#I had a little this winter and it was so scary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uncouth-the-fifth · 1 year

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click - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Reader (circa season 1) Tags/Warnings: cabin-in-the-woods moment, fluffy bestie banter, virgin reader, first time sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, and of course, Sam is a pussy god, as per usual. Word Count: ~20k (shhhh don't talk about it i have a problem) Notes: that's right, i make moodboards now bitches. these photos were collaged by my wonderful commissionee @daffodil-mania, who asked for: ""a reverse (you are a) natural, baby? where sam is the reader’s first time + a smutty cabin in the woods-type situation." Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

“Okay, okay,” you thought out loud, thinking hard, “my turn—if you could have anyone as a dinner guest, alive or dead, who’d you pick?”

A few paces ahead of you, Sam hummed in thought. His puffy winter coat made the outline of him against the swirling snow thicker, and if it was possible, taller, a menacing wall of deep blue between you and the woods. Something hiding out here and spying could even mistake Sam for something scary. Luckily, you weren’t that stupid.

Sam, for the millionth time in the last minute, checked that you were where you were supposed to be. (Two immediate steps behind him. Or he’d die). Looking back at you made the wind mess up his hair every time, and every time Sam tucked the same two strands behind his ears again. Like the shy girls in rom-coms did. Truly, monsters trembled at the sight of him.

He geeked at your question, but managed to play it cool: “Gandhi. Feel like he could teach me something. We’d probably like the same food, too, so it’d make for a good dinner.”

“Oh yeah, he was a vegetarian, right? You two could have a nerdy little salad together.”

Under the soft swell of the wind, you thought you heard Sam laugh, but it picked up in loud gusts at times that swirled skirts of untethered snow around your ankles. Well, your knees. The snow was tall enough here to seep into your boots. You’d given up totally on finding your own footing and started walking in Sam’s tracks, which were wider than yours almost all the way around. You told yourself that this was to confuse anyone tracking your prints in the snow, but really it was just fun to compare your shoe size to Sam’s. This set the walk back to the cabin at a snail’s pace. But with the way this conversation was going, you didn’t exactly mind freezing your ass off.

John had left his boys yet another unfinished hunt to distract them. Sam and Dean, tired of being distracted, changed tactics and split up. Dean was following a lead in Montana that could actually take him to John, and you and Sam were tying up John’s loose ends in upper Washington. The two of you had spent the last three days researching bloody disappearances in the area. An area in the thick of its snowiest, blurriest season, mind you, miles from anything but one of the Winchesters’ off-the-grid apocalypse shelters. This wasn’t how you and your mother had operated when you’d hunted together, but. Things changed. Parents disappeared.

Sam seemed to be shoving himself through John’s absence as best he could. You got smiles out of him here and there, but especially today, playing question games to pass the time mapping the woods and putting down traps.

“Gandhi was a fruitarian,” Sam clarified. He shielded his face from the snow by hiding in his collar, so you may have misheard when he added, “So, yeah. Him or my mom.”

Months ago, a mention of Sam’s mom would’ve shocked you into a full-on coma. He kept her memory even closer to his chest than Dean did, in some ways, and either brother even sneezing in the direction of their storied past had been a once-in-a-lifetime event. Before this hunt, that is. Now you couldn’t get Sam to shut up. Either the isolation had made him lonely or something else had pushed him to trust you, because the last two days had been spent this way—trudging through snow and spilling your guts about everything under the sun together. Sam loved to read and watch documentaries, he was fascinated by astronomy and meteorology and organized crime history and Native American folklore, and, hey, big surprise, reading. You’d never heard him talk about anything with so much passion. You hadn’t heard that passion in your own voice since before you’d lost your mom.

Still. As comfortable as you suddenly felt with Sam, you were sure to tread lightly. You risked a glimpse at his broad, snow-dusted back. “Mary would be nice too. Maybe you’d get to try some family recipe she’d make or something.”

“I think I remember my dad tellin’ me once that she hated cooking, actually, but m’ not sure,” Sam said, a bit of humor in his voice.

You thought of the soup Sam had turned to lava over the wood stove that morning, and grinned, “Yeah, I think you got that from her.”

Keeping casual eyes on your feet, you tried to see how fast you could get your boot through each foothold in the snow. Sam would make deep gouges in the powder with his longer strides. Crunch-crunch, crunch-crunch. You’d clear them three in a row, sometimes four, then stop short a step behind Sam and wait for him to make more tracks. Like hopscotch, almost. Every once in a while a huge gust of wind would force Sam to stop, and without a word he’d form a wall between you and the blast. You’d learned pretty much everything there was to know about Sam these last few days, but out of all his best dorky qualities his chivalry was your favorite.

“S’ not that I hate cookin’, I just suck attit.”

And the accent. The accent was gold, when the pretty drawl of it crept through with Sam’s boredom.

A little further and the spindly, snow-heavy trees parted for the lake you and Sam had been using to navigate. On your first day scouting you’d noticed how the icy surface had frozen like a misshapen heart, and since then Sam followed the point of it back to your cabin every night. Southeast of it was the abandoned mining facility that’d swallowed three people whole, and to its far right was where three more had disappeared. Your guess was a couple of territorial tree nymphs or werewolves, and Sam was betting on a Winter Hunger. The loser would take the first shift driving down to Montana.

Seeing the lake, Sam starts to arc your march around the edge, his sharp eyes on the treeline across the ice. The wind was stronger with room to run over the lake, but you reminded yourself that being a little cold was the gentlest way to die out here and forged ahead. Besides, most of your body had gone stark numb miles back. When you remembered how bad your cheeks were stinging, you’d bring your scarf tighter around your face and watch Sam, his long legs cutting easily through the snow.

The wind cooled down to a whisper. You reminded him, “Your turn.”

You’d reached a point where coming up with good questions had become harder than answering them, so Sam took a bit to stew on something good. There’d been a silent agreement on who was responsible for which kinds of asks. You would probe Sam with the deepest, most personal shit you could come up with, and after he explained what his life’s accomplishment was and what friendship means to him, Sam would go, uhhhh, what’s your favorite color? He was definitely the smartest shovel in the Winchester shed.

“How about this,” Sam cleared his throat. “Would you ever wanna be famous?”

You must’ve made a noise that gave away your surprise at the quality of his question, because he made a snooty sound back that had you seriously considering shoving him in the snow. You put your hands on his shoulders and everything, but where there should’ve been normal guy shoulders there were buff guy shoulders, which wouldn’t budge an inch. Sigh. What a lousy, muscly jackass.

Sam planted his feet, whining your name. “C’mon. Answer.”

“I’m thinking!” You laughed, and pushed with your legs until Sam tilted forward into his next step. It took a moment for you to keep your hands to yourself. “Okay. In this hypothetical world, what am I famous for?”

“Supermodel,” Sam answered right away.

You splashed a little snow at his jeans, deciding to save your funny feelings about his answer for later self-reflection. “Dude. Be realistic.”

At this, Sam snickered, and even with him facing forward you could imagine the dry sloping smile pressing into his dimples. “Okay—across the whole entire world, you’re famous for cooking the perfect soup in a can. Like, in ways no one can even imagine, that’s how good. You make millions of dollars off it and become a household name. Would you want that?”

“God, no,” you wuffed out, immediately sending Sam into a fit of giggles. “Are you kidding me? All those strangers knowing me, not giving me any privacy? And don’t even get me started on all those soup-hounds throwing themselves at me for my soup-money.”

“I guess that’s true. You could never marry for love, 'cause everybody would just want your soup,” Sam mourned. Another great Sam quality: he was excellent at going along with a bit. “You’d just have to live with brief soup-flings for the rest of your life.”

You thought about what a soup-fling could entail for all of one second, then burst out laughing, warm clouds of it spiraling into the air through your breath. The shoulders of Sam’s coat shook with glee. It was funny for a few more beats until it warmed into something that was light and airy, something you hadn’t heard from Sam since you’d met him. He had the sweetest laugh. It made your damn teeth rot.

“Y’know, speaking of flings,” you hollered over the hissing wind, “I have no idea how your brother does that shit.”

Dean was safe and familiar territory; he was the centerpiece of everything you had in common with Sam, so your conversation circled back to him plenty. Every conversation you’d had with Dean orbited around Sam some way, too, so you’d come to expect it. You’d never seen two brothers care about each other as much as they did. Which was hilarious, since the moment one of them got you alone all they did was bitch. Dean’s been driving me up the damn wall. Sam keeps stickin’ his nose in my business. Neither of them had ever had a trusted third set of eyes before, or at least one who understood that their complaints were overshadowed with love. John had been someone to look up to, to emulate and impress, but you were a fresh outlet available for family baggage. The boys were your outlet for bitching too, since it was understood that your bitching also came from the heart.

“A girl in every port sounds fun in theory, but I feel like I’d get sick of it fast,” you confessed.

The snow underfoot began to crunch harder with each step, packed down into a firm sheet. Soon Sam’s prints were so shallow that you could see the tips of your boots again. Taking the chance while you had it, you fought against the snow to walk side-by-side with him, then fought again to match him stride-for-stride. Sam’s poor face had been pounded with so much snow that his bangs were soaking wet, but he still managed a half-frozen smile seeing you next to him.

“And, I dunno. I think I care about hurting people’s feelings too much to just…” you gestured stiffly, “head to the next town after sharing a night with someone.”

“Same here,” Sam sighed, then gave a very subtle cough as a sign to shift gears: “But, uh, I think it’s kinda a stress relief thing for him.”

You probably should’ve guessed that Sam wasn’t the fling type, since you’d been there every time he’d shied away from Dean’s plans to pick up girls, but the idea… sat there. Staring at you. It’d be stupid-easy for Sam to live that lifestyle. Dean had his own notions about what girls were most into (bad boys, leather jackets, you know), but you happened to be certified in what girls were into, and you had it on good authority that Sam was a total dreamboat.

You nudged Sam with your shoulder, coaxing him open with a well-placed smile. This was unearthed territory. “Not your thing, huh?”

The snow had pinkened Sam’s face enough as it was, so what he was capable of on his own was downright impressive. Even his ears went red. “Uhh,” he chuckled, too skittish to look you in the eye. “No, not really. I’m. I, uh, I’d rather get to know her first, y’know. Before we’re intimate. And hopping towns doesn’t exactly give you the time to do that.”

Yup. Total dreamboat.

“Oh, so that’s your plan, asking me all these personal questions.”

Sam controlled his sputtering by pressing his lips into a firm, flat line, which refused to indulge your silly flirting. “You’re a jackass,” he said, and the growing smile in his voice betrayed just how little he thought that was true.

When you were done laughing at your own joke, Sam guessed, “So that’s not your thing, either? One night stands?”

You were having fun—pulling Sam’s leg, for one, but also talking to him in general, so the truth glides right out of your mouth.

“Wouldn’t know. I’ve never had sex.”

Sam had left his filter two states behind on the drive up, so he doesn’t even think to cap his disbelief. He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

His mortification with himself makes contact two beats later, and while you’re smirking and floating unbothered across the snow, Sam nearly goes belly-up falling over himself to apologize.

You soak up his groveling until Sam’s embarrassment hits a breaking point, then, in your humblest and kindest princess voice, you say, “It’s cool, Sam. No worries. I’m not at all offended you think it’s weird I’m a virgin.”

“I don—I-I don’t think it’s weird,” Sam stressed, going a little wild in the eyes. “It’s great! …I mean, not like, great, I just mean. It’s not a bad thing or anything.”

You meet his awkward silence with a smug, pleased one of your own. Sam’s smart enough to realize he’s stumbled into your trap, but not quick enough to find an escape, so he sputters for a long time and falls back on his third option.

“I’m just wondering,” he winces, knowing his question is stupid, “why are you still a virgin?” You’re about to laugh in his face, but the earnestness in Sam’s voice makes you hesitate. His question is a genuine one. “...That sounds awful, m’ sorry. But, c’mon. You’re smart enough to know how pretty you are. Charmin’ enough to use it, too. I mean, I’d…”

He caught himself. “—Anyone, would, uh…”

Sam didn’t finish his thought. He changed his grip on the shotgun swinging from his hand, self-conscious, and cleared his throat.

Well. That wasn’t obvious at all. No way in hell you were leaving that alone.

“You’d what?”

Sam didn’t say anything. He just tucked his hair behind his ears again, too shy to say what he was thinking but bold enough to let it be spoken in his silence instead. And it was a very, very telling silence.

Your brain scrambled to cram as much as possible into the blank Sam had left. There was so much potential in that one little word. I’d…

I’d understand if someone wanted to have sex with you.

I’d have found someone by now, if I were you.

I’d have sex with you.

I’d take that opportunity, ______, if I could.

Hm. Okay. Okay, huh. There weren’t a lot of people in the world capable of making you question your life decisions so quickly, but of course, this was Sam. His silence persevered. Your train of thought became an internal trainwreck.

A few opportunities had cropped up over the course of your life—third dates with guys that hadn’t totally sucked, a few handsome barflies—but nothing had… clicked. Because there was supposed to be a click, right? Before sex? Some compass in your body, moving you in a certain direction? You hoped to drift toward something that fit better than a stranger, but like Sam had said, that level of commitment wouldn’t be waiting for you out on the road. You could hook up with civilians or hunters as you pleased, but just the thought made your chest ache. Real connection wouldn’t be waiting for you in the back of a truck or a sleazy motel. Hunters lived short lives, sure, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be a hopeless romantic.

You’d held onto that notion for a long time. Someday, something would click, and it’d be worth the damn wait.

Now, Sam was here, blinking coyly at you through his bangs, keeping you close to him, listening when you spoke. Click, goes your brain. Like a gear notching into place. He has those mossy, sensitive eyes that pry right open just for you and the prettiest rasp to his voice. Click click.

“C’mon,” Sam coughs. “Cabin’s just ahead.”

I’d… Sam had said, and left you to fill in the blanks.

The next day, both of you were proven wrong. You found out the hard way that the disappearances weren’t caused by cannibalistic spirits or werewolves. After getting mauled by living hills of snow and almost swallowed by an avalanche, you and Sam got the very subtle and not-at-all-lethal impression that you were dealing with an insane case of cursed ground. (Cur-sed, Sam had said, because he was fancy.) It took some on-the-spot ritual work and a day’s worth of walking to bury hex bags in the right spots, but by dusk you were alive and comfortable back in the cabin.

