair was one more dye away from being fried.

"No?" I furrow my eyebrows "I don't usually bring nicotine to a summer camp full of children."

Ashlynn almost looks like she's hungover but then again she usually seems that way "I brought a couple joints and I'm like ninety percent sure two got stolen."

My eyes widen "You brought joints? Ash, you're getting fired if Maria finds out."

She shrugs "I don't mind, I either smoke weed here or I smoke weed in my backyard."

"Okay but if it actually got stolen then it's probably some little shit that has it, they're gonna say that you gave it to them and that's a whole case."

"It's legalized though."

"Yeah, not for children." I was taken away from the game until I saw the smallest bit of a blue shirt beneath Ashlynn's sweater, I didn't hesitate to drop a balloon on her. She doesn't seem to mind and from this reaction, I'm beginning to think she's the one who smoked those missing joints.

I come out from behind the tree empty-handed and plant a kiss on her forehead as an apology for getting soaking wet "Love you, Ash, hope you find your weed." I tell her before jogging off. Ashlynn doesn't get up to join everyone else outside of the boundary, she just stays on the log and drinks her diet coke.

Dina is still in the game on my team as well as a few campers, I hear her voice yelling at children somewhere off in the distance. Sadly, the girls in my cabin were picked off almost immediately, I swear I will avenge their little souls.

"You're soaking Conner, get out of here," Dina scolded a kid on the blue team "You gotta play by the rules, so beat it shrimp."

"Nuh-uh," He said. Lord knows I hated this kid, last summer when I went to the bathroom during dinner Conner stole my food and denied it even though he was the only one in the mess hall with two plates, he then kicked me in the shins and waddled away.

"You gotta go, baby hippo," I tell him, his round cheeks are bright red from running and he's short-breathed. He shakes his head and with a final stern look from both Dina and I, he leaves. "Nice, who's left?"

"One camper on our team and just Ellie over there," She tells me "Like best case scenario, just go over there and seduce Ellie."

I raise an eyebrow "Nah, I'm winning with brute strength and incredible strategy."

"I'm guessing that going for the little kids first is your definition of incredible strategy?"

"Yup," I say, walking to a bucket to grab another balloon "Get ready, this could go south."

"God forbid we tragically lose our lives in a water balloon war," Sarcasm drips from her tone even though she grabs another balloon.

"I know, that would be awful," I say with full seriousness.

Dina is struck with a water balloon out of nowhere "Shit," She mutters, looking at her now dripping shirt. I don't think I've ever reacted so quickly to anything in my life, I throw a balloon at Ellie and it barely hits her, but it still does.

"Look, you're wet," I smile, brighter than I had this whole summer "You're wet, you lost!" I'm almost jumping around, I'm so unreasonably happy at such a stupid thing. "I won!" I yell trying to capture the attention of the CITs so my win could go on record.

"Fuck yeah!" Dina gives me a high five then looks at Ellie "You lost!"

"You lost," I say in a sing-song voice "Red team wins," I grab Dina's hand and raise to the sky like she's just won a wrestling match "We win, you're all wet!"

"You're wet too, D," Ellie says.

"Yeah, but you lost!" Dina wraps me in a hug around my torso, pinning my arms down and shaking me back and forth.

"Ew, get off," I can't help myself from laughing "But seriously I won, put that on record."

"Wow they have their worst player guarding the flag," I say, we were nearing dinner now and everyone was getting tired out, not me though, I had a war to win. Capture the Flag was the last game and that game is my shit, I know I said that about every other game but I really mean it this time.

"I always forget that you're way too into this," Ellie says, she's unmoving in front of the blue team flag, pole stuck into the ground.

"Ellie, you need to let me win," I say "Or I will do unspeakable things to you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" She teases.

"Whichever you want," I almost surprised myself by saying this but it just slipped from my mouth like wax off the wings of Icarus. Behind me, I feel a harsh slap on my back and swiftly turn around to see a pudgy kid with a huge smile on his face.

"You have to go to jail," Conner says and if he wasn't a child who stood at 4'3 I probably would've hit him.

"Yeah, I know, Conner," I glance at Ellie who is biting back a laugh and gives an obnoxious little wave as Conner drags me by the hand towards the jail. He waddles along, clinging to two of my fingers, his hands are greasy and slippery, whatever reason, I'm not sure I want to know.

He takes me to a rope circle laid out on the ground, there's already a handful of people on my team in it. Conner drops me off there, sticking his tongue out before scurrying away as fast as he could (Which wasn't very fast). There's one blue team guard, I recognized him from Jesse's cabin.

I'm far too bitter for someone playing a harmless camp game, I hold a grudge easier than I hold someone's hand. "Why are you here?" A boy from Miles cabin asks.

"Because I got tagged, Emmet," I say, agitated. "Why are you here? Because you can't outrun an eight-year-old?"

His smile drops "Yeah," He looks down at his shoes, kicking some dirt.

"How are we supposed to get out and win this?" Another boy asks.

"Jesus," I mutter "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Fifteen and you've never played Capture the Flag?"

He nods his head "I mostly play COD and Fortnite."

"Oh my god," I run my hands down my face, fighting the urge to gag "Someone from our team who isn't tagged has to tag us, they can only tag one person at a time and we get a free walk back to our side if we're tagged, to win the game you need to capture the other teams flag- you know what, I feel like this is pretty self-explanatory."

"So who's going to tag us?"

"Probably no one because a kid with Fortnite skills isn't really worth saving" I answer and he falls quiet. Harsh? yes. Necessary? No, but I was annoyed.

"Hey, Crawford," A voice says, she's standing a few yards back with one of her friends giggling.

"Oh, hey," The guy guarding us, coughs, deepening his voice "What's up."

"I can't believe you're actually playing this game," The girl sniggers.

"Nah, I'm just waiting for Lucas," He lies.

"Find him later, come hang out," She smiles at him.

Crawford looks from us to her, and with little to no hesitation, he goes with the girls. Once I see their figures retreat beyond the trees, I look around to see if there are any more people on the blue team around before stepping out of the rope circle.

"I thought you said we had to get tagged by someone else before we could leave," The boy says, looking around nervously as if he was buying pot in an alley.

"Are you a narc?" I ask.

"No?"

"Then we're good to go," I say, ushering my team out of the circle. The sun has just begun to set, casting an orange hue over everything and making it look like it had been touched by Midas. While the rest of my team runs back to our side where they are safe from being tagged, I have something else on my mind, Ellie Williams.

I began to retrace my steps back to where Ellie waited with the flag and where I'm sure a bunch of overeager kids were patrolling to protect the priceless flag from the claws of the evil red team. Ellie was never into these games until I was, the second I had the urge to win something, she was compelled to beat me.

Someone hadn't been looking where they were sprinting when they crashed into me at full speed, they would've knocked me down if they weren't the same height as an Oompa Loompa. She let out an 'Oof' while she fell to the ground "Chloe?"

"Hi," She looks up at me, and quickly the posse rolls around. All of the girls in my cabin, even Tamar and Morgan were actively participating.

Leslie ran up to me and hugged me around my legs "Hi, girls," I said with furrowed eyebrows. The past two weeks I had struggled to even get them to collectively go to breakfast without putting up a fight because they didn't want to. "How's the game going?"

"We know where the flag is!" Valentina peeps up, she has mud smeared under her eyes like war paint.

"Yeah, but Ellie's there and I'm scared of her," Leah mentions.

"Well, we're all together now so we can strategize," A smile cracks onto my face.

"We should put a scorpion in her hair," Kim has a wild grin on her tanned face, her honey-blonde hair is tangled into a rat nest, with a couple of leaves in there.

"No, good idea though, we'll save that one for later," I point at Kim "I was thinking that I could distract Ellie while half of you keep the other guards away and the other half grabs the flag and makes a break for it."

Kim nods enthusiastically, Tamar doesn't seem thrilled by the idea but she doesn't object to it so I take her silence as a win. This is the exact moment I put on my invisible captain hat, giving each of my girls a specific role with the promise I would sneak them candy on Saturday if they pulled this off.

With each passing minute, the sky got darker and darker, I wanted to finish this game until Joel and Tommy made the counsellors walk around with headlamps on to keep an eye on everyone. "Hi, El."

"What do you want?" She's been standing in the same spot for a little over an hour, her vexation was shining through in her tone.

"To be done with this game," I say, prepping myself for the little heist "This is really dragging on and- I saw Crawford run off with some girls from your cabin."

"Who the hell is Crawford?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"One of Jesse's boys, I know it's an unfortunate name."

"Who did he leave with?"

"Uh," I rack my brain for their names "Cindy and the rude one."

She nods, immediately knowing who I was talking about from my vague description "So, when are you gonna run past me and steal the flag?"

"What?" I acted like her question was incredulous "Why would you think that's what I'm trying to do?" I'm so bad at acting, I'm behaving like one of those wasted middle-aged men who get pulled over on the freeway and pretend that they're stone-cold sober by making a bunch of hand gestures while they talk.

"You're awful at acting," She says, crossing her arms, I watch the veins tense in her forearm below her tattoo sleeve.

"Fuck," I muttered "Fine, I give up," I plop myself on the ground, my spine against the trunk of a tree, I look up at Ellie "Okay, I'm officially over these games."

She raises an eyebrow and I can tell that she doesn't believe me. "First of all, you're sitting in mud. Second of all, eleven years of bloodshed and you're giving up out of nowhere?"

"It's not out of nowhere, I'm just getting older," I say the second half a little quieter "I'm in college I need to stop acting immature."

We both fall silent, she doesn't know what to say to this. Ellie usually wasn't the best at comforting me in whichever situation, I remember back when I was fourteen and a wreck because my first dog died and all she could do was give me a hug and ask if I wanted water.

"You’re not immature," Ellie says, unsure of what to do.

"Alrighty," I press my lips together in a thin line, equally diffident. "I'm just bored of this, it's gotten kind of repetitive."

"Then what do you wanna do?" She asks, in this light she's dimly illuminated by the setting sun. She looks like a sculpture carved from honey.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll do whatever you want," I smile.

"Are you trying to flirt with me?"

"Is it working?"

"Not entirely," She says, behind her, there's a snap and just before she turns around I call her attention back to me. I saw Valentina, Chloe, and Olive emerging from behind trees, just seconds away from victory.

"Okay," I chuckle "Help me up?"

Ellie regards me for a second before taking my hand stretched wide. The second her hand clasps in mine I pull her down with all of my might and believe me when I say this is no easy feat, Ellie was sturdy. Luckily I caught her off guard and managed to pin her beneath me, I straddle over her torso, gesturing for the girls to run.

"Go!" I whisper-shout so others on the blue team can't hear me. Ellie grabs me by the waist and uses momentum to flip me over, now I'm the one with my back in the mud and she sits overtop of me.

She had been so close that our lips brushed, and I had felt my heart stop, I almost didn't want to move just to see what would happen next but in utter panic, I reached next to me, a handful of mud and smeared it down Ellie's face. "You're so gross," She squeezes her eyes shut, leans back and begins to scoop mud off her face, I use this as my opportunity to wriggle out from beneath her.

It takes me a minute to get off my knees and onto my feet, by this point, almost the entirety of my legs are covered in mud, leaves, sticks, and probably bugs. I try to take off but my sneakers betray me and I fall face-first into the mud.

Of course, Ellie sees this and she's laughing so hard she needs to support herself, one forearm against a tree while her other is clutching her stomach. I scoop up more mud, almost squirming in distaste from the sensation of it caked beneath my nails but I still throw it at Ellie with perfect accuracy.

She tenses up when I do this. Once again I struggle to my feet but this time I am victorious, I stay frozen in place for a moment to be sure I won't face plant again. When I'm sure that I won't fall, I bend down to throw another mud pie at Ellie for good measure than I'm off to see if my girls completed the mission.

When I finally got back to my side I saw my team already celebrating "Woohoo!" I yell and the crowd immediately falls quiet, regarding my current state. I probably look like a creature who's just crawled out of a stagnant swamp.

"Why does she look like that?" Ashlynn whispers to Bowie who doesn't respond and from his red eyes alone, I know the reason why.

"C'mon girls," I smile "Bring it in!" I open my arms for my cabin to come in for a hug but they just back away from me with wrinkled noses.

Tommy looks at me "Why are you dirty?" I knew he was getting sassy when he propped his hands on his hips "What happened in the ten-minute gap since I last saw you that has made you so filthy?" It wasn't malice in his voice but genuine curiosity, Tommy was a fun-loving guy for the most part.

I shrugged "I wouldn't know, mate, you tell me." His eyebrows furrowed as his confusion delved even deeper. He looked into my soul from across the clearing. Eventually, Ellie makes her way to join me, she's a little better off than I am though she's still grimy.

"Oh, great, you too," Tommy says, gesturing to his niece.

Joel lets out a deep sigh "You two better shower before dinner."

I let the hot water run over my body, dripping down and consuming me whole. Ellie and I are the only ones in the showers, we're separated by nothing more than a divider though the steam is so heavy I wouldn't have been able to see her regardless.

Since we were sent to grab a change of clothes and clean off Ellie had been almost silent, she wasn't even teasing me back or making a punchline when I had thrown out an obvious setup.

After thoroughly washing the grime off of my body I turned the shower off, walking over the laminated bench where Ellie and I had out put our clothing only to find them missing. For a minute I thought I was crazy and had misplaced them but after awkwardly pattering around the shower house, I realised they were gone.

"Hey, Ellie," I say on the other side of her shower stall "Someone stole our clothes."

"You're hilarious," She deadpanned, not an ounce of amusement in her tone.

"Yeah, I know but I'm not joking."

I hear the water turn off in her stall, she pokes her head out and looks at the bench "Where did you put them?"

"I didn't put them anywhere," I say, in an attempt to sound convincing. "Someone took our shit," All that was left behind we're Ellie's Converse, knocked onto the ground and my carabiner with keys, a flashlight, and my shark keychain.

"Fuck," Ellie mutters and looks around for a moment before her eyes land on me and she quickly averts her gaze, "Can you turn around?"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before."

"I hate you."

"I hate you too." I tell her though I do turn around "What's the plan here?"

"I'm looking."

"I already did, dumbass."

"Thoroughly." She adds.

I stare at empty shower stalls and white tile walls while Ellie checks every single spot that I already have. I can hear only her and the plop of dribbles of water splattering against the cold ground. The steam is still heavy and easy on my sharp lungs.

"I can't find them," Ellie says at last. "But I did find some clothes that look like they could've belonged to Adam Sandler.”

"Yeah, no shit," I turn around and see her standing there completely nude, she moves quickly out of my eye line and into a stall "You've changed in front of me a million times, what's different now?" I say, nonchalantly, walking past her.

"Maybe I don't want you to see me buck naked."

"I think I just heard something," I stop in my tracks.

"not really the time-

"Why do you always think I'm fucking with you?" I ask, furrowed eyebrows.

"Because-

"Shh," I hush her trying to listen for the sound. I walked toward the entrance of the shower house there was a large wall in front of the door so no one could open the door to peek in, they had to go around the wall and properly enter, the same way most locker rooms were set up. I'm about ten yards away from the entrance when I see a figure poke their head out, just a quarter of its face, I can see their amber eye. They spot me in almost a split second and jet out in a blur, I hear the door open and crashing shut, their feet scrambling away. Just like that, I felt my blood run cold.

"Fuck!" I yell, scuttling back towards the stalls "Ellie, there's fucking someone in here!" My heart is beating faster than I think it ever has before and I almost feel sick with the thought that someone was in here the entire time Ellie and I had been vulnerable and unaware.

"What?" She steps out of the stall and looks around before she sees me. I'm on the floor, my knees to my chest and eyes wide. "You saw someone?"

"Yes!" I say throwing a hand out to gesture to the divider "They were hiding behind there and fucking watching us!"

"Shit," She says, walking towards the wall and looking behind it, she freezes too. Ellie turns towards me and the doubt on her face is gone "We need to find some clothes and get out of here."

"What?" I say "Did you see something?"

Ellie begins to open every single locker, tossing articles of clothing that people left behind on the ground. She wasn't exaggerating earlier when she said she found clothes that could've belonged to Adam Sandler. No wonder they were left behind.

"What was it?" I press again.

"Just some mud tracks, they were probably ours," She dismisses. "Now get dressed."

This doesn't ease me in the slightest, I'm so on edge that I haven't made a joke about Ellie and I casually being naked in front of each other. How ridiculous the pair of us looked didn't aid me in calming down; Ellie was wearing a black T-shirt about three sizes too large that read 'Ask me about my IBS' with a caricature of a man-eating cheese beneath it, this was paired with blue basketball shorts that had two white stripes running down the side. "How's your IBS?" I tease.

"It's a constant battle." At least she had her shoes, I had to wear flip-flops that hardly fit, so small I almost thought they belonged to a Barbie. While Ellie was moderately comfortable, I was not, I had to wear skinny jeans that were crudely cut into Bermuda shorts, matched with none other than an American flag tank top, how patriotic.

"I'm almost thinking it would be better to go out in nothing," I say, looking at myself in the mirror. I glance over at Ellie, I know she's trying to play it off but I can tell she's shaken. "You look so stupid."

"Damn," She says "I was just trying to show my support for those with IBS," Ellie jokes, trying to ease the tension.

The both of us are procrastinating on leaving the perceived safety of the shower house. I feel dread emanating from the woods, we will no longer be surrounded by four walls and engulfed by bright light. As we walk towards the entrance I reach for Ellie's hand, intertwining our fingers. "So we're going straight to the mess hall?"

"Yup," She says, giving my hand a little squeeze, it's her way of saying 'I got you'. I wonder if she can sense the panic pulsing through me or distress pumping in my veins. At the door I saw the tracks Ellie was staring at, they hadn't been ours. We walked in with muddy sneakers, these were barefoot prints, and whoever they belonged to had walked in many circles. I'm sick to my stomach once again, fighting the natural urge to vomit until I cry and my parents come to comfort me.

I click my flashlight on, but nothing lays ahead but forest and a beaten path. We stepped out into the darkness, it wasn't a far walk to the mess hall where everyone was gathered but that didn't stop my heart from racing like a rabbit moments away from getting snagged by a terrifying beast.

My heartbeat slowed the further we walked, so far we hadn't been kidnapped by a pervert. I take a deep breath, trying to push overtly dark thoughts to the back of my mind, next to me Ellie is calm as a marble statue bathed beneath moonlight.

Each breeze makes me shudder despite the humid weather. Suddenly, regarding my current situation, the summer camp doesn't feel like home anymore. It feels like those abandoned houses up the road that my parents had carefully trained me to stay away from. The rustle of leaves is reminiscent of the laugh that belonged to creepy men who used to watch children at the park who didn't belong to them.

I'm no longer met with the fresh scent of pine but something ancient, something rotted like it's been sitting in the back of the fridge for a decade. It reeks of shit to the point where I'm gagging on nothing like little hands of wind pushing on the back of my throat.

My hand grows sweaty clasped to Ellie's though she shows no indication of being bothered by this. I hear a rustle somewhere around, whether it's in the trees or the bushes I'm unsure, instinctivly, I freeze. I look around, the gleam from my flashlight gliding across the flora, searching for something that likely isn't there.

"It's okay," Ellie says, her voice tender as a lullaby "We're fine," She pulls gently on my hand to keep us going but I'm stuck in place. My flashlight is frozen on the body of a rabbit, Its white fur soaked through with red. I break my hand free from Ellie's grip and clasp it over my dry lips to choke down a cry. The entire skin of the rabbit's torso had been torn off on one side from the spine to the stomach, you could see its brown organs, the still beating heart, and everything that made it function was pooling out of it. If it hadn't been for its little head, beady eyes full of fear and perked-up ears, I wouldn't have known it was a rabbit at all. Whatever mauled it did a messy job that it hadn't quite finished like a dull axe to the back of the head.

Behind the trees, I hear slurping, something wet and hungry. It wretches on what I assume to either be its newest feast or its saliva. It devours every last breath it has, the breathing is shallow and gruff like it's eating so fast it's choking on its meal, though it takes the time to slurp and swallow the remnants of whatever it's chowing down on. I see a pair of golden eyes glint behind a shrub in the cast of my light.

I reach for Ellie's hand again and run like I've never run before. She quickly takes the lead, so fast that she's nearly dragging me along. We don't speak but we understand each other clearly, we need to move.

Trailing us, I hear heavy steps beating against the dirt pathway. I don't even need to look back to know that it's following u, its heavy, wet breathing is clue enough. I'm starting to feel a burning in my lungs, saliva builds in my mouth and I spit it down onto the pathway, heaving with every quick-paced step.

One of my too-tight pink flip-flops catches a rock stuck in the path and sends me tumbling to the ground. For just a moment I see a pitch-black figure wearing tattered clothing with amber eyes that glow light street lamps gaining on us; I could've sworn it had human hands and feet but I wasn't in my right mind, it's still enough to send adrenaline coursing through my veins. Without even stopping, Ellie pulls me back up and I kick off my other sandal, running barefoot on the trail.

My feet hammer against the dirt, rocks, and pebbles. I can feel the souls of my feet getting sliced and torn though I don't slow down, the sight of the mess hall in the distance makes me run even faster.

"Hey!" Ellie yells, trying to capture the attention of someone in the mess hall. Her grip on my hand doesn't loosen, in fact, it gets tighter as she pulls me along. I don't know if whatever was chasing us is still there but I'm too mortified to check.

I wave with my hand clutching my carabiner but it does nothing to garner any kind of attention within the mess hall. Our feet moving faster than we could form thoughts we ran towards the entrance.

Ellie pulls the door wide open and pushes me in before slamming the door shut behind us. The very second my heaving body hits the floor, everyone's attention falls on us.

"Woah," Miles regards us with confusion before it morphs into a smile on his face "Did you guys just have sex?" He takes a bite of his sandwich, he looks like he got into Ashlynn's stash.

"Why do you look like Adam Sandler and Hilary Duff?" Dina furrowed her eyebrows next to Jesse, he looked like he was trying to work together some type of conclusion for why we were breathing so deeply and why my feet were bleeding.

I look at Ellie and she meets my gaze, she no longer looks calm. There's a sense of dread written clearly across her features, that thing didn't seem animal, it didn't seem human either and I wasn't sure which was worse, the echo or the answer.

A/N: Not much to say today but thanks for reading! Love you all.

TAGLIST: @wherearthepilots-blog @diddiqueen my tags are being so weird I’m so sorry if you weren’t tagged

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thegettingbyp2 · 2 years

Note

So we all knox has got a thing for reverse cowgirl.. what about a smutty fic where he comes home in the cowboy costume from the ending of number 2 and he gets you to ride him and you do reverse cowgirl for him?

Take a Ride

You knew that Johnny was going to come home to you on a high that night; it was the last day of filming for the second Jackass film so you expected him to come home, happy and filled with alcohol from the trip he would take to the bar with the other guys to celebrate, so it surprised you when you heard Johnny walk through your front door at 10pm. You paused your TV, which was playing a YouTube video of an interview Johnny did when he was on Conan, and went to greet him.

‘Hey baby, what are you doing back so early?’ You asked, stopping in your tracks when you took in his appearance. He was wearing a black cowboy outfit, hat and all and you found it stupidly attractive.

‘I just wanted to come home after filming, took a pretty hard hit earlier and been feeling a bit off ever since. I can go and celebrate with them another time, it’s not like it’s the last time they’re going out to get drunk,’ Johnny replied, chuckling to himself. ‘Besides, I thought we could celebrate on our own.’ He said, walking over to you and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. The kiss pulled you out of your thoughts, you realised that you hadn’t heard a single word of what Johnny had said, you were too busy running your eyes up and down his body.

‘Well I like the sound of that,’ you hummed, resting your head against his chest. You looked up at him and smiled softly when you saw that he was already looking down at you and you couldn’t help the blush rise on your cheeks as you took in the cowboy hat perched on his head. ‘I like this,’ you said, lightly flicking the rim of the hat, ‘what are you wearing it for?’

‘The outfits for a bit at the end of the show, you’re gonna get to see me dance and everything,’ he teased as you laughed lightly.

‘I can’t wait to see it,’ you said, grinning as you reached up on your toes to take the hat from his head, only to place it on top of your own head. ‘Didn’t you say that you wanted to celebrate?’

You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw the grin that slowly stretched its way onto Johnny’s face as he pulled you tighter against him. ‘Since we’re celebrating me,’ he said cockily, making you slap his chest lightly, ‘I think that I want to see you take a ride. Wearing nothing but this hat,’ he pulled the hat down slightly over your eyes as he spoke lowly, knowing exactly what it would do to you.

You pressed yourself even closer, if that was possible, to Johnny as your hands moved to cup his cheeks as he lifted you up by the backs of your legs so you were at a better height to connect your lips. The kiss turned heated immediately, his tongue moving into your mouth and letting you taste the cheap chewing gum that he’d gotten rid of just before he had got home. His hands squeezed your ass, making you moan into his mouth as he walked you both through the house, up the stairs and into your bedroom before sitting down on the bed.

When you broke the kiss to catch your breath, Johnny moved his head to your neck, kissing and biting down harshly so you knew that you were going to have one heck of a cover up job before you left the house tomorrow. ‘Put on a show for me baby,’ he mumbled into your neck as he gave your ass a gentle slap, signalling that he wanted you to get up. Standing up, you slowly lifted his t-shirt that you were wearing up and off of your body, leaving you in just your bra and shorts. Turning around so you would be able to give Johnny a good view of your ass, you bent over slightly and slid your shorts down your legs until you were able to kick them off of your ankles, smirking when you heard the small ‘fuck’ from Johnny when he realised you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

Heading back over to where Johnny had moved until he was sitting against the headboard and shoved his black jeans down just far enough to free his cock, you couldn’t help but admire the view of his eyes on you as his hands pumped steadily up and down his cock. Crawling onto the bed, you swung your leg over his and sat on his lap, just in front of his cock as his hands moved up your back, pulling you against him.

‘I thought I told you I wanted everything except the hat off,’ he whispered into your ear, making you shiver.

‘Well I thought that you would like to do the honours, giving we’re celebrating you tonight after all,’ you said innocently as you brought you lips to the base of his throat, leaving open mouthed kisses across his skin. With a flick of his fingers, he had undone the clasp of your bra and ripped the offending item from your body, his fingers coming up to pinch your nipples which made you arch your chest into his.

All of a sudden you felt Johnny’s hand on the nape of your neck as you were roughly yanked forward until his lips were on yours once again. The kiss was rough as the hand that wasn’t keeping you firmly in place ran all over your body, pausing when he reached your pussy and he chuckled into your mouth when he felt how wet you were. ‘This all for me, doll?’ he asked, clearly not expecting an answer. You could only whine against his lips as he kissed you harder to muffle the sound. ‘Shh, you’re okay, I’ve got you,’ he said as he pulled away, bring both hands up to undo his shirt.

‘Keep it on,’ you said softly, running your hands up and down the soft material until Johnny’s fingers wrapping around your wrists halted your movements.

‘Someone really likes the cowboy outfit, huh?’ he teased. Instead of replying, you lifted yourself up onto your knees as he lined his cock up with your entrance. Keeping eye contact with him, you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, whimpering when you were sitting on his lap with his cock fully inside you. ‘Shit, you always feel so good, doll,’ he groaned as his hands flexed on your waist.

You soon started a quick pace that had moans spilling out of yours and Johnny’s lips constantly. ‘Doll, you look so good like his,’ Johnny managed to get out as he sat up and pressed his chest up against yours. In a flash of movement, Johnny had turned you around into the reverse cowgirl position and had taken over, using his grip on your waist to pull you up and down his cock like a doll.

‘PJ,’ you panted as you held onto his legs in order to get a semblance of balance. One of Johnny’s hands left your waist to tangle itself in the hair at the back of your head, pulling you up against his chest and harshly grinding against you, the new position not giving much room for him to thrust.

‘Fuck, doll, if only you could see yourself right now, my perfect little cowgirl,’ he groaned as he pressed his hips against yours as tightly as he could, burying his head in your neck and biting down on the skin of your shoulder as he emptied himself into you. He reached his arm around your body and a single touch to your clit had you cumming over his cock, making Johnny’s breath hitch as he felt your pussy squeeze around his softening cock.

You rolled yourself off of Johnny until you were lying next to him, the both of you panting as you tried to catch your breath. You reached up to take the hat from your head, throwing it to the corner of the room as Johnny laughed and leaned over you, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

‘I think we need to keep that hat around if it gets you all riled up like that,’ he said as his thumb rubbed along your cheekbone.

‘Or maybe if you come home in this cowboy get up more often. Congratulations, PJ, I’m proud of you,’ you replied and watched as Johnny’s eyes softened at your words.

‘That means the world, doll, you’re the only one I want to make proud, always.’ You both lay in a content silence for a few minutes before you heard Johnny groan and sit up.

‘What is it?’ you asked, running a hand along his back that was still covered by his shirt, slightly damp now from your rigorous activities.

‘I’ve gotta try and get out of this thing now,’ he said gesturing to the shirt, ‘maybe next time, get riled up when I do a stunt shirtless or something.’

#johnny knoxville imagine #johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #jackass #johnny knoxville smut

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earthlyangelbby · 1 year

Text

My First Friend in town.

Eddie Munson fluff.

Eddie X Fem reader

Use of Y/N

Word count: 2k

He works at the video store. This is after the event Eddie survived and is working at the video store with Dustin during Dustin’s junior year. So it’s like 1988 You’re in your early 20s like Eddie.

This work doesn’t contain anything NSFW but moving forward it will so minors do not interact!

You'd just moved to town with your dad. He's a truck driver and Hawkins was a cheap option since all those conspiracy theories came about. He thought that after all the crap that went down it was unlikely the Russians would ever consider this spot again. Plus now it was swarmed with government workers or so he heard from one of the locals during a stop here. Now this place has to be home. Your dad was as good as he knew how to be to you. He left plenty of cash and even an emergency credit card for you to use during his long hauls away.

You found yourself at the local Family Video trying to find something to entertain yourself since you'd be all alone for at least a month and you're new to town.

The long haired clerk started as soon as the bell rang when you opened the door.

"Helloooo there! Welcome t-"

He pauses as he looks up from his ugly sorting pile. His eyes widened and a grin began to form. He walks out from behind the counter and is closer to you. His fast movement causes a gust of scent to find your nose. He smells like musky patchouli. And you like that it's familiar. His style is the next thing you notice. He has chains on his pants and besides that cute little company vest he's wearing all black with a design on the shirt you can't make out under the vest.

"Well I don't think I've seen you in here before... I'm Eddie I spend too much of my life here running this store."

You look at him and smile. He has the prettiest brown eyes you'd ever seen. And sweet little dimples adorn his cheeks. He is really handsome. Much better looking than the walking advertisements for the Gap that you were used to seeing.

"Yeah I'd be shocked if you'd seen me here before. I kinda just moved here. I'm Y/N"

He bows in a very silly exaggerated way. In a posh accent he says,

"Welcome to Hawkins Y/N. What a pretty name for such the fair maiden. Though I'm not sure what such a lady is doing in this shit hole of a town."

He then leans against the counter while looking at you.

You tilt your head and look at him.

"Yeeah I didn't really choose to. My dad wanted to move here because all the shit that went down made it cheaper to live here. Plus he travels so that really only affects me."

You begin to slowly make your way toward the movies. Not really wanting to continue that part of the conversation.

Eddie trails not too far behind.

"Well hey! For the best recommendations I'm available just shout"

He turns and works his way back to his pile of tapes. He dances a bit while he works. You assume it's because he gets to choose his own music at work. Not many places play Dio at 2pm on a Tuesday.

You pick out 3 movies. Misery, Arachnophbia, and The Lord of the Ring(1978 animated) and bring them to the counter.

He seems to be hyper focused on sorting these tapes. His little tongue is out and he has no clue you're right there. So you slam your choices on the counter.

He jumps and lets out a little yelp.

It makes you snicker at him. He looks so tough but gets so scared by a little slam sound.