“I say we stick around for one more night—make sure this place is clean,” Sam suggested, shaking himself out on the welcome mat. When he shucked his coat off, the silky interior and the back of his shirt were dark with melted snow.

You glanced between Sam, who was blue at the edges, and the shifting tides of flakes on the wind outside. If you stared long enough the whole mountainside seemed to come alive in the dark.

“Uh,” you told him, “are you sure? If we got even one of those spells wrong, what’s stopping this thing from burying the whole cabin?”

But Sam had already thought of that, like he’d already thought of everything else. He rose from where he’d been kicking off his boots to give your icy hands a quick, warming squeeze. “I got it covered. Go—get a fire started, and fast.”

Since you were still riding the wave of adrenaline that’d kept you alive against moving, living forces of nature, you were already following Sam’s orders before he’d finished saying them. He didn’t act hardly as hurried. Being soaked and half-frozen was apparently second nature to him, since he navigated uninhibited through the duffle of ingredients you’d unloaded on the cabin’s floor. Your fingers were so numb that it took three tries to scrape some fire out of your matches, and by then Sam was already tying off his millionth hexbag of the day.

You didn’t regain your senses until a few minutes later, which passed as slow as hours did. Somehow in that sliver of time you’d hauled more firewood inside, hurried it into the fireplace, lit it, helped Sam bury the protection spells around the yard, raced back inside, and laid all your wet clothes out in front of the hearth. The second the doors were locked, your high started to tank. Sam was talking.

“—will last us through til’ tomorrow. Then, in the morning, we can use the spell to see if the land is purified. It might even be a good idea to check with the dowsing rods, too. If this ground is as cursed as we think, the hexbags will be just fine, though, so you don’t have to worry. You listenin’?”

Sam was a big, fuzzy-edged shape sitting criss-cross on the ratty rug a few paces from the fire. His silhouette was outlined by it in handsome shades of gold and honey-white, ‘cause of course he was the kind of movie beautiful that suited romantic fire lighting. Like, really romantic. Your brain had been baking in the panicked sludge of fleeing and hunting all day, but even it was capable of looking at that image of Sam and going, Uh, yeah. There’s something going on here.

For the last few days, the two of you had purified the ground of the cabin, too. It was the most telling relic of Sam and Dean’s life with John Winchester: rationed, unglamorous, and harsh. John was usually an out-of-bounds subject for the boys, but Sam had spent the last few days describing him at length. He was paranoid and obsessive—hence the cabin’s military rations, hidden weapons, traps, metric fucktons of salt, and next to nothing else. John hated any music and technology post-1980—hence the cabin’s record player. It was the only source of entertainment on hand, and the same three records only lasted so long. Even as hunter’s hovels went, this one was impressively oppressive.

Sam, plagued by abysmal hunter-kid memories of being stuck out here, had warned you about it ahead of time. You’ll get bored and miserable. He’d said that and you’d thought to yourself how hard it would be to get bored and miserable around Sam, who mystified you just sitting there. Still, you splurged on some big fluffy blankets, the shittiest and cheapest chess set you could find, pillows, and s’mores. Not exactly the John Winchester essentials, but. Just in case.

Stuffing the footwell of Sam’s stolen truck with cozy bullshit had been worth it in the end, purely because you wouldn’t wish the sleeping situation in the cabin on your worst enemy. There was a single, boxspring-less bed crammed in the bedroom’s corner, with a blanket too pitiful to put into words. It only had one pillow. This pillow also happened to be of unknown origin and age, and you were only brave enough to touch it because you’d worn your big girl pants that day. Sam had banked on the two sleeping bags he and Dean had left there as kids, but they were unfortunately still kid-sized. The two of you would’ve been forced to share body heat under one petal-thin blanket. Now, loaded up with massive, fuzzy comforters and heavy quilts, the two of you were happily sharing body heat under enough blankets to drown in.

Sam had insisted on making a bed for himself on the floor the first night. You’d let him, purely because he was pouring on the chivalry by the truckload and you were too grateful to know what to say. Any plans to argue were pinned down by that stern, unguarded stare. S’okay, I’ve been sleepin’ like this since I was little. Just a few minutes sinking into your snug nest made you rot with guilt. Being on the road with the boys put you in a bed with Sam plenty of times, and though the quarters were a bit tighter in the cabin, the cold was sharper too. You confessed your guilt to Sam the next day, and after the usual research marathon that night you felt his weight fill the untouched side of the bed.

Okay, Sam had caved. But—you’re sleeping on the inside, by the wall. I’m a lighter sleeper. That way if somethin’ comes in, I can protect you.

Hearing that, you’d grabbed his wrist and pulled it over your side. You’d kept one hand fisted around the knife under your pillow and the other folded over Sam’s hand, as if to say, I can protect you, too. Sam must’ve understood, because he’d pressed his cheek against your shoulder blade and succumbed to sleep. The rest of the week was spent like that, Sam herding you against one side of the slim bed with his legs and his arms and his sleepy-soft breaths. Though the bed was toasty and the contact was a one-stop sleeping pill, you stayed up with your knife for company. Sam deserved to feel safe while he slept.

You didn’t get that often as a hunter. Especially the touching part. Touching of any kind only really happened when you trusted someone, and trust was earned on the road with all the ease and painlessness of pulling teeth. In Sam’s case, he was an untapped well for little doses of affection. The moment that line was crossed, the second you’d taken a hit in his place for the first time, the second you’d torn your own clothes to wrap his wounds, Sam was open to you. He would never reach for your hand first (not if he was still Sam, who thought he didn’t deserve it), but you could reach for his and he would take it without question. You could pull his arm around you and Sam would wrap it tight, pressing his nose into your back. There was an exchange that occurred. He trusted you to give him something he was too proud to ask for and you trusted him to let you in, the two of you careful not to break the magic.

While he poked at the fire and lit candles, you flitted to the other room to scoop up a blanket to wrap yourself up in. The constant back-and-forth insanity of the day had made you too nauseous to eat, but you knew your stomach needed something. Preferably something sweet to trick you into feeling rewarded. Military rations really weren’t your thing, so you opted for the pomegranate Sam had avoided to keep his research papers clean.

He’d been going through your plan for tomorrow, right. “I’m listening, Sammy.”

When you circled back to join him on the rug, you opened up an arm of your blanket-cape for him. Sam, without comment, ducked under it, and you shuffled around for a minute to give his broader shoulders some fabric to work with. “All we can do for now is wait,” he told you, “so… whaddya wanna do?”

You put a bowl down in front of you and started splitting the pomegranate with your knife. “Chess again?”

Sam’s lip slanted in a frown. All his energy for smart stuff had been spent on the hunt today, so you weren’t all that surprised at his reluctance.

“Cards, then?” You guessed. Beads of rich red fruit started to fill your bowl, which Sam didn’t hesitate to sneak a hand into.

“There’s only so many rounds of Go Fish a guy can handle losing, _____,” Sam teased.

It was true. You’d obliterated him every round so far, the poor bastard.

Sam leaned into your side, filling your peripherals with his know-it-all smirk. “Unless you—”

“We’re done playing poker,” you said, having suffered your fair share playing against him. The emptiness of your wallet must’ve reflected in your voice, since Sam started snickering into his lap—and yeah, maybe the whole cute-shy-guy routine had worked on you, but knowing Sam he’d find a way to sneak the money he’d won out of you back into your bag. He was sweet that way. Evil, but sweet.

“Okay,” Sam wet his lips and wracked his brain. “...I could read my book to you. It’s the one I was telling you about—”

“—with the corrupt cops in L.A,” you filled in. Separating the pomegranate seeds from their core was bloody work with your knife, so when the natural halves of it were happily in the bowl you picked the rest apart with purple-stained fingers.

“Uh-huh. And we’re at a part I think you’d find pretty interesting, all the crazy trial stuff.” Sam shrunk into his shoulders a little bit, then added in a quiet voice, “If you, y’know. If you want.”

Hmm. You swiped the book from Sam’s other hand, the planes of his fingers making brief, electric contact with yours. A sharp flash of heat whipped through your belly, sizzling through your nerves. It took a bit for you to refocus, but the pause made you look like you were some deep scholarly person really inspecting the back cover, which Sam seemed to appreciate. You took care not to get any fruit stains on the pages. When you turned to pass it back to him, Sam was rubbing his bruised knuckles into his sleepier eyes. How he could keep reading after staring at nothing but old newspapers all week, you had no clue.

You reeled the book back toward you. “...How about I read it to you?”

Sam froze, considering this. He considered it so long that you could watch his cheeks color in real-time, the same red they’d been in the snow, until he broke out of his trance and managed a warm, surprised sort of smile.

“Okay,” Sam melted.

“C’mere, lawboy,” you decided on a whim, and pat the top of your thigh. True to form, Sam took his permission and ran with it, twisting shyly to lay on his side and prop his cheek on your leg. “Lemme impress you with all the big words I know how to say.”

Sam chuckled, and it was the kind of laugh that told you just how many weird law words were about to trip you up. It was also the kind of laugh you could feel, rumbly and real through your leg, which was. It was. It was something. He got comfortable, curling a lazy arm around your knee and using you as a proper pillow.

You really should’ve put more thought into having Sam this close. Like, really should’ve, since he’s so big and warm that it has you running on nothing but instinct, and your first impulse having Sam in your lap is to go straight for that gorgeous hair.

You take the lock Sam’s been messing with all day and tuck it behind his ear, just because his head is there and you need a damn place for your hand to rest. Right. A deep and draining sigh airs out of Sam’s nose being touched like that, and you start to wonder if this was something he’d masterminded. He seeps into your lap like he’d been chasing this all day, all week, and something about it makes you feel special in ways no one else could manage.

You open to the page Sam left off on and start to read. Sam doesn’t move an inch, laying statue-still in your lap. He only moves to sneak pinches of pomegranate seeds. Stiff as he is, he’s there, the furnace you’ve relied on for the last few days to keep warm. You get through a few chapters this way, Sam pausing you every ten seconds to explain something or hum or snootily translate some lawyer-speak for you. The whole time you do an excellent job of keeping your hands to yourself. Ever since Sam’s comment from yesterday, the little pieces you’ve gotten of him have made you greedy. Click.

The fire and the candlelight create a perfect bubble of heat on the otherwise icy floor, so it doesn’t take long for Sam to go from resting in your lap to downright oozing across it. From your point of view he’s nothing but a mop of shining hair and a big hand curled around your knee. His presence seeps into you as much as his warmth does, and after so long it’s almost overwhelming to taste someone else’s vulnerability this way. Click click. You’re reminded of how much you care about Sam, and how long it’s been since you’ve been allowed that. There was something about him that would always be worth protecting. Maybe it was how fucking good he smelled.

“Doctor Janen’s contributions to the investigation, especially her knowledge of luminol, were,” you trailed off, “were…”

Sam’s breathing had evened out in your lap. Or, you thought it had, until his posture shifted under the sweater he was wearing. He rolled out of your lap and onto his hands with a reluctant groan. Tired as he was, Sam was always capable of being a smartass. “D’you know what luminol is?”

“Yes, detective,” you scoffed, maybe a teensy bit disappointed that he’d left your lap. The outline of his touch on your thigh burned like a heat beacon. “Should I go back and read the last few paragraphs, or was that you just pretending to sleep?”

Sam rubbed at his face, like it was possible to physically scrub the sleep from it. He sat up next to you, blinking slowly to get his bearings, and for no logical reason your heartbeat built to an ear-ringing throb in your chest. You were completely alone with him. For once, you had Sam all to yourself. Soft shadows kissed his arms and hands and neck. He was made up of nothing but full endless sloping lines, a charcoal sketch come to life.

“I was restin’ my eyes,” he sassed. “We should stay sharp through tonight, though. Stay up. I can take the first shift, since you’ve taken the last three.”

You didn’t miss the little nod to your sleeping habits. Which meant Sam had also laid awake long enough to know you hadn’t fallen asleep until late, which meant he’d laid awake next to you. In bed. Thinking with that big brain of his. It made your own big brain run around in crazy circles, chasing whatever conclusions he might come to.

You stole a glance at the nearest window. The salt lines were laid neatly on its sil, on the off chance boarding up the glass turned out to be useless. “That’s okay. I’m not exactly tired yet.”

Sam popped a few pomegranate seeds into his mouth, humming in thought. “Then it’d probably be smartest to keep each other up.”

“Samuel!” You gasped. He froze mid-chew, confused, and remained confused until you started poking him and laughing. “I’d expect a line like that from your brother, but never from you.”

You were a tease-first-ask-questions-later kind of person, so you understood Sam’s particular brand of banter and how he liked to respond to yours. Typically, you’d annoy him with a playful little taunt and Sam would let you know you were funny by calling you a jackass. You waited for Sam to hear your line and brush you off as an idiot. Instead, he did something much more interesting: he got defensive.

“I meant stay up like, like talking,” he sputtered. “I would never—y’know. I wouldn’t. Do, uh. Do that. Why don’t we keep up our question game from before? It’s, it’s your turn, right?”

“Okay. What was your first time like?”

Well. Shit.

This was the fastest question that either one of you had managed to whip out all week, and that fact hung so obviously in the air that you could feel it between you and Sam on the floor. It dropped so hard in the middle of the conversation that it shut you both up, silencing Sam’s sputtering and veering your train of thought to a shrieking, sparking halt. Sam was smart. His big brain would put together—had probably already put together—that you’d thought about asking him this. He might even be smart enough to intuit why you’d been itching to bring this subject back up, and for the first time in your life you prayed that Sam was the dumbest, most thick-headed man to ever hunt with you.

He did a great impression of someone less clever than himself. “Like. The first time I…?”

You chewed a few pomegranate seeds. “Uh-huh.”

“...Right.” Sam registered. He conveniently decided to fixate on the fire instead of you, which should’ve helped your sanity, if that was even possible anymore. The bulb of his nose and the swell of his lip curved just perfectly in profile, made even prettier by the firelight. God.

You panicked. “If that makes you uncomfortable—”

Sam swallowed. “No, no. You’re okay. Just thinking.”

You bit down on your tongue. Oh, awesome. Thinking! Exactly what I want you to be doing right now!

Sam swiped two sweaty, corded hands down each of his thighs. Tucked his hair behind his ears. Made your belly flutter and twist like a huge gust of wind going through a spring-fresh tree.

“I was seventeen,” Sam cleared his throat. “We were in Utah—well, I was in Utah, Dad and Dean were… Whatever. But I was sort of, um, on this rebellious streak at the time.”