Embarrassed he notices you finally. While holding his chest he turns around.

"Jesus Christ Sweetheart! Use your words I thought the store was crashing down around us." He says with a half way chuckle.

He leans on the counter.

"Hard to hear me when you're blasting music Mr

You search for his name tag for a reminder and flick it.

"Eddie"

He just looks like an Eddie you think to yourself.

"Listen I need some sort of entertainment. Anyway let's see the choices from the lady herself."

He picks up your stack. Flipping through them.

With an eyebrow raised he looks at you with a finger pointed at one of your selections.

"One of these things aren't like the others. Two new horror flicks and The Lord of the Rings?"

"Well since it's my first night alone at home I wanted a comfort movie. I have seen it like a million times! I know its nerdy and i really dont care what you think." You confess with a sterness near the end.

With wide eyes and his hands up.

"Listen sweetheart I wasn't judging at all. I like the movie. Its just no one ever rents it. Besides am a little shocked a girl would be into this kind of stuff is all."

In a very exaggerated huff you roll your eyes with your arms crossed.

"OH right okay so instead I should be checking out Pretty in Pink and St. Elmo's Fire?"

Eddie looks stunned at the sudden attitude.

A full out laugh came out of you when he looked so scared. He joined in on the laugh.

Eddie with a sigh of relief

"Shit I really thought I made you mad. What I meant wa-"

With a big grin you exclaimed

"Shut up I know what you meant! I stayed over at my neighbors house a lot and her teenage son was really into LOTR so I watched it when they babysat me."

He keeps getting so flustered it's so funny seeing someone react that way over you. But why is he so nervous?

"That's great I really love LOTR. Did you know it was originally a book? I actually have them all if you ever wanted to borrow them" trailing off at the end and blowing air out of his mouth.

He leans down toward the computer.

"Okie Dokie Y/N I'm gonna need some information since it's your first time at the great Family Video. Last name and home address."

While looking in your wallet with your new home address in it you read it off to Eddie

"Okay don't go stalking me now Eddie! We just met I mean I might even count you as my first friend in town."

Eddie smiles and looks back up at you

"Don't worry princess it's standard practice here to have that info in case our movies go M.I.A. and we have to track em' down.

We actually live right by each other. I live just past your house in the trailer park."

A rush of courage hits you in that moment.

"Oh yeah then why don't you drive me home after your shift? Maybe I can help with you monstrosity of tapes you got going here. Until it's time?"

Oh my God that was way too bold why in God's name would you say that!! Good job he's stunned over all the presu-

Eddie cuts you off mid thought. He motions for you to look behind you outside. It's pouring out there. Maybe you'd have noticed if the music wasn't so loud. OH but he thinks you asked on purpose. Okay not as weird now.

Eddie starts

"Well hell yeah you're offering to work for a ride home cause its raining? Yeah I can do that. Lucky for you my shift ends soon or I hope it does. The guy who usually comes in does have to walk from the school and in this weather they might be a bit late."

He finishes bagging your movies up and puts them under the counter.

"One of us has to remember to grab those on our way out."

You make your way behind the counter.

"You're a life saver! Thanks so much."

You help Eddie finish sorting and push the cart around the store while he puts the movies back in the correct spaces. The whole time the two of you have been talking nonstop. Most of it nerdy stuff and some of it flirty. It is clear he's into you.

A curly headed boy walks in completely soaked. Its been about two hours since Eddie agreed to drive you home and it's still pouring.

A very out of breath boy

"Eddie listen man it's coming down out there! Let me change into something dry and we can switch."

Before getting a reply. He rounds the corner pretty fast and runs into you. You fall back and land on your butt. He's like a deer in headlights.

Eddie yells "Woah Dustin slow your roll man. We shouldn't be knocking over ladies in here. Won't get no more of em as customers.

And helps you up. Leaving poor Dustin to get up himself.

"OH my GOD I'm so sorry ma'am I had no idea you were here."

He looks so embarrassed.

You're more concerned if he's okay and start laughing. "I'm okay! It's fine. Are you okay?"

He's cute but in like the aw a cute puppy kind of way.

The poor guy slipping and sliding up to his feet

"Yeah I'm fine. Again I'm so sorry ma'am."

He gets cut off by Eddie

"Dustin Dustin this is Y/N. She's new to town and this is gonna be her new hangout" he says with a grin

You smile at Dustin and extend your hand out to him. He grabs yours and shakes it.

"Thanks for sweeping me off my feet kid. Also enough of that ma'am nonsense!"

Eddie interjects not trying to be rude.

"Okay Henderson go get changed you're dripping all over the floor here man."

He shuffles off to get changed.

Eddie rubs his hands together and walks the empty cart back up to the front.

"Alright princess as soon as he comes back out we can get going."

You rush behind the counter to grab your movies.

"Alrighty I'm ready when you are Eddie."

A still drippy haired boy with dry clothes comes back up to the front. "Reporting for duty Sir!"

He says with a hand up to his forehead.

Eddie places his hand on his own forehead

"Private are you ready to check movies in and out to any patrons that walk through that door?"

"Sir yes sir" he says with an absolute silly grin.

Eddie pats his shoulder. "Alright man I'm out."

Eddie runs out and you wait just a second to make sure you know what car to get into. He runs toward a van parked near the front. You follow out nearly getting soaked. He jumps in and then leans over to open the door for you. You get in. It smells like pine from his little air freshener hung at the front.

Eddie starts up the van and adjusts the radio and turns the heat up. After he pulls out of the spot and begins driving.

"Really sorry it's such bad weather princess I'm usually much more of a gentleman. I actually walk around and open the van from the outside in normal weather.

This made you blush. You aren't really used to being treated like royalty. Or really just nice at all.

"Listen Eddie I just appreciate this ride home. Besides you did still open it for me."

Eddie shakes his head at you.

"Nope that didn't really count that was the least I could do for a lady like yourself. Anyways you mentioned you're gonna be home alone for a while. What if I just joined you for your movie night? I'd love to see Lord Of The Rings with someone who claims to have seen it a million times."

He's so cute but in the sexy way. He's wearing a smirk right now. How could you like someone so much after a few hours together.

"Yeah I think I'd like that Eddie." I was planning on making spaghetti tonight so I hope you're up for that."

Eddie taps the steering wheel while shaking his head up and down.

He gasps

"You mean I get to watch nerd movies and a pretty girl is gonna cook for me? I mean I don't know maybe something just came up I suddenly can't do it now." he says in a very sarcastic tone.

You laugh of course.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #imagine eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x y/n #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things

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fragilestflower · 2 years

Note

After a long day of work in the summer heat, the last thing I wanted to come home to was a party.

It was my roommates birthday, however, so I couldn’t be upset at the small crowd of strangers enjoying music loud enough to make the house shake. We had discovered that the rooms were almost soundproof when we had first moved in together though, which was an absolute blessing.

I was greeted with a chorus of shouts and people telling me to join in on the fun, especially my roommate, who was already more drinks in than he could probably handle. It was late, however, and all I wanted to do was strip out of my work clothes, shower, and pass out in my bed. Politely refusing any drinks and slowly weaving my way through the crowd should have been easy-until I was in front of her.

It was no secret that I had always been attracted to her-but who wasn’t? She was a full foot shorter than myself, and the skin-tight shorts and black tank top she was wearing only highlighted her fit body. My thoughts went immediately from showering to other, more intimate ideas, especially when trying to look her in the eyes turned into a quick glance just a bit lower.

She smiled in a knowing way. “Aren’t you going to stay for at least one drink?” She asked sweetly. Was it just my imagination, or did she arch her back to give me a better view down her tank top?

“I...I mean...” I stammered, trying to form some sting of words to form a sentence. Her grin only widened as she grabbed at my shirt, tugging me along to the kitchen table where a ridiculous amount of alcohol and mixers were on display. She put down the red cup

In her hand, mixed something up (was she bending that way on purpose, or did her ass just look that good all the time?), turned and handed it to me. I took a tentative sip and found it tasted amazing, but heavy on the vodka. I nodded my approval. “Strong, but enjoyable,” I said, proud I could make a sentence while my mind wasn’t entirely focused on words. We spent the next few minutes chatting about random things-work, cars, eventually making our way to talk about relationships. My heart skipped a beat when she mentioned she was enjoying being single at a party, a detail I managed to hang onto. After my cup was empty, she didn’t even give me time to protest before taking it and refilling it. On top of everything, she was a bartender, and a damn good one at that.

As she was getting a refill, I became distinctly aware that I was still in work clothes, and that my body was starting to protest not being showered or in bed. I worked my way over to the bar, tentatively putting a hand on the small of her back-which wasn’t easy as her black hair went right down to her ass. The fact that she jumped, inadvertently making my hand go lower, was a mixed blessing.

When she turned around though, I lost my breath for a second. She had spilled some of what she was making on her top; if ever there was a clear winner for a wet t-shirt contest, it would forever be her.

“I’m so sorry!” I gasped. “I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s not a big deal,” she interrupted. “But if you have a shirt I could borrow...”

“Yeah, of course,” I replied. “My room is just down the hall.”

I turned and started weaving my way through people, with her following close behind. It wasn’t easy being coordinated though-being a lightweight meant I was a cheap date but also had its disadvantages. Once we got through the crowd and down the emptier hall, she hooked her arm around mine, providing some semblance of balance.

“I guess I was a little heavy-handed with that first drink of yours” she laughed. I felt my cheeks burning a bit, and let it be. I fumbled for a minute with my room keys once we got to the door, but managed to open it without looking like a total drunken idiot.

Most of my room was taken up with a queen-sized bed, with barely enough room for the dresser and desk to fit. I pulled open the top drawer and searched for a shirt that wasn’t too old, pulled it out, turned and handed it to her, apologizing again.

She laughed it off, saying “now turn around. I don’t want you getting any funny ideas...” her coy smile left me with a sensation that traveled up and down my spine, and in my less than sober state I spun around and stared at the ceiling. I could hear her peel the soaked tank top off, and every part of me was screaming to turn around, but I somehow managed to hold off. Instead, i managed to find the mindset of searching for fresh clothes to get ready for bed, and a clean towel left on top of the dresser. I felt a hand on my arm and turned around.

She wasn’t topless-and I was both happy and sorely disappointed at that-but the shirt she had on was almost comically large for her. She was covered all the way down past her shorts, making it look like the only thing she had on. The pout on her face said it all, so I turned around and dug out a white tank top that no longer fit me. Her pout turned into a grin, and she made a circular motion with her finger, which I respectfully obliged. I got no small shock when the shirt I had first given her was thrown on top of my head. Without thinking, I pulled it off my head and turned around.

She had just pulled the tank over her breasts, but it left very little to the imagination. I took a deep breath, which she noticed, and again she smiled almost mischievously. She squeezed her arms tight, pushing the front of the top to a limit that left me wordless. I stammered and reached for the towel, trying to focus on more than just breathing and staring. She noticed my pitiful effort, and her smile only widened.

“Go shower.” It was a command, and at this point I was almost hypnotized, so I simply nodded and gathered the things I needed. Before I managed to walk out of the room, however, she added, “...and I’ll be waiting when you come back.” Her eyes had taken on a new look, one that was both devious and promising something more primal. Not even remotely able to question my luck, I rushed out the door and to the bathroom right next to my bedroom.

I tore my clothes off, still not entirely coordinated and focused more on what may be the luckiest night of my life coming up. I half wondered as I turned the water to blazing hot if I was simply imagining things. Almost as soon as I stepped into the shower though, my thoughts became less focused as a blast of heat hit me. I let out a sigh of relief as I soaked in the water, allowing the muscles in my back to relax. As I turned to face the water, drawing another “ahhh” from me, I heard the bathroom door open.

One of the great perks of the apartment was that my roommate and I had separate bathrooms, and an agreement that any guests would use his, as it was closer to the door. I opened my mouth to protest, but before the frustration could form words a voice cut me off.

“Oops. I didn’t want to wait.”

The words caught in my throat as she pushed aside the shower curtains and came into the shower, fully undressed.

Turns out I wasn’t dreaming.

Her hands found my hips, and with her eyes not leaving mine she guided herself around me. Her leg brushed the inside of my thigh, and I would have bet the entire party could have heard me try to swallow. As she let go, fully immersing herself in the water, I gazed at her. While I had thought her outfit had left little to the imagination, that was before she had stepped into the shower. Now my head was swimming with thoughts and ideas while there was still some blood rushing to my brain as opposed to other areas. I watched as she soaked her whole body, running her hands through her hair, her eyes closed and her body only inches away from mine. The shower now felt almost cold compared to the heat coming off of my own body.

She finished getting herself wet from head to foot, opened her eyes and locked them with mine. There was more than simple lust in that look. I felt more like a piece of meat she was going to devour than a man trying desperately to keep his legs from shaking in excitement. She looked around, finding the body soap I used, before taking a pump and running it around in her hands. She closed the distance, her breast suddenly pressed against my stomach, and breathed “you, are so...dirty.”

My legs betrayed my thoughts, trembling at the effort.

As she started lathering you my body, her gaze softened, from one of carnal desire to one more passionate. She worked her way from my neck down, covering me with the soap in a soft but firm determination. As she moved to my chest, and down to my stomach, my legs tightened, and as she worked her way down to my hips a sigh escaped from my pressed lips, with my head tilting up. Her pawing at my hip brought my attention down, only to find her on her knees expectantly.

I won’t claim to be the largest guy-I never had any reason to measure myself-but compared to her my dick looked massive. I could barely focus on standing while she cleaned me; to stop an erection would have been futile.

She stared directly into my eyes again, that passionate look taking a slight edge of something more, as she started with my balls in one hand. That gaze plainly told me not to look away, another command that I was helpless to follow. As she used both her hands to slowly lather and stroke my cock-not with the intention of pleasure, but to clean me-I couldn’t help but put my hand on her face. She smiled, a passionate, affectionate one, and kissed my hand, her grip tightening only slightly but noticeably. She soon finished, moving her hands up and down my ass and legs, but her face seemed to move every closer to my cock. I stopped focusing on my legs and instead bent my will on not twitching in anticipation.

As she finished, she stood up, that mischievous look creeping back into her gaze. She put a hand on my chest and gently pushed me back beyond the water, at the edge of her reach. She then took another pump of body soap and proceeded to lather herself up. I instinctively took a step forward, but she wagged a finger at me, clearly saying that this was her show.

She took her time lathering her entire body, cupping her breasts, slowly winding her hands down her stomach, and turning around to give me a clear view as she worked. Somehow, the ability to watch but not touch was intoxicating, sending me to a new level of excitement that even stopped my legs from shaking. As she turned to the water and rinsed off, her smile taking one one of joy, I could no longer resist and stepped forward, my body bumping into hers. Her gasp was one of half-genuine surprise, followed by “I was wondering how long it would take you.” Her hands reached behind her and grabbed at my hips, slowly shaking her ass on my hardened cock, first back and forth before going up and down. Another sigh of pleasure escaped my lips, and even with my eyes closed I could sense her grinning.

When she turned around, she took a step back, her hands again working up and down my body to help rinse off the soap. As she worked her way down, she again went to her knees, and again her hands wrapped around my cock. This time though, her stroked were slower, her grip tighter. I opened my eyes and looked down at her, but her gaze was focused in front of her. That primal look had come back in her eyes, a hunger shown by biting her lip and a singular focus. My hand went down to her chin, breaking her concentration as I lifted her face up for a kiss. That one kiss turned into several, her lips conveying her desperate desire, all the while slowly stroking, before she pushed my face away and wrapped her lips around the head. I was left breathless, my one hand wrapping around her hair while the other sought some sort of handhold. She slowly started taking more of me into her mouth, bit by bit, even gagging herself once or twice. I couldn’t expect her to talk all of me-I never said I was big, but by no means would I consider myself small-but every time her head bobbed forward I couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure with the occasional “oh god, yes” escaping me. One of her hands was grabbing my ass, while the other reached down, pleasuring herself. I swear I could feel her moaning with my cock in her mouth, which made me rock my hips forward more than once.

Then suddenly, her mouth came off of my throbbing cock, with her eyes meeting mine. I almost drowned in the lust and need that look conveyed, as she said breathlessly, “I need you.”

Her hands again pushed me back, rising off of her knees and almost leaping into me as her lips locked with mine. Her hands were everywhere, stroking my ass, legs and back, gripping the back of my neck and hair. Her legs were wrapped around me, and I grabbed her ass and pushed her back against the shower wall. My lips wandered down to her neck and collar, and I could hear her sigh in pleasure. I kissed, sucked and nipped everywhere my mouth could find, while I slipped one hand in between her legs, drawing a much higher gasp of surprise and joy from her. Now lost in herself, her sighs and moans now we’re whispered in my ear as he legs rocked around me.

“I want you ready for me,” I said as I nipped her ear.

“I am...” she begged, and it was so true. “I’ve wanted this,” she started, and had to stop as she gasped, “for, so long...”

And then she said the magic word that turned every sense and reason from my mind.

“Please...” it was everything-a request from a woman begging in the deep desire, a command coming from someone who was not used to being controlled, and a lazy desperate attempt to maintain some of that control. I wanted to tease her longer, to once again hear that desperate plea, but she grabbed my hand, pulled it towards her lips, sucking on her own juices, and I could not resist as her hand slid back down and lined me up perfectly.

If her mouth has been pleasure, this was nothing short of ecstasy. As much as my body wanted nothing more than to slide as deep as possible inside her, i managed to slow my pace, taking my time. She moaned every time I slipped further inside her-she was small, and wet, and wrapped around me perfectly.

The first time I slipped my entire cock inside her, she cried out, and I thought I had gone too far or too fast for her, but when she started rocking her hips it told me differently. I started driving her back into the wall, barely hanging on to the idea to take my time. Her hand snakes back down in between her legs, fingering herself and making her moans louder. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if the party could hear this, but the rest of me couldn’t care less. My hands gripped her ass right as I started to pick up the pace, trying to match her frantic one with mine. I could feel her legs start to shake, and her moans began mixing with breathless gasps, with the occasional mindless babble of a woman totally lost in pleasure. Her hips rocked back and forth, and her breasts matched the motion, only driving me further.

Her noises started taking on a higher pitch, and her body started a rhythm that was only all the clearer when she half-moaned “I’m close...oh god I’m soooo close...” her eyes were closed and her head tilted back, riding every wave of pleasure with abandon. Her cries suddenly turned frantic, and I could feel her construct around me as her eyes snapped open to stare me in the eyes and demand, “cum for me.”

Without a word, I went from trying to control my pace to a mindless desire to fuck her through the wall. As she writhed around me, her lips found my ear, biting and begging over and over “cum for me, oh god yes cum for me...”

As I felt that pressure building up, coming close to that final release, my lips found the base of her neck as I lost that final layer of control. I moaned into her body, legs jerking and trying to remain upright as every fiber of my being felt like it was leaving me. What felt like hours passed; more than once my eyes rolled back into my head and I almost blacked out. When the waves subsided and it was finally over, I managed to push myself up to look back in her eyes. There was a somewhat glazed look to her, still enjoying the rigorous pleasure, but her smile was genuine and filled with as passion as satisfaction.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for YEARS,” she breathed. Her face cupped mine and she kissed me. Somehow that kiss was different from the passion and lust that had just consumed them.

“You’re not the only one,” I replied, trying to catch my own breath now that my body was returning from that primal mindset.

She set about cleaning both of us again-I was thankful that our water was still hot-and was extra gentle while soaking and rinsing me. When she was finished, she looked up and laughed, “ so you mind if I stay the night? I wouldn’t mind waking you up...” that lustful look crept back into her eyes.

My mind wanted what my body could not accomplish, and I said with confidence, “who to say I won’t wake you up?”

Her eyebrow perked, and she nodded, silently accepted the challenge. We dried off and made our way to my bedroom, oblivious to the world around us, and collapsed in my bed. I fell asleep almost instantly, but my last conscious thoughts were at how a fantasy had somehow turned to reality.

Jesus fucking Christ. I feel like I should pay you for that orgasm.

I can’t even explain what that just did to me. I feel like I know I who did this but I’m gonna have to beg to find out. Guess we will see.

#answered asks #holy wow #write to me

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smallerplaces · 10 months

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Unboxing: Simply Fresh "Kylie"

Paying no attention to dolls from late 2018 to essentially now means that I missed a lot, including the most completely in-my-lane doll release that I've ever encountered: the Family Dollar exclusive "Simply Fresh" dolls.

I found this on FD's site and was kicking myself for not noticing until it was out of stock.

Simply Fresh was a bargain line for The Fresh Dolls, a Black-owned, woman-owned doll company that makes an articulated fashion doll range and the incredibly cool male Fresh Squad, which is priced for modest collectors (if I do any splurging this year, it's going to be on a Fresh Squad guy -- go look at them).

Doing a dollar-store line with natural hair options is brilliantly on-target for the goal of offering children fashion dolls who look like them and show that their looks can be beautiful. At the dollar-store level, when you see a Black doll at all (other than an occasional overstock Barbie), she always has straight hair because she's just a dark version of the Caucasian doll. There are plenty of towns around here where Family Dollar is the biggest and most exciting store, so this kind of toy gives options to kids who don't have much to choose from.

Anyway, I was poised between hope and despair on whether I'd be able to find a Simply Fresh, as they were sold out online, and my two usual Family Dollar stores had none. Then I went to the one downtown and... there was one Simply Fresh doll left. Which one?

Given a choice, I would have gone for one of the dolls with natural hair, but Kylie was the only Simply Fresh doll on the shelf. (And I've gone to multiple FDs since without finding more.) As an adult collector, if it's important to me to have a natural-haired doll, I have multiple options at many price points, so having all the available natural-haired dolls go to kids is... awesome, really.

I brought Kylie home because she's a neat idea and I like her face-up.

She has a face where I want to hear what she's about to say.

Kylie is heavy, and her plastic doesn't feel cheap. Her range of movement is limited -- unsurprising in a $5 doll.

Her corset can be either a top or lingerie. While I generally haven't liked the move to permanently painted bodices on fashion dolls, it's a legit cost-saving for a small company that doesn't have Mattel's economies of scale, and it's a really nice corset.

When I tried to dress her in Sparkle Girlz fashions -- which are a decade old now, yikes! -- I discovered that she's bigger in both booty and bosom than dolls of that era. She can wear a colorful loose Barbie coat, but I need to sew her a dress to go under it.

At this point, I was bothered by stiff glue flecks in her hair. I tried combing them out and just made Kylie look like she had dandruff.

The instructions for these dolls say not to brush or wash their hair, which is excellent advice in dealing with super-curly doll hair. If I had one of the other two gals, I would be going nowhere near the bathroom sink or the comb. However, Kylie has straight hair.

Reader, I boil-washed her. As you'll see in the rest of her dress-up pics, it did no harm at all. Her hair dried soft, straight, and realistically shiny.

Once her hair was dry, I thought maybe Curvy Barbie clothing might fit Kylie. It does, but the effect is so frumpy that when I tried to transfer the pic from phone to laptop, I got a CATASTROPHIC FAILURE message.

I'm not putting Kylie in that dress again. Mattel did Curvy Barbie dirty on fashions.

Kylie also can't hang out in just her undies, and whatever incredibly safe, obvious place I put her red skirt... well, I can't find it. She needs to wear something.

While I ultimately want to dress Kylie in a very elegant, Vogue-fashion way, I don't have space or energy to haul out the sewing machine right now. So I pulled out an old T-shirt that I hadn't gotten around to recycling and made her a no-sew circle skirt.

Kyle's expression suggests that she'd hoped for more at TJ Maxx, but she's decently covered for socializing with the rest of the crew.

Next to Emma (Family Dollar "Career Doll") and Ruby (Sparkle Girlz Mini from 2018), Kylie is clearly higher-quality: nicer plastic, more detailed and expressive face-up, less synthetic-looking hair. This was a great $5 doll and I wish the Simply Fresh project had a longer run.

That said, a look through my clothing bins revealed that Petite Barbie and Stacie each have way more clothing than I realized, so the doll who's first in line when I crack out the sewing machine should be Kylie. I'm excited about this -- she has a great figure for dressing and a great expression to carry off powerful and avant-garde clothing.

#simply fresh #simply fresh dolls #the fresh doll #family dollar #fashion dolls #african-american dolls #black dolls #kylie

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pedros-mustache · 3 years

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circumference thou bride of awe

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: smut (18+ only): breeding & lactation kink, pregnancy sex, piv sex. also: unabashed body worship, body image concerns, language, x fem!reader

a/n: i’m so sorry to all of you for having to suffer through my self-indulgent bullshit and my fics that are titled after poems (this one: emily dickinson). i honestly don’t know what’s come over me lately, but plz don’t look at me—this is, full stop, the most revealing thing i’ve ever written. like holy shiitake mushrooms. 🙈

Standing at the full length mirror, TV on the dresser humming low with a preseason basketball game, you openly run your gaze over your figure. What you see confounds you: A body you’ve inhabited the entirety of your life, a body you’ve watched unfold and mature and settle over time, and yet, this evening, you feel as though the body you see does not belong to you.

She is a stranger, this woman in the mirror. The familiarity of her features strikes you as curious, and you respond as you normally would, with that nervous little laugh that catches in your throat when you catch sight of someone with an eerily similar composition to your own. But with the otherworldly glow of her skin, the roundness of her hips, and the gentle slope of her womb—surely—surely—the woman staring back at you, moving in tandem with your movements, cannot be you.

There’s just no way.

You trace your fingertips over your stomach’s growing firmness, and the shoulder of your blouse falls to the wayside, the rise of your breast exposed to the room’s dim light. So much change in so little time, you can barely keep up. Wasn’t it last week you called Marcus in a frenzy, five tests and ten lines confirming your suspicions? Wasn’t it yesterday you told Missy and she cried, rough exterior giving way in the face of a unique companionship only to be found in a sibling? You aren’t sure of the timeline anymore—only that you are happy.

The underside of your swollen womb peeks out beneath the soft cotton of your sleep shirt, and you move the fabric up and over your belly. Twenty weeks—halfway there—a baby the size of a bell pepper forming within the utter depths of yourself. A peppering of red stretch marks dot your skin, places where you’ve grown too big too fast. In the three-tiered cart beside the dresser—a cheap thing overflowing with supplements and vitamins and ointments—you find a round container of cream. The contents smell like coconut and summer, like the vacation you had to postpone. (Air travel doesn’t suit you these days.)

A low, appreciative noise sounds from behind you, and your eyes lift, meeting his in the clean glass of the mirror. Marcus—sprawled out in bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the sheets and comforter shucked to the footboard in the oppressive summer heat. He’s wearing his rattiest grey t-shirt—Broad Street Bullies World Champs ‘74-’75—and unassuming black boxers, tight around his muscular thighs. His glasses, large and square, over warm eyes that drink you up, swallowing you whole in their richness.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, and even now, you duck your face on a hot flush.

He sits up, beckoning your forward with a bend of his finger. “Come ‘ere,” he says. “You look beautiful.”

You turn from the mirror with a poorly concealed glare. “I look like I swallowed a globe, Marcus.”

He chuckles at that and drops his hand to the mattress. “No, you don’t. Not yet anyway. Give it a month or two.” When you return to your reflection, massaging the thick cream into the jagged lines of your skin, he calls for you again, your name a fervent prayer on his lips. “Come here. Let me touch you.”

With a put upon sigh, you screw the container shut and set it aside before ambling your way to the bed. California king, his “treat yo self” moment upon moving out of the old apartment he shared with Missy and her mother. You feel ridiculous, pulling yourself onto the high-seated mattress and crawling on all fours across both zip codes the frame seems to cover, but Marcus doesn’t mind a bit.

He reaches out to toy with the swooping neck of your shirt. The crook of his knuckle drags back and forth, back and forth, over the worn material. “I can see everything when you wear this.”

You pull to a stop at his side as you press your shirt to your chest, faux modesty your only weapon against a man who can unravel you with one look. “You’re a dirty rascal,” you say, pushing your pointer finger against his chest. “A bona fide peeping Tom.”

Grin spreading full over his face, his cheek dimples; a cavern of delight. “Can you blame me? I mean—look at you.” He pats your leg, cocking his head to the side in a silent plea for you to straddle his hips.

You oblige.

His broad hands fall to your waist as you seat yourself, ass spilling over his thighs. There’s a twinge of interest beneath you, a tell-tale hardening that’s difficult to ignore, but you ignore it anyway. Rather, you try to. All the recent changes to your body and he still wants you. It drives you mad—with pride, with desire, with uncertainty…

He wants you now, when you are plush with more, filled to overflowing with his seed, a beacon of belonging for all to see, but what about after the baby? Will he still want you then? When your skin sags and your breasts leak over nice blouses and his touch leaves you raw and tender?

Will he still want you then?

You aren’t sure. You dare not ask. For the moment, all you can do is roll your eyes on a smirk, pushing down the hum that rises in your belly at the feeling of his arousal.

Warm fingers slide beneath your shirt, massaging the skin of your hips, and he looks up at you, circumventing the way your gaze skitters to the side with a soft kiss to your jaw. His hands creep up, up, up, taking your shirt with them. “Can I?” he whispers against your skin. “Let me see you.”

Though your heart lurches to your throat, you yield to baser desires. “Yes,” you exhale.

Marcus lifts the flowy cotton over your head, and as the world turns light blue and soft, vision tangled with the glow of bedside lamp and the momentary covering, you shut your eyes. The sleep shirt falls to the floor with a muted thump, and a rush of air pushed by the ceiling fan skirts over your naked flesh. One hand snakes around the back of your neck, fingers tangled in the hair at the bottom of your skull. His opposite hand lands at the juncture of your leg and your hip; his fingers squeeze into the crevice there, thumb splayed wide over your bump. He draws you forward, and he kisses you. A simple, soft peck to your mouth, nary a swipe of his tongue or a drag of his teeth over your lower lip. Still, you lean into him, palm to his scruffy cheek.

He pulls away first, nose carving a path from your lips to your neck. “Open your eyes.” You shiver when his tongue hits your pulse point. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of with me.”

Inhale, exhale. The wedding band on your ring finger squeezes tight. To have and to hold, for better or for worse.

When you open your eyes, he’s grinning, and it’s such a boyish look—so lopsided and eager in his enthusiasm—you can’t help but laugh. “Marcus, don’t look at me like that!”

His grin merely doubles in size. “What?! I can’t help it! I wasn’t expecting you to be totally naked under there.”

“I just got out of the shower.”

“Then I have impeccable timing.” In two quick movements, he removes his glasses and shirt, tossing them both to the side. Arm around the small of your back, he tugs you closer. You drop your hands to his chest to steady yourself, arching into the warmth of his mouth as he washes wet kisses over your sternum. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”

He murmurs the words against your skin, and you know he means them. You can feel his stiff length press into your wet heat from where it remains in his boxers. You hesitate, though, head falling forward out of its hazy droop.

“Huh?”

Marcus leans back. His thumb finds your bottom lip. His eyes find yours, and he asks again: “Do you me to fuck you?”

Your mouth runs dry, cunt quivering (the traitorous bitch). You nod, eager, swaths of damp hair falling before your eyes. “Uh-huh.”

He’s out of his boxers before you can blink, cock resting heavy against the trail of hair sprinkled over his stomach. You would quip something about how impatient he is, but he maneuvers you well, firm hands guiding, leading, until you’re sinking down the shaft of his cock, your slick (an overabundance these days) easing the transition.

“Oh shit.” He grits the expletive between clenched teeth. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Once pushed to the hilt of you, he rocks his hips forward once, and your eyes roll back into your skull. You think you can see pink brain matter, on the verge of turning to sheer goop after the slightest stretch of his cock in your cunt.

God, you’re sensitive when you’re pregnant. He can pull an orgasm from you in no trouble at all, and you love it—fuck, you love it. He’s come home from the office one too many times to be proper just to ruin you on the kitchen floor while the house is empty of peering eyes and listening ears. You love it then—when you can wail loud enough to disturb the neighbors as he rubs your clit to oblivion—and you love it now, when you stamp down your moan with a tight clamp of your teeth on your lip to keep from waking your daughter, asleep in the basement, summertime video game session long gone silent.

He holds still after the initial entrance of his cock. His pulse, hot and heavy in his length, throbs in your core—thump thump, thump thump, thump thump. You shift with a small whimper, eyes fluttering open as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Marcus,” you whine, voice soaked with childish inflection. “Come on, don’t be like that. You said you’d fuck me.” Unbidden, your lower lip puckers—and you would feel ashamed at your neediness, but you can’t find it within you. There’s only him inside you now, him and that sparkling little seedling your nurture day after day.

“And I will,” he says, but he’s not looking at you. He eyes your breasts, their newfound heft, and his hands lift, palms cupped. “But damn, honey, let me look at these a minute.”

His hands fall to your breasts, rough calluses on his thumbs (too much time at the shooting range) course against your tender flesh. Like the well-thought man he is, he inspects their weight, judging the plushness around your ribs and the way his fingertips dimple their gentle rise. He brushes a thumb over either nipple, and you inhale sharply, shiver coiling down your stiff spine.

“Can I—” His breath ghosts over your left breast, a hot wave of desire and unspoken need. He squeezes your flesh, and a single bud of liquid pearls at your nipple. Not the first you’ve seen, but Marcus stares at it in such a way, it’s like the first time all over again, when you stood in the bathroom, breath caught in your throat.

You raise shaking fingers to drag your nails through his hair. A nervous laugh bubbles to your lips. “I never took you for such a tits man. Thought you were more of an ass kinda guy.”

His eyes flick to yours; an endless pit of lust swallows his irises. “Yeah, I am.” He grabs a fistful of your rump just to make the point, but then he returns his gaze to your chest. “There’s just something about these when they—” A shuddering breath, and his hips jolt, swollen length moving along your walls.

Without warning, he surges forward, mouth caught around the peak of your breast. Your head drops back, hands trembling against his neck as he swirls his tongue over your nipple.

“Oh god—M-Marcus, shit, that feels good.”

He feels divine: strong arms around your waist, warm mouth dragging wet paths between your breasts, rigid length sheathed in the core made just for him. Hot, sticky arousal floods your center, and your hips move forward. He groans as you circle, grinding low against him, enough to send the throb in your body to a full scale ache. And then—

And then he sucks—hard—against your breast, and you cry out in a combination of surprise and relief so sudden you stop moving, frozen in place. Stunned.

He draws back. A red flush creeps over his cheeks, and his fingers press into your hips. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t—I mean, I—”

You slot your mouth over his, tongue parting his lips as you search for that essence of yourself he took from you not a moment before. You find it, warm and bitter on his tongue, and you moan at the taste.

“Do it again,” you say. He blinks, so you repeat yourself, firmer, authoritative. "Do it. Again."

He returns to your breasts with feverish need. One palm on either breast, and his tongue bouncing between either nipple, lapping at whatever paltry beads you have to give him. He drinks like a kitten after a long day of raucous play, like a dirt-smudged child in for a cool glass and fresh peanut butter sandwich.

Your skin feels hot. Your hips cant forwards and backwards, digging deep as he drinks—fucking drinks—from your body, some vampiric sense overtaking him. Overtaking you as you allow the depraved thing to happen in the warm light of your bedroom.

It’s easy—the orgasm that washes over you as you ride his length and your clit catches on his skin. You shudder with it, a gentle wave that douses your sweaty skin.

Marcus lifts his face, swipes a hand over his mouth. “Did you just cum?” The glint in his eye tells you he isn’t mad, but you won’t let him off the hook, the teasing git.

You huff. “Did you just suck milk out of my tits?”

His eyebrows lift in concession. “Fair enough.”

You angle your mouth over his, kissing him deep, before saying, “Now fuck me.”

“Mm—yes, ma’am.”

His hands find your hips, head pushed back against the padded headboard. Together, you set a pace; always together. He moves easy through your tight walls, the slick of your previous orgasm softening the movement. You push into your knees, lifting your hips as he jerks upwards, filling you with the entirety of his length at once.

You brace your hands against his chest; his heartbeat slams against your palm. “Just like that,” you whisper. “Fuck me just like that.”

Back and forth, tandem riders on the universe’s oldest bike. You feel so full you could burst with starlight, stuffed to the point you aren’t sure where you end and he begins. His cock splits you open in a slow dance, an unhurried rhythm of adoration that makes you feel ethereal in all the best ways. No matter the stretch marks at your hips and the dark line descended from your belly button, he makes you feel like a goddess. You sit back on a moan, dragging your fingers through your hair to grip something lest you float away.

He trails a hand over your bump. “S’beautiful, all full of my baby.”

You open your eyes, smile down at him, swivel your hips in such a way he groans, muscle in his neck bulging. “Yeah, your baby.” Your chest flutters as the words part your lips—your baby. Never did you think you’d find someone—never did you dare hope that—Your grin widens. “Your baby boy.”

Marcus stutters to a screeching halt, thrusts dead in the water. His eyes pop open, and for a moment, the lust constricts, sharpening to a pinpoint of surprise. His chest heaves, labored breathing a sharp gasp in the quiet room.

Realization dawns like a slap in the face.

“Oh fuck!” You clap your hand over your mouth. A rush of shame and regret turns your nakedness revealing—Adam and Eve caught in the garden—and you push your arms over your breasts in a poor attempt to cover yourself. “Oh fuck—Marcus! Shit, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want to know and I did, but—oh my god, I swore I wouldn’t tell you and—”

He lays a hand on your arm, fingers wrapped around your wrist. “Boy?” He shakes his head as though he doesn’t believe it. “Did you say—Are we having a boy?”

“I-I don’t know if—”

He shakes his head again, this time his senses returned, and his grip on your wrist softens. “It’s okay. You can—Please, tell me.”

Shoulders dropping, you nod. “Yeah.” Your fingers find the fine hair on his stomach, toying with it in nervous circles. “Yeah, we’re having a boy.”

Marcus kisses you—kisses you so deep you feel his tongue in the deepest parts of your throat, his mouth drowning any further apology you possess.

Then he shifts—shifts lower on the bed so that his head rests on his pillow—and he bends his knees, feet planted firm on the mattress. His hands grip your waist, and you inhale, caught askew in the ravenous look in his eyes.

“Marcus…” His name begins a question, ends a punch-drunk cry.

He jackhammers his cock into your melting cunt. You squeak, lurching forward to grab the top of the bed frame for support. Over and over, an unrelenting surge of quick, fast paced punches that tear you inside out. He’s feral, practically frothing at the mouth, a tight grit to his teeth and furrow in his brow. You’ve never seen him so concentrated, so unhinged. It makes your pussy drench, soaking through whatever dignity you have left.

The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust. Your mouth hangs open, the only sound you can make a juvenile uhhhhh, like a kid anticipating the descent of a steep roller coaster as the cart bounces over gears and levers.

“Don’t—Don’t—” He gasps for breath. “Don’t w-wake the kid.”

Tears prick your eyes, and you fall forward, hand sliding from the headboard with a sodden drag. You catch yourself on either side of Marcus’s head, forehead to forehead. Something stiff and plastic digs into the palm of your left hand, but you don’t have the willpower to move. Not with Marcus slamming into you like he is, taking and giving and taking every ounce of your strength.

The TV on the dresser ratchets louder and louder, volume increasing until it drowns out the slap of skin on skin. The sports announcer shouts over the din of the crowd—I think the Sixers thought the game was over, but it was called a two on the floor. Can you imagine if they changed it to a three?—but you aren’t listening. Your thoughts have reduced to an incoherent babble, and Marcus is the benefactor of every word.

“Oh, Marcus. I can’t—m’fuck—right there, right there.”

If it’s possible, you feel him swell within you, expanding the walls of your cunt on a sharp groan. He releases one hip to root for your clit between smooshed bodies. “Wanna—shit, ‘m gonna cum, but-but I wanna see you. Shine for me, baby, huh? You got one more in you?”

“Mhm. Yeah—yeah, I do.”

With the increased size of your stomach, Marcus can barely fit his thumb over your clit; it’s a tight squeeze. But he’s there, pad of his finger against the swollen nub like a godsend. He ruts into you, swirling the pearled bud around, around, around, shattering you on his length until—until—

You explode, cumming with a sharp cry and the collapse of your limbs. The orgasm rips through you, forcing out any negative thought you previously held about your body. Marcus loves you, he worships you, he drinks from your soul and gives back as good as he takes. You know it; you know it; you know it.

Limp against his chest, he takes you through your high and into his own with little preamble. His seed floods your cut, oozing out to wet the bedsheets and dry against your skin. His hips stammer as he groans through his release, and then he’s softening, his length and his arms, his entire body sinking into the mattress as he comes down from the mountaintop.

Silence—comfortable, simple—remains in the few seconds post-bliss.

Then Marcus finds the remote, turning the TV down, as he says, “They kept it a two. The Sixers lost.”

You laugh, cheek bouncing against his chest. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He shrugs. His sweaty skin peels against yours. “It’s okay. We’ll get ‘em next time.”

His hand traces lazy circles over your spine for a moment before he rolls to the side, taking you with him. The movement unsheathes his length from your core, and a trail of cum leaks over your inner thigh. You might need another shower; might need to shower together if you’re going to sleep well in this heat…

Marcus props his head up on his chin and drifts his pointer finger over your jaw. His eyes are soft, pleading in their innocence and hopefulness. “Are we really having a boy?”

You nod with a sleepy smile. “Scout’s honor.”

His fingers return to hold your chin as he bends to seal his lips over yours. A smooth movement, lips a paintbrush, skin a canvas, as he works his way from mouth to cheek to tender spot behind your ear. You giggle—girlish and simpering—wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he curves into your embrace.

“You’re happy then? Even if I ruined the surprise?”

When he speaks, you feel his words vibrate against your chest. A sex-happy weariness coats his throat, and you preen under that. Your doing and your doing alone. “I’d be happy no matter what, even if you gave birth to a fuzzy Yoda-looking thing, but yeah—I’m happy.”

“Good.”

He leans back, finds your gaze, smiles so the crinkles around his eyes fold into loveliness. “Good.”

“Carry me to the shower, Mr. Moreno? I think you made me all sticky again.”

“Gladly, Mrs. Moreno.”

You find, then, as Marcus slips into the shower behind you, washes your hair and holds the swell of your stomach in his hands, that you cannot be any happier than this. You turn to peer out the wet shower glass, into the foggy mirror above the sink.

A woman stares at you, stomach round with child, eyes glassy with satisfaction. A man behind her, broad and tan and everything— everything. You lift a hand, wiggle your fingers when Marcus bends to grab the loofa from the floor. The woman waves back, and you smile. She smiles too.

The woman is you.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pm writes

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joshslater · 3 years

Text

Dionysus

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I was very hesitant when he picked me up at the nightclub. I could feel the disappointment and outright hostility from all the women and a lot of the men as the God walked up to me, started to make out, and then asked if I was up for some fun. That's what you get away with when no one ever says "no" I thought. With his incredibly handsome face, black hair, and athletic build that was probably not a word he was used to hearing. It would be impossible for him to know I was into guys, and coming on so strong could land you in hot water or rather knocked cold on the floor. Turns out he could know, and there was more to him than just utter handsomeness and unparalleled confidence. Way more.

It was back at his place he asked me if I could look like someone else, who would I pick? That's a game I've played many times before, so I instantly knew to answer Marco Albieri, the soccer player. He raised an eyebrow, took a step from me, and asked me why. "I don't know what it is about soccer players, but something about the game makes their bodies stunningly handsome. And Marco is just a step above the rest." He smiled a bright smile, made a dramatic gesture, and I was Marco. Looked exactly like him at least. It took me a moment to even realize what had just happened, but I could see myself in the full-length mirror. Or I couldn't, I should say. I saw Marco Albieri in full Paris Saint-Germain F.C. game kit. Mesmerized I took a step closer to the mirror, and Marco on the other side of the glass stepped closer as well. I looked just like him, my wettest, wankiest dream. I'd come so many times to exactly this fantasy. There was even a sheen of post-game sweat making all the skin glistening in his hallway designer lights.

He approached me from behind, still handsome but now by a much narrower margin. "You ready to fuck?" I didn't even answer but just turned around and kissed him. He wasn't shy in grouping me back. What followed was the longest fuck fest I've ever been part of. We went from room to room. It was like this body had limitless stamina, though it was the body of Marco after all, but an insatiable horny lust as well. Perhaps he had that too. It wasn't until early morning I fell asleep next to him, exhausted.

It was almost noon when I woke up, disoriented by everything. It was like it wasn't until now the craziness and impossibility of last night hit me. I could see Marco Albieri in the mirror at the other side of the bedroom, without shirt, and the most unkempt hair I had ever seen him with. I knew for a fact the secret hairstyling trick was body fluids. I suddenly felt very uneasy and exposed. Vulnerable even. I was here on vacation. How could I leave if I didn't look like my passport? How could I leave this building looking like Marco? There would be fans stopping me instantly. What the fuck am I thinking about? I'm erased from the world. No one I know, no one in my family would recognize me. Could I convince them I'm me and not a millionaire soccer player? Perhaps. But my life would be so complicated.

That's when he lazily strolled into the bedroom, completely naked showing off his chiseled body, one mug in each hand.

"You did this! How the fuck did you do this? You can't leave me like this!" "Morning!"

He handed me one of the mugs. On reflex I took a large sip of coffee only to discover it was red wine. It took me by surprise and I almost sprayed his white sheets with red mist of wine, but instead got some down my lungs and started to cough.

"Is this really the best you can think of?" he said. At first I had no idea what he meant. Then, still coughing, I realized it was my body again. The one I used to fly here, check into the hotel, and go out to nightclubs with.

"I... It's awfully inconvenient if I tried to leave with a different body." "That's it? That's the only reason?"

I felt stupid and unsure what to say. I liked my body, so why was it so hard to defend it? He took a large sip from his coffee mug of wine and climbed into bed next to me, but standing on his knees looking down on me.

"When's your flight back?" "Eh, in... On Sunday." "Plenty of time to let loose. How about going to the beach like this?"

This time I noticed the shift. The bed sagged down a bit under the extra load and I didn't even have to look in the mirror to see the freakish muscles. Two huge chest muscles peeked into my field of vision, and moving my arm I could see it was thicker than what my legs used to be.

I felt light-headed as we walked down to the beach. Probably the wine. He was subtle and classy, black Nike sneakers, black boardshorts, and a white T-shirt. I was anything but subtle. Probably twice his mass, annoying flip flops that flipped and flopped every step, white compression shorts that looked blindingly bright against my deep tan, a purple thong that peeked up over the rim of the shorts by the hips, visible because the neon yellow tank top was cropped above the belly button to show off the abs. The stringer waved for every step as my obscene pecs push out the yellow fabric like a hanging flag. It touched my body in surprisingly few places. Top of the traps and the nipples more or less.

After spending a few hours getting everyone passing by on the beach to turn their heads to observe the freak show he asked me to play floatation device for him. We went out in the water and did our best to have sex just outside where the waves broke. I think anyone who paid close attention could tell what we did, but no one could be really sure. He didn't appear to care.

"I made you something," he whispered. "What?" "A surfer," he said and begun walking towards the beach. As I wiped my long hair out of my face I understood he changed me again. No more shaved head, no more enormous meat slab. I still had a six-pack, I was still 6'-something, and my skin was deeply tanned, but that's about where the similarities ended. "Why?" I asked as I lied down on the beach towel next to his. "First dive bar opens soon, and I thought this would play better to the crowd." I was feeling woozy. "We want to play to the crowd?" He reached over and squeezed the pec closest to him. "Well, make them jealous at least."

There was something nagging at the edge of my thoughts. Some question I felt I needed to ask. I just couldn't quite put it into coherent thought.

"Did you drug me?" He made a high-pitched "Mmmm" sound. "Just a bit. To fit with the rest. Just go with it."

I shut my eyes, relaxed, and let his hand stroke me. I don't know how long we lied like that. Not too long, because the sun hadn't moved that much, but I sure did dozed off.

"Come on!" he said, like it was asking me to hurry up for the third time. A bit confused I got up from the beach towel. I wore a pair of eye-popping turquoise board shorts with black pattern and trim. Neon turquoise, if such a color was a thing. I knew it had a real trade name, but somehow it kept slipping my mind. They had a good fit, not loose, not tight, but rode low on my lithe body. Fuzzy pubes peeked out over the waistband, like a little forest edge where the treasure trail from the belly button ended. I looked around for a shirt or something to put on, but there was nothing except for a pair of flip-flops. These didn't look as cheap and fit much better than the previous pair though.

"Is that it?" I asked incredulously. "What more do you need?" he said, and looked at me like he wanted me for dinner. "Come!"

The bar wasn't far away and already busy when we arrived. He almost danced in, basically dragging me in, holding my hand. I was woozy from whatever I was drugged with, but in a way that made everything look amazing to me. In any direction I looked I was delighted by what I saw, no matter how mundane. The bar was not even half full and everyone looked as relaxed as you would expect from a bar half a block from the beach, though no one else was bare-chested. The decor was a random mix of styles, as expected by a dive bar. Tables for two or four were lined up in front of the bar at the back of the room. From a backroom somewhere behind it pumped music. I looked at my watch to see if it was already dance time, but I was only wearing a red nylon cord as a bracelet.

"You must be thirsty after a day in the sun," he said and handed me an Aperol Spritz. I could have sworn he hadn't left me for the bar, but then I didn't really trust my senses. We took a table for four and sat next to each other, facing the rest of the room. "So, tell me about your day," he continued, as if he hadn't been there for all of it.

For whatever reason I found it hard to figure out where to start, like it was all jumbled together despite nothing of consequence had happened. I began to describe how I had woken up in bed and how he surprised me with breakfast. How I had mistaken the red wine for coffee. I could feel his hand moving down my abs and into my board shorts. As he pulled out my erect cock from the shorts my immediate thought was of surprise. I hadn't realized I was hard. I continued to talk about how we went to the beach, while he was jerking me off with one hand under the table. It then hit me that I had no idea what my dick looked like, if it was big or small. I had never seen it. He had transformed me somehow into this surfer. How could I have forgotten something so monumental.

At that point I shot my load under the table. Four or five large pumps. I was suddenly aware again that there were people around us, and looking around tried to figure out if any of them could see I had my dick out. At the same time I was still feeling high or whatever it was. "I'll get a refill," he said, stood up and headed for the bar. I decided to put my dick back into the shorts.

"Hey, dude. Is he like your boyfriend?" someone standing next to me asked. How long had he been there? He was handsome, not quite as tall as I was now, but more muscled. The tight billabong shirt didn't hide much. "Him? No. We just..." I was trying to think of a good word. I wasn't sure what he was, or what was happening at all really. "Wanna check out the dance floor?" "Yeah... Yeah, I would."

I followed him towards the bar, and away to the side into the dance room. It was far from packed, but we were not alone at least. Immediately I regretted following him there, even before he started moving to the music. Once he did I knew I would look silly. I started to mimic his moves best I could. He smiled a crooked smile, though not an unkind one, when he saw what I was doing. He leaned forward and barely audible over the music asked "Are you up for a second round?"

"What do you mean?" I asked back. "I saw what that other dude did to you. I live nearby, if you want to try something that isn't over in minutes."

In the door opening I see him standing with two large drinks in his hands. He looks emotionless, which in itself was a scary contrast to how he looked before. He then drinks one of the drinks in one go, then immediately empties the other one as well. No sooner has he turned away with two empty glasses when I feel a desperate need to take a piss. He's fucking with me.

"Don't go anywhere," I say and dash towards to men's room.

It's empty. I go to the lone urinal and yank my dick out of the white thong. I'm confused, but happy I got there in time to relieve myself. Why am I wearing only a white thong to a bar? As the piss is streaming for longer than I can ever recall I look down my bare smooth legs and find a pair of eye-catching red hightops. When I'm finally done I have a look at myself in the mirror. Cute, young Latino boy with a red baseball cap on his unkempt hair, and a grey shirt. The shirt in a way makes the thong stand out even more and look intentionally inappropriate. Perfect!

I return to the dance floor and find the guy waiting. "There you are. Let's go!" he says, almost demanding. He doesn't say anything on the way to his apartment two blocks away. I keep looking his way, and it feels like my dick is growing bigger every time I look at those muscled arms. His pace is brisk without being conspicuous, he clearly wants us to get to his place as quickly as possible without being seen. In through an unlocked entrance, up two flights of stairs, and in through his apartment door.

As soon as he whisked me in and closed the door behind us he grabs me, shoves me into the wall next to us, and forcefully kisses me on my mouth. "You fucking whore! I'm so fucking horny you better know what you're doing."

He snores loudly again. I had tried to ignore it to spend a few more hours in the bed, but it's getting pointless to try to sleep any more. I carefully get up and get dressed. No need for a shower, now that everything dried. I make a final check I got everything with me that I brought in. There is that nagging feeling that I'm missing something. Well, whatever it was it can't be important. Quietly I exit his apartment and make my way out of the building. I feel restless being so quiet and calm, like it is unnatural for me to be that way. I basically explode in emotions as I exit the building and literally dance down the last few steps.

I try to think what to do next. My mind is like a spinning punch bowl of thoughts and I'm only able to fish out simple verbs. Party! Drink! Dance! Fuck! The sun is barely up, but perhaps I can find some nightclub still open.

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arinbelle · 3 years

Text

Suits

Notes: I can't believe I actually did this. It started as a harmless post by @nessiansimp and here we are. I did not edit this much. I just wrote it non-stop for 3 hours because I couldn't not. Also, I know the title is basic. I don't care. I'm obsessed with Suits right now so that's what you're getting. Also, I know nothing about law school except for Legally Blonde, Suits, and Google searches. So I apologize in advance for all the stuff I portray incorrectly.

Summary: Nesta is stressed the day before her first day of classes in Law School. She calls up a familiar face to set herself at ease, not realizing just what trouble she's about to get into. A student/teacher fic. Everyone is an adult!

Warnings: NSFW, swearing

~*~

Nesta turned her phone on and off again, for the sixth time in a row. She needed to get her head straight.

She'd be starting school again tomorrow. Her first day of law school. Her first day of law school.

Fuck, she needed a drink. Or dick. Preferably both.

But there was no way he was awake at...she glanced at the clock. Way past midnight. No way in hell.

It won't hurt to try.

No it definitely wouldn't. The worst that could happen was he didn't pick up, and Nesta went to bed like she should have done 3 hours ago. But the nerves...

The nerves were going to end her if she didn't let herself loose a little.

Picking up her phone one more time, dialing the number from memory, she lifted it to her ear, listening to the ring and wondering if she'd hear something different.

"Yeah?"

The voice was deep and masculine and utterly perfect. At least, she'd found it to be, from the second she'd heard it.

"Can you come over?" Nesta didn't bother with trivial cover-ups. She needed to sleep and she had no plans of using alcohol to get it done. Not the day before classes started. Mindblowing sex would just have to do for the night.

Nesta couldn't see his face, but she knew the grin that'd be playing on his face at her request. He'd say yes. He always did. And within fifteen minutes, she heard the knock on her apartment door, telling her that she had been right to call him.

He hadn't let her down yet.

Cassian looked just as good at two in the morning as he did at any normal hour of the day. Shirt clinging to his muscled torso, a peek of black ink at his collar that she knew crept all over his chest, back and arms. And the telltale leather jacket that had made her want him in the first place. It was either that or the hair. Or the hazel eyes. Maybe it was just all of him. He was too beautiful for words on most days, and in her current sleep-deprived state, Cassian looked like a god.

A smirk played on his lips as he asked her, "Are you going to stare all day or can I at least come in first before you jump me?"

Nesta rolled her eyes but moved away from the doorway to let him in. He snuck in a quick glance at her own attire and she inwardly cringed at the fact that she was wearing only an oversized T-shirt and no pants. Not that it really mattered considering what they were about to go on to do. But, that stupid smirk on his face, the knowing look in his eyes, had her irritated.

Insufferable ass. That was why she'd kept it so casual with him. Gods knew they'd tear each other to pieces if it ever became more than just physical between them.

Cassian didn't go to her bedroom, instead stopping in her small kitchenette, drinking from her bottle in the fridge. It was almost domestic to see it happen, and Nesta almost laughed at it. Almost even smiled at him and the sight of him like this.

Almost.

"Let's go, I have an early morning tomorrow," she called from the hallway, knowing he'd follow. He knew the layout of her small but functional apartment. She knew all about his too considering she preferred to go over to his place rather than he come to her.

She didn't like to show the cheap secondhand furniture she'd purchased with Emerie and Gwyn's help from a thrift store. Or the fraying carpet and cramped hallways. It was home for her. At least for now. But that didn't mean she didn't feel slightly embarrassed by it each time Cassian visited.

She likely never would have felt so strongly about it, had she not gone home with him one night instead of the other way around.

Condo didn't seem like a good enough word. Cassian was rich. In all the ways that Nesta's family had been a long time ago. Maybe he was richer. She really didn't know nor was she going to ask. All she knew was that his bedsheets felt like heaven and everything in that damned apartment was a guilty pleasure. From the type of coffee he had to the stupid multiple settings in his showerhead.

Cassian entering the room behind her dragged her away from her thoughts on who had more money and better showerheads.

He'd taken off the leather jacket somewhere and Nesta took in the plain black button up that outlined the cord of muscles all over him. She wanted to tear it off of him.

Cassian began unbuttoning his shirt walking towards her. Nesta backed up, caught in his thrall, in the snare of his glinting eyes. When he reached her, the back of her legs had already hit the mattress of her bed. His shirt had already been discarded. Nesta raised a hand to his chest, to trace the tattoos, to maybe follow the outline with her tongue afterwards.

But Cassian caught her by the wrist, stopping her advances. He went for her shirt instead. Pulling it up above her waist and then her head as she lifted her arms to help him.

He growled as he took her in then. She hadn't bothered with a bra. Just a lacy black underwear she'd forgotten she owned until after Cassian had told her he was coming.

"That's a nice surprise," he muttered, ducking his head down towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, expecting a kiss.

Instead Cassian bypassed her lips, going straight for her peaked nipples.

The first flick of his tongue had her reeling. The hot and wet sensation had her keening into him for more. Looping her fingers into his belt and pulling his closer as he kissed a path up her chest and nuzzled her neck. Pressed a kiss to a spot under her ear that made her whimper and wetness to pool between her legs.

Then she got a hold of herself.

"Get on with it," she warned, breathless and not quite in any shape to be making demands. Cassian seemed to think the same thing because when he kissed her, he nipped just a touch harder than usual on her bottom lip. Just this side of pain and pleasure and enough to cause Nesta to moan into his mouth. He swallowed that moan up with a long, languorous drag of his tongue against hers.

Quicker than she'd expected, Cassian had wrapped a hand across her waist and she'd locked her legs behind his back as he put them both down on her bed.

Gasping for air, she broke their kiss and Cassian used it to drag his mouth lower. Lower. Lower...

"Yes," she hissed, as Cassian pushed the lace fabric to the side and dragged his tongue down her sex. She could feel how wet she already was, how wet he was making her with his tongue. With how good he was tasting her.

Cassian broke away from her skin, lips glistening as he smiled at her, and with her head still fogged up from a near orgasm, Nesta returned it. Never mind that she didn't like to show any softness like that to anyone to, especially not in these moments. But he'd broken down her defenses with that infuriatingly talented mouth of his. Had almost brought her to lay herself bare to him in ways that sex never had before.

Cassian hooked his fingers into the sides of her underwear and made to pull down.

"Lift up for me baby."

She did and the cool air hit her already warmed and wet skin, making the sensation all the more delicious when he fastened his mouth back onto her clit, and began all over again.

Cassian didn't take off his pants even when she'd asked him to. He'd made her come once with his mouth. She'd stayed there on bed, catching her breath for just a minute before reaching for his belt.

Cassian had denied her, catching her by the ankle and pressing a soft kiss to the skin there before working his way back up. Running his lips over her calves, her knees, the insides of her thighs. And then he'd eaten her out again, much to her protest in the beginning. But she'd quickly forgotten that she'd asked him here to fuck her when he dipped his tongue inside of her, curling upwards while she cried out his name over and over. Until her climax had been wrung out of her in an almost dizzying finale.

Then and only then had he let her undo the buckle at his hips, a cool, wicked smile dancing on his face at her eagerness. She'd opened the zip and almost slipped her hand in to palm him right then and there, but Cassian had laughed at that and pulled away. Moving off the bed to discard his pants himself before joining her again.

Nesta's mouth had dried as she'd taken him in. Naked. Hard. His cock already dripping with moisture at the tip. She wanted him in her mouth. Wanted to taste him. Feel him along her tongue, along her lips until she could take him deep in her throat.

"What are you doing?," Cassian asked with a laugh, grabbing her wrists again and hauling her under him.

Nesta huffed. "What did it look like I was doing? I was going to suck your-"

Cassian silenced her with a kiss.

"That mouth will be the death of me," he muttered, kissing her again and she couldnt help but twine her fingers into his hair. And pull slightly.

"Maybe you should fuck it and make it better," she whispered, dragging her tongue along his jaw and down his neck. Biting at the delicate skin there. Cassian didn't even flinch at the teeth marks she'd left behind beside the tattoo along the column of his throat.

Cassian chuckled darkly at her antics. "Maybe I'll just fuck you instead."

"It would be about time," she shot back, not at all caring how he'd take it. How he'd make her beg for being so mouthy.

Cassian seemed to even consider it. She could practically hear the thoughts in his head. But in the end, Cassian instead settled on leaning back until he rested on his knees before her. Kneeling he grabbed her legs, hauling her closer as he pulled them up until their undersides rested on his chest. Her feet hooked over his shoulders as her hips became flush with his own. With the hard demanding press of his cock against her sex, Nesta couldn't help but writhe desperately, craving any friction she could get.

Cassian didn't enter her right away, choosing instead to take his two fingers and place them at her mouth. Nesta took them in, swirled her tongue over them as she bobbed her head like she was sucking him off instead.

"You look perfect like that," he breathed, when she let his fingers go with a pop. Nesta didn't respond to the compliment. Not when he dragged those fingers through her folds, smearing her wetness around her clit until a soft, glowing pleasure began to build.

He entered her slowly. Much too slowly for her to take it well. Stretching and filling, in and in and in he sank. Deeper in until there was no more room for him to go. It was always too much for her. In those initial moments that he entered her. Nesta swore she stopped breathing every time he filled her up. Swore he'd filled her to a breaking point, no matter how burning and good it felt. But he'd always done it so fast, the moment of breathlessness was there and gone. A moment barely captured in the sharp intake of air she took.

But today, he'd gone slow. Had given her time to adjust although, with his size, it didn't really matter how fast or slow he went. He'd always be a touch too large for her. Just this side of stretching pain, which she loved even if she never admitted it to him.

And when he fucked her, it wasn't their characteristic way of doing so. There was no savage pounding of him into her, so hard and rough she could only scream most of the time. There was no dragging of nails across skin that sometimes drew blood. Nor any bites or bruises that she often loved to look over when he was long gone.

She couldn't lie and say this slower, almost romantic way of fucking didn't have her heart pounding for a different reason.

Because it did.

Almost as if he were making love to her. Something they'd never bothered with before. She supposed something in her had told him she was upset. That she'd needed the reassurance of his body in more than just their casual fucking ways.

As he drove his hips upward into her over and over, rocking on his knees as he held her legs tight against him, Nesta couldn't help but let the tumble of cries and moans fall out of her mouth. Not when he went faster, hit that spot deep inside her that had her on the verge of screaming her throat raw. Not when she came in a glorious crest that made everything bad go away from her mind. In that stilted moment stuck between reality and forever, Nesta had felt peace. Had forgotten her worries and troubles and the whole reason behind why she'd called Cassian over in the first place. Instead, she let it go through her until she was boneless and spent, Cassian now no longer thrusting into her, but his hard cock still inside.