You lazed back on your hands. “So, in hunter-kid terms, counting the days til’ you’re eighteen and packing your rucksack?”

An abrupt laugh barked out of Sam. His gaze loitered on your face with renewed comfort, remembering, again, that you’d both hidden your acceptance letters where no parent could see them. This was another Sam-move you knew the steps to.

“Yeah,” his eyes glittered. “Exactly.”

(The day you met Sam, the one reference you’d made to your associate’s degree had him crossing his legs under the table. He’d asked in a husky, tight voice what you’d gone to school for. Just hearing the words folklore and mythology had the guy close to pitching a tent.)

Sam managed to take his eyes off you. “But, uhm. There was this girl at school my Dad had ordered me not to hang around, so… I hung around. After a school dance. In her car.”

You were a very mature adult who was not at all jealous of a teenage Utahn, and thus sculpted your face into something playful. “Dirty,” you snickered. Sam’s light smile was encouraging, so you said as an afterthought, “Sounds like a squeeze, though. Don’t know if I’d want my first time to be in a car.”

“Especially in a tiny, cramped Nissan,” he agreed, chuckling. The smidgen of regret in his voice shouldn’t have made you feel like you’d earned a point against Random Utah Girl, but it did. You scolded yourself for it (your imaginary point gripped in one fist).

It was now Sam’s turn to ask a question, and he asked it fast. Impressively fast. “Okay, so. No car. Where would you want your first time to happen, then?”

Though you were an absolute animal when it came to Go Fish, your empty wallet was proof enough that you were a lousy poker player—due to an even lousier poker face. Hearing Sam’s question, it did you no favors. Even before you’d formed any thoughts about… everything, your body knew its answer, pointing every delicate nerve in your body toward the open doorway to the cabin’s bedroom.

You flicked a glance at the warm, intimate darkness waiting for you there.

It was only a second. But that one look was enough. Your hand was exposed, and Sam, by comparison, was an excellent poker player.

In a rush, you scrambled to put some distance between yourself and your obviousness. You winced. No way out. “Uhh, anywhere cozy. For the first time, I dunno if I’d wanna be cramped in a closet or something, no matter how sexy it may be. Is it lame to say… a bed?”

Sam hummed. As you’d talked, he’d become more and more relaxed in front of the fire, lounging on a propped-up arm and picking out of the fruit bowl. There was a long silence from him that could’ve been the weighted silence before a judge’s verdict.

…You’d never seen a judge draw his hand up to his mouth, suck pomegranate juice from the pads of his fingers, then pull off them with a noisy pop, but. But maybe they took a different approach at Stanford.

“It’s the standard for a reason, right?” Sam shrugged, amused.

He pushed the bowl across the floor with his wrist instead of his spit-slick fingers. It made a hollow scraping sound that brought your head back to the conversation, thank god, since the last seconds of your life post-fingers-to-mouth action had been spent elsewhere. The specific “elsewhere” that entailed Sam’s thick-knuckled fingers and Sam’s pretty pink mouth. You’d had the occasional intrusive thought about men creep up on you before, but the tricky part was that those thoughts pushed their way in. They jolted into your life then jolted back out.

Single-handed, Sam had hooked you, reeled you in, and pulled you “elsewhere.” Keyword: pulled. Not pushed.

…Then… maybe… pulled you again. And pushed you back. And again. Pulled out, then pushed in. Pulllled out slow, only to ssssink back in, deeper than before. Pulling and pushing with rhythm. Pulling, pushing, faster, deeper. Making you gasp and yelp his name, his fingers—Sam’s fingers—digging into your waist, your belly—

Click. Click click click click click click.

“_____?”

You’re so self-conscious you think you could feel the individual atoms of your body clanging against each other. “...Uh-huh?”

It’s your turn to ask a question next. But Sam breaks the rules and speaks first, since he knows exactly what he wants to ask you. He glides up onto one hand, his whole body a twenty-page study of lanky coyness, and tilts in close to you.

“If you could lay it all out—the timing, the place, the person…” Sam’s face glittered with a poker player’s curiosity. “What would your perfect first time be like?”

Or: Give me the manual, and I’ll follow it.

Your mouth was watering. It was one of a million things making it impossible for you to speak right now, including the sudden, nigh-unbearable heat of the room under your collar, and, oh right, the metric fuckton of slick soaking your underwear. The speed at which your arousal hits you is enough to make you dizzy, and in the haze you swear you start to hear something. Click. Click. Click click click click click click click—

Fuck. Sam is waiting for an answer. Fuck.

“I guess I’ve never thought about it before.”

Which was a blatant lie, since you’d spent the last ten minutes thinking of nothing else. Sam either sensed you weren’t telling the truth or was looking for something more, because he let you linger in your own answer, prying the rest out of you with his hanging silence.

Really, you should’ve been tougher, but the first long breath without anything from him shredded your strength. You caved and filled the quiet.

“I mean,” you toyed with your hands in your lap. “No matter what, I’d want it to be special. Bein’ out on the road, marching around, that’s not really a luxury we’re allowed to have. It’s like you said yesterday. I wanna be with someone I’m connected to, and I don’t think that’s gonna be in the back of a bar or—”

“—in a stranger’s bed,” Sam softened with understanding. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” You echoed. The fire crackled and popped, loud enough that you could use the sound as an excuse to look elsewhere. “And if I happened to find that person, they’d have to be in the life. We can only trust other hunters, nowadays.”

Sam snorted. “If we’re lucky, maybe.”

It disappointed you how much you had to agree with him. There used to be a sense of mutual understanding among the hunters you’d met, but something had shifted since you were little. The world was a much scarier place, and the hunters that’d survived to see it had darkened to meet it. You’d dodged all shades of skeevy, selfish people before you’d landed in the Impala’s backseat. Even Dean and Sam had colored the list of hunters you’d been warned to avoid. Of course, every inch of it had turned out to be triple-hand gossip. Maybe you were quick to judge or the boys were just good seeds in a shitty crop, either way, ending up with them was the kind of good luck that beat the devil.

You’d never had the chance to tell Sam that before.

“I dunno. Not to go all mushy on you, but I do feel pretty lucky.”

Sam indulged you with an inviting tilt of his head, impressed that either one of you had a sliver of luck between you. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. This last year, before I joined up with you n’ Dean, there wasn’t a single living soul out there I thought was worth putting my faith in,” you said, easing your mushy confession onto him under the guise of fact. Sam couldn’t digest it any other way. “I’m really grateful you changed that for me. It feels—it feels good to trust people. To feel like somebody knows you.”

Sigh. The side of your personal bubble filled with nothing but Sam started to seep with quiet, disbelieving fondness, and you could tell because Sam was giving you the eyes. The eyes. The ones that people brought out their wallets for and sent girls like you into romantic psychosis.

You dared to face them head-on, which was a reckless idea (probably brought on by romantic psychosis). Sure enough, his gaze was big and soulful and heart-rending. Sam was sitting so close now that you could almost soak up his body heat. The biting wind wormed its way through the thin walls and the fire was fading with it, but Sam oozed magnetic warmth by comparison. Stuff-your-face-in-his-neck kind of warmth.

“Do you feel like…” Sam rasped. He brushed the flats of his knuckles down your arm, breaking that final touch barrier. “...like I really know you?”

Your entire nervous system implodes with fluttery feelings. It’s just two fingers, brushing soft down your arm through your sweater, but. It’s confirmation. It’s Sam’s yes, I want this, and it puts into perspective how the two of you have spent the last week: alone together. Curled as one shape in bed. Talking just loud enough for only the other to hear, and never an octave higher. Never more than a few feet apart. If you reached for Sam first you knew he’d accept your hand, your boots in his bootprints, but when he coasts his palm down the swell of your shoulder it’s him reaching out for you.

You reach right back. You curl a hand up to cover his hand with yours, those big doe eyes asking that same question on repeat. Do you think I know you? Do you trust me? Do you want this?

“All I’ve got is me, you, and Dean. And it wasn’t him that I told all my deepest hopes and shittiest moments to,” you laughed. “So…”

Every other time you’ve hit this point, you’d been distracted by the logistics and the math of sex—protection, chemistry, the when and how, and the consequences of both. It’s not gonna hit you until two days after this moment, after Sam has you as many times as you want in the plush cabin bed, that there was no math with him. Just want. Just things sliding into place. Click click click.

“So…” Sam’s face tips even closer. Your head fogs with the heat and smell and presence of him, mesmerized.

He puts it all together for the two of you: “Your perfect first time would be with a hunter, somebody in the life that you trust. Somebody who could make you feel special. Somebody who really knows you.”

You smirk before you can stop yourself. “Do I need to drop any more hints, Sam?”

Damn, could that boy put a fireworks show to shame. He lit up. Sam’s shoulders did this really cute boyish swell and his lips parted, telegraphing with every piece of himself, Oh, you really want this, you really want me!

You’d never seen him wear that kind of happiness before, and it made sense why. Thank god the two of you were off the grid out here, because you didn’t doubt that Sam’s smile could pop every lightbulb in the entire country.

Sam aimed a bubbly laugh at his lap, embarrassed. “I don’t think I’m getting the full picture,” he tried to flirt, “a few more, maybe?”

So, getting less and less subtle as you went on, you explained to Sam the hypothetical author of the night of your life. He’d be sweet. Polite. Smart, too, but not the type to rub it in your face. (This made Sam laugh). He’d be gentle and considerate and frankly fucking awesome, but not so shy that he couldn’t give you a wild time.

When he was blushing so hard you stopped needing the fire for warmth, you sprinkled one last handful of flattery on him. “And, jesus,” you whistled, “this guy I’m picturing? Total dreamboat. So pretty it makes me wanna write dumb songs about him.”

Predictably, Sam got so flustered that he went back to futzing with that same strand of hair by his ear. With the touch barrier between you broken, your mind buzzed with a million different ways to reach out and feel him, to draw him in, and all those ideas coalesced seeing Sam’s hand come up to his cheek. Before you lost your resolve, you stroked the messiest portion of his bangs behind his ear for him. Sam melted. He liked to do that around you.

“Now I’d just sound arrogant if I assumed that it’s me,” Sam snorted.

You pressed the flats of your knuckles down Sam’s warm, smooth cheek. “It’s you. It’s been you for a while, actually.”

The easy, loving contact dazed him. Sam’s eyes fluttered closed, and a short, shaky breath puffed out of him in one bracing go. It was clear that he hadn’t been touched this way in a while. He sat there absorbing your touch for a long time, a cat resting his head in the full scope of your palm. You turned your body to face his and Sam’s gaze, which was layer after layer of hazels no artist could mimic, opened for you.

You thought about saying something cheesy like, wow, ain’t I lucky, having the whole world in the palm of my hand, but Sam was much faster (and much, much cheesier).

A leather-tough hand scooped around the back of your neck. The touch was fucking-christ-big and god, so was he, the line of his thumb to his wristbone as long as the length of your neck. You knew this because that’s exactly where Sam placed it, stroking your chin with his thumb. Prickling chills tickled up your legs. He scrutinized you—and you say scrutinize loosely, since the Sam-equivalent was gazing into your face like a fatal decision was held there. Your mental yes, yes, I want you was so loud that Sam could’ve psychically heard it. If he did, it was enough to make his pupils become huge pools of want.

“C’mere,” Sam grinned.

You laughed. “M’ practically nose to nose with you, Sam, I don’t have any further to—”

The rest of your teasing was lost to a louder yelp. Sam scooped his arms around your middle and. And hauled you. Into his lap.

His—lap.

There was no way to survive this landing. You were plopped right on top of his barrel-wide thighs, your every sense instantly stuffed full to bursting with every wonderful thing that made Sam himself. A steam of woody body wash and aftershave put you under his spell. Two massive hands soothing down your back glued you happily in place. Sam’s warm chuckles seeped through his chest and into your hands, because, oh yeah, you were allowed to touch him. And there was so much of him to touch now, too. The entire front of your body was cozily smushed up against his firm, longer frame, filling your hazy vision with the soft shadows on his throat and collarbones and those fucking dimples. What the fuck.

“Is this okay?” Sam asked you.

The only time you’d been permitted in another person’s space like this was to hug them. Overwhelmed with choice—you could kiss him, touch him, run your fingers through his hair this close—you defaulted to what you knew. Sam hesitated, but with a breath, the coil of his body unwound and the two of you slid together with a satisfying smush. (Or maybe a click).

Oh my god that’s good, your senses wailed, but all you could manage with your face muffled in his neck was, “Warm. Sooo warm, Sammy.”

“Is that a yes?” He hoped.

You pulled your face out of his shirt to sigh. “The biggest yes of your life.”

Sam gleamed. Being so close to the source of all happiness on earth (the toothy grin he was biting back for your benefit) should’ve instantly pulverized you and every other hot-blooded being on this side of the planet. It should’ve. But your soul was still ringing around in your feeble body, and sure enough, your calves were still snug around Sam’s thighs like they’d been before. You’d survived being inches away from Sam’s face while he smiled all shy for you, and succeeded in feeling only a teeny bit like a pile of smoking ash because of it. For a second you tricked yourself into thinking you could survive him.

That is not the case.

With impeccable timing, Sam kisses you. Just a brief, firm peck on the mouth. Testing the waters. The waters that are now a fucking ocean in your underwear, thank you very much. It’s only a two-second kiss, but the instant Sam’s lips pop off of yours an embarrassing happy squeal follows him out. Definitely not the suave reaction you were expecting from yourself. Sam just laughs, which translates as a sexy hum under your free hand.

“That was cute,” he whispers, eyes crinkling.

“Shut up, Sam.”

He hums, still brimming with that big spoiled grin. He takes you by your prickling arms and starts to pull his hands down them, again and again, squeezing the anxiety out of you in huge handsy swaths. You feel a bit better about being such a nervous wreck. His hands are trembling too.

The first kiss was good. Really good. Wetter, warmer than you were expecting, but so fucking—good. His mouth was soft and stained by the pomegranate, but, oh no, you’re already forgetting what it was like to taste him. It’s so tempting… to just… lean in…

He’s just as tempted. Sam meets you in the middle for a second kiss that he finds so satisfying, so right that this deep rumbling moan purrs right out of him. The pink swell of his lips are, of course, pressed hot to yours, filling you head to fucking toe with that single bassy note. You gasp through your nose—because nothing is worth breaking his kiss. Not a desperate breath of air, not an uttered word.