He'd made her come first. Had made sure she'd come at least three times tonight with not one care at all for himself. It shouldn't have bothered her so much. After all, they just fucked. It wasn't a serious relationship. Yet it bothered her enough that when she caught her breath, Nesta unhooked her legs from his shoulders and pushed him down to where she'd been.

Climbed over him and sank down without a moment's hesitation, causing Cassian to groan aloud at the sheer ecstasy she too was witnessing.

That second time, she made sure he became unchecked and wild. No matter that she rode him. Nesta had circled his wrists and placed his powerful hands at her hips.

"Fuck me as hard as you want," she told him, leaving his hands tightening at her hips. "I want to feel it when I move tomorrow," she added salaciously.

Cassian seemed to appreciate that. When he thrust up into her those final times, Nesta swore she saw stars dance across her vision with her head thrown back. When she came to, pleasure slowly leaving her body, Cassian was panting just as hard underneath her, softening inside her and leaking out.

It had been his climax, the moan he'd let out as he'd reached that precarious precipice, so close to falling off, that had made Nesta come. She'd known how close he was, and so she'd flexed her inner muscles once, twice, and the sound of his moaning her name had had her tightening involuntarily as her orgasm crashed through her. He'd followed not long after and she'd cried out his name along with an incoherent mess of sounds she'd deny he'd ever gotten out of her.

Cassian had let himself take a minute to recover, and then he was pulling her off of him, walking over to the bathroom joined to her room. She'd heard the run of water and soon he returned with a warm, wet washcloth to clean between her thighs. It was moments like this where she was glad of being with Cassian, even if it was just for sex. Her past whatever they should be called weren't very good in bed. And they weren't very good out of it either. Nesta had opted for condoms then, when she'd hated having to waddle over to the bathroom, some stranger man's release dripping out of her.

It wasn't until after she'd fully caught her breath, gotten up to pee because she'd be damned if she got a UTI tonight, and taken a long swig of her water bottle that Cassian had brought over, that Nesta settled down. Pulled the covers up to her breasts, not bothering to get dressed, and just breathed.

Cassian had pulled his boxer briefs back on, but that was all. His clothes still lay discarded haphazardly around her room, although that was the deal for most things in her room anyways, so she shouldn't be surprised. Cassian seemed to think the same thing as he looked up from typing something on his phone, surveying the room around him with a hint of distaste on his face.

Her hackles began rising. No she didn't like her place that much either when remembering the type of place Cassian lived in. But that didn't mean she'd take shit from him about it.

Before she could say anything though, Cassian turned his attention to her, "Who lives like this?"

"I beg your pardon," she spluttered, not expecting that as his first comment on the state of her home.

"I mean," he gestured around them, "why is it so messy? Have you never cleaned up your room?"

Nesta snorted. "What am I a child and you my mom? It's my place. I'll keep my room as tidy or not as I like."

Gods knew she'd earned it after the way she'd been living before.

"Very mature," Cassian remarked, shaking his head in disbelief as he went back to whatever was going on in his phone.

"I think so," she added, rather coldly if were being honest with herself.

Cassian was older than her. Not old enough for it to be creepy or gross, but old enough for Nesta to know he no longer ate ramen for dinner because he was behind on student loans. Old enough to keep things like bourbon and whiskey and other really old bottles of liquor he often poured for her when she went over. It was a stark contrast to the refreshments she could offer. Hard lemonade or coke was about it in terms of choices.

Cassian had flicked his eyes up at her from her sudden change in tone but had decided not to comment, going back to whatever business he was attending to. Or texting to, whichever it was.

She had no idea what he did. Just that he was rich, gorgeous, drove a really fast, really expensive car, and that he could fuck her silly.

She'd seen the college diploma in a wall in his living room in passing. A few family photos with two other men that looked like him in the way people from the same country often did. He'd mentioned his foster brothers to her a few times. Nothing about foster care itself, and she hadn't felt it right to pry. Not when she wasn't sure what exactly they were.

They weren't supposed to be anything anyways if she really thought about it. She'd run into him in a club of all places. He'd been with his brothers- she'd found out months later- and hadn't wanted to be there. She'd been dragged along by Emerie and Gwyn for Gwyn's 21st birthday celebration. Nesta who was already 22, hadn't been as excited to go to a club when she'd been sneaking into them since she was 16. But Gwyn was her best friend so she had relented. Once Gwyn had come across some handsome tall stranger on the dance floor, Nesta had been left behind. Emerie finding her own dance partner in the form of a petite, curly haired woman named Maria hadn't helped Nesta's situation.

In her haste to go home, or at least take a breather from the stuffy nightclub, Nesta had run into a very large, very solid mass of some sort.

It had been Cassian. With his infuriating smile, disarming charm, that leather jacket and those fucking tattoos. She'd chewed him out for not watching where he was going.

Then she'd let him fuck her in front seat of his car. Or, she'd fucked him. It didn't really matter to her anymore. It had been the best sex of her life and when he called her up a few days later, Nesta hadn't hesitated to let him come over to her apartment.

Gwyn had been horrified when she'd found out. Emerie had warned her about bringing home a serial killer. But it had already been done and Nesta had known deep down, she'd never be the same again. Her friends didn't really get it. Their entire situation, but Nesta didn't really care about that either.

Cassian was easy. Easy to he around. Easy to talk to. There were no expectations. No rules and no limitations either. He just...was.

And he let Nesta breathe in a way she hadn't thought she would in a long time.

So what if she didn't tell him that she'd gotten into law school after working her ass off in her last year of undergrad? After the hell her junior year had been for her, he was lucky she told him where she had even gone to college. After graduating, Nesta also hadn't told him where she worked. Nothing about the paralegal job, the name of the firm, or the application she'd put into law schools.

She couldn't risk whatever tenuous normalcy she'd finally reached if Cassian did indeed end up becoming a problem for her as Gwyn and Emerie were worried about. Definitely not after she'd worked so hard to get where she was.

In that spirit, Nesta didn't ask about his own life either. Not outside of anything he offered her, which also wasn't much.

She liked that too. No expectations. For all he knew, she was a part-time hooker. But he never asked.

Eventually, Nesta had ended up crawling over to where Cassian had sprawled out on her bed, and tucked herself against his chest as he'd continued typing away. No matter that the blanket had become a bunched mess underneath her or that they never did this. He'd stayed longer than he ever had before and Nesta didn't care if she admitted to herself that she hadn't cuddled with anyone in a long time. Certainly not with anyone worth the effort.

Cassian hadn't seemed miffed at all. Running a hand down her hair as she'd tucked closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Nesta had soon fallen asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

When she came to, Nesta awoke alone. It wasn't the first time. In fact, she'd never not woken up alone after Cassian visited. And yet, after last night, she'd felt some sort of change between them. Had sworn Cassian could too. Which was why his disappearance seemed to harp on her so strongly. Why his text that he'd talk to her later but that he'd had to run to work had left her feeling empty. And when she entered her first class of the day, after barely finding it, and only being on time because she'd come earlier, thoughts of Cassian still swirled around in her mind. More than she ever should have allowed herself to.

Nesta turned on her laptop, taking in the students filing in around her. It was a full class. She'd taken the class on a whim, seeing that it was a seminar that discussed criminal cases, taught by a professor Emerie had said was an easy A if you showed up and talked a few times. Easy enough. Nesta had no plans of messing up her first class of her first day in her first step towards a better life and better future. She'd do the best. Be the best. It was what she'd lived on for most of her life anyways.

As more students filed in, Nesta wondered where the professor was. Emerie had mentioned he was old, sort of deaf, but a softie if you talked to him enough. Yet, everyone looked to be around the same age in the room. No sign of a professor anywhere.

The clock struck 8:00 AM, and as she typed in her password, she saw a figure get up from the front row and make their way to the board.

What idiot was already playing pranks on the still absent professor, on a first day no less, Nesta had no idea. She wanted no part in it though, she knew that much.

"Alright everyone, good morning. I'm sure some of you are wondering where Professor Jackson is. He's unfortunately going through some medical problems and I was asked to step in for him. Now, Professor Jackson taught me, in this very same classroom, in the very same way that he planned to teach all of you. And I'm going to, hopefully, be just as great and inspiring as he was." The man laughed and added, "Hopefully," earning him a round of chuckles scattered across the room.

But Nesta had frozen. Hadn't moved from the moment she'd heard his voice. Because she knew that voice, could pick it out from anywhere. It had been a voice that greeted her with teasing jests every time she glowered at him and his antics. A voice that whispered sweet nothings and the most filthy delicious promises to her when his body pressed her deep into the mattress.

As she stared transfixed in horror towards the front of the room, Cassian smiled brightly towards the class, scanning the room as he opened his mouth.

"My name is Cassian Virin and you can call me either Professor or just Cassian. Either is fine. I'm a practicing attorney at Solis and Vanserra. It's a firm in this city that I'm sure many of you have heard of." More chuckles arose because who the hell hadn't heard of Solis and Vanserra.

"I'm going to be here just for this semester while I also work on some pro bono cases at my firm, and-"

Cassian stopped talking as he finally saw her. She was sure the same panic was evident on her own face that she mirrored in his own. Except Cassian mastered himself faster than she ever could in such a fucked up situation.

Not breaking eye contact with her, Cassian finished his sentence. "And I'll be your teacher this semester for this class. Welcome to Criminal Law.

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davidpastrsnack · 3 years

Text

it’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend - nolan patrick

a/n: here’s a friends to lovers 4+1 with our fav boy loosely inspired by daddy issues by the neighbourhood. but there’s still a splash of smut because you know me lol. hope you enjoy :)

word count: 10.5k

The first time you met Nolan you didn’t know what to think. He was polite, giving you a gentle smile and reaching out to shake your hand, but you couldn’t help but fixate on how quiet he was and his seeming lack of emotion.

Regardless of your hesitation, that was the first time of many that Nolan took care of you.

You were new to Philadelphia, moving to continue your education and expand your horizons. You had always been one to play it safe, to stay in your comfort zone, but after having your heart broken and being unexpectedly accepted to one of the top graduate programs in your field you knew it was time to challenge yourself and leave behind everything you had ever known.

Well, almost everything, aside from Aubrey, one of your best friends since that first day of kindergarten so long ago. She worked in the city, practically begging you to join her when she found out you were considering the move. Just weeks later, the second bedroom in her apartment became yours and that’s how you met him.

one

It was only your third night in Philly and you were still unpacking, a glass of wine sitting on your dresser as you dug through the remaining boxes that were seemingly never-ending. It didn’t seem like this much stuff when you were packing it, but here you were overwhelmed with all of your belongings.

You were humming along to the music, taking it one box at a time as the room slowly came together when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you called, turning to face the door.

“Woah,” Aubrey muttered, “How’s it going in here?”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, “It looks bad but I’m almost there.”

She nodded, stepping into the room and sitting on your bed, “Time for a break?”

You knew what the hopeful smile on her face meant, she had plans for the two of you.

You looked at her with hesitant eyes and she chuckled, remembering how well you knew her.

“I was thinking we could go meet some of my friends?” Aubrey continued, “I’m kind of seeing this one guy and his friends are great. They’re a lot but I think you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Aubrey, I-” You paused, “I really should finish up in here.”

“Come on, Y/N, we have all day tomorrow to finish and you need a break. I feel like I’ve barely even seen you and it’s been three days.”

You let out a laugh at her words, she was right. It felt like your life had been on hold for so long but now you had the opportunity to start fresh, to put yourself out there in a world that had no existing opinions of you.

“Fine,” you groaned, standing up from your spot on the hardwood, “But you have to help me find something to wear.”

“Deal!” Aubrey exclaimed, dragging you out of the room and into her own to go through her closet.

Just over an hour later, you were squeezed into a booth of the bar surrounded by men almost twice your size. Aubrey failed to mention that the guy she was seeing, but not dating as she vehemently claimed, was a Flyer and so were his friends.

You didn’t know what to expect from the group, but it didn’t take long for you to conclude that they were sweethearts, especially Travis, Aubrey’s “friend.” After introducing you to each of them, it felt like you had always been a part of the gang.

The beer and conversation were flowing, the bellowing laughs coming from the table practically feeling the air of the entire bar. You quickly fell into the banter, fitting in right away after growing up with brothers.

“There he is!” You suddenly heard Kevin shout from next to you, “Took you long enough, Patty.”

You looked up from your drink to see the man you could only assume to be Patty, his tall frame towering over you as you sat on the edge of the booth. He was dressed in all black, and his hair was long and frankly, unkempt as it curled around his ears. Even in the dim light of the bar, you could make out his light eyes, the blue piercing you as he finally met your gaze from his seat directly across from yours.

“Nolan, this is my friend Y/N,” Aubrey started, “She just moved in with me.”

Nolan reached out his hand across the table which you happily met, secretly hoping he couldn’t feel how clammy you had gotten since he walked in. He softly smiled as your hands touched, the corners of his mouth barely lifting but just enough.

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

“You too,” you replied, flickering your eyes to the other end of the table before you caught yourself staring.

You were right away distracted by something Travis was chirping Claude for from this morning’s practice, but something about the man sitting just a few feet away from you was still consuming your thoughts.

You were pretty sure he had already decided that he didn’t like you. He had barely said a word aside from his initial pleasantries, but from then on it was almost like he wasn’t even acknowledging your presence. You didn’t know why you even cared, but there was something about his presence that made you on edge.

“I’m going to get another one,” you blurted out, everyone’s attention shifting to you.

“I’ll come with,” Aubrey declared.

“I’m good, stay,” you responded, giving her a knowing look. She was practically sitting in Travis’s lap, her hands wrapped around his neck while his eyes were stuck on her like she was the only one in the room. Not dating, my ass, you thought to yourself.

You slid off the cushion and headed towards the bar, the air already feeling lighter the further away from the group you got. You loved them, they were great, but it was just so much new at once. You needed a breather.

It was a packed Friday night and you knew it would be a while before you got your drink, so you sat down on the first available stool you saw. You caught the bartender's attention right away, but she was clearly swamped. You sent her a reassuring nod, telling her to take her time. She smiled right back at you, evidently grateful for your patience.

After what felt like barely a minute of waiting, you felt a body slide next to yours, the scent of cheap cologne overwhelming you as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.

“Hi there,” he spoke, leaning his weight against the bar top as he boxed you in.

“Hi,” you sighed. To put it simply, you were not in the mood.

“You got a name?”

“I do,” you chuckled in disbelief, turning your body away from his as your eyes scanned the room for anyone familiar. Which of course there wasn’t.

“A snappy one, alright,” he spoke, his hot breath fanning over your neck, “Well I’m Brett, what are you drinking?”

“Nothing,” you snapped.

“Oh c’mon, let me buy you a drink,” he continued, either not picking up on your hints or purposely ignoring them.

“I’m really all set.”

Just before he was about to open his mouth to speak once again, you felt his hand rest flat against your back, your body arching away from him immediately at the contact.

“Do not fucking touch her.”

The deep voice echoed in front of you, your vision clouded as your mind raced in a million directions.

“Listen, man, I got this.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” you heard, the vibrations of his voice running straight through your body.

Nolan.

You may have just met him, but that was a body and voice you couldn’t forget.

You had no idea what overcame you, but before you could process what you were doing you wrapped your arms around his torso. Nolan immediately reciprocated, his arm falling across your shoulders and pulling you close to his frame.

“Just leave,” Nolan asserted, “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. It’s already embarrassing enough that you can’t take no for an answer.”

Your body relaxed against his, Nolan’s words calming your worst fears right away. From your vantage point, you assumed Nolan easily had at least six inches and thirty pounds on him. That seemed to be enough for him, backing away with a faulty glare and disappearing into the crowd.

“Nolan, I-” you stuttered, not knowing what to say, “Thank you,” you finally got out, your voice barely loud enough to hear over the hum of voices.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, his aura still cold.

You were so caught up in the shock of the moment that you hadn’t realized you were still holding each other, and right away you dropped your arm from his waist. Nolan did the same, awkwardly moving to sit on the stool next to you and flag the bartender.

You missed the warmth of his body right away, the spicy scent of his skin in stark contrast to the Axe you could only assume the other one was wearing. You swore you could still feel the ripple of his abs beneath his t-shirt on your fingertips. It was silent for a minute, both of you trying to come up with the right words.

“I really can’t thank you enough. Let me buy this round,” you pleaded, your eyes locking with his.

“Y/N,” Nolan started, your face flushing as your name fell from his lips, “I’m buying.”

You smiled up at him, nodding before looking back down in hopes of hiding the flush you felt creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“Can I be honest, Nolan?” You questioned.

“Shoot.”

“Do you not like me? Did I do something? I wasn’t expecting that from you of all people-” you rambled until Nolan cut you off.

“First of all, I would have done that even if I hated you. But no, I like you, Y/N. A friend of a friend of TK’s is a friend of mine.”

You laughed at the last part before you could even process the first. Nolan’s cheeks went red, clearly embarrassed at his cliché phrasing but it didn’t matter how badly he made a fool of himself as long as you were smiling. The way your eyes scrunched and your nose turned up while you laughed was enough to make him forget the day he had.

Your laughter was interrupted by your drinks, the woman leaving you with a knowing smile before she turned away. Nolan and you both stood up ready to head back to the table before he stopped you.

“Friends?” He asked, putting his hand out in front of himself.

“Friends,” you agreed with a grin, shaking his hand before walking back to the group together.

two

You dreaded first days.

No matter how old you got, the anxiety of walking into an unfamiliar room full of unfamiliar faces never lessened. But you were ready, you reminded yourself, putting your head up and walking to the classroom like you had been there a hundred times before.

By the time you were walking out after the 90 minutes were up, your heart was pounding and you could feel the tears pricking the back of your eyes as you ran out of the building, not even bothering to introduce yourself to anyone.

The walk from the university back to your apartment was a blur. You couldn’t believe you had made such a poor first impression. You thought you were prepared, you had your notebook ready and all the right textbooks in order, but you somehow missed that there was an assignment due on the very first day.

As you rushed through the busy streets of the city, dodging people left and right, your mind raced back to that room.

“Ms. Y/L/N, can you please give your thoughts on the first case study?” Your professor questioned, intently watching you as your panic set in.

Your heart began to race and your palms sweat as you struggled to find the words to say that you hadn’t done the reading. This had never happened to you before, you were an A+ student for your entire life, almost unhealthily so. You couldn’t remember the last time you had missed an assignment, it just wasn’t something you did.

“Alright, then. Anyone else who actually checked the syllabus have something to say?”

Your professor's words were stuck in your head, playing over and over again when you finally reached your building. Now that you were so close to being in the comfort of your own space you could feel your wheels spinning, the stress and emotion overtaking your body.

Your hands shook as you tried to unlock the door, your body pushing through the threshold when you finally got it open.

“Aubrey?” You called as you walked through the hallway. She had known you for so long and always knew what to do to calm you down. But instead of Aubrey’s bright voice welcoming you back, you were met with silence.

“Where are you?” You muttered under your breath, your voice shaking as the tears threatened to spill over any second. As you turned the corner into the living room, you found three bodies spread across the couch, none of whom belonged to Aubrey.

“Oh,” you sputtered out, surprised to see Travis, Kevin, and Nolan watching a game.

“Y/N!” Travis called out, his infectious smile almost making your tight-lipped frown fade, “Aubrey just ran out for something but she should be back soon.”

You could feel Nolan’s gaze burning into you. You did your best to avoid his eye contact in hopes of hiding your current state from him. He had been nothing but kind to you, but you still felt so exposed standing in front of him, suddenly insecure about your outfit.

“I’m just going to go,” you whispered, pointing down the hall to your room. You felt horrible just ignoring them like that, but you knew you didn’t have it in you to keep up with them right now.

Your bag fell out of your hands almost instantly as soon as the door to your room clicked shut, the sound of your laptop hitting the hardwood floor making you cringe. You collapsed on your bed face first, the emotion you had been holding back for what felt like forever overwhelming you. Your body wracked in sobs as you replayed your embarrassment in a seemingly endless loop.

Nolan knew something was wrong the second he saw you. He may have only met you just a few days ago, but after growing up with two sisters he recognized the signs right away. He had no idea what was wrong, but he did know that you were barely holding it together.

Your head snapped up when you heard a series of soft knocks on your door, “Aubrey?” You asked, your voice rising with hope.

“No, uh, it’s Nolan.”

Your face fell when you heard his deep voice through the wood. You barely knew Nolan, he couldn’t see you like this. You paused for a moment wondering if he would just leave if you didn’t respond, but you could see his shadow through the bottom crack of your door, his feet were planted and didn’t show any signs of moving any time soon.

You silently groaned and picked yourself up, not even bothering to look in the mirror before opening the door because you knew it was not going to a pretty sight regardless. You hastily wiped underneath your eyes, the black of your mascara flaking right off your tear-stained skin. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted the new boy in your life to see you right after meeting you, but you just were friends, right?

“What, Nolan?” You sighed when you finally opened the door.

You didn’t mean to be so stark, but it just came out. His presence overwhelmed you just like it had at the bar a few nights ago. He was leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. The backward hat resting atop his head flattered him perfectly, drawing attention to the tufts of his brown hair curling around his ears and neck.

Nolan stood up straight as soon as he saw you, his eyes softening when his suspicions were confirmed: you had been crying.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he mumbled, his eyes never leaving your own.

The tension in your shoulders released as you looked up at him. He didn’t say anything else, just tilting his head down towards you as he continued to scan your face for any signs of how you were feeling. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about Nolan that made you feel so safe, so secure, like as long as you were with him you could avoid your demons.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No you’re not,” Nolan rebutted, raising his eyebrows as if he was challenging you to lie to him again.

You didn’t say anything, but rather you moved your body to the side and ushered him into your room. Nolan happily obliged, awkwardly standing as he took in his surroundings. Your room was just as he expected, it was minimal, just like his. You didn’t like clutter, everything had a place. It was one way you tried to control the chaos that was your life.

“You can sit,” you spoke, breaking the silence.

Nolan nodded and sat next to you at the foot of the bed. You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail along his leg, the way his thighs stretched the fabric of his sweatpants making your cheeks flush.

“It was my first day at this new program I’m in and it didn’t go well, that’s all,” you finally sputtered out, staring down at your lap as your hands fidgeted. “I’ve never been good at first impressions,” you added, a gentle laugh escaping your lip as you thought back to your first time meeting Nolan.

“Listen, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Nolan encouraged, “You seem like a pretty great person.”

You scoffed at his attempt to make you feel better, your emotions creeping their way back into your head.

“It was-” you paused, using every fiber within your being to try not to lose it in front of him, “It was bad.”

“C’mere,” Nolan whispered, turning on the bed to face you more and opening his arms, practically begging for your embrace.

You shook your head, closing your eyes as the fresh tears started burning. You were so selective in who you exposed your most vulnerable state to, and you barely knew Nolan. But despite this, you felt such an instant connection with him, and if his overt kindness was any indication, he felt the same way.

You let your final guard down, leaning back and curling into Nolan’s frame. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against him as one hand moved up to your head to rub soft circles into your hair.

“Go ahead and cry,” he hummed, his body gently rocking you back and forth.

You melted at his touch, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the muted orange of his Flyers hoodie the last thing you saw before your eyes shut in sobs. His scent was overwhelming, the mix of his body wash and the leftover cologne lingering on his hoodie flooding your senses. You felt as if you disappeared in his grasp, like the world around you vanished and nothing else mattered.

You didn’t even know how much time had passed, but Nolan didn’t move an inch. He held you like it was the only thing he had to do all day. Once the tears stopped falling and your breathing steadied, you pulled back, instantly flooded with embarrassment.

“Wow,” you chuckled, wiping your cheeks, “I am so sorry, Nolan, I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “We’re friends, remember?” He teased, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile as he bumped your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you laughed.

“I think we were planning on grabbing some food,” Nolan mumbled, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he spoke, “If you want to come.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Come on, you’re coming. If I have to put up with those two out there so do you.”

You rolled your eyes, but it was the least you could do after what he had just done for you.

“Give me five minutes to look less dead.”

Nolan smiled as you agreed, slipping out of the room so you could change and freshen up.

“What the fuck was that?” Nolan was bombarded by Kevin as he sat back down.

“Nothing,” Nolan mumbled, not in the mood to be questioned about things he didn’t even know the answer to.

“She let you go in there?” Aubrey asked, just having gotten back.

“Yes?” He responded, confused by her question.

Aubrey didn’t bother getting into it and changed the subject instead, but inside she was scheming. She knew you, how closed off you were, but here you were opening up to Nolan like you’ve known him for years. Nothing made Aubrey happier than watching this friendship bloom, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was potential for more.

three

Team galas usually didn’t bother Nolan, it was part of the job, but tonight it was the last place he wanted to be. His tux felt too tight, the stuffy conversation with potential sponsors was putting him to sleep, and his date was, to be frank, insufferable.

Nolan had no problem going to an event without a plus one, he and TK were usually the two single guys spending their time causing trouble, but now that Aubrey was in the picture Kevin had decided he had seen enough. So, despite Nolan begging him to leave him alone, Kevin set him up with one of his friends from Boston.

She was just as Kevin described, beautiful and smart, but that was about all. Nolan was calm and reserved, at least until he was comfortable with someone, but she was the complete opposite. Her personality filled the entire room and although he admired her confidence, Nolan was exhausted. He felt like he couldn’t be himself, like he had to work to match her energy.

After what felt like hours of entertaining her and Kevin, Nolan made his escape to the bar. It was the first moment to himself he had, the relief immediately flooding him as he leaned against the counter. He titled his glass to the bartender, silently requesting a refill when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his suit pants.

Nolan begrudgingly pulled the phone, wondering who it could possibly be. The entire team was with him and it was unlike his family to call him on a Saturday night. But when he saw your name flashing across the screen, his whole demeanor shifted.

“Nolan!” He heard you exclaim, your voice like a breath of fresh air.

“Y/N?” He questioned. You had never called him out of the blue like this before. Nolan nodded to the bartender thanking him before taking his drink and walking out to the empty hallway so he could hear you better. “Everything okay?”

It wasn’t really. You had just come back home from a date, one Aubrey practically forced you to go on. You pleaded to her that you were fine, that you weren’t ready to start dating in the city yet, but regardless, you found yourself sitting across from one of her coworkers at a restaurant downtown.

There was nothing wrong with him, he was nice, but it was evident to you before your drinks were even ordered that this wasn’t going to work. You pushed through the meal, putting on your best fake smile and pretending to laugh at his forced humor. You politely declined his offer to walk you home, instead opting to get an Uber so you could get out of your dress as soon as possible.

Now you were home, your sweats on and hair up with a glass of wine in your hand. The glass quickly turned into almost the entire bottle, drowning your sorrows of another failed date with your favorite red. That’s when you made the mistake of picking up your phone, your fingers scrolling through your contacts until you found the one name you knew would be able to distract you.

“I’m great. I mean I’m not, but it’s fine,” you rambled, your words slurred as you spoke.

For once it was you mumbling and not Nolan. He didn’t know what, but his gut was telling him that something was wrong, he could practically smell the alcohol on your tongue through the phone. After a long pause of trying to figure out what to say, his thoughts were interrupted.

“Come over?” You whispered, “I’m so sick of being alone.”

Nolan’s heart dropped at your words, his eyes blinking shut as he pondered his next move. His eyes scanned the ballroom, finally landing on his date. She was sitting at their table, Nolan’s empty seat sticking out like a sore thumb, laughing at whatever story of his college days Kevin was regurgitating. He would feel like an ass if he just left, and he would be lying if he said the prospect of an easy lay hadn’t crossed his mind tonight, but you were more important.

“Give me twenty.”

Since calling Nolan you had migrated from your bed to the couch, a blanket sprawled across your body while you laid horizontal. The only light in the room was from the TV as one of your comfort movies played. You were barely paying attention, instead zoning out and staring at the lit-up city around you from the window.

Your mindless thoughts were interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. You threw the blanket off of your body and stood up, slowly dragging your feet across the hardwood as you made your way. But you were nowhere near prepared for what you saw as soon as you opened the door.

Nolan towered over you in the door frame. He was wearing a suit, the soft, grey fabric clinging to his thighs and shoulders perfectly. His long hair was slicked back and tucked behind his ears. The scent of his cologne overwhelmed you instantly, the warm aroma making you want to melt into him. One hand was resting in his pant pocket, while the other was carrying a take-out bag from one of your favorite spots.

“Hi,” Nolan quietly muttered, breaking the silence.

His deep voice broke the trance you were in, and that’s when the realization hit you.

“I completely forgot you guys had that thing tonight,” you blurted, the alcohol in your bloodstream clogging your train of thought, “I am so sorry. You have to go back, I feel horrible.”

Your hands came up to your face, hiding your embarrassment. How could you forget? You spent hours this morning helping Aubrey pick out her dress.

“Y/N,” Nolan cooed, his large hands gently pulling your own off of your face, “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Nolan didn’t let you get another word out before he was pushing past your body. He wasn’t even enjoying himself at the event and the last thing he wanted to do was go back.

It didn’t long for the two of you to finish the food, opting to head back to the couch and ignore the many empty containers for now.

“I’m never going on a date ever again,” you slurred, “I don’t even want to look at a man ever again.”

Despite trying to be quiet, Nolan couldn’t hide his chuckle. He had heard similar frustrations from his two sisters growing up. He had been around endless assholes throughout his life, he knew how exhausting it must have been to try to find a decent one.

“Can’t blame you,” he mumbled.

Your body slumped against the back of the couch, your eyes slipping shut as the wine and food started to lull you into a sleepy haze. Nolan scanned your face, a soft smile creeping onto his face as he watched your chest gently rise and fall with each breath. Before he could catch himself, he lifted his hand and pushed back the hair that had fallen in your face, tucking it behind your ear.

In that moment Nolan knew that he was fucked.

Never before had he dropped everything for a girl as he did for you tonight. But he also had never connected with someone like he did with you. You didn’t force him to be something he wasn’t, there was no pressure to put on an act. It just felt natural with you. But your words from just a few minutes before lingered in the back of his head. You made it clear that you weren’t looking for anything right now, it only took one miserable date to remind you of that. So Nolan pulled his hand away, trying to ignore the burning of your skin against his fingertips as they trailed across your soft cheek.

You were friends. Just friends.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but suddenly you felt yourself stir awake, your eyes peeling open to find yourself tucked into Nolan’s side. His body was warm below yours, his arm resting across your shoulders holding you in place as you lay against his chest. From your peripheral vision, you could see his suit jacket on one of the couch cushions, the soft material of his button-down rubbing on your cheek.

You had two options. You could either acknowledge that you awkwardly fell asleep on him in your drunken state, or you could pretend that you never woke up and continue to enjoy the comfort of his embrace.

Needless to say, you chose the latter.

But you must have dozed off again because the next time you woke up you were being carried into your bedroom. Your arms were wrapped tightly across Nolan’s neck, the tips of your fingers naturally lifting to twirl the tufts of his hair.

“Shhh, I got you,” Nolan whispered as he felt you move, just before he laid you down onto your bed, “I’ll be right back.”

Nolan hastily left the room, leaving you to bask in the memory of his warmth as your head fell back against your pillow. Within just a few seconds he was back, placing a cool glass of water on your nightstand table. But almost just as fast as he came back, he was leaving again.

“Stay,” you murmured, watching him pause at the outline of your door.

“I- I got the couch.”

“Okay,” you responded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Nolan visibly cringed the second your door was closed, his head falling to his lap once he sat down. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with you. The thought of holding you beneath the sheets and feeling your soft skin in contrast to his rough hands made him dizzy. But the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sober enough to say he could stay, and there was no chance in hell Nolan was going to risk scaring you off. So he took the couch, laying across the cushions with his eyes locked on your door until his eyelids gave in to his exhaustion.

four

It was finally Friday, another week in the books.

Your classes were taking more out of you than you had expected, the hours of reading and note-taking blending together as you finally closed your last tab. You had no plans for the night, and you honestly couldn’t be happier about it. A hot shower, takeout, and falling asleep early encompassed your perfect night recently.

Just as you were about to get in the shower, you were distracted by your phone ringing. You picked it up, surprised to see it was Kevin calling.

“Hi, Kevin,” you spoke, a slight edge to your words. You adored Kevin, he was an absolute sweetheart, but sometimes you just didn’t have the patience.

“What are you doing tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, “Nothing.”

“Incorrect, you’re coming over and hanging out with me and Pat.”

“I am?” You laughed, taken aback by Kevin’s forwardness.

“Teeks and Aubrey are coming too, come on, Y/N,” he continued.

You knew you weren’t getting out of this without a real excuse, no matter how much you wanted to stay in. You hadn’t seen Nolan since the night you embarrassed yourself, the cringe of drunk dialing him after a bad date had yet to escape your memory.

“What time?”

“Uh- Let’s say 7.”

“Alright, Kev. See you later,” you hung up the phone, throwing it back on your bed before getting in the shower.

As you approached the boys’ apartment door, it was quieter than you expected it to be. Aubrey said she was already with Travis and would meet you there, so you were arriving alone. You assumed they would already have been there by now, but you ignored the silence and knocked on the door.

Just a few seconds later, the door swung open and you were face to face with Nolan. Your eyes widened when you saw him, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his bare torso staring at you. You quickly composed yourself, using every ounce of self-control within you to avoid trailing your gaze across his broad shoulders and down his chest, the curves and divots of his abs making your mouth water.

“Sorry,” Nolan mumbled, his cheeks flushing even redder than they usually were, “I thought you were Kevin, he always forgets his keys. Come in.”

You followed Nolan into the apartment, the muscles of his back rippling as his arms swung. You sat down on the couch, awkwardly waiting while he disappeared into his room. He came back just a few seconds later, his body now hidden behind a wrinkly t-shirt.

“Where is everyone?” You questioned, your body stiff as Nolan relaxed into the cushion next to you.

“Not sure,” he mumbled, the red of his cheeks lingering, “Kev said you were coming with Aubrey?”

Your face scrunched in confusion, “He told me she was coming here with Travis.”

Nolan then pulled his phone out and started typing a message to Kevin, desperate to figure out where he was. For some reason being here with you alone was making him nervous, there was an awkward energy in the air that had never been there before.

Nolan was reaching for the TV remote, about to ask you if you wanted to put something on when his phone sounded.

Kevin: You’re welcome

Now it was Nolan’s turn to furrow his eyebrows, the boy even more confused by Kevin’s message.

Kevin: We couldn’t watch you two anymore please just do something

Kevin: I’ll be out all night

Kevin: Don’t forget protection!

Of course. Of course, this little miscommunication was, in fact, a setup. But the worst part was that Nolan knew Kevin was right. No matter how hard he tried, he had been pining over you since that very first night. And now here you two were in an empty apartment with enough sexual tension to last the year.

“No one’s coming, are they?” You broke the silence, snapping Nolan out of his trance.

He threw his phone to the side as a slight smile crept across his stern face, “Nope,” he chuckled.

If you thought there was tension before, it didn’t even compare to what you felt now. Since meeting Nolan you were under the impression that your secretly harbored feelings for him were just that, a secret, but apparently, you weren’t as subtle as you thought. This had Aubrey written all over it, and you knew Travis was under her spell and would do anything to help her, and bonus points for chirping Nolan simultaneously. It was the elephant in the room, your mutual feelings still not being spoken but you both knew you had been called out by the people who knew you best.

“What are you thinking about?” Nolan whispered, the rough hum of his voice sending chills down your spine.

You couldn’t get even a single word out, your thoughts and feelings jumbling in your mind. After all this time the perfect opportunity was finally handed to you on a silver platter, but you still couldn’t do it.

Nolan could sense your hesitation, your close proximity and sweet scent clouding his consciousness.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about,” he murmured, turning his body so he was facing you.

Your eyes had yet to leave your lap, your focus stuck on the rip of your jeans. You jumped when you felt his warm touch on your lower thigh, the warmth of his calloused hands making your heart rate rise even though the thick denim. His size was intoxicating and he made you feel like putty as he leaned closer to you.

“Y/N,” Nolan mumbled, his voice deeper than ever before.

You finally lifted your gaze, turning your head up to look at him. His baby blue eyes were piercing yours, the contact lighting a fire within you. Every reasonable thought in your head was telling you to pull away, to grab your bag and politely excuse yourself. You weren’t ready for a relationship, you had barely put yourself back together after your last heartbreak and Philly was supposed to be different. But as you sat here, your face just inches away from Nolan’s, you gave in to your desire.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you connected your lips with his, immediately sighing in relief as his soft pout worked perfectly against you. You hastily swung your hips over and seated yourself on Nolan’s lap, an eager groan escaping him when your body rolled into his. His hands splayed across your hips, moving to circle your ass as he helped you grind deeper into his already hardening length.

Nolan trailed his lips down your jaw, nibbling and sucking on the plane of your neck. You knew he was leaving marks, but in the moment you couldn’t care less, the euphoria of his touch being the only comprehensive feeling.

“Please,” you whined, tightening your grip on his long locks, “Nolan.”

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had ignited you as Nolan had. He had barely even touched you and you were nearly certain you had already soaked through your panties, withering in his lap desperate for more.

“Now she has something to say,” Nolan teased, whispering into the shell of your ear. He gave you no warning before he was standing up, holding the back of your legs as you instinctually wrapped them around his waist.

Nolan gently tossed you on his bed, pausing to pull his shirt off before he was climbing on top of you. You were in a state of bliss, finally able to admire his frame shamelessly and without fear of getting caught. He continued to attack your neck, leaving mark after mark behind in his wake. You whimpered impatiently as his lips worked your sensitive skin, but Nolan was set on taking his time. He didn’t know if he would ever have you like this again and he was going to savor every second of it.

But you decided to take matters into your own hands, pushing his frame off of yours and pulling your sweater over your head. You grabbed Nolan’s face again, cupping both of his cheeks as your lips met again. He made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease behind your back and tossing it across the room.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” he groaned, pausing to take you in. Your hair was splayed across the pillow, your cheeks flushed while your chest heaved up and down with heavy breathing. His praise went straight to your core, clenching around nothing as you grew more and more desperate for him.

Nolan wasted no more time, finally making his way down your torso before reaching the hem of your pants. His fingertips slowly ran beneath the fabric, stopping only to look up at you. Your eyes locked and you frantically nodded, understanding that he was waiting for your permission before continuing.

“Words, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your thigh, his order gentle but firm.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “Fuck, yes.”

Nolan did as you said, unzipping your jeans and sliding them down your legs. He almost lost his balance on the mattress when he saw you laying before him, the pink lace resting across your hips being the only thing keeping him from you. Nolan settled himself between your legs, hooking both of them over his shoulders as his hot breath fanned over your pussy.

Nolan placed a soft kiss to your lace-covered clit, basking in your reaction as you let out an embarrassingly loud moan and your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair. Your hips jerked up into the air, desperate for more friction. Nolan laid his thick forearm across your waist, his weight halting all of your movements and holding you at his mercy.

“Nolan, please just fuck me,” you begged, the suspense too much to handle as you felt yourself drip down the crease of your thigh.

“All in good time, baby,” he cooed, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting with your throbbing pussy.

You cried out as his tongue flicked your clit back and forth, the pleasure only magnifying when he sucked it between his teeth. Your hands were locked with an iron grip in the roots of his hair, holding on like your life depended on it. Nolan hummed against your core as he continued to taste you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body.

Suddenly Nolan pulled back, but before you could protest you heard ripping. A gasp left your lips when you realized what he had done, the mangled lace of your panties now laying on his floor. You wanted to yell at him, complain that those were your favorite, but before you could get a word out he was back at work, this time fucking his tongue in and out of you.

Your head fell back against the pillow, your mouth opening in a silent scream when you felt him slide two fingers inside while his mouth circled your clit again. Nolan curled his fingers against your sweet spot and you knew you were done for, your back arching off the mattress as you combusted with your orgasm.

Nolan milked you through your high, his tongue flattening against your clit as his head shook and his fingers kept their pace. He finally slowed down as he felt you come down, pulling back to watch you shake as the last waves of pleasure rolled through your body. He slipped his fingers out of your fluttering pussy, only to bring them to his mouth and suck your juices clean.

“You’re really good at that,” you stammered, just now coming back to your senses after almost blacking out.

Nolan laughed, kissing his way back up your body until you two were face to face again. You couldn’t resist pulling him down and crashing your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

“I’m good at other things too,” he smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear, just as he had done last week, except this time he didn’t have to hide it. The soft action made your heart flutter, but his words made something else flutter.

“Give me your best, Patrick,” you challenged.

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

Nolan pushed off his arms and stood up, hurriedly stripping himself of his sweats and boxers in one fell swoop. A whimper escaped your lips when you heard the sound of his cock slapping against his stomach, your pupils dilated as your eyes trailed down his thighs admiring his tattoos.

Reaching across you to get a condom from his nightstand, Nolan was surprised when you plucked it right from his hand. You tore open the foil and slowly rolled the condom onto him, a small smile spreading across your face when his hips buckled into your hand at your touch.

You may have been embarrassingly weak for him, but he was just as weak for you.

Nolan shifted on the bed so he was hovering over your body, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth. Your lips moved in sync with one another, the pure lust filling the room dictating every movement. He felt you grow more and more impatient, your body stirring beneath his as he finally pulled away.

Taking one last look at you spread out before him, waiting for him to touch you, Nolan directed his attention back to between your legs. He locked eyes with you before collecting the salvia in his mouth, harshly spitting on your pussy. The moan you let out was only amplified when he started teasing you even more, dragging the head of his cock through your soaking folds.

“Nolan,” you whined, the last letter of his name prolonged as you begged, your entire body tensing while he tapped your already so sensitive clit.

“Shhh,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against your hip, “Got to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Before you could get in another word of protest, Nolan was pushing one of your legs into your chest and sliding inside. Your mouth fell open as he slowly bottomed out, the sensation of him filling you paralyzing. A string of deep swears left his lips as he felt you already clenching around him.

After letting you adjust, Nolan started rocking his hips, quickly finding his rhythm. You didn’t have a single thought in your head, the way he hit your sweet spot inside and ground against your clit making you dizzy.

Nolan had never been in such bliss. He could never have imagined how good you would feel wrapped around him, your walls still pulsating from your first high as he slid in and out. The way your name sounded falling from his lips was pure ecstasy, his innate possessiveness in full drive. Your nails dug into his back, dragging burning lines into his skin that he knew he would be tormented about tomorrow in the locker room but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the way your bodies fit together in perfect harmony right this moment.

You could feel yourself growing close within mere minutes, Nolan’s relentless thrusts giving you no mercy. He could tell you were almost there by the way you were fluttering around him, along with the mindless sounds of pleasure escaping your lips getting louder and louder.

“That’s it,” Nolan encouraged in your ear, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Between his hot breath against your tingling skin and his plunging thrusts, Nolan had you seeing stars.

“Nolan, Nolan,” you whined.

You swore you almost blacked out, your vision going blank as he fucked you through your high. He wasn’t far behind you, the clenching of your pussy egging him on until he finally let go, his hips stuttering and groans filling the air as his head fell into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” Nolan sighed, letting his heart rate steady as he laid above you, resting the majority of his weight on his forearms.

“Yeah,” you responded with a breathy laugh, your mind still blank as you came down.

Nolan stayed there for a few minutes before finally sitting up, cringing as you whimpered when he pulled out. Your eyes slipped shut, but you could hear him shifting around the room. After pulling on a pair of fresh boxers and dampening a towel, Nolan gently cleaned you up, biting back a smirk each time you shivered at his touch. He disappeared again, this time returning with a shirt in hand, urging you to sit up so he could help you pull the soft fabric over your head.

You had every intention of getting dressed and leaving, but you just couldn’t find the energy to remove yourself from his warm bed. The sheets that smelled like him enveloped you, and now his t-shirt was draped over your shoulders begging you to stay. Nolan slid next to you, his body cradling yours from behind as he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you impossibly close.

“Sleep well, Y/N,” Nolan hummed into your neck as he settled in.

“Goodnight,” you managed to get out, the shame of what you had just done starting to spiral in your head.

You made a mistake. Nolan was good, so good, and he deserved more than you could give him. Your last relationship ended in disaster, leaving you broken and abandoning the idea of finding love ever again. Regardless of what you told your friends and family, it was what drove you from home. Then came Nolan, he was the definition of kind. Even when he barely knew you he did whatever he could to protect you. That kind of guy deserves someone who’s got it together, not whatever mess you were. You couldn’t believe you let your attraction to him get the best of you, and now here you were, pressed against his sleeping frame as he held you.

Everything inside of you was telling you to leave. It was too much, the eventual pain of whatever this was ending was overwhelming. You could hear Nolan snoring behind you, the sound of his contentment almost bringing tears to your eyes. Gently lifting his arm from its spot across your waist, you slid from underneath his grasp. It was nearly impossible to find your clothes in the dark, but you managed to do so without making too much noise. Nolan didn’t even stir as you moved around him, folding the shirt he gave you and placing it on the nightstand.

Just as you reached for the door, you felt yourself pause. Don’t do it, Y/N. Don’t do it. But you couldn’t resist, slowly turning to take in what you were leaving behind.

Nolan was passed out, his body leaning towards the pillow where you once laid your head and his arm laying flat as if he was still holding you. You could make out the redness of his cheeks in the dim light, his eyelashes curling down onto his cheeks. Your heart broke as you looked at him, but you knew it was what you had to do. He deserved the world, which was much more than you were able to give him. Without giving it another second of thought, you opened the door as quietly as possible and made your escape.

+ one

It had been over three weeks since you last spoke to Nolan.

You couldn’t handle facing him just yet, so you did what you knew best: shutting out the people that cared about you the most. You ignored every single one of his calls and texts, eventually muting his number when it became too much. You replayed what you imagined he looked and felt like that morning, waking up to a cold, empty bed. It was heartbreaking, but you stayed firm in your decision. As long as you didn’t have to see his face you would be fine.

But of course, Aubrey had different plans for you.

Since that night, you had been more distant from her than ever before. You left the apartment early in the morning, spending your day in class and bouncing between different coffee shops while working. You kept up appearances when you returned in the evening, saying hello and asking her how her day was, but practically nothing else. You made an early exit to your room, citing homework or lack of sleep as your excuse. But she knew you better than anyone else, it was no secret something was wrong. Much to your content, you could only assume that Nolan was keeping your secret as well, knowing that if he told anyone on the team you would be getting an earful from her.

But Aubrey had decided that she was done letting you sulk about whatever it was you were so clearly upset by. The Flyers had been away for almost two weeks and tonight was their first game back home. Thanks to Travis, she had two tickets in hand ready for the two of you.

Before you had even shut the apartment door behind you after arriving home, she was jumping up to greet you.

“Hey!” Aubrey exclaimed as you walked in, “We’re going out tonight.”

You just stared at her confused, knowing damn well you had no intention of going anywhere. “Hey,” you started, “I- I don’t think so, I have a lot to do.”

“No, you don’t. Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you but I’m sick of watching you wallow in whatever it is. I’ve barely talked to you in almost a month, you’re coming with me,” Aubrey snapped. If there was one thing about having such an old friend it was that she always gave it to you straight.

“Where?” You begrudgingly inquired.

“Nope, it’s a surprise,” she answered. If her inkling was correct, whatever had you in this funk had something to do with a certain Flyers centerman and she was not risking you ditching because of it.

“Fine,” you groaned.

It wasn’t news to you that you had been a horrible friend recently. Despite the anxiety that came with breaking your current routine, maybe a night with Aubrey was just what you needed to take your mind off everything.

A few hours had passed, and you were sitting in the back of an Uber watching the city pass you by. Aubrey maintained the anonymity of the destination, ignoring all of your pleas for even just a hint. But there were some things that she couldn’t control.

Your stomach dropped when you saw where the car was heading towards, the large Wells Fargo Center plastered on the side of the building cluing you in. Of course, you thought, how could you not have known. You had so strictly blocked Nolan and the entire team from your mind that didn’t think to look at their schedule, but now it all made sense.

“Aubrey, no,” you stated, your voice already shaking as you got closer and closer.

“What the hell happened?” she snapped back, finally getting confirmation that your funk was related to Nolan.

“Nothing, nothing happened. I just don’t want to go,” you rebutted, “I’m not in the mood to see everyone, okay?”

“You don’t have to, we’re sitting alone,” she responded, turning her phone on and showing you the location of the tickets. As she promised, they were nowhere near the family boxes.

You didn’t say anything else, instead choosing silence as the car pulled up to the entrance. You both thanked the driver before quickly exiting, a long, awkward silence falling over the two of you as you entered the arena.

You could do this, you told yourself while adjusting in your seat. You could sit through one game, you didn’t even have to see or talk to anyone. If it would make Aubrey happy, you could suck it up and sit down. The two of you had still barely said a word to each other since arriving, and you could see the disappointment on her face. Deciding it was time to get over it, you put your arm around Aubrey, smiling as you instantly felt her relax and place her head on your shoulder. Neither of you said anything, but after knowing each other for so long, you didn’t have to. She knew what you meant.

You didn’t know what to expect, but the second you saw Nolan step onto the ice you were flooded with emotion. He looked tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping much or well, and your heart dropped at the thought that you may have been the reason why. You still were firm in your decision to avoid anything serious right now, but you knew you went about it in the completely wrong way. Nolan was the closest thing you had ever met to an angel, but you treated him like a random one night stand from the bar you barely knew. The guilt had overtaken you over the past few weeks, and seeing him in the flesh wasn’t helping.

It was a relatively uneventful game, the rebuilding Red Wings visiting and not giving the Flyers much of a fight. By the third period they were up 4-0, one of which was scored by number 19 himself. As the horn sounded signaling the end of the game, Aubrey turned to you.

“I was going to go see Travis,” she hesitated, “Do you want to come? Or I can meet you right after?”

“I’ll wait for you,” you encouraged.

Aubrey thanked you, squeezing your hand before getting up and heading downstairs. Instead of going to the main concourse to wait, you stayed in your seat, waiting for the crowds to clear out before you moved. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you started mindlessly scrolling as a distraction.

But your distraction didn’t last for long.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your eyes slipped shut when you heard his voice, that same voice that left you weak in the knees. You immediately felt your heart begin to race and your palms sweat. You felt caught. After taking a moment to pause, you finally mustered up the courage to look up at him.

Nolan’s eyes were focused on your own, his hair slicked back and soaking wet still with sweat. He had definitely not showered yet, between the fact that the game just ended minutes ago and his appearance. He was dressed in his undergarments and slides, clearly he wasted no time before coming up here to find you.

“How did you even know I was here?” you questioned back, already feeling yourself on the defense.

“Really?” Nolan scoffed, “Travis told me. How else would I have known? It’s not like you talk to me.” He trailed off, his words becoming quieter.

“Nolan, please,” you pleaded, “Please sit down.”

There was no doubt in your mind that it was time for you to come clean. You could see the pain in his eyes and the hurt behind his voice. He obliged, sinking to sit in the seat beside you, but he didn’t turn to face you. His coldness was evident, and you knew that you deserved nothing else.

“I’m sorry,” you began, “I’m so sorry, Nolan. I- I shouldn’t have left like that, with no explanation-”

“I thought I had you,” he interrupted, “Finally, Y/N, after all those weeks of tiptoeing around it, I thought we were done pretending.”

You could feel the tears burning behind your irises, and it was taking everything within you not to let them out. Nolan’s words broke you, even more than you were already broken.

“Nolan, I wanted- I want,” you corrected yourself, “Nothing more than to give myself to you, but I- I just can’t. I’m not ready.”

“Then why did you sleep with me?” his voice cracked, “And what does that even mean, ‘you’re not ready’?”

“I can’t let myself get hurt again, okay? I can’t do it,” you sighed, finally succumbing to your emotion, “I am so sorry for dragging you into my mess, but I can’t let myself go through that again. And you deserve so much better.”

Your head fell to your hands, hiding your face from him as you cried. Even just speaking out loud your last heartbreak made you a wreck. Deep down you knew Nolan wasn’t capable of hurting you like that, but you wouldn’t let him take care of you anymore. You couldn’t. He deserved someone who didn’t need to be taken care of.

“Y/N,” Nolan hummed, gently placing a hand on your back. He cringed when you jumped at his touch. “Y/N, look at me, please.”

You did as he asked, your red, puffy eyes lifting to meet his baby blues, putting you at ease almost right away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nolan murmured, “I don’t know what you think, but you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite and I want to show you that. If you’ll let me.” He paused, his eyes frantically scanning your face for any sign of your reaction. You were staring ahead of you, entranced with the ice below as you processed his words. Despite knowing how much it could potentially hurt, Nolan said what he thought he had to, “Even if it’s just as friends, but you can’t disappear on me again.”

You made Nolan feel at peace, like when he was with you nothing else mattered. But no matter how strong his feelings were, he cared for you enough to put them aside if that’s what it took to keep you in his life.

“I don't want to be friends,” you whispered, finally breaking the silence.

As if there was some kind of magnifying force between the two of you, your body lunged towards Nolan’s, your lips crashing together instantly. He was stunned, his body frozen in shock, but within seconds he melted against your touch with one hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your hair. It felt like time stopped in that moment, the only thing making you pull away was the lack of air.

You were both breathless, your foreheads resting against one another. Nolan took both of your hands in his, intertwining his much larger fingers with yours.

“I trust you,” you breathed out.

The grin that spread on Nolan’s face was like nothing you had ever seen before. You matched him right away, smiling as you watched the pure joy and relief wash over. The same joy and relief that you were feeling.

“Does this mean I finally get to take you out?” he asked, his deep mumble making you feel right at home again.

“Maybe,” you teased, “Only if you shower,” you added, pretending to push him off of you.

Nolan couldn’t help but fall into a fit of laughter at your subtle jab. That’s what he loved about you most, the way you could earn a smile or chuckle out of him like no one else.

He stood up from his seat, extending his hand out as he stared down at you. Without even a crumb of doubt creeping its way into your mind, you took his hand. Wrapping your arms around Nolan’s and resting your head against his shoulder, you walked out and into the hallway together.

Nolan leaned down and pressed a gentle peck to your forehead, and for the first time in longer than you could remember, you felt untouchable.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #my writing

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jerisch · 3 years

Text

The wrong catch

Another fantastic story by @writer-ofstuff, featuring Derek from Teen Wolf.

——————————————————————————————————

Derek groaned as he came to. Rubbing his head as it ached. He remembers getting out of his car and then blacking out. He goes on the alert a few seconds later when he realizes that someone has taken him. Derek can see it in some sort of basement given the layout of the room and that makes him assume it must be the Argents. Given how they've been trying to hunt him down for weeks now. The man who steps out from the shadows however Derek doesn't recognize as one of the Argents. Unless this bastard is a hired lackey they paid to capture Derek.

"Good, you're awake." The man says. He is dressed in a simple t-shirt with a jacket and jeans. He looks like he is around his mid thirties, his brown hair was trimmed short in a typical military fashion. Derek didn't say a word, realizing he's been handcuffed which he could easily break free of. He needs to wait though to see just who this guy is and why he has taken Derek.

"I'm surprised it was easy to capture such a dangerous criminal such as yourself. You've evaded the police fkr a good while only to just show yourself out in public like you did."

"I wish I was on duty when I spotted you, that being the reason why I had to take you like I did." The guy says.

"So, you're a cop then?" Derek asks. 'Good, he isn't a hunter then.' Derek thought. It also explains the man's clean cut boring look that most law enforcement seem to wear.

"Officer Daniels. The man who brought in the top suspect of a mass murder spree Derek Hale." Daniels sounds smug as he speaks.

Derek can't help but let out a small laugh as he looks at Daniels with a smirk.

"It seems you're out of the loop officers. I was cleared of those charges when they found the real murder." Derek says and enjoys the look on Daniels face when he tells him.

"You're lying." Daniels says. He turns his back to Derek and sees him on his phone. No doubt checking to make sure Derek was telling the truth.

"Fuck!" He hears the older man say, and Derek laughs.

"Seems you put yourself in an interesting position, officer. You thought you captured a criminal when you just kidnapped an innocent man. I'm guessing you wanted credit for bringing a dangerous criminal in for what, brownie points for a promotion? Surely when I get out of here and report you for what you did you'll be lucky to keep your job." Derek says. Taking pride in how the older man glares angrily at him.

For a few moments Daniels just stands there visibly seething in anger. Nomdoubt he is thinking how he didn't boost his career but ruined it for what he did in taking Derek.

"You may be innocent, but I can still use you to get ahead in my career. I just need to make you into a criminal is all." Daniels says with a sinister grin.

"How so?" Derek asked. Baffled by what Daniels said.

"I told myself I would never use my family's gift. I wanted to separate myself from that world," he says with disdain. "But with desperate measures like this I can make an exception." Daniels says.

Derek is confused by what the older man means. That is till he can sense the strong feeling of magic fill the room. Daniels eyes glow an inhuman orange and a bright aura emits from his hands.

"Your." Derek doesn't get to finish what he is saying before Daniels' magic envelops around him. Derek breaks the handcuffs and tries to make a run for it, but the magic is already flowing through him and makes him stagger on his feet.

"What are you?" Derek growls, his eyes flicker from his normal hazel eye color to beta blue before his glowing blue eyes disappear as his werewolf side hismstripped away from him. Derek fills hollow from losing such an important part of himself, all because of this pathetic officer trying to use Derek to get ahead in his career.

Rage bubbles within Derek and he turns to face the man who took a large part of who Derek was from him.

"You bastard, you fucking worthless pig!" Derek snarls. He clenches his head as it throbs and pounds sending small tremors of pain through him.

Moments tick by and Derek's body burns from his muscles expanding in size. Hard earned muscles bulging in a matter of moments. It being as if Derek spends so much time hitting the gym to work and maintain such an impressive physique.

"You think your tough shift huh? Cause you blindsided me the way you did and brought me here?" Derek goes on to say. His legs ached with newly formed muscle filling his legs out on top of his legs getting longer to make the former werewolf a few inches taller.

Derek's mind was in a haze from a mix of different thoughts and emotions filling his head that he didn't know what to do in the moment but kept talking as if he did.

"You're just a pathetic pig, a dull lackey and nothing more. You can't bring me down, many have tried and every one of them failed." Derek's voice grew raspy and deeper in tone. His voice was foreign to his own ears but he didn't show any sort of reaction to it.

Derek's hair trimmed shorter, becoming a simple buzzed over style while his stubble shaved away to leave just a dusting shadow of facial hair along his altering jawline. His jaw which took a more defined and chiseled look. His cheeks filled out, hismnose growing a little wider, his eyebrows trim down to not be as thick as they once were.

Standing there now no one would ever have thought this scowling man was once Derek Hale. The man the former werewolf had became sneers at Daniels with a menacing look as handcuffs reappear around his wrists while his mind is flooded with a new persona.

His clothes rapidly changed on his new body. The old tattered rags that ripped and tore at the seams during his growth became something new to fit his new self.

Damon Harris stared at the officer with a cold calculated gaze. How foolish, he thought. It was humorous that that pathetic excuse for a man thought he could bring in a criminal mastermind like Damon in. Damon was not only good looking with an impressive body, but he was also a genius with a seductive charm which he shamelessly used to get out of being arrested.

By sleeping with the officers who tried to arrest him Damon often used it as blackmail to get the men to drop the charges and thus making him walk out a free man each time.

This buffoon would be no different, just another bitch for Damon to seduce and fuck till the weak man's dick his dry of any cum. Damon puts on his signature charming look. Before he could even utter a single word to the officer however Damon feels suddenly drowsy. He stumbles on his feet, sputtering over his words before he falls to his knees and then falls to the ground fast asleep thanks to the sleep spell Daniels just casted on him.

"I no doubt made you into a more dangerous criminal than what you were excused for, so best to not take any chances with you till I get you to the station." Daniels says to Damon's sleeping form.

It was a paint in the ass to get the hulking man into his car, but he thinks how this, everything he did tonight will make it all worth it when he gets the promotion for bringing in one of their most sought after and elusive criminals.

"I'd say sorry for doing this, but that would be a lie." Daniels says smugly while he lifts Damon's sleeping body up and struggles to carry him up the stairs and out to his car. Once he has Damon in the back seat of his cruiser, Daniels takes a moment to collect himself. He is due to start his shift soon, he still needs to get dressed in his uniform so he quickly heads inside to do that.

He isn't aware of his magic being absorbed by Damon. The void that was left from when Damon was Derek and a werewolf takes in the lingering magic from Daniels' spells clung to the criminal. Giving him his own type of hidden power that would grow within him.

Damon wakes up when Daniels returns. The criminal thrashes in his handcuffs and demands to be set free, but Daniels ignores him and drives them to the station. He is already picturing the praise he will receive when he walks in with a handcuffed Damon.

———————————————————————————————————

"You may bring me in but I won't get charged. You can believe I will track you down once I'm out and make you sorry you every crossed paths with me." Damon tells Daniels in a low threatening voice as he gets escorted into the police station.

"With what we have you charged with I doubt you get out from behind bars anytime soon." Daniels laughed.

Damon clenches his jaw and sneers at the whispering officers who look at him. He won't stand for this. He refuses to be taken down so easily by a chump you used cheap tricks to capture him. Damon was a criminal mastermind, a genius Adonis. He refuses to be carted off like some common criminal like this.

"Now sit here while I get started on your processing paperwork." Daniels says smugly after he secures Damon in a holding cell.

"This isn't over! You haven't seen the last of me!" Damon calls out to Daniels retreating back. He curses and paces in his cell, thinking of how he can get out of this one. His interrupted by the door opening, he turns around and sees Sheriff Stilinski walk in. Damon rolls his eyes, the older man has been a thorn in his side for a while now and Damon is sure the Sheriff has come here to gloat about him finally being caught.

He notices how tired the older man looks, a mischievous idea forms in Damon's head while he watches Stilinski approach his cell.

"I'd like to see how you weasel your way out of this one Damon." Stilinski says.

"I'm sure you would, old man." Damon says. Loving the way Stilinski bristles at that.

"You look tired Sheriff, working long shifts again? Surely the pristine Sheriff of our beloved town knows when not to push himself too much in his work. After all, you're older now so you should be taking it easy." Damon chuckles.

"Watch Damon, I'm not that old." Stilinski says.

"Oh of course Sir." Damon says in a low raspy voice. He starts working his charm on the older man, flashing him a smile and leans close to the bars as he speaks to Stilinski.

"You do so much work for this town and do you get any recognition, any reward?" He asked.

"It's my job, I don't need a reward for doing what is right." Stilinski says.

"Yes, but surely with all you do you should get a reward." Damon says. "If a small one." He winks.

"Are you flirting with me?" Stilinski asked, taken aback.

"Depends Sheriff." Damon purrs. "If you can handle a young stud like me." He goes on to say and then rubs his impressive sized bulge. Stilinski's eyes follow Damon's movements and the criminal knows he has the Sheriff eating out of the palm of his hands now.

Men like Sheriff Stilinski who are overworked and tired are so much easier to seduce Damon's learned.

"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish here Damon but I won't be like those other officers you seduced and made lose their jobs." Sheriff Stilinski says.

"This is different this time Sheriff. No one is around to see us. With you being in charge you can easily erase the security footage that shows us having a little fun." Damon persuades.

"If it makes you feel better you won't even have to let me out of the cell." Damon added. The criminal then frees his fat cock from his pants. Gripping his palm around the base of his shaft. Damon's eyes lock onto the older officer's and he can see the turmoil Sheriff Stilinski is in from the look on his face as he mulls over what to do.

"Don't keep me waiting Noah. Who knows if you'll ever get another chance to have a taste of this." Damon teases. He grins widely when Sheriff Stilinski hesitates and then gets on his knees. Damon gets closer to the bars and sticks his cock through the opening towards the Sheriff.