Sam kisses you with his hands as much as he dazzles you with his mouth, laying heavy touches down your back, then your waist, then your legs, inspecting and absorbing. You’re hardly as methodical. He is a wonderful beach and it’s your first time seeing the ocean. You take the biggest fistfuls of him that you can, feeling the silky sand of him slip between your greedy fingers.

Sam is apparently into being your metaphorical beach, since after he’s done melting your brain and your underwear in the most intense make-out session of your life, he pulls away to speak.

Sam rasps. “Can I take care of you?”

It takes you a moment to respond, because. Well. A, that’s the sexiest way someone has asked to have sex with you, no contest, and B, you’ve been waiting this whole time for the moment where you don’t want this anymore. With other men, your body had just never found the spark that should’ve been there. Was this time different? Had things click click clicked into place?

You take a step back to put this in perspective for your future self. As vividly as you’re able, you think about having sex with Sam. You visualize Sam’s sharp eyes, his naked back, the cut of his hips, all of it, as he fucks you straight through the shitty mattress in the cabin’s bedroom. All the sweat-twisted blankets shoved to the floor. Sam’s hips canting your thighs apart. The worn-smooth slope of his—of his fucking paws, essentially, squeezing your tits and your tummy and your waist in achy handfuls. You think about it some more. How Sam would moan, how his lashes would screw shut in ecstasy as he filled you. You keep thinking about it. When your mind starts to deviate toward the filthy, thick sound of him… o-of Sam plunging into you over and over again, smushing you under his weight… uhm. Uh.

Yeah. Yeah, this is everything you fuckin’ want.

It takes conscious effort for you to close your gaping mouth, then pry it open again to blurt: “Please, yes.”

A tiny piece of his posture relaxed in relief. Sam smushed a cute, giddy peck into your cheek, reminding your entire tingling nervous system that there was a really sweet guy underneath the deadly-efficient hunter you knew.

“Okay,” he beamed, and shyly tipped his head toward the bedroom. “Shall we?”

You feel like you should be doing more than being demure and nodding a lot, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind. After you climb out of his lap and find your footing on your jellified legs, he unfolds off the floor like bucks do, knowing on instinct how to conduct the body he has so much of. The fire’s sleepy and weak in the hearth, and with it dead, Sam is the new center of heat in the room. He takes your hand and just touching the middle of his palm spurs shivery warmth down your legs. Now, you’re all too aware of Sam’s proportions—how encompassing his hand feels, how easily his shoulders fill the doorway to the little bedroom. Feeling mature, you fill the next room with bright giggles. You see in real-time how Sam melts at the noise.

Like you have the last few nights, you each scoop up a candle and find a place for it amidst the hunter clutter. It takes a beat to find your way through the dark. The space is just big enough for the slim bed pushed snug into the corner, and already you know from experience how you and Sam fit into the nest of blankets and pillows. (Hint: extremely well).

Sam uses his candle to light a few others on the bedside table, keeping a free hand stretched toward you to reserve his spot as your only hand-holder. You drop your candle on the dresser and consider the only thing next to it while you wait for him. The Winchesters had three vinyls total for their ancient record player, and seeing it unused and wasted in front of you, you have a stroke of romantic genius.

The second you drop the needle on the first jazz record and turn back toward the cozy, honey-lit room, Sam’s there, sliding into your open arms to plant a kiss on you. And another. And another. And another, coaxing little happy sighs from you. They’re such deep kisses that you dip back with each one, until the curve of Sam’s towering body is diagonal over you and you have to clutch his shoulders to stay standing. Both of his rough-sawn hands cup the scoop of your back to support you. All your daydreaming about him had convinced you that he’d be a head-to-toe brick wall, but Sam’s teddy-bear soft instead, the gleaming skin you have access to yielding and plush. His lips most of all, puffy pink and shining.

Sam persists, pressing closer, kissing you deeper, panting under his breath. Whatever it is about the happy sounds you make wake up something dark in him. There’s a tight, delicate rhythm he likes to follow, and the more of Sam you get the less of it you see. That straight-arrow persona is there, and then—poof! Sam’s tongue is laving wet and hot and perfect across your parted lips, ruining your underwear in one fell swoop.

He tilts in to start sucking on your tongue—

“Fuck, Sam,” you choke out.

The situation in your panties graduates to unbearable levels. If you have to makeout with Sam fully clothed for even a second longer, you think your core will enter a full reactor meltdown. You try to get the words across, grabbing helplessly at his sweater and whining, but Sam interprets it as something else.

“Everything okay?” He worries.

Dazed, you nod more than you need to. With your eyes open and his face in full view, you’re hit with a spark of self-consciousness. Sam fills the bedroom with easy conviction, owning his desire in a way you’ve never really been capable of. You don’t exactly have the experience to blow his mind or anything. Why would he want this if there was so little in it for him? Sam wasn’t a selfish guy, but… To you, your eagerness starts to feel more like greediness.

You shift from foot to anxious foot, shrinking in place. “...Could you, um? Walk me through it? How we’re gonna…?” You swallowed the frog in your throat. “Sorry, that must seem stupid.”

Leave it to him to make something stupid into something ridiculously, fatally sexy.

“S’okay, don’t be embarrassed. It’d…” Sam wets his lips, looking for the words. A quiet, dirty-minded smile plays across his face. He decides, “It’d be my pleasure.”

His touch moves away from your back, and you’re about to mourn the loss of it until Sam’s hands start to play with yours, twisting them around in his own like a schoolboy. He closes the space you’ve timidly left open between you by pressing your chests together. It’s a small gesture. But this is Sam, so your face is in smolders on that alone. (…And you’d just been french kissed, to be fair).

“Okay. Uhh,” Sam fumbles. He stops to consider his approach. As in, the approach he’ll take to seducing you, as if you aren’t seduced on a level incomprehensible to humankind.

You can’t help but laugh at how much Sam-math must be happening in his head, and Sam laughs too. Sam keeps laughing, until it warms into a handsome, knowing hum, and suddenly he’s laying your hands on his belt and tickling your ear with the hot fan of his breath. You squeak, sensitive, which tempts him into breaking character.

Sam reigns it back in, then whispers.

“When you’re ready… m’ gonna get you out of these clothes.”

The deliciously big set of hands on your waist sidle up under the open strip of skin below your shirt. Just one of his fingers is brave enough to sneak up to draw circles against your tummy. It’s the slightest taste of what it’ll be like to have those hands all over you, sweat-slick skin-to-naked skin, which is just enough to make your appetite for him boil in your gut.

“And I know you’re gonna be freezin’, we both are, but I promise you’ll get real hot real soon. Cause’...”

The bulb of his nose (and the ghost of his smile) brushed your cheek, then down, and the explosive fluttery feeling already lighting up your belly pitches into a whole fireworks show.

“...The minute I see you lying all pretty on your back for me…”

Sam tips in to lay a kiss on your throat. A slow, open-mouthed kiss, suckling soft on your skin.

“...In our bed…”

Our bed, he says. That choice of words alone implies so much. If the two of you sharing it before didn’t count, then Sam was about to make it your bed.

“I’m not stopping til’ you get every single thing you want,” Sam purrs. His kisses become blatant licks, the whole of his capable tongue drawing wet lines on your throat. “Til’ you’re damn spoiled.”

What. The fuck. The universe could dissolve into mist and you would be too turned on to care, tethered to the last atoms of the earth by your hands on Sam’s belt. You gape up at him. Sam, the evil genius, smirks right back. When you’d said you wished your first time could feel special, you hadn’t exactly been planning for Sam to follow that direction to the damn letter. He makes it sound like he’s going to bend to your every whim, and knowing Sam...

You swipe at your face to check that you’re not drooling. “I’m—I-I—you’re—” while you’re sputtering, he swipes a dab of spit off the other corner of your lip. “—Suh-Sam.”

Screw it. You drop both hands on Sam’s chest and twist your fingers in his shirt, forcing the words out in choppy pieces. “I’m not as experienced as you. But I really, really… want this. To be—to be good for us. Wanna give you everything you want, too.”

Sam makes a flattered, yet sympathetic face. “Oh, baby, don’t think about me—”

“—I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Now, it’s Sam’s turn to forget how to speak. Finally.

You wind your fingers into the tuft at the back of his neck, enunciating, “How… do I make this good for you?”

“You’re already here. That’s all I need,” Sam gushes, falling back on his tender chivalrous boyfriend routine. It’s really sexy. Almost sexy enough to work. He tucks back his signature lock of unruly hair, blushing from his ears to his neck.

Well, stream-of-consciousness hasn’t failed you yet.

“Uh-uh. We’ve been alone together in this teeny cabin for a whole week. There’s no way I’m the virgin, but you’re the one without the dirty fantasies.” You take a long squinting look at him to divulge any loose secrets. Thumbing Sam’s hip through his shirt, you press, “Tell me. C’mon. You want me to blow you? Pull your hair? Or do you, I dunno—wanna bite me? Pin me down?”

You can track the second Sam starts breathing harder, but somewhere between then and now his eyes have glazed over with dangerous desire.

Sam clutched fast at his shrinking sliver of self-control. “Okay,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere. So… if it feels right, and it’s not embarrassing, it would be… I’d, I’d love it if you…”

“Got super noisy?”

After an intensely bashful pause filled with quiet music, Sam nods, hiding behind his bangs. Knew it. He always got so squirrely when you did your oh-I’m-so-cozy moan snuggling into bed at night.

Teasing him any more would definitely be poking the bull. But is it fun to poke that bull? Absolutely. Especially when Sam starts to unbuckle his belt, his whole body crawling with the urge to throw himself at you.

“Alright, I can do that. But how noisy are we talking? Like, normal enjoying myself kind of noisy, or best-sex-of-my-life noisy?”

He gets this nasty, disbelieving smile on his face, and it’s your last warning before—

Snap. Sam’s restraint splits in two. In an instant you’re captured by the underarms and Sam, who’s honest-to-god grinning/snarling about how you need ta’ be taught a lesson on leavin’ well enough alone, flings you onto the end of the bed. You land with a shriek. Then a second, louder squeal, as Sam takes your pantlegs in his fists and whips them clean off.

The next precious moments are filled with all sorts of lessons. For one thing, it takes a lot of force to tear pants off a person. By happenstance, you’re dragged a whole foot further down the bed and right against Sam’s lap. You also learn that pants are connected to underwear, so following that math, it makes sense why your panties are now royally rearranged on your hips. These two factors are too convenient to not be planned on Sam’s part. You’re reminded, again, that Sam is a genius.

You also remember that you’ve never been pantsed before. With and without the sexy context. Keeping that in mind, you, like any other person in your delicate situation, snap your legs closed on instinct. Not because you don’t want Sam there—holy shit, do you want him there—but because he happened to tickle you in the transfer from floor to bed, and you’re not about to let him pounce on you and tickle you to death.

This really works out for you in the long run, since having your legs closed means that it’s inevitable Sam will have to open them.

You’re laughing so hard that your sides have locked up with stitches. Sam pretends he’s not just as amused by kneeling up on the bed as grouchily as possible, ripping his shirt off, and… and, uhm… scooping his huge palms under your knees, and… yeah. He doesn’t have to do any pushing past that. Your legs just fall right open for him, and Sam wiggles in between them where he belongs.

Nothing in this entire world could prepare you to have Sam this close, so the idea that you could even cope with being absolutely towered over by the indecent amount of ab he possesses is fuckin’ laughable. Who the fuck let him have abs? For the health of all people attracted to men on this planet, who taught Sam to work out?

Your giggling trails off into mesmerized, panting silence.

“How noisy?” Sam scoffs, chuckling mean and deep in his chest. “How noisy? I’ll give you a hint how noisy you’re gonna be—”

He falls forward onto his hands, effectively blanketing you in a swath of flushed-smooth, freckly skin. There’s not a thought in your mind about how cold this room is in comparison to the last. Your hands smooth over the planes of his cheeks on instinct, and Sam follows the touch into a soul-shattering, full-body, toe-curling kiss that melts both your bodies into the homey center of the quilts and comforters. His nose squishes into your cheek and a long, satisfied groan bubbles out of him. He barely pulls his lips from yours when he hisses—

“...I’m gonna fuck you til’ you’re hoarse.”

What in the ever-loving fuck.

I cannot put into words how much I want you to do that, you want to say, and it’s true, since you end up making the world’s neediest gasp of glee instead. You’re not pleading up into his face for a full second before Sam gets your message. One can only guess what he’ll do next. (Hint: Sam cannot take in a full breath without kissing you first).

All week you’ve been toiling away to earn tiny pieces of the Sam puzzle. The picture you’ve built so far is, frankly, a touch-starved animal, who will wait at the heels of the first trusted person willing to provide. You kiss Sam once and he’s so damn grateful that he’ll multiply it by five. You get adventurous with your hands, squeezing and appreciating Sam’s flushed-smooth back. Because he’s Sam, returning the favor takes precedence over his beloved activity, and your kiss is forced to break so he can sit up and touch you proper.

Well. If any of this can be considered proper, that is. And if there’s one word to describe what Sam does to you with his hands, it’s improper.

“Still ready, _____?” He asks.

You bite back your inner worries and taunt him, “Been ready.”

He splays his fingers on your belly and is so transfixed by its softness that he stoops to smudge a kiss above your belly button. You do your best to pretend it doesn’t tickle, which is the opposite of what Sam wants. He gives your sides two quick pinches that have you squirming and squeaking under him, too shy to keep your eyes open. You’re embarrassed about the girly sounds he gets out of you until you risk a look at his face—plum red, dizzy, and glazed with fond desire.

Sam wasn’t kidding. He does want you at your noisiest.

This brings your horniness to a whole new level, turning the airy fluttery feeling expanding in your belly into the opposite: an emptiness, a vacuum, and one that desperately needs to be filled. Sam seems to do nothing but fill things. The doorways he stands in, the beds he kneels on, the snuggly center of your embrace. Naturally, this makes you insane. His hands fill up the most—big swaths of your belly, your shirt—your bra.

They push the band of the hunting sportsbra you’re wearing clear over your tits and out of his way. Sam rumbles in approval.

You stop your hands from twitching up around your naked chest, now hyper-aware of how much your breasts rise with your breath. Sam breathes you in. His gaze is soft beyond imagination, which makes the whittled-down shards of fear inside you seem even sillier than before. Either he reads your mind or he’d predicted you’d be mousy (and christ do you hope it’s the latter, since that means he thought about this already), because Sam plucks up your closest hand and presses it flat to his happy trail.

“Don’t be nervous,” he soothes. “Touch me too.”

The thought alone explodes you into steam. But you’re no quitter, so you roll with the invitation, stroking the soft pads of your fingers along the line from Sam’s naval to his ill-fitting jeans. He’s not flexing for you, so you get to feel him as Sam really is: butter-smooth and blanket-soft. Without his belt there’s a precious gap hanging between his hips and his waistband. It’s just big enough for your hand to fit inside.

You’re not brave enough to take that final plunge until Sam twists down to kiss your chest. His mouth burns scorching hot on your breastbone, and as he curls over your body, his hands on your belly slide up to take two needy handfuls of your tits. In the same motion you fit your hand into Sam’s jeans and squeeze and—ohhh fuck, you wind in as one, sharing a perfect bow-taut moment of hissing pleasure.

Sam pressed his face where he was kissing, deflating on top of you with a long, seeping, “Shittt.”

Okay. On top of feeling good, sex could be a fun little puzzle to put together. Sam urging his hips into your hand was one piece, and if you put it in the right place (i.e: touched him like that again), he’d be all yours. You do. You cup him through his boxers and follow what you feel, and what you feel is. Fucking. It’s. I-is it supposed to be that big? And, and holy shit, is he hard.

Sam. Sam’s big, thick dick in your hand. You’re gonna be wet for damn weeks.

Stupified, you blurt out, “Do you always get this hard?”

Sam cracks a wry grin, his eyes lidded. “Mm. It’s definitely you. Bein’ stuck out here with you.”

He drops a kiss on the seam of your ribcage. Then lower. And lower, leaving shiny wet circles along your tummy. “Makin’ me crazy… sticking by me every second, pressing yourself into me in your sleep. Lookin’ at me like—like that.” Just thinking about it made Sam shiver. “You turn me on like nothing else. Just last night, even, right here in this bed—I must’a stopped myself from rolling you over and tasting you a hundred times.”

The urge was so vivid for him that Sam’s mouth must’ve been watering, since he sucks the spit back through his teeth before he starts to kiss your belly in earnest. Just that sound burns with lust. Sam wants it, wants you so bad he’s shaking, his hands trembling under your thighs as he slithers down to lay between them. His kisses grow fiercer, open-mouthed and sucking the closer he gets to your panties. Kitten-soft moans start to sneak into the cycle of your panting.

“Don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop myself this time,” Sam husks.

You let him know just how comfortable you are with that by curling your legs around his back. Then his shoulders. Then Sam’s ears, and at that point he’s singeing spit-damp kisses inside your thighs like the world’s most faithful servant.

Nobody but him had ever touched you there. You choke out his name on short, needy breaths. It’s like you’re filling a meter. With enough please, Sams, you hit his limit, and he stops rubbing his face into your soft under-thighs long enough to hook his fingers around your waistband.

You’re treated to the Sam Winchester specialty. He bats long lashes at you over dark, sensitive eyes, and rasps, “Am I okay to…?”

You’re so horny that you start spurring Sam closer with your heels. “Fucking yes.”

This is the A+ answer. Sam doesn’t even wait to get your underwear all the way down your legs, yanking them out from under you and ducking straight below the bridge they make. Just seeing your pussy makes him swear. You’re so swollen and slick and his mouth is so close, so close, but Sam decides to taunt you, blowing across the spit cooling on your belly instead. Heat oozes in hazy lines from his body. From his hands. By comparison, the night has leeched the warmth from the room and you’re cold enough to get goosebumps.

“Please please please, Sam,” you hiccup, “need it. Need you. Need you t’ warm me up.”

“My poor girl,” Sam coos, brows drawn with playful sympathy. He starts to rub some heat back into your freezing legs, tilting closer, closer. “I know just how to help.”

You let your head flop back as you take his cheesiness in, laughing. That’s not exactly a line you’d expect from him. Before, though, you would’ve never pinned Sam as the kind of guy to clamp your knees against your chest, drop his head between your legs and fit his mouth on you, slurping noisily on your slick like he’s eating the juiciest fruit of his life—

“—f-uuuuckkk Sammy yes yes yes—”

Indescribable pleasure pops and sizzles along your weeping core. It’s so fucking—fucking yes all at once that you clap down both hands to white-knuckle the top quilt and howl. Sam sets to work. He covers your entire pussy with his mouth, swallowing you fucking whole, apparently, since you’re the most delectable thing he’s ever tasted. You have to be, with Sam groaning and cursing all fierce and hot between licks.

“Fuck. That’s it, pretty girl,” Sam coaches. He slurps loud and obscenely on your clit, swallowing down the results with a shiver of ecstasy. “Shit, just like that. You’re so good at this already. So good at taking it, ______. Never should’a made you wait.”

But all that must not count as getting a full taste of you, since Sam deviates, splaying his tongue flat and wide to rake it against you top to bottom. His tongue almost drools with liquid heat. At first you’d been disappointed you couldn’t see him over your legs, and now, you’re grateful for the mercy. Seeing Sam like that…

Sam licks you open until there’s no breath left in him. He goes until his jaw is sore and your slick is rolling off his chin in sticky rivulets, wetting the bedspread. He goes and he keeps going, worshipping your slippery-wet cunt between huffy moans.

You make a pathetic attempt at giving as good as you’re getting, but what should be a sexy zinger actually comes out as, “Sam, I-I—oh, god—Sam—!”

After that, your ability to form words joins your other higher brain functions in the endless sparkling expanse of white in your mind. Sam stirs a single long finger through your sopping folds. The stimulation alone has your hips twisting helplessly up to his face, on top of the rapid flicks of his talented tongue, but it’s the easy pressure of Sam’s thick finger filling you to the knuckle that actually earns a scream.

Not your average horror movie scream—an honest, enthusiastic, belly-deep cry that jerks in your chest like a sob.

You can pinpoint the precise moment that Sam realizes you’re a screamer; he hum-laughs to himself where he thinks you can’t hear.

“Next time,” (oh my fucking god there’s a next time), “‘won’t make you wait a minute, baby. Gonna give you everythin’ you want. I’m real sorry, darlin’, do you forgive me? Forgive me for not fucking you the second we were alone?”

You’re too busy having actual, real tears of desire cake your cheeks to string together a better answer than a moan. Holy shit.

Sam gives your pussy two deep, loving licks, each hot enough to send you into a coma. “Say it,” he utters, teasing, “say you forgive me.”

“I forg’ve you,” you croak.

“Forgive who?” He presses.

“I forgive you, Sammy.”

“That’s my girl,” Sam husks the promise between kisses to your clit, “So good to me. So sweet.”

Somehow, this is just as life-altering for him as it is for you. Long, flowing crests of pleasure seep hot through your system, winding tighter, tighter, tighter, twitching in the muscles of your stomach and almost cramping in your curled toes. The taste of you is so rich that Sam’s back quakes with euphoric shudders, trembling deep under the skin where he’s too far gone to rein back in. Sweaty locks of his bangs flutter as he breathes. It’s the only sign he’s breathing at all, really, what with him eating you out like he’s fuckin’ starved.

Sam gives a few good twists of his finger deep in your pussy (which doesn’t even graze how deep he might be with his cock). When you’re a puddle on the mattress and used to him, Sam withdraws to studiously coach you, “Deep breaths, ______.”

It takes a moment for the words to register. Once they have, you wind down long enough to measure your crazed breathing into even strokes. The ceiling overhead swims with dancing candlelight shadows and floating cartoon stars. Sam lifts his head to see for himself that you’re following his instructions, and after he’s done falling in love with the sight of you, Sam fills you up with two digits instead of one.

“A-ah!”

Just like before, they’re thrust in to the hilt at once. The throbbing, aching, leeching core of your arousal positively explodes, the urge to be filled finally touched. Sam’s responding bassy groan vibrates all the way up your body. The length and thickness of his fingers is put to immediate use, stretching you out with long knuckling gestures. You’re so unimaginably wet that your pussy just pulls him right in.

There’s a pause where you wiggle down onto his hand and brace yourself for the next brain-melting touch, and true to form, Sam sails straight over your grandest expectations. He’s quick to find the silky heart of arousal in your core again. You only know it by reputation, not experience, so when Sam presses into it with two soft fingerpads the pitch of your wailing jumps up ten octaves. Suddenly the pleasure is hot hot hot inside-going-out.

Sam tilts his head to one side and finds the gall to ask you: “How does that feel?”

(He just wants to hear you say it.)

“So good,” you weep. “Please please please gimme more, Sam, please—”

“It’s gonna be okay, _____. I’ll make it all better…”

Only then does Sam’s tongue get back to work, and—and holy fucking shit, he swoops in to steal the gold, demolishing every other name in the pussy-eating game. Sam wins. Sam fucking wins.

If this is just how his fingers feel…

Sam’s grin takes on a confident gleam. By coincidence, it’s around then that you remember that he’s psychic.

Somewhere between licking you into the next dimension and, oh yeah, Sam licking you into the next dimension, he’s pinned your thighs to your chest with a firm hand under your knees. You squeeze that hand for all you’ve got, every feeble atom in your body scrubbed raw with perfect pulsing desire.

To think, you’d spent this whole time getting off with your hand. A fucking hand. A few fingers! Sam crooks his in a way you’d never even hoped for on your own, finding that fluttery, twitchy spot inside you and working it for all it has. You’d asked for more and he gives you more, thrusting two fingers in at a brutal, even pace—again and again and again, til’ you’re thrashing up and off the mattress, wailing, your whole body a fist cramping shut around him. You snap in so tight toward him that you shove your face into your knees and cross your ankles tight behind Sam’s neck, keening, the fire knotted in your body devouring whatever fuel he’ll give.

Sam’s skill with his hands made you feel like an amateur in your own department. But his slick velvet tongue on your slick velvet pussy, taking slow sucks on your clit that turn into big broad licks, licking you up, licking you into his mouth whole, made just the thought of masturbation fucking laughable. I mean, c’mon! What the fuck are you supposed to do after this? Pop into the bathroom to use the showerhead, when Sam and his insatiable appetite for pussy are sitting right in the next room? Why even bother fantasizing about him and dicking around with a vibrator when nothing would ever compare to the real thing, shoving his parched panting mouth between your legs in an addict’s haze?

Still lapping up your dripping core, Sam pries his free hand from your grip. You’re pretty sure you have the right to whine in protest. Without his leverage for support your weak thighs collapse straight open, and for all you know the gates of heaven had parted to reveal god’s most beautiful angel. Sam is the picture of filth. His pretty pink lips are sealed around your cunt, his nose is all cute and smushed into your pubic bone, and you watch in time with every dirty lap as his jaw rolls handsomely under his skin.

The look on his face is unfor-fucking-gettable. In fifty years, sixty years, seventy, you know this memory will still live inside you, since no man has ever looked at you that way before. You weren’t sure it was even possible. Hazy euphoria radiates in unending rays from Sam’s face. He wants you. He trusts you. He is written all over with warm, intent desire, satisfying himself on you.

“Stay still,” Sam asks, politely.

Politely, you slap back against the bed and moan out, “Mhhmm.”

A new kind of mischief flashes across his face. You would’ve never pinned Sam as the type of guy to thrive with an audience, but now that he knows you’re watching, he falls seamlessly into a performance. His act is a three-parter.

While keeping his pace with his fingers, Sam starts by sliding slow off your pussy and spitting on it even slower. Whatever hazel leftover in his eyes has been swallowed totally by glittering, black delight. The muscles is his arm bulge and cramp fucking into you so hard. Pleased with himself, Sam dips down, dark eyes disappearing under his bangs, and makes a show of pointing his tongue to flicker across the raw nerves of your clit.

There’s more after that in the finale of Sam’s act, but the constant, brutal winding toward your release has taken its final toll. You have no fucking clue how you’ve survived this long. The overpowering squeezes of arousal inside you become full-body, wracking pangs. The sweaty trembling scraps of your soul leftover from Sam’s work throb and throb until they’re a blinding star. At the center of it, your core, tight and hot and so loved by Sam’s mouth. The searing pleasure becomes explosive. Apparently, the noisy, pitchy moans waking up the mountainside are coming from you, as you claw to get Sam even a molecule closer—closer, closer, closer—s-so close—!

So…

Close…

And you’re there. In the shimmering, divine realm Sam has made just for you; the realm your meager hands could never bring you to, and the realm you’ll be chasing still for the rest of your life. It becomes blatantly obvious in the next blissful minute that you’ve never cum before. Not for real, at least. This was a real orgasm, flashing through your spirit and flowing hot and beautiful through the numb ends of your body. You wail through it like it’s real, that’s for sure.

Your pussy clamps down around Sam’s fingers in waves of slippery pressure, and he revels in every second of it. You’re fucked through it. Kissed through it. He keeps up his pace and smushes his face in close, and that’s when you realize, oh fuck, Sam is going to drink your glass empty. The soft scooping of his tongue ramps up and up and over, til’ the edges of your vision start to spot and your muscles are too tight to unknot and it’s all too much.

“Sa—Sam—”

Just that word has him off you. You think Sam draws back and away, but that’s just a guess, since the wires between you and the outside world have been fucked stupid. Even the language has been licked and lapped out of you.

“Sam…”

You feel… like soup. Wet all over and hot hot hot. Filling the shape of the bed. You make an honest attempt at communicating this to Sam as your soupy mind’s way of telling him how satisfied you are, but. Your pussy gives a delighted, distracting throb that melts you into the top quilt all over again. Wow.

Just. Wow. You marinate in the aftershocks for what feels like ages, speechless.

Down by your legs (so that’s where he went!), Sam peels his heaving chest off the bedspread. Right. If you couldn’t breathe, he definitely couldn’t either. He gets up on all fours and crawls towards you like a guy in an RnB music video, all sexy moving arms and hips. It really shouldn’t be as appealing as it absolutely is. Starry-eyed, you open lazy arms to him and haul him down the second he’s close enough. He falls on top of you with a happy oomf. He’s long and smooth and wonderful, making you sigh when he snuggles in.

A few sparkling millennia go by laying in bed with him, toying with his hair and giggling dazedly to yourself. Sam hides his blazing face in your neck and murmurs something.

You’re buzzed by the skin-to-skin contact and cum drunk, which puts everything he says into fuzzy empty speech bubbles. The low, shy rasp of his voice tickles your neck. You try again.

“...Uh-huh…?”

“Was, uh, that too intense? Or…?”