"Go on Noah, don't keep me waiting." Damon insists. With another moment of hesitation Noah leans forward and tentatively takes Damon's cock into his mouth.

"See? Not so hard was it?" Damon asked. He gently thrusts his hips forward into Noah's mouth, pushing his dick further into the older man's mouth. His hands stick out through the bars and cradles Noah's head in his hands. Rubbing the older man's head soothingly while Noah continues to suck him off.

Damon would tease the older officer for being such a good cock slut, only he feels a strange sensation coming over him. He remains silent, a frown on his face while his body starts to get itchy. Damon doesn't know the residual magic from Daniels' spells is flowing through him and into Noah now. The magic making the two men become intertwined with each other filling their heads with a false reality of the two of them together.

Fueling Noah's loneliness while also granting Damon's desire to be free from his incoming imprisonment. Thus triggering Damon to undergo a second transformation. This one happens more rapidly than the first, making Damon fall into a dazed trance state so he doesn't even get to react to his metamorphosis into a new man.

Damon's hair starts to cascade down from his head as the Criminal begins to lose his hair. His hairline thinning out while more of his dark colored hair recedes into his scalp till he is left bald.

Damon's hard earned physique loses some definition and tone so he isn't as muscular anymore but still remains in good shape. Dark bristles of body hair sprout and grow along his torso, stopping just along his abdomen. Damon groans, his eyes glazed over, he thrusts his hips forward. His body moving on it sown to fuck Noah's mouth to plunge his cock deeper into the Sheriff's mouth. Damon can feel how full his balls are, desperate to release his thick load.

Damon's handsome face matures while it shifts into the face of an older man with rugged looks. Damon's dusting of stubble thickening into a fuller beard. His clothing rapidly alters on him to match the similar beige uniform as Noah Stilinski wears.

Damon no longer recalls his life as a criminal mastermind. Instead his head is full of new memories of being an upstanding officer of the law. Damon's own name is fleeting from his mind. His new persona taking root to complete his transformation.

Officer Darren Stilinski's eyes refocused as he awakened. An orange hue flashes over his eyes before that fades to his normal green color. Darren rubs his hand through his husband's hair as the room shifts around them. Placing them in Noah's office rather than the holding cell.

"After all these years together and you're still the needy cockslut you were when we met at the academy." Darren chuckles.

Noah looks up and is startled for a brief moment when he sees the new man, but his mind quickly catches up and he relaxes. Now he recalls this man as his partner, on the force and at home. Two wedding bands materialize on the two men's fingers while Darren fucks Noah's mouth with a few more thrusts before finally unloading his thick load of come into his lover's mouth. He pulls out a little bit after that, letting Noah lick any left over come from his thick dick head before Darren fixes his pants.

"That was fun." Noah says as he gets to his feet.

"Is it a surprise when you have such a stud for a husband?" Darren teases.

"You're so full of yourself." Noah chuckles.

"I know, it's why you love me so much." Darren grins and kisses Noah. His hands coming around to knead Noah's ass. The two officers stand there in Noah's office kissing when the door opens and Daniels walks in looking frazzled.

"Sir we have an issue. I brought in a dangerous criminal and now he." Daniels trails off when he notices the other officer with the Sheriff. He freezes for a moment as realization hits him and he sputters over his words.

"Yes?" Noah asked.

"You were saying something son?" Darren adds.

"N-nothing, sorry to trouble you both." Daniels settles on saying before he quickly leaves.

"That was odd." Noah says and turns to Darren.

"We can worry about him later. Right now I believe we are still on break so why don't we use it to have a little more fun." Darren suggests, pulling Noah closer to him for another kiss. Before they can continue Noah's phone buzzes, and with a heavy sigh the Sheriff answers it.

"Stiles is here to see you. Do I let him back?" The receptionist says.

"Yeah, send him back." Noah answers and hangs up.

"Our son is here." Noah says.

"Of course he is. I love him, but he has the worst timing." Darren chuckles.

"Yeah, but at least we can continue this when we get home." Noah says.

"Oh I intend to, and do a lot more to you." Darren promises. He has a flash of forigen thoughts in his head for a brief moment. He recalls what feels like two separate sets of memories in his head, but before he could focus on what they mean he quickly forgets them. He then just feels affection for his husband and their son just as Stiles opens the door.

Stiles pauses when he sees his dad and another officer around his dad's age holding hands and looking like they're close to kissing. The scene throws Stiles off and the young man is baffled over what the hell he just walked in on before reality catches up to him.

He recalls the new officer as his dad. Remembering growing up with two fathers and how much he loves his dads.

"Jeez, can't you two wait to get home to do this?" Stiles teases.

"So you can interrupt us there too?" Darren jokes, walking up and pulling his son in for a hug. Neither of them recalling who Darren was once before his transformations.

#Transformation #mental change #personality change #officer #cop #age progression #daddy

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

Tom Felton - Risk

A/N - Despite writing this 8 months ago, it hasn’t been uploaded anywhere. I forgot about it until a few days ago, redrafted it, and here we go. With the (not so) recent blow up of Draco-tok and Tom’s increased following, I thought it would be a good time to upload as well, and it has a summer feel to escape the disgracefully bitter winter here in Britain. I do not own the song lyrics used. I do not know Tom, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own.

Warnings - cursing, legal alcohol consumption, mutual pining, 3.4k words of fluff and angst. Nothing further.

Summary - After your break up, one that pained you to the bone, you try to escape and you find yourself taking that one risk you always thought you should, travelling. A simple day out, and the one person you don’t want to see is the one person who can help you with your car troubles. Could he help with your heart troubles too, over a reminiscent dinner perhaps?

RISK, that’s what this is. You’re taking a risk for once in your life, living a new experience and stepping outside of your comfort zone. That's what you’re supposed to do to get over a particularly brutal break up, isn’t it? So here you are, finding yourself again, exploring places you’ve always wanted to go. Current destination: Cape Town, South Africa. A haven.

You came here on a whim. Looking up some cheap prices from when you were in Barcelona, and surprisingly, you got a good direct flight and hotel deal for more than a reasonable price.

Before your break up, you’d never have dreamt of this. You were content with your life of luxury in LA with your boyfriend after dating for a while, but with his insane work schedule and travelling, you just couldn’t reasonably keep up with the relationship. You felt neglected, work and Willow always coming above you, and you couldn’t just be solely financially reliable on him, even if he was a millionaire. So after a long few days of gruelling arguments, you packed your bags and did what he told you to do.

“Live your life the way you couldn’t do with me holding you back.”

He was sorry, so sorry, heartbroken. I can still see his face when he let me go. Too darling to forget or stay mad at. You’ve just got to find the part of yourself that stayed with him, and maybe you’ll find it half way across the globe in between gorgeous beaches and scenic mountains while staying in a luxurious five star hotel.

Your days have been filled with hiking and swimming, spa days and sunbathing, fancy meals and getting drunk under the stars. But even though you’re living the dream, you haven’t quite found yourself yet. Maybe you will with your sightseeing plans for later on.

This afternoon, after you’ve spent the morning hiking, you’re ready for a calm afternoon back at your hotel, a leisurely swim in the pool to cool down and maybe some sunning on the adjoining beach.

You make your way back to the car you hired, a beat up jeep, but it’s a pleasure to drive around the mountains. But as you walk back there, you see someone. No, it can’t be him. It was just someone with the same hairstyle as him. Wearing the same shirt that he used to wear all the time. And wearing the same glasses. It has to be a coincidence, he can’t be here, it’s just your mind playing tricks.

Part of you even wants him to be here, but the correct part of your brain knows that your longing thought us nothing more than wantonly cohorted, made up from missing him and being away from the last place you could call home. So without another thought, you open the door to the car and climb into the driver's seat. You’re suddenly conscious of the way you’re dressed: canvas shorts with a sun top and billowy button down, but even if it is more of a practical outfit, you still look damn good in it, so calm yourself down.

Starting the car is easier said than done, because as soon as you slot the key in and turn it, the engine vibrates for a few seconds and lets out a low grumble, and then it dies. Internally you curse yourself, and you hit the steering wheel a few times to release some steam. This was always Tom’s area of expertise, you never had to deal with car mechanics, but instead of making it a big deal, you give it a go again, only for the engine to crash again.

Footsteps sound outside the car on the gravel and sand, and then a head appears at your rolled down window, followed by a voice you never thought you’d hear again.

“Need some help, Miss?”

You turn your head so quickly that you feel something pull. No no no, he cannot be here on your get away trip.

He smiles at you lopsidedly until realisation dawns on his face. In that moment, his cheeks fall and his red eyes droop. He is definitely high, but high tom is the best tom, all slow and cuddly.

“W-what are you doing here, Y/N?” he asks incredulously, his enunciated British tone raspy and soothing all at once, grounding you.

“Vacation. Um, you?”

You fumble over your words, scrutinised under the piercing blue of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Filming.” he says.

Even after you split up, you’d never expected it to get this awkward if you ever met again. You’re definitely not over him yet, you can tell by the way butterflies flitter inside your stomach just at the sight of his day-old stubble and the tufts of sun kissed hair that poke out from his cap.

“That’s, um, nice,” you respond and offer him a shy smile, “Would you mind, um?”

He nods and moves around to the hood of the car. You watch as he turns his cap around and rolls up his sleeves, revealing his gorgeously tanned and toned forearms. You lose yourself and all inhibitions as he works to find out the problem, his seamless movements and his cute thinking face that crinkles his forehead and scrunches his nose. How he’s always so willing to help in any circumstance and the undying love that he revels in day after day, it’s like basking in eternal joy whenever you’re around Tom because not a single moment is dull. You can’t help but remember the way it felt when he kissed you, the fire that his touch left in its wake, the gentle way he held you through countless nights.

“Sorted, sweet pea.” he says, leaning against your car door with his head against the window frame.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “No one’s called me that since you.”

The words are out before you can stop them, your sad smile unmoving from your face despite being filled with longing, and it just so happens to match his expression exactly.

“I have to film this afternoon, but how about I take you out for dinner? We can just, I don’t know, catch up? It can’t be a coincidence that we’ve bumped into each other.”

You don’t even have to think before the answer is spilling from your lips rather enthusiastically, a definite yes with a vigorous nod. He chuckles, slipping his hand through the window to clasp yours.

“I still have your number, so I’ll text you a time and place, yeah sweet pea? I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, “bye tom.”

You watch as he walks away before starting the car, your thoughts the whole way back to the hotel filled with nothing but Tom and thoughts for the night. Dinner with your ex really is a risk, but maybe, just maybe if he reciprocated your lingering feelings, it’ll pay off.

No matter how much you want to spend the afternoon carelessly swimming and enjoying yourself, taking in the views all around you and revelling in the South African sunlight, you simply can’t. Every moment you close your eyes, Tom’s smile illuminates your thoughts and fills your body with a prickling longing. It’s a bitter feeling that scares you, unnerving you and forcing you to lose all hope for the night ahead. Your phone buzzes on your way to the spa, thinking maybe a hot stone massage will clear your mind, but you quit when you see what he’s written. You haven’t deleted his number from your phone either.

PAPI ♡ : What hotel are you at? I’ll grab you for dinner at 7. Dress fancy, preferably in that nice black dress I love, but you look perfect in everything. T x

That black dress. The same one you haven’t worn since your last night out before the break up. Maybe you will wear it, maybe you won’t. You tap out a reply, signing with a smiley face and no kisses no matter how much you want to press that x like there’s a gravitational pull, but it just doesn’t feel right in the circumstances.

PAPI ♡ : I’ll be there, sweet pea. T x

That might be Tom’s worst habit of them all. Constantly signing his texts with ‘T’ when you obviously know that it’s him. It used to gnaw at you, especially when he’d send particularly needy texts, multiple in a row, and sign them all the same way, but often, it was rather cute. He always was crap with technology.

All the memories come flying back at a terrifying pace, the different texts calling to you from your phone, begging for you to relive the good old days. No, you can’t. You won’t give in to such an insane impulse. It’s bad enough that you agreed to go to dinner with your ex, you can’t let anything cloud your mind to make you more malleable for the night. So to resist temptation, you throw your belongings down on a sun lounger and grasp a cocktail over a nearby bar, downing it briefly before diving head first and breaking the surface of the water. Maybe a swim will distract you until you have to get ready.

Tom spent his whole afternoon messing up lines. Not for a minute could he focus. His lunchtime beer ended up being drunk faster than he’d wanted to, and he hardly ate a thing, for his stomach was filled with butterflies. Whenever anything was said in the script or on set that linked his mind back to you, he went hazy for a solid minute. Every time he’d try to pull himself together, and would fail, remembering how your hands felt when you tied his hair back or undressed him.

Eventually, it was too much.

“CUT!” the director screamed an hour early. “Stop, just stop. Go home, sleep, come back tomorrow. We haven’t got a single decent shot in hours, Felton.”

Tom gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down beneath a feathering of stubble that had made its way down there. Faintly, he nodded and ran a trembling hand through his hair before pulling a cap on. He rolled his sleeves up briefly, wandered to his dressing room, and fell into a chair, his thoughts whirring around his head too fast for him to form a sensical sentence. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? So, he grabbed his belongings and ran to his car, driving to his hotel to play his sorrows away while awaiting your date.

Once coming in from the pool, you spend a few hours prepping yourself, primping and dressing for the date. You want to look good for Tom, but also for yourself. You always dressed up to feel good about yourself and it was just a bonus that Tom worshipped you, even more when he knew you’d made an extra effort. Curling your hair, dabbing on lipstick, even buckling the straps on your sandals fills your stomach with butterflies and gives you goose bumps all over your skin, already prickling with the blush you received from looking in the mirror. It’s time.

Your walk out to the front of the hotel feels foreign, your ankles wobbling in the heels you decided on, and even as the humid air hits you, you feel a little exposed and chilled. However, any anxiety dissipates when you see Tom walking towards you, a dopey and ever loving smirk on his sun kissed face, crisp chinos with loafers and a billowy button down, loose around the neck. The evening breeze blows the short sleeves up and gives you a peek at the curls of ink that hug his arm in the shape of a dog, the same as how you see the contrast on his ankle between the dark palm trees and his white skin.

You don’t realise you’ve been standing still and tearing apart his every exquisite feature until he’s an inch away from you and his fingers have slipped around your own, holding your hand loosely and keeping you close.

“Hi.” he says, his mouth pulling to a grin.

“Hi.” you return, pacing your fingers with his own more intricately to distract yourself from how crimson your cheeks are.

“Come on,” he picks up his pace back to where he’s parked, “I’ve got a surprise.”

He plays show tunes the whole journey, silly show tunes that put a smile on your face and ones you can’t help but sing along to. He keeps his calloused palm on your knee, brushing some hair behind your ears or sneaking a kiss on your cheeks whenever possible, but the journey isn’t long enough for anything major, nor long enough for you to take apart every piece of hospitality he’s offered you so far. It’s just dinner with an ex, right? Yeah, that is until he pulls up outside a five-star luxury restaurant, complete with a mini ballroom floor and a stage where stands a woman in an evening gown, warbling out in a different language.

“We’re around the back, I have connections.”

His smile is as luminous as the twinkling lights that he’s had arranged in the trees on the back terrace of the restaurant. One table sits with a bottle of wine balanced precariously atop, a single rose in a fluted vase, two wine glasses and sets of cutlery, and with the sun setting and the fairy lights, it’s perfectly ambient. You want to speak, but you can’t find the words. Maybe, if he pulled out all the stops this way, he feels the same as you do.

He pulls your chair out before sitting down himself, pours your glass of rose wine first, and even orders your favourite meal. The amount of times you’ve ordered that very same thing though, it must be ingrained in his mind. Neither of you say a word except for meek thank you’s, and tension fills the air, not ceasing until the waiter delivers a bread platter.

“Oh,” Tom says to the waiter, a little startled, “do you have any crackers? She doesn’t eat bread before meals, or, well, at all.”

The waiter nods and scurries away, but you’re left with a burning blush on your cheeks, anxiously tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You remembered,” you chuckle softly, feeling a little giddy even though its one of your more stupid habits.

“Of course I did, I remember everything about you.”

He reaches over the table and leaves his palm open. You give it a moment of thought before wrapping your fingers around his own, tracing the lines and sun spots. He’s so familiar yet so different, your time apart somehow meeting your shared experiences, the cons outweighing the pros, something causing a barrier.

You engage in small talk while you eat, simple conversations of how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to, only very few anecdotes shared from your past relationship. It feels so natural between the two of you, just the sight of his wispy dark blonde curls is still enough to make your heart flutter, but both of you are holding something back. Nothing changes until you’re half-way through your second bottle of wine, liquid courage making you buzz.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, holding nothing back, taking just one more risk before you close off the Tom chapter of your life for good. “Do you miss us? The way we were? Who we were with each other?”

He doesn’t say a word, only looks at you with heavy blue eyes, pleading.

“Do you miss the way I used to kiss you good morning? The way you’d kiss me goodnight? The good times we had, even the bad. Do you not miss me at all?”

He swallows thickly and takes a heavy swig of wine. He signals to a waiter who clears your dishes, and then he leans on his bare forearms over the table, both of his hands holding yours as he stares into your soul, those mystical ocean eyes boring into your pained soul.

“I miss it all,” he says in his hoarse tone, “I miss you and our life more than you can imagine. If it was up to me, I’d never have let you go, but I couldn’t keep you tied down. So before you leave forever, can we have one nice night and pretend like we aren’t completely fucking broken?”

You see tears in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks at any given moment. You hold his hands tighter, letting your soft fingers dance up his arms, anything to feel the warmth of his skin against you once more.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” you whisper, Hoping that the sound is blown away with the wind, or disguised by the melodious singing from just inside the restaurant, but no. He hears your words as clear as day.

“Then don’t go. Don’t leave me again. Come back and we’ll make it better, I won’t work, we don’t need to, and you can live out all of your goals too. It’s high time that you come back where you belong, by my side. Don’t leave again, Sweet pea. Please.”

You’ve never heard him sound so desperate. He clings to you, kisses your hands, and when you’re too dumbfounded to respond, he gently pulls you up and brings you upright to a flat area of the terrace.

A sweet and familiar melody flows with the wind and the bird song, softly filling your ears from the restaurant, seeping into your own little circle with Tom. He cradles his forearm around your waist, his hand splayed on the small of your back. His other cups the palm of your hand gracefully as you rest your head on his cloth covered shoulder. He still smells the same, that same mix of smoke and beer and firewood as always, the musk of his aftershave lingering on the expanse of his neck, a faint sweat from the sun clinging to his freckles.

As soon as the lyrics start, you bury your head further into Tom’s neck, chest to chest, keeping him close.

‘Come on skinny love just last a year,

Pour a little salt we were never here,’

“Come home with me and let's pretend you never left.” Tom suggests, swaying in time with the music, your body moving in time with his even if you aren’t particularly responsive to what he’s saying. “It’ll be better now. We can make it better.”

You hum against his neck noncommittal, the vibrations sending warmth through his chest. His hands roam your body, the snug fitting of his favourite dress hugging your body all too familiar to him. It’s muscle memory to trace the contours of your body beneath the black poplin, the gaps of lace giving him a peek to your dappled skin, and the slightly lower neckline still driving him crazy. His chinos hold his legs and give the silhouette of his muscles, tensing as he dances meek waltz steps, his body naturally leading the way for yours to follow, his shirt blowing open more as you hold him closer. His warmth is what you need, his body, his heart, all of him.

“I want to come back, we’ll make it work,” you whisper, toppling between your heels in what somehow resembles a slow dance to the music still coursing through your veins and making you alive.

‘In the morning I'll be with you

But it will be a different kind

'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets

And you'll be owning all the fines’

“Let's take the risk, sweet pea.”

His voice is no more than a hoarse whisper, illuminating your mind in places that you forgot, his words making your heart flutter. This is it, you love him and you have to go back with him.

‘Come on skinny love…’

“Maybe, “ you start, “Just maybe, this isn’t skinny love anymore.”

Reaching up on your tiptoes and cupping the back of his neck, gently tugging the hair at the nape, you bring his lips down to yours, finally meeting in a kiss, one that’s been months coming. He brings his palms up to your cheeks, holding and caressing while your eyes are squeezed shut, focussing on the deepening massage of his lips against yours. It’s so welcoming, so warming, so homely. This was definitely a risk worth taking.

#tom felton #draco malfoy #tom felton imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco tok #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #tom felton smut #tom felton fluff #draco fan fic #thomas felton

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destielficsndrabbles · 3 years

Note

What is your top 5 Destiel fics?

So I abandoned this blog years ago because the show was pissing me off and i had to take a step back. But, I’m feeling the vibe of the fandom again so I’ll give give it the old college try again. Anyway, here are some favorites. They’re all E or M because I’m a thirsty bitch.

My Top Five Destiel Fics

a turn of the earth by microcomets (M)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

There’s Only One Sure Thing I Know by blinkiesays (E)

Dean doesn’t even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby’s point: he’s faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he’s been defeated by the God damn Midwest.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (E)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

The Most Important Thing by NorthernSparrow (E)

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he’s struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord (E)

A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there.

At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history.

Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe.

Bonus: Two Favorite Finale Fix-its

Nothing Equals the Splendor by RurouniHime (E)

(The other fic written by this author is amazing too and we should all bully them into writing more for destiel)

Maybe it’s the cynic in him. The hunter, always under the surface of any quietude he ever found. Or maybe it’s just that he has always had trouble with blind faith. But after a while (a blink? A decade? A century?), Dean raises his eyebrows, looks around, and says—“Uh. No.”It’s so close. Just so slightly imperfect. And maybe, he analyzes, maybe that’s the final knell of this bell called contentment. Dean’s experience with happiness has always been that last rise in the road, right before it turns. Right before fate comes barreling around the corner head on.He turns in his spot on the bridge, and suddenly Sam is like a cellophane film through which he can see the light streaming, and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue is much, much older a memory than it should be.

“Oh, you’re good,” he says, and means it.

Under the Same Sun by prosopopeya (E)

In which time is infinite, and so is the list of people willing to help Dean figure out what to do about Cas.

A fix-it for a lot of things: Dean’s repressed bisexuality, Dean’s utterly inexplicable failure to realize what Cas meant, the Charlie & Dean brother/sister content I crave, among others.

Bonus x2: A Shameless Plug for my own Romantic Comedy A/U Series

Ignore the Butterflies: Best Friend Advice from Dean Winchester by impatient14

What do you get when you add Firefighter!Dean to standoffish-Doctor!Castiel?

A thousand other fics, you say? Aaaand what’s your point exactly??!?!

Dean likes his doctor, but his doctor doesn’t like him. Accidental friendship ensues, heartwarming bonding type moments occur, and oops!friends become best!friends. But best friends aren’t supposed to feel the way Dean feels about Castiel. He knows this. So he ignores all the things that he can’t help feeling. When he sits and watches a movie with his best friend or when they are arguing about which method of coffee brewing is best, he pointedly doesn’t look at his friends lips, or the adorable way he tilts his head when he doesn’t understand.

Dean ignores his feelings. That’s the way he knows how to keep his best friend. Just ignore the butterflies.

#destiel #destiel fic rec #destiel fic #deancas #supernatural

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star-lemonade · 3 years

Text

School reunion (1/3)

A.C.E Junhee x Reader

Cw: bulling, kinda angsty, Junhee is a sweet heart though

Rating: T (Series R)

Word count: 3.6 k

Summary: You hire someone to accompany you to your school reunion.

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. The laptop sat on the kitchen table and the page in the browser was taunting you. You stared at the screen from your spot against the kitchen counter. The empty boxes waited for you to fill in your information. Should I really do this?

You sighed and filled some water into the kettle just to delay having to make a decision. The other thing on the kitchen table was not better. It was an invitation to your school reunion. The reunion was scheduled for the Saturday of the following week at your old school. School. Even the address on the paper brought a bad taste to your mouth.

“You’re so ugly, who would ever date you?”

“I dare you to kiss her.”

“Yak not even for money”

You shuddered. No, no, there is no way I will go there alone. You sat down at the table and began to fill in the form. Name, address, phone and age. On the next page they asked about the occasion or event and you typed: school reunion.

Time? about 3 hours. I won’t stay there for too long.

Gender preference? Hmm I don’t actually care. ‘Don’t care’ was not an option, so you chose ‘man preferred’ over the ‘man only’, ‘woman preferred’ and ‘woman only’ options.

Age preferences? 25-35. I can’t show up there with an 18 year old.

Your finger hovered over the enter button. The shadow of your school days was still haunting you and made your hand heavier until you finally clicked check out.

You had officially rented a plus one for your school reunion.

A day after you had filled out the form you received a message from an unknown number.

“Hello, this is Junhee. I will accompany you to your school reunion next week. Would it be okay if I asked some questions so I can prepare?”

“Hi, Junhee. What do you want to know?”

“How should I introduce myself?”

You chewed on your lip. As you typed the next message your face felt warm.

“As my boyfriend.”

It felt so sad to ask this of a total stranger and you prayed he would not judge you for it. Please don’t question this, please don’t question this.

“How long have we been together?”

I guess that is a valid question someone could ask. You thought about it for a moment. It should not be too short but also not too long. The fact that you did know much about each other would make it not believable that you are together for years.

“A few months maybe?”

He asked a few more questions like “where and how did we meet?” (“at work while getting coffee”) and you answered them with whatever struck your mind.

“Okay. I think this is enough for me. Thank you!”

You sighed. This was actually more complicated than you had anticipated. At least now it felt real as opposed to just a scam to get money from people. Three dots appeared on your screen again.

“One last thing. This is also in the terms of service, but we all must remind our customers about this: I am not a hooker and you did not book sexual favours.”

Your face burned when you read that. Surely no one had asked for that before, had they?

“Of cause not, I just don’t want to go alo-”

Before you really thought about it, you had accidently pressed ‘send’ instead of backspace. Oh no. OH NO.

“Shit.”

My escort knows how pathetic I am. ‘As if he did not know before’ another part of you interjected. Your phone vibrated again.

“It’s okay, I will do my best to keep you company :)”

You did not know what to answer and just send:

“Thank you.”

As the reunion neared you found yourself thinking about it more. A sort of dread had settled in your chest. After all these years you would finally face your bullies. The people who had belittled you for not been pretty enough and made you believe that you could never find anyone who loved you. The worst thing was it seemed that they were right. You were single and you even had to hire someone… no. No, you would not let them get to you. The past years had been the happiest you had ever been. You had friends, even if they were not many, and you did well at your job. There was nothing not to be proud of. Even if you were single now, that did not mean you were unlovable. It just meant that you had not met a person that fit. You would walk in there, head held high and show those petty bitches you were not afraid of them anymore.

Your mood oscillated between confident and anxious for the whole week. You did not want to give them the satisfaction of knowing you were still so affected by them, that their mere presence could make you stay away. No, you had to go. Like this you killed the time to the day of the reunion.

You had rented a dress from a rental service. It was not too fancy but you simply did not own that many dresses and the ones you had did not seem appropriate. Someone on the organizing committee had decided that nice dresses and suits were what they wanted to see. You had messaged Junhee to wear something appropriate for that dress code.

“In a few hours it’s over.”

Your mirror image was not convinced by this but it was all you could do now. Backing out last minute would make you look bad, even if you really wanted to. All of this seemed like a bad idea. What if they found out that you had hired someone to play your boyfriend? You would be the laughing stock of the whole school and this after you had not been in school for years. For a moment you considered just taking off the dress, putting on some sweaters and sitting down on the couch. Your phone made a noise. A new message had arrived.

“At 5 pm at the station, right?”

Junhee.

“Yes. See you there.”

As if it was mocking you, the sun shone from a bright blue sky. The people on the street smiled more than you had seen in some time. On the other hand it was maybe your imagination. Now that you were walking to what could be the worst night of your recent history, everyone seemed in a better state than you.

You arrived at the station.

“I’m wearing a red dress.”

Maybe the dress was a bit much. It had seemed like a good idea. Wearing red would make you stand out. Now, however, that was the opposite of what you wanted to do. Fading into the background, turning invisible and just straight up going back home was what you really wanted right now. The only thing that was that held you back was the thought of the money you had spent upfront for your plus one.

Two young women stopped next to you. One of them sat her backpack down and tried to stuff a paper bag into it.

“Should I help?”

Her friend watched her struggle with amusement. Despite her offer she did not help backpack girl but looked around instead.

You shifted your attention to your phone. Junhee had seen your message. Good. I hope he will be here soon. So we can get this over with.

“Jeez, I wish my boyfriend looked like that,” the girl said as her friend proclaimed: “I’m done. Let’s go.”

Backpack girl dragged her friend away. At least she had a boyfriend. It was not like you needed a man in your life but it would be nice sometimes. Next week I will try tinder. From past experience that was not likely but the thought alone seemed to pacify your mind for now. Getting a boyfriend was future-you’s problem. Present-you had to worry about that goddamn school reunion.

Someone said your name.

“Hmm?”

You were not sure which part shocked you the most: the crisp black suit that hugged the man’s body perfectly, the curly dark hair that looked straight out of a romcom, the beautiful lips and handsome face, the million dollar smile or the soft voice that said your name. It was hard to choose.

“Ehm?”

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Junhee.”

“ID please.”

You showed it to the sour faced student behind the supermarket counter. He nodded and you paid. Buying hard alcohol in broad daylight was highly suspicious but this situation called for it. You definitely could not do this sober. Junhee had sat down on a bench not too far from the supermarket. The black suit and white dress shirt fit him perfectly. It was as if watching a photo shoot for the next wedding catalog. Oh, this is a catastrophe. You unscrewed the bottle and took a good mouthful. The cheap alcohol burned in your mouth and all the way down. No one in their right mind would believe he is my boyfriend. It could not be more obvious that you had hired him. Junhee watched the cars go by. The sun made his hair seem more brown than black and the light breeze moved the soft locks. You took another gulp and stuffed the bottle in your handbag. Did I accidentally book a model? There had not been an option for that of course. I should have asked for a photo. You left the store and walked over to Junhee. Maybe I should just send him home and go drink at a bar.

When he saw you, Junhee stood up. His charming smile filled you with dread. This is a car crash waiting to happen.

“Did you get everything?”

You nodded. Soon the alcohol would hit your brain. Maybe then you would care less about everything. You could not bring yourself to send Junhee away. He had come here, looking sharp and you had paid money for him to be here. Your stinginess won against better judgment, so your only option was the original one: go to your old school.

It felt like there was a black cloud of doom that thickened as you got nearer. The bad experiences from the past made every step you took towards that hell hole more difficult. You wanted to run away.

“Can I take your hand?”

Junhee. You had almost forgotten about him. He had not said anything for the past ten minutes or so. Maybe he felt that now was not a good time to talk. You offered your hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours. It had been some time since you held someone’s hand and it made your heart beat faster. Or maybe it was the liquor.

You turned the corner and there it was. The building looked the same as in your memory. Whoever had the idea of starting the evening here before instead of going to a restaurant directly, did not have your gratitude. Walking through the front door stiffly, you clenched your hands. Your whole body was tense. You were ready to fight or flee at any second.

Voices were coming from the gym. Next to the open door stood a table. On it were pens and stickers. As you approached a woman came through the door and smiled at you. It was the most fake smile you had seen in some time.

“Welcome! Please make a name tag for yourself.”

She made a swiping gesture to the table. You let go of Junhee’s hand and wrote your name on a sticker. The woman watched Junhee as he made a tag for himself. You had never been the jealous type but right then wanted to claw her eyes out.

“Have fun.”

You almost felt her looking as you entered the gym. The hall was filled with bar tables groups had formed and all eyes were on you. At one of the empty tables you stopped.

“I will get something to drink. What do you want?”

You barely heard your own answer over the ringing in your ears. The ceiling had been decorated but it made the hall seem more shabby. As if the paper garlands were only there to hide the cracks in the grey concrete. You looked around.

They looked back at you from the other table, pointed and smirked at each other. Your bullies. They looked old. The ten years since graduation had carved lines into their faces but they tried to hide it by applying too much makeup.