The question floats around in your head for a while, bumping into things and spinning in zero gravity. Finally, the lights in your ship start to come on, and you pull what Sam said out from space.

“Look at me a minute.”

Sam does, curious.

“How’d,” you struggled to find your breath, “how the hell’d you learn t’ do that.”

And suddenly, Sam’s high school shyness is on a man’s face, and that man licks your slick off his lip and suppresses an evil grin. “I have, y’know. A thing about it.”

“A thing?” You echo, laughing with him. Maybe if you said it again it wouldn’t blow your mind as much. “A thing. Try an addiction, Sam, holy shit.”

In a few days, you’re gonna have to act normal around him in a room with his brother, while Sam uses the lips he defiled you with to talk, drink, and smile. Fuck. For the rest of your life, you’re gonna have to sit beside him at the dinner table and remember how he told you had a thing for eating pussy. A thing.

Glowing with innocent humility, Sam pawed up onto his hands, rolled onto his side, and positioned himself like a pin-up girl inviting you to bed. When he was done broadcasting with his entire body how much he wanted you, Sam shrugged. “I dunno… I just love to do it.”

(Being stunned silent by Sam tally: one million and three.)

He’s not real. There’s no way he’s real. You grab around for some part of him to pinch, and though Sam’s indignant yelp sounds authentic, you’re unconvinced. They had to have cooked him up in a lab somewhere.

This earns you a deep, fond Sam laugh. He gives your closest hip a playful pinch too, and after a brief tickle-fight that you miserably lose, Sam tilts his lips toward yours and husks, “Roll over that way and c’mere.”

With nothing else to do but submit happily to Sam’s will, you follow his hand and tilt in toward the wall. “You are something else.”

You’re joking, but you can also kind of feel it. Sam slings his arm over your ribs to pull your back flush to his chest, and already you melt into each other, settling back into the hollows you made in the blankets the night before. This close you can feel the magic in him. Sam oozes with cozy bonfire heat, his body laying sure and protective against your body, the last dregs of hunt anxiety in him gone. You feel the worn-soft denim of his open jeans as Sam’s lap wiggles down to scoop under you. A map of what’s ahead.

He teases a hand down your ribcage, thumbing sweetly at your belly. Sam tilts his head forward for a kiss, and unable to resist him, you meet him in the middle for one that turns into two, then three, then a swath of obsessed pecks. He must have a thing about kissing, too.

Sam pulls back to study you. With less confidence than you’d expect, he asks, “You wanna keep going?”

Just the teeniest motion of your head has Sam swooping for the chance to kiss you again, but you stop him short and twist to get a better look at him. In a high, maidenly voice, you play at being confused. Your poker face is still awful, so you have to hide your massive grin behind the invisible handkerchief you’re clutching.

“Keep going? My, a gentleman like you… an unmarried woman like me… what else is there to do, Samuel?”

His week being teased by you at all angles has forced him to evolve. Sam forgets altogether about indulging your bit and upgrades straight to more wonderful, ticklish manhandling, wiggling an arm between your vulnerable side and the bed to practically throw you back where you belong. You squeak and sputter between laughs, pretending your skin doesn’t explode with goosebumps at his touch.

When his massive palm is spread over your breastbone, Sam hoists you back against him, rolls in to threaten squishing you with more plush muscle and manly weight, and snarls in a way that ruins your metaphorical panties all over again.

“Uh-uh. Don’t play. You know exactly what m’ gonna do to you. Do y—?”

Sam stirs up his hips as he talks. All the snooty teasing left in your tank evaporates in one fell swoop, feeling the delicious outline of his dick swelling against you. Okay. You’re woman enough to admit that does it for you, and you really, really don’t want to wait anymore. Sam is an unbearable tease who will drag this out forever. You take matters into your own hands. Or, really, you put them into his.

…You prop open your closest leg for him, bent at the knee.

“Aw,” Sam rumbles, “didn’t even have’ta ask.”

You don’t hide your mean little grin. Sam, of course, kisses you into oblivion just seeing it, sliding a coarse hand under the silky, sensitive flesh behind your knee to keep you open for him. The ashes of your last climax are still simmering with heat, but it’s Sam’s kiss and his touch that reignites you totally.

It’s a bit of a twist to lean back and kiss him, but Sam’s height is made for this: his bulge swells right under your pussy, and he has the room to lean in close to your ear and purr—

“Take it out.”

Sam is asking you to take out his dick. You know that, yet you imagine yourself a month from now, unsure of which weapon the boys are comfortable letting you borrow from the Impala’s trunk. Dean’ll tell you, oh, the machete’s fine. Then Sam, with glittering eyes and full knowledge of how he’s torturing you, will nudge his chin toward the trunk and utter that phrase. Go on. Take it out. Knowing exactly what you’re thinking, and when, and how. And how deep and how hard.

It takes some shuffling and some curling, but you manage to work Sam’s jeans and boxers down his thighs. Just the sound of his zipper makes your mouth water. He hisses soft by your ear at the chill of the room, but in your hand Sam’s dick is body-hot by comparison. And. And so… s-so…

You scoop your palm around the shaft, squeezing him, feeling him. Through your back you feel Sam curl in and shiver, rumbling in approval. Your cheeks feel like they’re cooking by the candlelight just going for it, but your curiosity wins out—or, more accurately, your fucking awe. Because. What the fuck. You’ve never exactly seen a dick in person before, but you’re not naive. Sam is big enough to split you in half, and—and it just kind of pisses you off, because not only is he big, his dick is pretty, too. He has a pretty dick. Just cause’ being smart and empathetic and all that other bullshit didn’t make him sexy enough. God.

You nuzzle your cheek into Sam’s and he drops his lazy temple against yours. The two of you lounge there, heaving like peeping toms, as you both take in how sexy his cock looks leaking against your belly. Laying between your legs. It’s goddamn photo-worthy. Then, the angle your hand is taking slow, experimental pumps of him… accidentally… grinds Sam’s shaft between your abuse-swollen folds. He’s already twisting to moan into your mouth when you start to rock along him in earnest. You take a fistful of Sam’s hair and ride him for all he’s worth, dragging your sopping wet cunt across his dick until he glistens.

For three blissful seconds Sam locks you against his chest and grinds with you, making it instantly clear why people always use the word friction with sex. The push and pull of it has you whimpering loud and high against Sam’s mouth. And, thank god for him, because when your head starts to fog with visions of being filled raw, Sam pulls away from your kiss and recollects his control.

“Condom,” he gasps for breath, “we should. Probably. Yeah.”

“...Right,” you cursed. Your high school sex-ed teachers would not be proud of your lack of forethought, but it’s impossible to have any kind of thought in this situation, period.

For example: Sam tilts away to fish around in his duffle bag beside the bed, and, unfiltered, your mind taps its fingertips together and cheerily hopes, maybe Sam will be so rough the condom breaks.

Woah there, girlfriend, your reason butts in. But it doesn’t have anything else to say, since you start picturing how Sam’s cum would look oozing out of you, and. Um.

“You almost sound disappointed,” Sam jokes, digging for his wallet.

You snuggle down into the blankets and pretend you’re not hiding your face. “A little bit,” you confess, chanting the word responsible over and over in your head for good measure. “How much am I gonna feel you?”

Sam finds the condom and rolls back into your bubble. He turns in to kiss your shoulder, and you can feel his smile when he tells you, “You’re gonna feel every bit of me. Every inch… every stroke… I promise.”

He is so determined to assuage your worries that he holds the condom where you can see it, turning it over (between those long, long fingers) to make sure it’s punctureless and new. The little foil packet has XL printed on one side, which both adds to your sexy thoughts and pulls you out of them. Sam really is that big. He knows it, too, which is probably how he reads your nervousness.

“We’ll take it slow,” Sam promises, voice honey-sweet and quick to reassure you. “S’ big, yeah, but I’m gonna do everything to make you comfortable, kay? And if you wanna stop—”

He cares so much, you realize.

“Sam?”

He looks into your eyes like he loves you, and utters, “Yeah?”

“Thank you for making this good for me,” you say.

Sam melts. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, and you let him know it’s okay with a softer, warmer kiss than the others you’ve shared. You take in the shape of his face, the subtle freckles on his cheeks and nose, how the candlelight shadows sweeten Sam’s gaze. It slams on top of you how there’s nobody in the whole world you’d rather be doing this with, and in one puff your anxiety is in the wind.

You wrap your fingers around Sam’s wrist and flirt, “...Can I put it on you?”

Sam nods, eyes lidded. You’ve never exactly had to open a condom before, so you’re careful to pry the foil open with your fingers. For whatever reason you hadn’t figured it’d be lubed, but it makes fitting the ring of it around Sam’s tip and sliding it down his shaft a bit easier. A soft happy groan escapes him. They keep escaping him as you pump his cock in languid twists of your hand.

Sam nuzzles his face between your shoulder blades, whisper-rasping, “Would you like to…? It’ll be less scary that way.”

You really, really would. Before you make your move, Sam adds, “But, uh, before you put it in—want you to look at me.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “Wanna see the look on your face when I fill you up.”

Well, fuck. You tilt your face against Sam’s, nose to nose with him and warmed by his breath, and feel the slow ripples of heat in your belly roll into long, growing waves. Sam slides a hand back to the silky underside of your thigh and props you open for him. When you line Sam up, you start with the tip, not pressing, just stroking, feeling him against you. A satisfied purr drizzles out of your mouth to Sam’s. So far, your chosen pace has been “just go for it,” and since it hasn’t failed you yet—

—you go for it.

Sam’s bulbous cockhead dips between your folds to find your hole. A desperate, keening yes squeals out of you. You’re spit-wet and absolutely caked in slick, so there’s no hitch when you pull Sam in, just a hot, sudden fullness that seems to go endlessly deeper and deeper. The fit is so fucking snug. Snug like he’s made for you. Snug and perfect and stinging, made easier by Sam’s soft huffing coos. Look at you go. Makin’ this look easy. You looked so pretty when I ate you out, baby, but I knew you’d look even prettier taking my dick. So eager, Sam says, and he’s right. Your wetness is just begging to swallow him whole. Just being stuffed with half of Sam’s cock has you sucking down air, so the final surge to bring him to the hilt pries a genuine, hoarse cry from your belly. Sam shoves his face in your hair and groans, the sound catching on the snarl between his teeth.

Together, you orbit around the throbbing core of pleasure between you, suspended in the moment.

Sam is a wind-up toy, springs tightening with every vicious squeeze of your pussy. His mouth has made you soft, slippery, and swollen, so the firmness of his cock is different but stellar. This close, in such an intimate position, you can feel his heartbeat in more ways than one, and it surrounds you and fills you so effortlessly that you can only assume it’s your own. He touches your body like it’s one he just stepped into, feeling you from a new perspective for the first time. Sam fixates on your tummy, too, and you find out why when he presses down under your belly button—feeling the thick swell of him under your skin, deeper than anyone else could ever go. He gives you a turn too, pressing your hand down in the same place. It sends electric blackouts of lust through your system that demand to be fucked brainless.

You start to wiggle in his grasp for more, stirring your hips down onto him and choking out his name. Sam is already responding: your open leg is scooped into the crook of his arm and drawn tight to his chest, spreading you open as wide as you’ll go. His hold cants up your hips in a way that lets his cock hit just that much deeper, and that’s all you need to dash your head against the pillows and mewl for your life. Two rough fingerpads slip back into the sopping wet home of your clit and stir against it at a pace brutal enough to cramp. Between Sam’s fingers and the thick drag of his cock against your soft walls, you’re desperate for something to hold onto. You latch onto Sam’s wrist for dear life. Then starts Sam’s pulling and pushing in brief, filling strokes, rocking, driving you fucking crazy, making you need him to fuck you like you need air. He was deep to a point that you swear you could feel him in the back of your throat.

“You want more?” Sam asks, and if it weren’t for the breathy rattle in his voice he could’ve sounded innocent.

You nod until your head is close to rolling off. “Yes, yes Sammy please.”

Sam grins. You feel it for an instant, then his cheek pulls away from your back and all you have left to read him by is the needy, carnal noises he’s making. All at once he’s drawing out further than he had before. You’re almost empty for a whole sob-worthy breath, which Sam makes up for with every ounce of his being.

For what has to be three glorious hours, Sam leans back to fuck you in powerful, even strokes, filling you to the brim every time, and filling the room with the thick, wet sound of his cock pounding into you. You repay him the only way you can, and—get—noisy.

You moan. You wail. You mewl, pretty much every time Sam’s hips snap up into your ass. You pant hard through it all, begging him in soft whines to f-fuck me, fuck me, p-please, Sam and to go deeper, baby—uhnn, more more more…! From there you’re on autopilot, letting loose even the most primal noises that Sam gets out of you. He is very, very good at his task, so you color the room with every erotic syllable under the sun. A porn studio would hire the two of you without even entering the room. Sam especially, but you might be biased since every time you sigh his name he drives in a little harder.

Indescribable pleasure follows even his tiniest movements. You absorb every pump with nothing but desperate enthusiasm, spreading your legs further, curling your back, and digging your fingers into the cushions for any sort of leverage at all. Just a few minutes pass until your limit is a trembling boulder of knots in your gut, but still Sam’s nowhere near finished yet. Slick coats your thighs and Sam's cock, you cry at every thrust, your body twitches and shudders all over, but he's still not there.

He slows. The brush of his lips against your ear and the wisp of his breath set your nerves on fire. “You’re gonna finish first, but tha’—that’s okay, baby,” Sam reassures, and works your poor swollen clit even harder, choking a string of thready moans from you. “Wanna feel your pretty pussy cum all over my dick.”

“Oh fuck,” you whine.

(Tomorrow, you’re going to wake up and wonder where the hell he got that dirty mouth from. Somebody needs to clean it out with soap.)

It’s as Sam’s laying sloppy kisses on your throat that his prediction comes true. The tissue in your body pulls taut, winding tight, tighter, curling around the epicenter of pleasure, toward him. You expect Sam’s thrusts to take a fierce turn. Instead, you’re treated to the same thorough, determined pace that got you here in the first place—the same pace that is currently jellifying your insides and reducing you to tears on this teeny bed. If the percussive slapping of skin on skin wasn’t enough to wake up the entire planet, then the vicious slam of the bedframe putting a new dent in the wall would certainly do the job. Somehow you hear it all past your pulse thundering in your ears. The arm hooked behind you to rake a hand through Sam’s hair bobs with each thrust, and your leg trapped in Sam’s hold bounces on beat. All you can do is scrape out broken gasps, until the tossing waves of heat and lust and power twisted in your belly have built too high—and all things that go up must inevitably come crashing down.