You felt sick.

“Hey.”

A hand landed on your shoulder and you jerked. Junhee pulled back his hand. He studied your face.

“Do you want to leave?”

You looked up. Leave? Leaving meant giving up. They won if you left. No, no you were strong. Your hand strangled your purse. You would not run away from them. Junhee‘s brown eyes watched the tremor in your hand.

“Let’s go,” he whispered and took your hand. Your skin was cold and sweaty against his as Junhee dragged you out. You were so shocked, you did not even say anything until you had left through the front door.

“Stop!”

You ripped your hand free from his grasp.

“You should not stay there any longer.”

“That is not your call to make,” you snapped at him.

His face flushed.

“No, but it is the right one.”

Before you could talk back he continued in a calm tone: “You don’t care about any of those people and they don’t care about you.”

He waved his hands.

“I don't know what happened in the past but you are not here to meet some old friends.”

Your eyes burned. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s humiliating. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision blurred.

“Not here.”

Junhee grabbed your shoulder and led you away. The tears fogged your vision, so you just followed wherever he was going. Your feet moved on their own accord and you were thankful for it. Holding back an undignified sob took up all your mental capacity.

“Sit.”

You collapsed on the bench. There was nothing holding the tears back now. You looked like an idiot in front of everyone. Your bullies had seen you turn up with an escort only to run away the second they looked at you. And now you cried on a bench in front of said escort. How pathetic had your life become? You had not felt this bad since leaving school.

Get a grip. There was nothing to be done here. You did not feel better by telling yourself this, but at least one of these could be fixed. Try to stop crying.

You concentrated on a point on the ground. The concrete was cracked there and something green had started to push its way to the surface. Plants are amazing. They can even exist in these places.

Your eyes still burned and your nose was all clogged up, but you had stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, Junhee.”

You looked up. There was no one around. When did he leave? You sighed and your eyes burnt again. I guess it is just that kind of day. Going home sounded like a good idea but you could not bring yourself to get up. The weight of your sorrows kept you on the bench. You could not even blame Junhee for leaving either. Usually you were very composed and rarely had outbursts of any kind, but today was just not your day.

“Here.”

A bottle of water entered your field of view. Your gaze followed the arm that was holding it up until you met Junhee’s eyes. You took the bottle and almost cried again because he was still here. For better or worse he had not abandoned you on a bench.

The water was cold. It had clearly been in a fridge not too long ago.

“Thank you.”

Junhee sat down next to you and waited while you drank the water. This day, although it was not over, was already a train wreck. Very carefully Junhee asked: “Can we get something to eat?”

You nodded slowly. Food was not a bad idea. You had skipped lunch because you had not been hungry at the time.

“Sure.”

Junhee stood up and looked around, hands on his hips. He turned to you and asked in a hushed tone:

“Where do we have to go?”

There was nothing funny about it but you laughed anyway. Junhee looked like a lost puppy and when he saw you laughing, he pouted. Now this really was funny.

“The station is that way.”

Junhee looked at his phone. He took off his tie and pocketed it.

“Technically I’m free to go now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “We just got here and ordered food and you want to go?” was what you wanted to say but swallowed it. You were still embarrassed and grateful that Junhee was there with you. He had made dumb jokes all the way to your favorite restaurant. It was almost on the other end of town but it was the only place you wanted to be right now.

“So, you wanna leave?”

“Leave? No, no!”

He waved his hands frantically.

“I … meant I’m not here because of work now.”

The soju had painted Junhee’s cheeks a rosy red. It looked good on him.

“What do you do when you don’t do this?”

You gestured vaguely at you and him sitting together in your favorite restaurant. Surely it had to be model or something like that just based on what you had seen so far. Technically you were not supposed to ask personal questions but your contract was done. Technically.

“I’m a student. I study computer science, but I will graduate soon.”

He took a sip from his drink. That rang a bell in the back of your mind. Computer science? Someone was talking to me about that not long ago. Who was it?

The waiter came and set your food on the table. He opened the lid of the barbecue that was mounted in the table.

“Have a good meal.”

“Thank you.”

When you left the restaurant, the sun had set. You felt a little awkward. It had been nice spending time with Junhee even if you had been very distressed earlier. Before you could really think about it, the words fell from your mouth.

“Thank you for spending the day with me. It was nice.”

You did not look at him. It felt unnatural but you meant it and had to say it.

“It was nice for me too.”

Junhee’s hair was not as neat as earlier. The waves had flattened and the way he always combed it left it looking disheveled. His cheeks were flushed from the food and the drinks.

You were not sure what to say. “Goodbye for ever” seemed a bit odd.

“Good luck with your studies. See you around.”

“Goodbye.”

You left Junhee at the restaurant and walked home. It was not too far so you could walk. The night air was refreshing after the stuffy restaurant. It also cleared the dryness of your eyes and nose.

Your apartment was dark and empty. You took a quick shower, put on your pyjamas and went to bed. The day had been emotionally exhausting and you were drifting into the fuzzy precursor to sleep. Your mind drifted through some memories and thoughts but nothing was clear. It hit you. You were wide awake because your brain had found the answer to the question. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand. The light from the screen nearly blinded you.

John, a name he had chosen because none of his overseas clients could pronounce ‘Seungmin’, was the CTO of a company that had their offices in the same building as your company. Without thinking much about it you sent Junhee John’s number.

“He is looking for some computer science people. Maybe that’s something for you. Anyways good luck and best wishes.”

You tried not to think too much about that day. It still felt like a defeat even months later. You had run away from your bullies. They had looked at you and you had folded. It was a bitter memory. The logical part of you noted that it was not worth your time, that you should focus on the tasks at hand and live your life.

You spent time with your friends and on your hobbies. Indeed your spirits lifted slowly. The less time you spent ruminating about the past the more time you could spend on other things.

“Let’s get lunch. I’m starving.”

You agree with your colleague. You grabbed your phone and keys. Your colleague was already at the elevator and held open the door.

Two floors down the elevator stopped and the door opened.

“Hey!”

John and some of his staff entered. You waved and smiled. John was a man in late 40 or early 50s, you had never asked, but he gave off the youthful energy of someone who loved his job. A ‘ding!’ announced the closing of the doors but John jammed his leg and arm between it.

“Hurry up, newbie! We can’t have you starve on the first day!”

Steps echoed in the hallway and the newbie flew into the tight space. The young man had dark hair and wore round glasses. With the dark blue sweater and the jeans he gave off the youthful vibe of a university student. He was very handsome and your face burnt.

Junhee.

#wkcnet #noonasinnetwork #Junhee x reader #Junhee smut #A.C.E smut #a.c.e x reader #kpop x reader #a.c.e fanfic #A.C.E fics #kpop fanfic #non idol au #star writing #queue for the lemonade stand

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

More like him

Dean x reader

So I had this request :

I loved it, but it was a real challenge because I thing it wouldn’t be really “Dean like” to go on a diet. It took me months to manage to be satisfied by it. I really hope you like it. Oh, and I added a little Smut, couldn’t help it.

For me this fic is kinda part of the Become that Girl “saga”.

Warning : Swearing. Sassy Sam. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors and drinking. Jealous Dean. Insecurities. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Angst. Fluffy Fluff.

This is both in Reader’s Pov and Dean’s Pov

Words : 10.3 k (yes. You asked for it.)

Jay’s MASTERLIST

Dean’s Pov

A grunt and a yawn. I turn around, a little pain in my neck from sleeping on the same position for hours.

I drank too much last night, again. My arm blindly searches for a bottle of water in the deep dark of my windowless room to fight the intense dry feeling in my mouth, but I find nothing.

“Shit.”

One more night in a shady bar, one more hangover, and one more woman I won’t remember.

Woman…

I frown with my eyes still closed and think of her, my stomach gets sick. She was among the prettiest girl I have been with, and she was a little too young for me, I’m sure she wasn’t twenty-five yet. I remember her friends, young and fit boys and girls, celebrating a birthday.

It’s really something how you see things differently when you’re drunk and when you are not. Maybe that’s why I drink so much : the sober truth gives me the creeps. Yesterday, I was feeling lucky, honored that a beautiful woman had laid her eyes on me, amazed by how confident she was. It felt like I had won the lottery of life, sex life at least. I was on top of the world, I could barely walk straight, but I didn’t care.

This morning is different. I lay here, nausea making me sweat, disgusted by my own smell and the taste in my mouth, wondering how I came home. I drove Baby drunk like Hell, I could have hurt someone, or damaged her.

“Shit” I grunt again.

How pathetic it is to go look for a college girl to feel alive ? How pathetic it is to spend the whole time we spent together too focused on trying not to be too old or too drunk to actually enjoy any of it ? How pathetic it is to think of another woman, the very second my eyes open ?

I need coffee.

I get up and make my way to the bathroom to pee and take a shower, I can’t stand the smell on me : alcohol sweat, the detergent of the cheap motel room I took not to bring her to our secret home, and, well, shame.

After brushing my teeth, I drink all I can from the sink and wonder if she is here. I really hope she is.

Y/n.

The woman I call my friend. The person that have actually been my closest friend with Benny and Cas, maybe even closer. If she’s in the kitchen, she will make fun of me, she will make loud pan noises just to make my headache worse because she says hangover is not enough punishment for hurting my body like that. But in the end, she will probably order pizzas and spend the day with me in the Dean cave not really watching movies while talking about any kind of stuff from hunts to music, from social matters to memories, food -she talks about food a lot, with sparkles in her eyes-, movies, sharks during shark week, horror movie clichés, her childhood, mine, and really intimate things like Hell, Purgatory, like my mom, her dad, our dreams...

I didn’t know I had so much dreams.

I put on underwear and the grey robe, then shuffle my way to the kitchen in the slippers that makes her call me grandpa.

Sam is there. All energetic, dressed with those black sweatpants and this ridiculously tight shirt, he's pressing oranges or whatever, and it's noisy as hell.

"Can't you be quite in the morning ?" I groan with a pained frown, sitting with my coffee in front of me.

"Morning ? It's noon, Dean. So, how was last night ? I guess it must have been great considering how late you came back."

"You heard me come back ?" I ask, wondering how late it actually was.

"No, but Y/n waited for you, and around five a.m. she thought you weren't coming home at all, so she went to bed. That's why we haven't been running yet, she barely slept."

I look at him but he's now turning his back on me to fill a bottle with water.

She has to stop doing that, waiting for me. I told her a few times already but it's like she was a worried mom or something. Y/n is always like that, she worries too much, every cut on Sam or me is a mortal wound, every yawn is a sign of exhaustion. And even if I secretly love this way more than I'll ever admit, I can't let her wait for me all night.

"Hey Dean" her voice catches my attention and I turn to meet her tired eyes.

How can she smile like that after the night she had ? How can she give me that kind smile? I really don't deserve it. I'm disgusting, damaged, violent even... Look at her.

She walks in and I can't help but drift along her naked legs, strong and soft. She's wearing her working out shorts, the ones torturing me some days, those tiny grey shorts holding her waist, that makes it impossible to not linger on her thighs. The t-shirt she wears is one of mine, or was, since she never gave it back. It's a plain back worn out t-shirt that has really nothing special. She says it's the comfiest.

"Hangover ?" she asks, handing me a slice of her apple.

"Yeah" I grunt, taking it.

I don't like rabbit food and she knows it. So instead of telling me to eat some, like Sam constantly tried for a while, she just gives me little bites of hers. A piece of apple there, a bite of banana, a little of spinach on her fork... and I always let her feed me, maybe just because she does with that adorable kind of smile each time.

"You came back late" she states, turning her back on me.

There is not an ounce of reproach in her voice, but something slightly sad. Maybe she pities me. If she had seen my evening, she would for sure.

A flash of that girl from yesterday saying my tattoo is weird and old fashion comes to my mind and I rub my face.

"Is there a hunt ?" I ask.

I really need a hunt, I really need some action and to get out of here.

"No" my brother lightly shakes his head.

"I thought I had found one" Y/n adds. "But it turns out it really was a bear this time !"

Her chuckle warms my heart.

"Movies in my room ?" I offer, trying to sound like it doesn't really matter, but the truth is, this perspective is what got me out of bed...

Reader's Pov

I cut another slice of apple with my hunter knife and give it to him.

"Hum, maybe later" I answer, looking away. "Sam and I planned on running to the lake..."

"The lake !" he almost chokes. "It's like twelve miles away !"

Sam chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder, to inform me he's ready to go. He has been waiting for me a long time already, but I needed to check on Dean before I left for the day.

"Yeah..." I mumble. "And I want to practice my gun skills after, of fight skills if Sammy is not too tired from the running."

"I could help you practice too" he states and I give him a knowing smile.

Dean is not interested in training me, he never was. And, unlike me, he barely needs practice himself anyway, so why should he care ? He's just the best, that's natural. He's Dean Winchester, the best hunter in the world, the best man, the best everything actually. Between the ladies waiting in line to get a piece of him and his friends, the parties, but above all, constantly saving the world... He doesn't have time for me. We're not made of the same wood, I'm from those who have to work hard to keep up. And I never want to be a burden for any of them.

"What ? I could !" he grunts and his brother laughs.

"Yeah right, Dean" Sam mocks him, giving me my bag. "You would probably get a stitch from just stretching with Y/n ! She's getting good !"

"Don't listen to you brother" I assure Dean with a little smile on the corner of my lips.

I walk out of the bunker with Sam's back in front of me and bite my cheek, trying to ignore that sharp pain in my chest.

That pain that fell on me again while I was waiting for him, trying to not imagine what he was doing, that dread burning my guts ; and the other, even worse, pain that kept me awake once I was finally sure of what he was doing.

Once outside, the tall hunter stretches a little, humming at the soft spring breeze.

"Why did you wait again" he finally speaks, earning only a sigh from me. "Y/n... I know you need to make sure he's safe but you're hurting yourself. Talk to him..."

"We already talked about this" I just shrug before I start running.

Dean's Pov

I stay in the kitchen, my heart pounding in my head, my liver struggling.

Of course she won't spend the day with me. Why would she ? She waited all night and I was busy partying like those pathetic guys who didn't understand college is over.

You didn't even went to college...

Sipping at my coffee, I think of my brother’s hand on her shoulder and shiver, not really understanding why. I mean, he’s her friend too, a good friend actually, but something changed lately. They are close, more and more every day.

She used to spend all her time with me and now that I think of it… She does with him now. It started with morning runs, then there were going to the grocery store together. They cooked, Sam never cooked in his life, she taught him a few “healthy” recipes while I was making fun of them. Several times I found them talking until late in the library, or sending each other texts during hunts, when they were apart the whole day.

Maybe I’m missing something coming slow… Maybe the woman I think of the second I open my eyes in the morning thinks of Sam.

Why wouldn’t she ? My brother is better than me in every ways.

Sam is smart and educated, went to college and all. They can probably talk about things I have no idea of…

Sam is brave and fair. He’s the best man I know, and if I think of one man that would deserve a girl like her...

What are you saying ? There is no other girl like her.

But above all… Look at him. He just grew old way better than I did. All those healthy craps I always made fun of, in the end he’s right. While I was drinking beer for breakfast and eating fat crap, he was running, practicing. And yes, during hunts we're equals, because I was raised in this life, but if I had to catch him running, I would have a heart attack before he breaks a sweat.

I never cared about all of this. About having abs, comparing my body to my brother's, or about being healthy for that matters. Because let's be honest, I never really cared about myself. And girls like me…Right ?

Stupid.

What girls though. It was a long time since Cassie, since Lisa... And lately the one-night stands have had a bitter taste.

Sex with stranger was fun at first, for years it was. New body, new voice, new taste, and skin and preferences... I guess a guy feels pride by having sex with a lot of different women. But most of the time it's far from great and I’m tired of starting over every time.

I just wonder how it feels to actually get to know someone intimately, to learn what makes them squirm, their secrets, to wake up next to a friend... Love must be so nice.

The only person I can think of is her, Y/n. The woman that is my friend and the only one I want tell my secrets, the things that make me squirm...

My Y/n.

I grunt, my heart beating too fast because of hangover, my skin still smells alcohol despite the shower.

I'm such a wreck and she's so pure. That woman overcame bad things, and I have seen her so depressed that she barely could move at all for days in the beginning of our friendship. And yet, here she is, smiling, running and dancing in the library at night, making me want to be better every day, to think more, be less self-destructive, to feel pride more than shame. Pride for helping people, pride for my little brother that I helped grow up, and pride for being her friend.

She’s always there, smiling when I need a smile, listening even when I can’t talk, rolled up asleep on a little corner of my bed when I had a night of nightmares. Her hand was in my back when mom betrayed us and chose to leave, like it was the only thing keeping me up…

I can’t imagine her gone, impossible. And I’m realizing, I can’t imagine her in the arms of another man. That’s selfish, but I have to admit it now. I love her. And I want her, I need her.

Yet all I do is pushing her in my brother’s arms. In my brother’s strong and fit arms…

Reader’s Pov

I’m running, my feet hurt and I have a stitch on my left side, my thighs are already sore and my skin and lungs are burning. But I ignore them. I run.

I run to ignore my imagination and the images it brings. Dean laying on his back, giving his precious body to a blond girl that doesn’t even know who he is, how lucky she is. Dean grunting when she swallows around him. Dean grabbing her hair, biting her neck, coming inside her. Dean with two girls, why not…

I run.

“Y/n !” Sam’s voice interrupts me. “Wow, easy tiger.”

Out of breath, he puts his hands on his knees and frowns at me.

“You know the point of all of this is not to faint ? It’s about endurance, not a sprint or a race.”

“I’m sorry, Sam” I sigh, my body screaming at me even more now that I stopped.

“Is this about Dean ?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.

“How running too fast could be about your brother ?” I grunt.

“You know perfectly why I say that” he shrugs, drinking from his water bottle. “Avoiding him won’t prevent the hurt.”

“It avoids the nausea from smelling cheap perfume on him at least…” saying that, I sit on a bench that is close in a huff. “I just…” I sigh, burying my face in my hands. “How do I avoid the hurt then ?”

“Talk to him” my friend says, joining me on the bench to sit next to me, his tall shadow wrapping me like angel wings, hiding me from this world I hate right now.

“Don’t be ridiculous” I scoff. “Hey Dean, could you not have sex with anyone ? It hurts me. Thank you.”

Sam lets out a chuckle and bumps my shoulder with his giant arm.

A woman in an elegant sports outfit runs pass us, her tall form bouncing on her thin legs with grace, making her shiny hair fly. Dean would like her, he would totally sleep with her… Oh wait, we’re in Lebanon, there aren’t many girls that pretty around here, maybe he already did…

“How about ‘I have feelings for you’ ?”Sam suggests with puppy eyes and a childish adorable shrug.

I sigh, rubbing my face. Why doesn’t Sam understand ?

“Yeah so it can make our friendship awkward forever, with pity and shit” I look down at my hands. “Or so he chooses to erase my memory like he did with Lisa ?”

A silence falls between us.

Sam knows what I think of this, how angry it makes me. Of course I don’t want to see him with Lisa, in fact my heart arches each time I think of what they had together, but take those memories from her… It wasn’t his choice to make. I happened to put myself in her shoes and hated it. I would rather long for a single smile from him all my life than being amputated of the only part of me I cherish : My love for him.

The second reason I hate it is because of what it says about him : Dean is really convinced that he is not good enough. For anything, for anyone.

During one of our nights in the Dean cave together, not really watching movies and drinking whiskey, he talked about it. And I know how much Lisa and him were meant to break up eventually. She wasn’t a hunter, and she didn’t really want to know about this life, even if she respected it. He was holding on to her like she was his only chance at happiness because, in his mind, happiness can’t come with the hunter life.

Erasing her memory was not only a way to “protect her”, it was a closure for him. Away of closing the normal life door forever and throw away the key.

“You know he doesn’t think he deserves…” Sam starts but I cut him.

“Don’t.”

I am a hunter. And despite the fact that I am desperately in love with my friend and going crazy with jealousy, I am pretty happy.

I am happy with my life, my heroic, never boring, full of magic life. I mean, they lost a lot, but do they think people with an apple pie life don’t ? Before I became a hunter, I went to so many funerals that the funeral home employees knew me personally before I hit puberty. And when you lose your family to cancer and heart attack, or suicide… You don’t even get to know for sure they’re in Heaven.

But I am a hunter now, and I know. I am relieved and I feel safer, because magic exists, Heaven exists, and angels, even if they are quite different from what I had imagined.

“I just want Dean to be happy” I sigh and Sam’s giant hand rubs my back.

That’s the truth. I wish with all my heart that Dean would realize he can be happy now. That the horror he has been through is over, and that the hunter life he can’t quit doesn’t mean he has to be miserable.

And that is the reason I have to be the best friend I can. That’s the reason I have to swallow that jealousy that is making me bitter, to just love him, as selflessly as I can.

“Can we go home ?” I ask and Sam nods.

Dean’s Pov

I close the bathroom closet and swallow the pill, bending to drink water from the sink, then stand in front of the mirror.

I never really thought of it, but I’m a little pudgy. My hips are not straight and firm, is my butt a little large ? I frown, making my wrinkles appear and sigh. And those freckles… I never really paid attention to them until that college girl said something about it. Something with a kind smile but her mean girl voice betraying her : “I guess it’s cute, but it always kinda look like the skin is dirty, you don’t have too many on the face so it’s okay”. Why do I have so many freckles ? Dad didn’t, mom either I think, not on her face anyway, and Sam… Sam’s skin is darker than mine, and perfectly smooth. Y/n must like that too.

Stop whining like a teen.

I walk to my room and sit there, trying to ignore the voices in my head saying Y/n likes my brother. Does he like her too ?

I take my headphones and turn the music on loud, closing my eyes, too bad for the headache, the silence is worse anyway.

I’m in Hell, tied up like Alastair used to chain me, but I’m not hurt. Sam enters and points his finger at me.

“You will never be as good as me” he says. “Dad was better, I am better, and the woman you love ?” His laugh is terrifying, evil.

He puts his finger on my stomach and pushes it harder and harder on me, until it hurts.

Until it hurts a lot.

“You’re soft” he says, covering my whines of pain, that come out with my child voice now. “Dad was right, you’re too soft. Your heart is soft, your body too. You couldn’t say no to Alastair, like you can’t say no to a burger” his finger is so strong, like metal, and it feels like it is going to go through my skin and muscles any moment. “You have no self-control. You’re pathetic, Dean… Dean ? Dean.”

I gasp, half sitting when I open my eyes.

“Sorry” Y/n says, and I look up to find her next to my bed, her hands up in a peace gesture.

“You’re back ?” I ask, still slightly panting.

The sight of her worried face makes my heart slow, and I notice she’s wearing that comfy pajama of hers, the very loose t-shirt draping lazily from her body, embracing her sweet curves.

“I got tired of running” she smiles kindly, finally plunging her hands in her sweatpants pockets.

I grunt and look at my watch, I have been sleeping a few hours, and I think the hangover is gone.

“I came to ask you if you were hungry and… You didn’t seem well” she nibbles at her lips. “Sorry if I scared you.”

I rub my eyes and give her a weak smile.

“You didn’t” I state. “I’m super hungry, yeah.”

I am. When I drink like that, I often skip diner.

I get up and grunt, rubbing my eyes. I thank her, walk to the kitchen with her and sit at the table in a sigh.

“So” she says with that radiant smile on her face. “I was thinking of making burgers. I know I don’t cook them as good as you, but !”

She turns around and shows me her phone screen, moving it too much in her enthusiasm for me to see anything. I chuckle and grab her wrist to still it, enjoying the softness of her skin under my fingers. On the phone, a recipe. “The best burger possible”, with descriptions of how to make the onions crispy, and to make the best sauce…

“Maybe I will finally make burgers as good as yours or close” she states, taking her hand back to read the recipe.

“You know you’re cute ?” I state, but I can’t give her the tender expression I intend to, as my dream comes back to me.

Maybe I should learn to say no to a burger.

“Not as much as your sleepy head” she chants.

“You know…” I clear my throat. “Maybe for once, we should eat what you like and not my greasy crap, like Sam says.”

She stops and turns to me with a pan in her hand and a surprised look.

“But” she pouts. “Me like burger.”

I look down, trying to think of something to say, she actually looks a little disappointed. She was so proud of what she had found… That woman is like a ray of sun.

When I’m about to tell her that I would love to taste her burger, regretting having made her beautiful smile fade, she puts her phone on the table before me and starts looking in the fridge.

“I get it Dean.”

“Really ?”

“Too much alcohol, your grandpa stomach is fragile” she chuckles and I wonder how she seem to never show real hurt, annoyance or disappointment at anything I say. "Okay, you asked for it, I prepare the same for you as I do for Sam and me."

“Yeah…” I mumble.

My eyes fall on her phone and my heart flutters. She forgot to lock it, and it’s the first time I see her wallpaper picture. It’s us. Just me and her. I remember that day.

It was last summer, we were hunting a Wendigo that attacked campers, and had to camp ourselves in the wood for a night to find it. It was a beautiful night. When the photo was taken, I was telling a story, standing with a large smile on my face and a beer in my hand. Y/n came close, I don't remember why, and she wrapped her arms around me, holding my waist with her head on my shoulder.

The picture really looks like we were a couple. She's staring up at me while I tell the story, her face inches away from mine. Behind us, that beautiful lake and a part of her blue tent. I don't remember who took this photo, and I think this moment must have been very short, or I would remember it. Maybe she just came that close to tell me something in the ear, maybe it was one of those quick hugs she gives me when I say something sad or mention being hurt.

Why would she have that on her screen ? Before I can think of it further, her phone locks by itself and becomes black.

I look up, her back is still on me, she's cutting something. With a discreet finger, I touch her phone, trying to make the photo appear again but her lock screen makes me sigh.

Sam, of course Sam. It's a selfie they took together, simple and cute, both looking at the phone my brother is holding.

"I'm afraid you'll still be hungry after th-" she turns around and her eyes fall on my finger on her phone. "But if you are, there is pie" she states, taking her phone to put it in the back pocket of her jeans.

Like she needed to hide something, like she was embarrassed that I saw that Sam is on her screen.

She arranges her salad or whatever she's making, puts a plate in front of me, and two others for Sam and her.

"Sam !" she calls and I look down at the plate.

I must say my it is pretty, all colorful. I recognize avocado, tomatoes... But as pretty as it is, it doesn't make me hungry, rabbit food never does.

"Oh wow, Dean is grounded or something ?" my brother chuckles, entering the kitchen.

"Leave him alone" she answers before I can make a comment. "His stomach is still upset."

Sam gives me suspicious look, I never ate this kind of veggie plate in my life, if my stomach is really upset, I wait an hour, and the second it's better, I fill it with beef jerky.

I can see my brother is waiting for me to make a comment, complain. But when I don't, he just shrugs and starts eating, talking to her about something I don't listen to. I take a piece of avocado with my fork and when I look up to her, she's staring at me, her beautiful eyes searching my face.

"You can change your mind Deanie. I can still make bacon" she smiles.

"N-no really I'm okay" I state, eating a green thing without enthusiasm.

"Oh wow" Sam sneers. "Dean says no to bacon !"

I swallow the lump in my throat and feel my cheek redden despite my effort to be as stern as possible. I don't need his smart words, and I don't need to see them being so perfect with each other. Getting up, I put the fork down.

"You know Sam, I actually can say no from time to time."

Leaving the room, I rub my face.

Reader's Pov

I stay still, my eyes on the kitchen exit where Dean just disappeared. Something is wrong, really wrong.

I have seen Dean sad, grumpy and pushing people away, but this is new.

"I should go check on him after diner" Sam says. "He obviously have something on his mind."

"Yeah..."

My phone buzzes, it's him.

Hey Sweetheart, I'm sorry for leaving without eating what you prepared. Please tell Sam to not check on me. I'm going to bed, I'm just tired.

Dean is never "just tired".

Okay Deanie. Don't worry for the food. Please if you need something, remember I'm right here.

Dean didn't come out of his room at all.

I waited a little in the kitchen, finishing that stupid show I had started the day before, when he was out with yet another woman. I was hoping maybe he would show up to eat something, and then I could talk to him, but he didn't.

"Y/n" Sam's voice makes me jump slightly, frowning at the too bright light. "Did you fell asleep out of bed again ?"

I look around, my laptop battery died, I don't know how long ago and I have no idea of what time it is.

My friend lets out a deep sigh, offers me his hand and closes my laptop. I get up and follow him, a new ache in my back.

"What was it this time ?" he asks opening the door to my room. "And don't say it has nothing to do with him."

I frown, close the door and sigh letting myself fall sitting on my bed.

"He didn't eat" I mutter and Sam rolls his eyes. "What ? You admitted yourself that something is off."

"Can I sit ?" he asks, taking place beside me on the bed when I nod. "Your crush for my brother, it was cute at first..."

I can see him hesitate, and I know I won't like what he has to say.

"But ?"

"But this is getting unhealthy" he looks down. "You know I love my brother, b-but I think he's not a good thing for you in the end."

My eyes get wet but I keep listening silently.

"Dean is... We all are damaged. You can't stand seeing him angry or hurt but, you know, he is most of the time. Y/n you can't keep spending your nights on wooden chairs just in case he need a freaking sandwich. You're a hunter, a warrior !"

I want to protest, it's not that simple. But nothing come out of my mouth. When tears roll on my face, he opens his arms, welcoming me against him.

I can't love Dean less, he knows that. But for the first time, he's telling me that he disagrees ; and that changes everything. Sam was always the one kindly making fun of me or taking pictures discreetly for me to stare at on my phone at night. What if he decides he has to talk to Dean ? What if he gets tired of me, his best friend ? And what if he's right ?

"You have to talk to him" he states, making my fears cut my air supply for a moment.

"I-I can't" I sob, half panicking.

"You know he really loves you..."

I let go of his arms, not really wanting to hear more but he keeps holding me.

"What are you so afraid of ?" he sighs.

Dean's Pov

I'm hungry. My stomach is gurgling and I feel a little dizzy, I need to eat, it's not like I was going to be more like Sam by starving or skipping meals anyway. I will never be like him. More like Sam is not only a muscle thing, he's also taller, smarter, better...

Coming out of my room, I rub my face, thinking of her pretty face a little shocked when I left. I should apologize.

After a very quick shower, I put on my grey robe and slippers again, walking to her room slowly.

I rarely felt that weak, after my heart failure years ago, or after a big blood loss... But hunger like that, I didn't feel it since that week dad left and I lost the food money. I was ten or eleven... I remember feeding Sammy with stolen food, and eating only the leftovers, a piece of fruit, a crust of bread... Sam was starting to realize something was odd. I was so tired...

I am so tired.

I ate eggs at lunch the day I went out, then nothing on the evening. And yesterday... Nothing either. I haven't eaten for like forty hours, not even the crusts of Sam's sandwich or three gummy bears he forgot on the nightstand this time. And I'm starting to shake.

It's enough. I will apologize, make coffee and breakfast for both of us, and ask her to come to my room to continue our "What you haven't seen that ? It's a classic !" marathon movie.

Just when I'm about to knock at her door, it opens.

Sam.

My brother comes out of her room... in the morning ; his perfect pecks showing through his t-shirt and his arms covered of superman veins.

"Dean" he says, surprised.

Then he closes the door behind him, not letting me in, and I feel my blood go down on my feet, making me dizzy.

"Give her a minute" he states, and leaves.

I stay in front of the door, looking at it like I could see through it. A minute ? What, is she still naked ? Panting ? Dirty ?... I shake my head.

I can't.

I...

She's my Y/n, how can he touch her ? How can he ? I need her, I need her for me... I can't...

My breath is short and I try to fight the crushing wave of emotions almost making me fall on my knees. Sam is better, I'm a grunt, I'm damaged, dumb, unworthy... And I'm freaking fat !

�� The door opens and Y/n bumps on my chest jumps, very surprised to find me here.

"Dean ?" she give me a well faked smile but it fades the second her eyes meet mine. "Dean... Are you okay ?"

I nod but I know the devastating hurricane raging inside of me is showing. And I'm not sure to feel my heart anymore.

"Deanie, did something happen ?"

"N-no" I state.

"Let's get breakfast" she frowns suspiciously. "I told Sammy that I wouldn't run this morning."

Why ? Are you tired ? Sore ? Did he hurt you ?

"I'm not hungry" I state.

The truth is I can't swallow anything right now.

"Not angry ?" she bites her lip. "What is it Dean ? Are you going on a hunger strike ?"

"No" I say and realize my tone is defensive.

She sighs and looks down, licking her lips, probably to taste my brother here...

"I'm worried" she whispers. "You didn't eat at all yesterday, and I know for a fact that you didn't get up for food."

"How can you be sure ?"

Her eyes are suddenly wet, and now I know what that fake smile was hiding : tears. It's enough to make me forget in a second about my own pain, about the crushing feeling on my heart.

"Because I slept in the kitchen again" she says a little coldly before walking pass me.

Reader's Pov

I have to hide my face. I can't deal with Dean telling me my love unhealthy too, or with his questions. And I can't cry before him, I wouldn't know how to explain it.

I enter the kitchen and take eggs and bacon from the fridge. Hungry or not, he will eat a little, he needs it.

Not hungry... Is he sick ?

"Y/n..." he sighs behind me, but I don't answer, breaking the delicate eggshells against the pan edge. "Why did you sleep there ?"

"I don't know" I just say. "Why aren't you eating ?"

"I eat, Y/n."

"Not lately, no. S-so now I make you a real breakfast, like you like it, with meat and fat."

"Maybe I should stop eating that..." he mumbles for himself, but I hear him and turn around.

"What ?"

His whole body language changed. He doesn't stand with that confidence and dominance he usually has. He's hurt, hurt bad. He looks tired and pale, but not only...

"What is going on between Sam and you ?" he asks, low.

"Sam ?"

I slightly shake my head in confusion.

I don't understand his question, I don't understand the pain on his face. Something happened when he went out, did someone hurt him ?

Suddenly, a smell of burn come to my nose : the eggs ! I turn and try to save them but Dean's strong wrist grabs mine, making me turn to him.

"Answer please."

His voice is more somber than angry, but his gesture is firm and he's shaking. I can see the fire raging inside of him.

"What do you mean going on ? Dean... The food" I try to turn.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT FOOD !" he suddenly yells, my heart racing and eyes wetting instantly. "I HAD ENOUGH FOOD FOR AN ENTIRE LIFE !"

His vise fingers suddenly lets go of my wrist and he takes a step back, fear on his features, like he was afraid of his own emotions. Dean is an impressive and dangerous man, but I will never be scared of him.

I wipe the tears that escaped my eyes and, on the surface calmly, turn off the fire under the burned eggs. Then I get closer to him and take his hand, way softer than he took mine a second before, under the slightly too long sleeves of his adorable robe. I decided I would be a better friend, it's my chance to be.

"If you precise your question, Deanie, I will answer. I just don't really get it" my eyes are on him, kind but firm, like I was taming a wolf.

"I..."

He doesn't manage to finish his sentence, the gearwheels of his mind visible behind his sparkling eyes. If I don't help him, he will run away, and burry it forever.

"What do you think is going on between Sam and me ?" I ask, noticing his lips are really white, even more than before. But I know he won't agree to eat right now, not until we fix what is bothering him. "Do you think, we're hiding something ?"

That would explain why he was staring at my phone yesterday. Sam and him have been deceived so often, lied to...

"Are you together ?" he cuts my thoughts. "Or is it just casual ?"

"What ? No !" I frown, letting go of his hand just a second. "Dean... Sam is my friend."

"He's perfect" he whispers.

You're perfect.

"He's amazing" I nod. "Sam is one of the best person I know..."

"He's handsome" he cuts me.

I search his face, and he nervously licks his lips. I take his hand again shyly, just the tip of his fingers. He will close again because he regrets those words. I have to answer quickly even if I'm really wondering what this is about.

"H-he is" I state. "Not really my type but he really is a beautiful man."

"You're always together... He... He slept in your bedroom" he says, taking back his hand. "You guys do what you want, but don't take me for a fool."

I take a deep breath, I won't get out of this without saying a little too much. I little of what I don't want to say. But Dean seems to need answers, and what Dean needs...

"He didn't sleep in my room, I told you I fell asleep in the kitchen. He found me, and bought me back there, tried to convince me to sleep but I was worried... and sad. Why those questions ?"

"Sad ?"

I don't want to answer now, so I continue.

"And... I spend a lot of time with him because he's my friend and..."

Being with you sometimes hurt.

He doesn't answer, and looks down at himself. Is he jealous that spend time with Sam ? We indeed used to be even closer, before my love for him started being out of control. Does he feel like that third friend the others forget a little for the fun things ?

"Dean, are you upset because I went running with Sam instead of watching movies with you yesterday ?" he looks away. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that you're not eating ?"

"I... I don't know" he sighs. "I'm a little dizzy."

"Sit Dean" I say, guiding him to the table. "Tell me what's going on with food. Please. You know I hate to see you bad."

He rubs his face with both hands, his scruff audible under his palm. How I wish I could kiss this jaw, how I wish I could show him how much I love him, how I know who he is, not like those girls.

"It's ridiculous..." he tries, but I sit facing him, and wait for him to talk. "I'm not... like Sam."

"Like Sam ?"

"You know... Abs and..." he motions his body. "All."

"Wait" I blink a few times. "Dean you're perfect."

He scoffs so bend a little to make him look at me.

How can he compare himself to his brother ? Where do that come from ? I know Dean struggles with serious self-hate, but would never have guessed it would reach that subject, of physical appearance... Maybe this is about a woman.

"Dean. You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen." My mouth starts freeing itself from truth I kept locked, and I can't stop it. "I'm serious. Your face looks like some masterpiece with perfect proportion, y-your eyes are ridiculously green, your jaw could cut glass, your lips..." my eyes fall on them and my words get lost. "You're tall and broad..."

"You're making me blush Sweetheart" he says, he voices back to its usual low hoarse tone. "Still I... You know I'm... a kid when it comes to food, I never exercise..."

"Never exercise ?" I smile. "Three days ago you climbed inside a house then dug a six feet deep hole on the ground, and the day after you chased a monster, fought him, and carried his body to a place where you can burn it... I say you deserve a burger."

His face seems to light up a little, but his pretty pillow lips are still too white.

"But it's not working out, like Sammy."

"Dean... Your brother likes it, he need it to focus, to think" my smile grows and I speak lower, I know my admiration is showing, and it honestly feels liberating. "And he needs that to keep up with you."

"He doesn't" he almost chuckles, finally warming my heart.

"Well, you're the best. It's natural for you, but we have to work, especially me."

"You two are better than me" he states.

"We're not. And... Dean not eating isn't going to make you feel better about yourself. It's going to wear you out, make you weak..."

"I know" he sighs.

"Can I make you a breakfast ? The color of your lips makes me want to draw a salt circle."

He chuckles fully this times, wrinkles appearing on the corner of his eyes.

I gently pat his shoulder as I get up, still not believing Dean could have insecurities like those. I throw away the burnt cold eggs and make some new, with bacon.

"I hear comments sometimes you know..." he says like it was easier now I'm not looking at him. "The things you said, that my face is nice..."

"More than nice" I admit, turning a little to him, but not fully to keep watching the pan.

"It happened that girls expect more under my shirt" he looks down. "I know it's ridiculous... I just, I don't know, maybe I feel disappointing."

"It's not ridiculous" I state under my breath, grabbing a plate to finally give him food. " Here, eat this, all of it."

"Like with the whole FBI look or with my seductive smile" he stops and grunts. "I feel like a teen."

"Hey, nothing like that between us, you know that. I told you about very embarrassing stuff" I reassure him. "And, what you're saying is interesting, men endure the social standards too."

"I... I don't know I didn't age like a model, I'm... soft."

Model.

"You know..." I start.

I pour two coffees and take a chocolate bar for myself, watching him before I keep talking, to make sure he starts eating.

"Delicious" he states, putting big pieces in his mouth.

"One of the reason I work out with Sammy is... Precisely because I don't want to look ridiculous next to two total models."

"Now that's" he starts, opening his mouth too big at how hot it still is. "That's kinda ridiculous. You're the prettiest girl ever !"

"I'm not" I whisper, softly blowing on my coffee.

"What ? You are Y/n" I lift my eyes on him, his lips are still a little light but shining with grease.

"I'm not like the girl you go out with."

I don't dare looking up, but see he stopped moving. His robe is now totally opened, the belt got loose, and my eyes are lost in the black of his shirt.

"The girls I go out with" he repeats. "You're way better than those girls."

"Oh listen to you, that doesn't sound cliché at all" I say a little too coldly, a shocked expression appears on his face. "I... I'm sorry."

"You know... the girls I go out with, that doesn't really mean anything."

"I know" I cut him to make him understand I'm not asking him to justify himself.

But he keeps talking anyway.

"I have been with divorced single moms, witnesses... college girls" he says the last one with something bitter and I take this occasion to make it about him again, and not me.

"Two day ago" I ask, although it's the last thing I want to talk about. "It was a college girl, Deanie ? Did something happen ?"

"Yeah... no" he states, answering my two questions. "I just... I just realize it wasn't really what I wanted, not anymore. And that it didn't... didn't really make me feel good about myself."

"Too young for you ?" I try to joke, giving him a piece of my chocolate bar, feeding him like I always do, with everything I have in my hand.

"Kinda yeah" he answers seriously. "I don't know... She... I wasn't frat boy enough for her I guess."

"Yes, that's exactly the idea, that you're not that !"

"I didn't really, you know... enjoy it" he says and I fight the images coming in waves in my head. "I was too focused on trying to prove something" a dark chuckle escapes his lips. "I don't even know who I was trying to convince. And she... She didn't like the tattoo, the scars, the freckles..."

"Whoa whoa ! Who's that bitch ?" I lift my hands in the air, sincerely shocked, I never knew some women would be able to not appreciate Dean.

He smiles kindly but looks at the bottom of his coffee.

Silence. I wish I could make him see who he is, I wish I could speak more, ask questions, but just talking about that stupid college girl that had him, but on top of that made him feel bad about himself...

"You look sad again" he cuts my thoughts.

"Sad ?"

"Yeah, it happens often. You start thinking deeply and you get sad" he says. "Listen... You're the most amazing friend, and woman, there is..."

"But" I whisper, echoing the conversation with Sam in my head.

"There's no 'but'" he shakes his head. "I was just going to say that I want to be a better friend, and man, for you."

"You already are the best" I smile but he doesn't smile back at all, his green eyes searching mine.

"I'm not. I let you down several times. I get why you would rely on Sammy more. I left you at this bar after that hunt when that witness was hitting on me. And I cancelled movie night twice to go out, just to feel... I don't know desired, loved maybe ? I know how absurd it is" When I'm about to talk, he doesn't let me. "And I worry you... coming home drunk as fuck in the morning." He rolls his eyes a little. "And with Baby..."

"I'm not your mom, I have to stop being so protective, Sam is right..."

"Sam ?"

That's it, the moment I say so much I regret it my whole life. But I promised my best friend I wouldn't go on like this, that I would either talk to Dean, like he wants me to, or at list try to work on my feelings to move on. It's time to stop hiding everything from the man I love and make our friendship pure again.

"Sam says..." I clear my throat. "That... I have to care a little less about you, to care a little more about me" I don't dare looking up and let out a dark chuckle. "Won't be easy... I care a lot about you."

When he doesn't answer, I finally look up, fearing what I will see on his face. He's just staring at me with an expression I never really saw on his face. His gorgeous lips are pink again, and the scruff on his cheeks, a little darker than usual, highlights the radiant light of his big beautiful eyes.

He half gets up, bending on the table. And before I can realize what's happening, he puts his lips on mine in a soft, warm kiss.

My whole body responds to it. The thin hair on my arms stick up, my heart starts beating my chest and my thighs get moist with a thin layer of sweat.

I stay frozen for a second, looking at him in disbelief, playing the quick kiss again and again in my head as he sits back.

"I just..." he clears his throat and sigh, getting up. "I'm not Sammy."

Before he can leave, before this moment becomes a memory I will struggle to think as real, before I find myself in that hole of secrets again, I get up. But he's already walking to his room.

"Dean !" I run after him, meeting him at his bedroom door. "Dean. You're not Sammy. You're you, you're perfect in every ways."

My heart is pounding. Let's do this, he needs this. Dean needs to be loved and I didn't know he needed reassurance. No one can to this better than me, because I worship him. I always said I wanted to show Dean he can be happy, and loved without changing his life for good. This is my shot at it, I may not be enough, I may not be what he wants or needs, but at least I can share with him. My devotion, my love, my body, all he wants.

And If my heart breaks, let it be a happy sacrifice.

"Your freckles are like stars in a summer sky" he frowns when my fingers come up to graze his cheek. "I already liked freckles but yours... You make any other skin look plain and boring."

His face is so close, the delicious smell of his skin reaching me. His pupils are large, just circled with that green that could make me cry.

"Your lips..." I say a little lower, looking at them intensely.

From here, I can see the few freckles that made their way on them. Then I see his tongue, slowly wetting them before he bends again, catching my lips softly, his nose bumping mine when he opens his mouth to capture my upper lip, once, twice...

I open my mouth and wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss with a shameless hunger, and all my love in it. Something blows up inside of me, something strong : need.

Dean's Pov

No drunk groans, and no shame anywhere. I kiss her like it was words, and take her inside my room.

"Your smell" she says and I feel emotions rush in every one of my veins, but it's not disturbing like it usually is. "I could bath in it, live it."

I bend to burry my face in her neck, inhaling deeply.

And I take my time, I have no reason to hurry, nowhere to go, no woman to come back to. She slips her fingers between the strands of my hair, letting me hold her close, drowning in her smell.

I want to cry, and I don't really know why. Probably because of how right this feels. Because of that relief : She not with my brother. She is not with Sam...

"Dean..." she whispers, her nails gently grazing my scalp. "Can I see you ?"

I put a kiss on her neck and murmur a tender 'yes' against it.

Her hands leave my hair to go down along my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and push my robe, making it fall like a cape at my feet. That’s how she makes me feel, like her hero.

Her chin goes up without me leaving her neck, and she gently rubs her cheek on my jaw. In a soft moan, I open my mouth to leave wet kisses on her skin.

Maybe she can be mine...

"Sometimes your voice makes me shiver" she whispers in my ear. "Just your voice... It's so deep."

Somehow her words send electricity to my crotch and I can feel my boxers getting tighter.

My hands grab her ass, pressing her against me and when she moans, I feel my cock twitch.

"Y/n..."

"You're beautiful in everything" she continues, her hands slipping under my shirt to stroke my back, her voice slightly weaken by arousal. "But when you wear henleys or just a t-shirt..." she kisses just below my ear. "I can get wet by just looking at you."

My cock twitches and I groan.

"Are you wet now, Baby ?"

She nods and I let go of her ass to cup her face, kissing her like I always dreamed of, deeply and hungrily, not caring of being in control of myself, not caring if I seem desperate.

She starts to walk, making me take a few steps back until my calf hit the edge of the bed and I sit on it. I tug at her shirt to make her straddle me, but she takes a second to take off her shorts, revealing her beautiful thighs, and her white panties.

When she finally straddles me, spreading her legs, I spot a wet stain on her panties and a low growl leaves my chest.

"Fuck... You are..." I say, my hand coming down to cup her sex through it, feeling the tip of my finger get wet.

Her body immediately contracts, and, with my middle finger pressed against her entrance, I can even feel her walls clench around nothing.

"How can you be so reactive" I groan.

"It's you..." she moans, rolling her hips just a little to feel my hands more. "Dean... No men can do this to me."

My other hand comes up to take that worn out black shirt she stole with impatience, because I notices she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

"Oh baby..." I let out, bending to kiss her breasts, my other hand teasing her more.

I'm burning up, my back sweating, my cock painfully hard. I don't remember being that turned on in my life by so little. She hasn't even touched me yet.

Her head falls back and her nipples point at me, begging me to suck at them, so that's what I do. Mouth open, I take one in my mouth, along with the most of her soft breast I can.

"Ah..." she moans and squirms above me. "Dean !"

My cock twitches at just hearing my name like that, my real name on top of that.

I slip my hand in her panties, desperate to hear more, feel more. She's soaked, her thighs contracted and her hips rolling against my hand. She doesn't form words, but her body is begging for more.

So I slip a finger inside her and feel her squeeze him, hear her gasps. I can't wait to be inside of her but that's not my only purpose... Oh God when she will clench around me ! I’m panting now.

"Please Dean" she whines, one of her hand going behind her to find balance on my knee, her beautiful body arching back.

I give her what she needs, another finger, pumping slowly at first, then going a little stronger, and my thumb on her clit, gently circling. I look at her with my mouth open in awe, a devouring pleasure making me high.

"Fuck" I pant.

I should try to focus, make that coil inside me calm, make my heart slow. I don't want to be aroused like a teen, or I won't last at all... But I can't, and my free hand comes on my crotch to touch myself through my boxers a little, desperate for some friction.

"Dean ! Dean..." she cried out, now joining the movement of my fingers with her whole body. "I need..."

"Come for me" I order. "Show me how much you want me Baby, clench those fingers."

And just like that, she does.

Her whole body shakes and her thighs crush me, her walls trying to milk my finger for what they can't give her.

"DEAN DEAN DEAN !"

My cock twitches so hard it's painful, I bend on her chest to not see her face longer, and try to hold back as hard as I can.

"Baby... fuck..." I whine, my whole stomach contracting and my cock pulsating.

But when she grabs my head to hold it against her and start rolling her hips hard to prolong her powerful orgasm, I can't hold back...

In a very loud frustrated grunt I come in my pants, feeling my cum drip along my twitching cock.

Reader's Pov

My bliss makes me high, but my senses are at their full power, so I can feel what’s happening. I can feel Dean squirm beneath me and shake, I can feel his hand unable to move and hear his gasps.

He’s coming.

My walls clench even more at the thought and he whimpers against my breasts. So I hold him, I just hold him.

When I finally can have the control of my body again, I look down at him and he withdraws his fingers slowly.

“Y/n…” he whispers. “Fuck I…”

“Did you came ?” I ask with the largest smile I ever had on my face.

“I… yeah… I’m…”

He seems embarrassed.

“Dean, that’s the sexiest thing I have ever experienced” I assure him, bending to kiss his lips. “No one ever wanted me that bad.”

“I still want you” he states, his hands stroking my back and going down on my ass. “I… I think you’re all I want actually.”

My eyes get wet. In my head : every single moment in my life that made me fall in love with Dean, every day, every moment I craved for a touch, for his smell, every time he laughed and cried… Everything.

“Then you have me Dean, you can have me forever if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, I do” he says, taking off his shirt.

With a large smile I push him back on the bed, letting him drag both of us higher on it. I look down at him, and a tear falls on his chest. His hand comes up to wipe my cheek, we don’t need to talk for a moment.

My hands go down his sides, enjoying his firm chest and the soft line of his stomach, my thumbs massaging it a little on their way up, feeling the strong muscles underneath and the silky-smooth skin.

I bend to kiss his collarbones, and his tattoo, palms still roaming everywhere like I always dreamed of, like I will always dream of.

“This tattoo” I say, drawing its contour with my finger. “It’s so you, it has a story, and it protects you. I love it.”

“And I love you” he states without a hesitation, his chin almost on his neck to see me.

A tiny emotional sob escapes my lips, making him frown a little and wrap his strong arms around me.

“Hey baby…” he whispers. “Y/n…”

My hand goes down to push his underwear down, and my panties to the side. He searches my eyes while I do, and licks his lips in a moan when I grab his cock to guide it at my entrance.

“I love you” I say, slowly sinking down on him. “I love you, I love you…”

FEEDBACK IS WHAT MAKES ME WRITE

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685 notes · View notes

rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

Canon hankcon, "birthday" for the prompt, and that's all I'm giving you lmao. Whose birthday? Party or no acknowledgement? Homemade cake with haphazard candles or storebought fancy pants cake? How many birthday kisses from Sumo? I dunno you tell me.

//:3

It wasn’t any particular news that Hank didn’t enjoy his birthday much anymore. It might have been the grief but he had a hard time remembering a time before Cole when he did. It was old news to everyone it seemed except Connor who was waiting by his desk the morning of with a box in his hands. “Connor, what is that?” He asked as he moved to sit at his desk. “It’s a birthday present Hank.” Connor set the small box on his desk, “Isn’t it a human custom to celebrate them?” Hank bit off the annoyed sigh and reminded himself that Connor didn’t know better, “Most people do. When you’re young making it another year is kind of a big deal, but when you get to my age its just a reminder of how many opportunities you’ve missed.” Connor fell onto red for a moment and Hank regretted his words, “Do you want me to take it back?” His LED flickered as he did something in that head of his. “No.” Hank shook his head, “I appreciate it Connor, it was just a surprise. I’m not used to people caring after I spent years asking them not to.” Connor narrowed his eyes as he moved to sit as his desk, “I know now, so it won’t happen again.” This time Hank sighed, “Connor, its okay, I promise.” Connor still didn’t believe him from the looks of it, and Hank hated that he was right. He knew Connor meant well, but they were dancing around an unknown something and every time Connor would do something like this it reminded Hank that the android could do so much better. When he finally climbed out of his own head Hank noticed Connor had gotten to work. His LED was yellow which meant he was thinking about something too, but Hank didn’t have the nerve to ask. He looked down at the small precisely wrapped box and what it was that Connor had decided was worth getting him.

He opened the box as quietly as he could, he didn’t want to pull Connor out of his focus, the brunette hated that. The last thing he expected was concert tickets, they were rested on top of a neatly folded t-shirt. The tickets were for a holographic performance by Frank Sinatra. He set them aside and took out the t-shirt and found it was a signed Knight of The Black Death shirt, it was from one of their older tours and had only been up for bid. He didn’t know how Connor had found it or how much he had paid for it but he knew neither of them had been cheap. “Connor.” He said firmly. Connor came back to himself and tilted his head in question, “You know birthday gifts are supposed to be simple right?” “Yes.” Connor responded, “But they are also supposed to be something you enjoy, and I figured that this would have been better than simple. Jazz is something I know you enjoy, I would have done Knights of The Black Death but they aren’t currently touring.” “So you bought two tickets to one of the best jazz clubs in Detroit and won a bit on an auction only shirt.” Hank remarked. “Yes, I figured you could take a friend with you.” Connor continued, “I figured you would have more fun that way, the shirt took a while to get, but that’s the perk of not needing sleep.” Hank bit back a groan and found himself smiling nonetheless. He didn’t deserve this kind of effort and certainly not from Connor. Not to mention that Connor had seemed to greatly over estimate the number of friends he had. Other than Connor and possibly Jeff he really didn’t know who would want join him. According to the date on the tickets he had until that evening to decide.

He tucked the tickets back into the box and did what he could to focus on his work. His mind kept tracking back to how much thought Connor had put into this, some stupid day of the year to commemorate the mistake that was his life. That Connor had found their friendship for lack of a better word worth burning a few paychecks on. It baffled him. On some level he understood that not many people viewed him in the same light he viewed himself, but the fact that Connor of all people saw him as worth this much effort never failed to knock him off kilter. The day was thankfully slow, his head wasn’t in the right place for case work as it was, he wouldn’t have been able to handle a live one. He was pulled back to attention when Connor began to pack up his things for the day. Hank still needed to talk to him about the jazz club. God, how long had it been since he had asked someone on a date? Could this really even be considered a date if Connor was the one that bought the tickets? “Your vitals say you are distressed Hank. Is there something I can do to help?” Connor was standing with his blazer over his arm, it was a charcoal grey number he had picked out to replace the branded one. “Ah no. I was just thinking too much.” He said, here went nothing he supposed, “Would you like to go with me tonight? To the jazz club?” He didn’t miss the small smile that flashed across Connor’s features before he replied, “I would love too.” Hank nodded as relief crashed over him, “Think you could be ready by eight thirty?” “Of course.” Connor agreed, “I’ll see you then Hank.” He gave a polite wave before he turned to leave. Hank was grinning at his monitor like a damn fool.

He got home with just around two hours to get ready and realized he had nothing to wear that would hold a candle to how Connor would probably wind up looking. He dressed sharply despite being a plain clothes detective so it was certain he would be dressed to the nines for this too. He dug through his closet like a damn teenager looking for something that would fit and look nice. He needed to shower as well but that could wait until after he found something to wear that would be presentable. He decided on black jeans at the very least because he couldn’t be paid to wear slacks even for a maybe date. Then it was on to looking for a shirt which took longer than he would have liked. He eventually settled for a dark teal button down that he didn’t remember ever buying but was thankful to have nonetheless. The shower came next since he did have time, and after that it was just a matter of getting himself to look presentable. He shaved figuring it was time the beard went anyway and then tied his hair back in a half ponytail to keep it out of his face. He debated his glasses for a long moment before he put them on, he technically needed them all the time but he only used them at home to give his eyes a break. Satisfied with the way he looked, he fed Sumo, grabbed his leather jacket, and headed for the car. If he was lucky he would only be a little late to pick up Connor. Hank was not in anyway ready for the way Connor was dressed. He had changed his hair to loose curls and an undercut. He was in a maroon button down under a grey suit vest with black slacks. He was absent of a tie and the first couple buttons of the shirt were undone, and he looked nervous. When he saw Hank his LED rolled yellow and blinked a few times and Hank could have sworn it was red for one of them, but just as quick as it happened it was back to blue. His smile was back in place as he walked to the car.

“You clean up nicely Hank.” Connor said with what Hank was going to take a as a friendly smile because if he looked too much into how Connor had looked at him he was going to combust, “The glasses are a nice touch.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Only you would find not being able to see attractive.” Connor let out a sound that was distinctly inhuman but still very clearly flustered, “I didn’t- that’s not- its-” He sighed, “That’s not to say that I don’t find you attractive normally.” There was a long stretch of silence after that then Connor seemed to realize what he had said and his LED strobed red. The car was alight with his very clear distress, “Could we maybe pretend that I didn’t just say that.” Hank chuckled lightly, “Of course. It will be just like it never happened.” Of course Hank planned to keep the memory for himself. It confirmed that he hadn’t been imagining whatever this unspoken thing was between them. It was unfortunate that it seemed that for now it would stay unspoken. At least he knew glasses at the very least were the key to getting under Connor’s skin. Maybe he could wear them to the station every once in a while. “For what it’s worth Con, you clean up pretty nice as well.” Hank remarked earning another smile from Connor. “I was worried I might be over dressed.” Connor admitted, “I’ve never been to one of these places before so I wasn’t sure what the dress code was.” Hank shook his head as he pulled into the parking lot, “You look just fine, I promise. If anything, I might be a little underdressed.”

“I think you look nice.” Connor said almost under his breath. Hank didn’t know if it was meant for him to hear, but he responded anyway, “Thanks.” He doesn’t get anymore response than Connor’s index finger cutting into his line of sight, “There’s a parking space four spaces up and to the left.” Hank hummed his acknowledgement and pulled into the space once they got to it. He checked to be sure he had the tickets and then got out. Connor followed suit. They were close enough to bump shoulders as they walked to the doors and Hank couldn’t stop the smile on his lips even if he had been paid. It might not have been a date officially, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like it. There was just something in the air that made it feel that way. After they were admitted Connor took his hand and lead him to a corner table with a clear view of the stage. They were early, there was still about twenty minutes before the opening act so the good tables were almost full. Like the parking space Hank chalked it up to Connor’s keen observation, he always was a few steps ahead of Hank it seemed. “Is this alright?” Connor asked his voice was void of its usual confidence. “Its perfect Connor.” Hank reassured, “There’s nothing to be worried about.” “You seemed upset with this idea earlier.” Connor said without looking at him. He was turned in a way that Hank couldn’t see his LED, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” “Hey.” Hank said sharply which caused Connor to look at him and like Hank had suspected his LED was on red, “I was just surprised. Its been... quite a while since someone had put that much thought into a gift. I love it Connor, and if I’m honest I’m still trying to convince myself that this all is real.”

Connor’s LED flickered and Hank knew he was being scanned. Under any other circumstance he would have found it frustrating but he got the feeling Connor was just as out of his depth as Hank was. He needed to know that Hank was being honest and Hank could give him that much. He apparently found what he was looking for because he smiled. “Then I suppose its a good thing I did.” Connor said after a moment, “Someone has to remind you that you matter.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Damn Connor, usually you buy a man a drink before you get to the sweet talking.” It was a deflection and a poor one at that if the way Connor narrowed his eyes was anything to go by, “Hank.” “Right, no self deprecating comments.” Hank grumbled, “Do they even have android friendly drinks here. I probably should have thought about that sooner.” “They do, don’t worry.” Connor informed, “But even then, tonight isn’t about me.” Hank’s response was cut off by Connor narrowing his eyes once again, “How about we order a couple of drinks before the show starts.” Connor smiled, “That sounds nice.” Hank took his jacket off and rested it on the table to mark it as taken. Connor stood as well and they headed to the bar together. They were bumping shoulders again and Hank was tempted to take his hand again, but he didn’t. When Connor had taken his hand it was so they wouldn’t get separated by the crowd had settled down for the most part in anticipation for the show. Connor stepped up to the bar to order, “Could we get an Old Fashioned and a Thirium Sunset please?”

Hank wasn’t nearly as surprised that Connor knew what he liked to drink as he was at the fact that he had ordered an alcoholic drink for himself, or at least the android equivalent. The bartender seemed surprised as well but got to work on both drinks. “I didn’t know you drank.” Hank found himself saying. “I don’t usually.” Connor admitted, “But its not very gentlemanly to let your date drink alone.” Hank blue screened at that, he was relatively certain Connor meant it as a turn of phrase but he still hung on the word. Connor was smiling, he seemed glad to catch Hank off guard. The night after that passed in a haze of good music and better and conversation. Hank still had to drive so he stopped after two drinks, but the more Connor had the closer he moved and by the end of the night Connor’s usual perception of personal space was little more than a myth. Hank found he didn’t mind. When it came time to leave Connor’s balance was off so Hank put on of his arms over his shoulder and half packed Connor out of the jazz club. Connor tried his best to walk so it wasn’t as much dragging him as he thought it would be. “You have like, really pretty eyes.” Connor said out of the blue when they were nearly to the car, “They are very expressive.” Hank laughed, “Thank you Con.” He found himself wondering if androids could suffer from hangovers but he found himself sympathetic just in case. He got Connor in the car and belted in which wasn’t all that much of a feat, it seemed the cold air had helped him recover some. He was quiet on the way home, and if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes were roaming around the car Hank would have believed him to be in stasis.

“I think I’m back to normal now.” Connor said as Hank pulled into his complex, “Sorry about that.” Hank just chuckled, “Everyone gets that way when they find a drink they like. On top of that I’m pretty sure its your first time drinking. Getting like that is basically a right of passage.” “I could have at least picked a day other than your birthday to get like this.” Connor sighed as he looked down. Hank found a place to park and reached out to ruffle Connor’s hair, “It was nice to see you let loose for once. Tonight was nice.” Connor smiled, “I’m glad then.” If Hank were to be asked about this, he planned to blame it on his drinks, even if he and Connor both knew it was a lie. It was an out both of them could take if they decided this was a mistake, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning in. The kiss he gave Connor was chaste and not much more than a brush of lips. The one Connor chased it with was the exact opposite and Hank found himself breathless when Connor pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow Lieutenant.” He said with a wink as he got out, “Happy Birthday.” Hank watched him walk into the building still waiting for his brain to come back online. Of all the ways he expected tonight to end, this was not one of them. Happy Birthday indeed.

@irrelevantbutfabulous

(Prompt from this list)

#Canonverse 'short'#Hankcon #Hannor #dbh hank #dbh connor #dbh fic #dbh #140 Follower Ask Event!#ask panda #panda has all the answers!

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