“That’s my girl,” Sam slurs, squeezing your tits in both hands. He rolls his hips into you and coos, “Just like that… take what you need, baby, it’s okay…”

Like last time, Sam fucks you through it. You’re scooped up in his arms and squeezed tight, tight enough to be drawn into Sam’s body and absorbed. The hot, gorgeous drags of friction against the sensitive walls of your cunt slow, but Sam never draws out, burying himself deep and soaking up every wild clamp of your pussy. There’s something fucking spectacular about having something to clench down on. Sam is that perfect something, vieny and thick and still fucking hard.

You cum on him in long rippling rushes of wet heat that feel downright unrealistic, otherworldly—exaggerated, maybe, by the fact that you fucking—black—out!

It must only be a few beats later that you come out of it, but the fact remains that Sam Winchester made you cum so hard you passed out, and you’re going to have to live with that for the rest of your life. You’re already starting to realize that Sam is the best lay you’re ever going to have, period, and the dull happy throb of your orgasm hasn’t even left your body yet. Sam hasn’t even left your body yet.

Wait, fuck. He’s still hard.

…This could be. This could be very good.

Fueled by hormones, sweat, and adrenaline, you pull off him and roll the rest of the way onto your belly. During all the crazed fucking, you and Sam had migrated halfway down the bed. You crawl to the top as sexily as you’re able, stuff your cheek against the closest pillow, and wiggle your cum-soaked ass in the air just for him, open for his taking. Your face could start the whole bed on fire, but you feel more alluring than embarrassed.

“C’mon, Sammy,” you taunt, and throw him a mean grin, “gimme the big finish.”

Sam sucked in a deep breath from his nose, probably preying for strength. A dirty smile touched his face. “You’re… you’re amazing, _____.”

Feeling like it, you turned your face over onto the other side of the pillow and tempted him with another mesmerizing ass wiggle. Sam was up on his knees in an instant. You should’ve known that Sam, the addict, would instantly take the chance to shove his face between your legs. The only warning you get is his massive hands clamping down on your calves to hold you still, then a hot, silky tongue swipes once through your folds for a taste. You haven’t finished squealing when Sam’s weight saddles up behind you, and the heavy shape of his cock starts to rut between your legs.

“Sorry,” Sam hums, not sorry at all, “Needed a taste of you.”

Stars above, he doesn’t hesitate to get handsy with you, too, taking two broad handfuls of your ass-cheeks. Your ass sits so nicely against his hips that you start to wonder if soulmates are real. Because Sam must be yours, fitting into you like a key and teasing you open like a master lockpicker. Once you’re where Sam wants you, he bobs your ass back until his tip has room to part your folds, and after that you’re both brought home into sparkling, slippery, blinding pleasure. He digs his fingers into your ass and pulls you right on him, filling your pussy to the hilt, like always. Key. Lock. Click click click.

“Yes,” you and Sam hiss together.

“Fuck,” Sam adds. “You should see yourself like this. You look so stuffed, baby, squeezing down on me.”

“Feel so stuffed,” you flirt back, wiggling into him.

This angle is different than the last, exaggerating, as Sam immediately starts in on his pace from before, how thick his cock is. He curls his fingers around your waist and beats in hard, pulling on your still-sparking overstimulated wires from last time. Every joint in your body locks ramrod straight, overwhelmed with brief flashes of too much too much. Your pussy clenches helplessly around him, but Sam brings you over it with a few well-placed stirs of his hips. In no time you’re mewling for him like you were before, emboldened by your first round.

You get your nails into Sam’s sculpted ass and drag him deeper, faster, urging him on the end of a moan, “Fuckin’ take it, Sammy—mhhnn, take what—what you need, Sam, yes, so good—”

This is exactly what Sam needs to hear. You’re scooped up around the middle, just like before, and Sam crushes his face into your back, spooning you close as he brings himself closer and closer to where he needs to be. Your hands can’t get enough of him, smoothing down his vieny arms and squeezing his hand against your belly. The picture the two of you must make is obscene on unimaginable levels. Sam, latched onto you like a parasite and reaming you for his release. You, smushed under him and loving it, digging your ass up into him for more. All the sweat-twisted blankets shoved to the floor. Sam’s hips canting your thighs apart. The worn-smooth slope of his palms, squeezing your tits and your tummy and your waist in achy handfuls.

Finally, Sam’s hoarse choked panting cuts off with a sharp breath. His hips putter into you for the last time, then still. Sam spills into the condom, shuddering against you from head to toe, and slowly… the two of you collapse into each other… panting and panting until your breathing syncs up. Sam’s chest goes up. You suck in a breath. His chest goes out, and you deflate right with him.

He doesn’t get up and you don’t ask him to. As the haze of sex starts to clear from the room (as much as it can, anyway), the chill of the mountainside creeps in behind it, and the hottest thing around for miles is easily the giant, naked Sam Winchester in your bed. Wrapped up in him and as warm as can be, you wonder if he’s as close to passing out (again) as you are.

But no. Suddenly, Sam’s up on his hands, and there’s only two possible reasons why.

“Didn’t get to kiss you as I finished,” he complained.

Smushed into your pillow, you tell him, “I think you have two addictions.”

Regardless, you roll onto your back so Sam can lay one on you. Since your soul is officially back in your body, you’re more aware than ever of the aches and bruises you’ve earned, not to mention a few sets of pomegranate-purple fingerprints. After a few stunning kisses from Sam, you’re still not sure that all of that actually happened. You touch his face and pinch his cheeks plenty of times, but all he does is look at you extra dreamily. Still doesn’t seem real.

Of course, being a gentleman, he decides to prove it to you.

“Speaking of my other addiction…” Sam lays a playful hand on your belly, “I know I wound you up a bit back there. Can I take care of you one more time? Please?”

“Hmm…” You pretend to think, grinning to yourself. “Man. I just can’t say no to you, Sammy…”

Two weeks later, you’re crammed in a teeny car instead of a teeny cabin, riding down a back road in rural Texas the Dean way—blowing by road signs at sixty miles an hour, windows down and music up. Sam’s shotgun. You’re content to sit behind him, catching his eye in the side-mirror as he pretends to hunt around newspapers for a new case. His hair flutters in the wind, outlining his face in the most enchanting way.

“I don’t know how the hell the two of you stayed up there the whole week!” Dean hollers over his Lynyrd Skynyrd tape, which he could turn down whenever he wants to. He throws you an unenvious look from the driver’s seat, “You must’a been bored out of your fuckin’ gourds!”

You’re honestly surprised that Dean didn’t automatically assume sexy shenanigans occurred at the cabin. Sam doesn’t move to answer, deeply engrossed in his reading. Where Dean can’t see, you curl your fingers into the hair at the back of Sam’s neck and caress his scalp, which earns you a look that promises that sexy shenanigans can happen anywhere. They can happen in motel rooms. Click. Even Impalas, when Dean’s gone. Click click click.

You shrug at Sam’s brother, shouting over the music with an unsubtle grin. “We entertained ourselves!”

Tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1 @lacilou @cevans-winchester @leigh70 @seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration

READ PART TWO.

#sam winchester #spn #supernatural #uncouthspn #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader headcanons #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester smut #user uncouth

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hoonieshoney · 16 days

Text

🔪Synopsis: Four university students have been murdered by a Ghostface killer. With the murders getting more vicious and frequent, you and your best friend Jungwon decide to spend the weekend indoors. He insists you stay over at his apartment with him and his two roommates;you would just be safer there.

🔪Pairing: Ghostface!Heeseung x Female!Reader x Ghostface!Sunghoon

🔪Warnings: DARK CONTENT. Violence, murder, descriptions of the murders, slight knife play, blood, slight blood play, dub con/non con, yandere, degradation, threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral (m+f), face fucking, choking, cum eating, size kink, slapping, spit, creampie, breeding kink, angst, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of alcohol, cursing

🔪Word Count: 11k+

Author Note: Ahh!! It’s here, thank you for being here! This isn’t 100% proofread so there might be a few grammar mistakes. I posted a preview of this fic, but I added a few details to this final version so if you read the preview this final piece has just a few slight additions to it! I hope you enjoy it and please like/reblog/comment, I’d really appreciate it. Love you little ducklings!

"There’s always two," Jungwon mumbled, watching the reporters swarm the Dean.

There was another murder Friday night. Still no leads, no clues, just a sighting of someone in a Ghostface mask.

You looked up from your textbook and saw his weary face staring in the direction of the press conference. You were supposed to spend the morning with your best friend Jungwon prepping for an English midterm. But his focus is on the media circus that’s invaded the University campus.

"Two what?" You asked highlighting a sentence from your textbook.

"Two killers. The reporters keep saying the murders have similarities to the Scream movies but no one is talking about how there’s always two Ghostface killers in the end." He sighed, picking at the dry skin around his fingernails.

After 10 years of friendship it was always easy to tell when he was nervous, he always fiddled with his fingers and chewed holes into his bottom lip. You put your highlighter down and gently grabbed his hand to distract him from his nervous picking.

"Not necessarily", you shrugged. "The third movie only had one killer." you smiled trying to joke but his worried expression didn’t falter. He just rolled his eyes and swatted your hand away from his.

Damn, he really is nervous. You had only seen Jungwon this rattled with nerves after his parents divorce when you were kids. That was also around the time your friendship really bloomed into a type of dependency on each other. You hadn’t left each other's side for more than two days at a time, switching classes to match schedules in highschool and now you were at the same University together. Platonic soulmates you two always say.

"Why are you so worried Won? If this is really like those movies we are safe! The killers always targeted one friend group and not to be super insensitive but the people that have been murdered weren't our friends."

He looked at you while he chewed his bottom lip watching you as you spoke. "Wonnie, we don’t go to those parties and we aren't friends with people that do. We’ll be okay."

You grabbed his hand again, rubbing circles on his palm to help ground his nerves. Skinship always calmed him down. The situation was scary, but you weren’t worried. You just assumed this was some copycat psycho trying to be famous. And besides, the first two murders took place at frat parties, the third one was after a football game, and the recent one was at make out point. Places you or Jungwon don’t frequent.

"But isn’t it kind of weird?" he asked, scooting closer to you. He looked around making sure no one was in an ear shot of your conversation. Before bringing his face closer to yours and staring into your eyes.

"Keeho, Mark, Yeji, and Winter were all murdered."

"Yeah and? What’s weird about that? They’re all in the same friend group like I said." You tried to focus your attention back on your textbook ignoring the loud yelling from the reporters signaling the press conference had begun.

"The same friend group that has been tormenting us since day one of university." He said shutting your textbook and turning your body to face him fully. He grabbed your hands and held them in his, he wanted you to take him seriously.

That was true. Those four were pretty notorious for having a mean streak. But it wasn’t just targeted at you and Won. Lots of people were constantly on the end of their mean words and cruel jokes. They were the typical rich kids who thought their parents' money made them better than everyone else, partying and drinking every weekend, with the mindset that rules didn’t apply to them.

"They tormented lots of people Won, stop overthinking or you’ll get stress wrinkles." You mused, smoothing his brown hair down and kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled showing off the dimples you loved so much. He bumped his forehead against yours, "I’m just saying,"

He looked back at the reporters as they started to talk about what they knew about the latest murder victim that happened over the weekend, Keeho.

"I hope no one we know is Sydney fucking Prescott in this scenario."

“Don’t worry Wonnie, no one we know is that exciting.” you joked tapping his knee, “come on cutie, we’ll be late for class.” Standing up from the courtyard table you stuffed your work into your backpack and extended your hand out for Jungwon to take.

“As if I can focus with all this going on.” He grumbled wrapping his larger hand around yours.

Walking into the classroom you found your usual seats next to each other and started prepping for the lecture. Out of your peripheral you saw Choi Yeonjun take the empty seat to the right of you. “Hey, bunny” A small smile gracing his pretty face and pouty lips. The cute nickname he had given you the first day you moved into your dorm. You had accidentally knocked into him with a box of your belongings causing your favorite item from home to tumble to the ground. He didn’t tease you, despite Keeho being there and making fun of you for bringing a stuffed animal to college, Yeonjun only smiled and picked up the white plush bunny from the ground and kindly offered to take the box up to your dorm for you.

“Hey Junnie, how was your weekend?” You smiled, turning your chair to face him.

“Kind of boring actually, did you hear about Keeho?” He asked, adjusting the black rimmed glasses on his face. Such a cute nerd.

“Of course, everyones talking about it.” They news said they found him hanging from a tree limb in the woods behind the campus at a known make out spot. He was supposedly disemboweled like Drew Barrymore’s character in the first Scream movie. He was a jerk, but no one deserves to die like that. How can someone even stomach doing something like that?

“Yeah..my little brother Gyu tried to tell him not to go out alone so late at night but he was too egotistical to listen.” He sighed leaning back in chair. Gyu and Keeho were best friends from what you heard, which was odd considering how many times Keeho stole Yeonjun’s glasses and tripped him in the halls.

“He’s always been one to do..whatever he wants.” You say trying not to come off a little bitter at the end. He chuckled softly, knowing what you were trying not to say. “He was an asshole, it's okay to say it.” He mused nudging your arm playfully. You cracked a soft smile, “no comment.”

He smiled and scooted his chair closer to yours. You spent the last few weeks since the ‘bunny’ incident getting closer to Yeonjun. You had a few study sessions together, and texted each other everyday. He was an absolute sweetheart and never made you feel uncomfortable. He was also incredibly shy, the one time his hand accidentally brushed against your thigh he couldn’t even look you in the eye. He was a blushing stuttering mess the rest of the study date.

“So I was thinking..maybe we could hang out this weekend. We could, you know...go out Friday night?”

Younjun’s cheeks were tinted pink and he was fiddling with his fingers in his lap avoiding looking into your eyes. He was afraid your answer would be no, or even worse you would laugh straight in his face.

Jungwon scoffed and mumbled something under his breath, his face never leaving his laptop as he overheard the conversation. You mentally reminded yourself to kick him for that later. Jungwon was definitely the protective brother figure in your life, no guy was ever good enough for you according to him. He took care of you after too many loser guys broke your heart, and he didn’t want that happening again.

“Oh? What would we do?” leaning toward him propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin in the palm of your hand staring at him playfully. “We can keep it classic? Dinner, movie, and see where the night takes us.” He smiled, “but we can do whatever you want. I’d be fine with whatever you decide Bunny.”

You scooted your chair closer to him and grabbed his fiddling hands the same way you do for Jungwon. You were close enough to smell his cologne and see the cute beauty mark he had under his right eye beneath his glasses, it was making you dizzy. He was so undeniably cute. “Well..”

Professor Jang walked in and started his usual morning greeting. You pulled apart from each other, dropping his hand, you straighten your chair to put you back facing the front of the classroom.

“I get to pick the movie.” you whispered to Junnie keeping your eyes facing to the front of the classroom. You saw the grin spread on his face out of the corner of your eye, “of course bunny.”

“You shouldn’t be alone with him..” Jungwon whispered as you left class waving bye to Yeonjun. “Why not? Junnie’s a sweetheart, and your bestie is in a dry spell.” You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. He wrinkled his nose and laughed, “TMI..but seriously. With Ghostface running around killing people, it's not a good idea.” He was shaking his head. “I mean, what if he is the one...”

“Won, don’t finish that sentence. Yeonjun is a sweetheart, he could never do anything like that..” you huff growing slightly annoyed at what he was insinuating. How could he even think that? Yeonjun wouldn’t even step on the flowers outside, much less butcher someone. He picked up on the shift in your demeanor quickly, he didn’t want to upset you but he doesn’t trust anyone right now, especially with you.

“I’m sorry babe..I just don’t think it's safe.” He opens the exit door for you letting you walk out first. “I don’t want you mad at me Y/N, it’s just..I couldn’t live without you.” You stop walking at his soft voice and sighed. You wrap your arms around your best friend's waist, “I couldn’t live without you either, Wonnie.”

He rests his chin atop your head and hugs you back. He wasn’t trying to sabotage your potential new relationship, he just didn’t trust your safety in the hands of someone who couldn’t even throw a punch. Jungwon wasn’t a fighter himself but he’s never been afraid to get his knuckles bloody for you. He’s done it four times.

“I just want you to be safe.” He whispers in your hairline. You nod understanding his reasoning, you pull away to look up at him, “I’ll take your concerns into consideration Wonnie, but I really like Yeonjun..” He sighed and ruffled your hair, “I know. You have that dopey lovesick grin on your face everytime you see him.”

“I DO NOT!” You very much do.

Thursday morning was only good for one thing, treating yourself to pastries and lattes before an obnoxiously early history class with Jungwon. Whoever decided to teach history at seven thirty am was a menace. But these early morning meetings with Wonnie at seven am to eat sugary foods and get loaded on caffeine were moments you wouldn’t trade for the world.

When you arrive at the coffee house he’s already sitting at your usual table with his nose buried in his book when you arrive. Your usual latte waiting for you as well as three chocolate chip scones to share. “Good morning sunshine!” He beams as you sit down across from him. “Way too early for all your energy Wonnie..” you grumbled drinking the warm latte. He just smiled knowing this sleepy version of you all too well.

“HE DID IT AGAIN! GHOSTFACE KILLED AGAIN” a loud yell startles you. Looking out the large window, students are running out of the science lab across the courtyard screaming. Panic started filling the coffee house, not knowing what the man that yelled meant, people started to assume Ghostface must be lingering around.

Jungwon stood up quickly and grabbed you by pulling you to him, backing you against the nearest wall, “people are panicking and you could get hurt.”

He was right, people were running around and knocking into each other to get out of the shop. The small courtyard outside was a mess of students running and crying. Police cars and ambulances were speeding in and the loud sirens only added to the loud chaos. “Do you think he's here..” you asked, watching the scene of chaos unfold in front of you. “I-I don’t know..fuck..let’s get out of here, before it gets worse.”

He wraps his arm around your waist pulling you with him, you both leave the coffee house, “let’s go back to your dorm it's closer.” He’s pulling you tightly against him maneuvering you both around the mass of running students.

“Y/N!!”

You snap your head to the familiar voice of your roommate Jen. “Wonnie wait, it’s Jen.” You stop him from walking and point to your roommate running toward you. She stumbles in front of you both, crying as she throws her arms around you. You catch her and look at Won giving him a look signaling you weren’t sure what to do. Jungwon wrapped his other arm around her and moved you both away from the center of the courtyard. He dragged you two behind the coffee house to let her catch her breath.

She looked at him and cried into his chest, “I saw-I saw the room..there was so mu-much b-blood..who could do this..” she was sobbing as Wonnie held her tighter, shushing her softly to try and soothe her.

“What do you mean..What happened Jen..” You latch onto her side to help comfort her. Jen also had an early class on Thursday, Chemistry. The building everyone was running and screaming out of was the same building your roommate was in.

“The professor found him in the science lab..his throat was slit..they said he was ne-nearly decapitated..and st-stabbed..as if it's not horrible enough to almost decapitate him but to stab him over and over..”She sobbed harder against Jungwon.

“D-did you see the body Jen..”you asked, rubbing her back.

“I didn’t see the body..but there was so much blood Y/N..so much of it..it covered the whole room..” Her eyes were frantic and she couldn’t focus, it was as if she was searching for the killer around you three.

“Do you know who it was?” you ask, brushing the hair stuck to her wet cheeks away from her face. She was quiet and gripped Jungwon’s shirt tighter and tried to ground herself. “Jen?..” Her face was apprehensive and she swallowed hard before grabbing your hand.

“Yeonjun..” she whispered looking at you knowing the pain it was about to cause you.

Jungwon tenses up and you could see the color leave his face as he looked at you. The tears started to pour out of you before your brain could process what Jen just said. There was a loud ringing in your ears, and it felt like everything around you froze for just a split second.

Choi Yeonjun..was..dead…?

Your breaths became shallow as you started to sink to the floor unable to hold your weight.

“Whoa, baby breathe..you’re okay. I’m here and you’re safe..breathe baby..” Jungwon gently detached from Jen and caught you in his arms before your knees hit the gravel.

He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, “match my breathing baby, come on. You’ll make yourself vomit if you keep crying like this.”

You hadn’t realized how hard you were sobbing, hiccuping as you struggled to breathe. You just saw Junnie yesterday..and now..now he's gone? Just like that? No goodbye..no final hug..no more comforting smells of his cedarwood cologne..he was dead. Someone murdered him..he must have been so scared..Junnie…

You clung harder to Jungwon, he let you break down in his arms. Your loud wailing hitting straight to his heart, he knew how much you liked Yeonjun, it‘s killing him to see you this way. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you cry this hard before, and it terrifies him. Jen slumped against the wall covering her face with her hands, she couldn’t handle your wails only making her sob harder.

Jungwon let you both cry for a few more minutes before deciding he needed to get you both away from this mess. Being around here would make it worse, not to mention the large van labeled ‘Coroner’ was just arriving on the scene. He couldn’t let you see Yeonjun get taken away in a body bag. “Come on, let's get you guys back to your dorm. You both need some space away from here.”

He helped you up and grabbed Jen’s hand and led you away keeping your back turned away from the scene. He supported both of your weights as he walked you to your shared dorm, which thankfully was only half a block away. He watched you struggle to keep your composure for a few minutes before deciding to send Jen ahead to open the room. He lifted you carefully into his arms and carried you the rest of the way back to your room.

He placed you on your small twin size bed, taking your shoes off and wrapping you in one of your soft blankets. Your sobs died down, but your tears never stopped. You were barely blinking and it scared the fuck out of him. You looked broken. He kissed your forehead. “Take a nap baby, I’ll stay with you..you need to sleep. Your body needs to rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He stayed repeating soft words to you, running his fingers through your hair. Your little whines and hiccups dying down as you let the mental exhaustion take over.

This was a nightmare.

You heard soft movements and whispers breaking your dream state. Opening your swollen eyes you adjust to your surroundings. You slept the entire day away, seeing the sun already starting to set from your window. The reality hitting you again of what happened a few hours prior.

This wasn’t a nightmare and Yeonjun really was gone.

You looked around the room and saw Jungwon was packing your duffle bag and Jen was on her side of the room packing a suitcase. “What’s going on?” Your voice is sore and hoarse. You sit up from your bed confused.

“I can’t..I can’t stay here. I want to see my mom..I need to get away from here for a few days.” Jen whispered, zipping her suitcase shut. She looked at you sadly, she didn’t want to leave you in your state but she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t even take care of herself right now.

You nod understanding, “yeah, you should go.” Even though it pained you. It was selfish of you to want her to stay, you knew she saw the mess of the crime scene and she needed to get far away from this fucking University.

“I’m not leaving you here alone..you’re staying with me until Jen comes back.” Jungwon smiled softly while packing your favorite sweater. What? You shook your head and frowned. “Won you have roommates, I don’t think they want some girl crashing at their place..”

“Heeseung and Sunghoon are fine with it, I called them while you were sleeping. And you're not some girl, you're my best friend” He cut you off while grabbing your toiletry bag and shoving it in the duffle and zipping it shut. He grabbed your sneakers and sat on the floor at the foot of your bed grabbing your legs to help put your shoes on.

“I don't want to intrude, Wonnie..”

“You’re not an intrusion, Y/N.” He sighs, tying your shoes tightly. He rests his forehead on your knee and takes a deep breath. “I’m not taking any risks, not with you..you’re not staying here. I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to.” He looks up at you and his eyes are glassed over and his bottom lip is quivering. He is trying so hard to keep it together for you, but he’s terrified.

“Go with him, Y/N..please. It’s not safe here..” Jen sniffled, grabbing her suitcase from the bed.

You didn’t want to worry either of them unnecessarily. Maybe a change of scenery would be good. You needed space from the University and you needed to heal away from here. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Y/N,we have an off campus apartment. It's safer than here, baby..”

“Are you sure they're okay if I stay?”

“Of course, you’re always welcome.”

“Alright, I’ll go.”

You both walked Jen to her cab, Jungwon insisting on making sure she got into it safely. You hugged her tightly. “Text me when you get there, I love you.” You mumbled into her hair. You were both lucky that housing roomed you two together, you had been inseparable since move-in day. Only having been friends for a few short weeks you had grown to love and care for her. You wanted her safe, and she needed to get out of here.

“I love you too..stay close to Jungwon until I get back.” She whispered and kissed your cheek. She parted from you with a final hand squeeze and got in her cab and shut the door. She rolled down the window, “Keep our girl safe Wonnie.”

“With my life.” He smiled softly, waving her off.

You watched her cab drive off and wanted to cry again. A part of you felt like she wouldn’t come back, she packed for way more than a few days. But you couldn’t blame her, you couldn’t imagine what she had seen. You only hoped this wouldn’t be goodbye and you’d be reunited with her eventually. Jungwon grabbed your hand, breaking your thoughts, “come on.”

He tossed your duffle bag into the backseat of his car and opened his passenger door for you, helping you in and even buckling your seatbelt for you. He was treating you like glass, afraid you could break at any moment. You felt like glass, all you needed was one more thing to hit you and you’d break. Maybe you should go home too, but you could never leave Jungwon behind. You were the only family he had, aside from his roommates Heeseung and Sunghoon, and you didn’t know them well.

Jungwon met the two older guys in his computer class the first week of University, all three hitting it off instantly bonding over videogames. They offered their spare room to him after finding out Jungwon was sharing a single dorm room with three guys thanks to a housing mistake.

“It's been a while since you’ve seen Heeseung and Sunghoon. Heeseung is excited, he’s making your favorite for dinner, pasta.” He smiles starting the car. “At least he likes me, Sunghoon hates me..” You murmur leaning your head against the car window. The two times you met him at Jungwon’s apartment he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but near you.

Sunghoon was polite, but he didn’t smile at you and he seemed tense the entire time, with his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. And any time he did look at you he had this unreadable hard expression on his face, it was unsettling. It made you feel like he didn’t want to be around you which is why you made every excuse to not hang out at Won’s place.

Heeseung on the other hand was a sweetheart, his big bambi like eyes caught your attention first, his infectious smile and dorky humor had you laughing all night. He was warm and inviting to be around. Also, very affectionate like Jungown, hugging you and ruffling your hair, even kissing your cheek goodnight on the way out.

“He’s just shy, I promise he likes you. He just has to get to know you better is all” Jungwon smiled pulling out of the campus parking lot. You hummed softly and watched the traffic as Wonnie drove. You felt numb, at first you didn’t pay mind to these killings but now it was close to home..Ghostface took Yeonjun from you. It felt personal.

Thankfully, Jungwon’s apartment was only a twenty minute drive from the dorms. He grabbed your duffle and held your hand as you walked up the steps to the door. It was a cute little complex, Jungwon definitely got lucky to live in a place like this as a first year University student. You walked into their shared apartment and nervously smiled at the two boys lounging on their couch in the living room playing a random video game on their flat screen.

“Hey Y/N! Welcome!” Heeseung stood up, pausing his game to wrap his arms around you tightly, “it’s been a while!” He was much taller than Jungwon, his body engulfed yours with his hug. It was comforting, something about Heeseung and Jungwon’s hugs felt safe.

“Thanks for having me…” your eyes land on Sungoon who was sitting on the sofa still, manspreading, with his phone in his hand texting. “It’s nice to see you Sunghoon..” you try to break the tension with the quiet boy. “Hey.” his voice was monotone as he shifted his eyes from his screen to you, only for a second.

“I'm glad you’re here. The University dorms aren't safe right now.” Heeseung sighed, rubbing the sides of your arms soothingly, “I’m um..I’m really sorry to hear about your friend..”

You tensed and met his worried gaze, tears stinging your waterline. “I have to go to the bathroom..sorry..” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze and walking to Jungwon’s room before they could see you cry. You could hear Jungwon talk to Heeseung before you shut the door. Sitting on his bed you covered your mouth with your hand and cried trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. Fuck, this hurts so bad.

You stay like that for a few minutes trying to calm yourself, you knew Heeseung meant well, but hearing it makes it real. You weren’t ready to deal with it.

The cell phone you keep in your pocket starts to vibrate, Jen must have made it home. Pulling it out you see the UNKNOWN NUMBER flash on your screen. Maybe it’s Jen? She’s notorious for letting her phone die and was always quick to use whoever's phone that’s around her. It could be her parents phone she’s calling from.

“Hello? Jen?”

There’s a light static sound followed by a deep distorted chuckle, “hello, Bunny.”

The nickname had Yeonjun’s face flash in your brain before feeling the uncomfortable churn in your stomach. You were shaking, you clutched the phone harder in your hand turning your knuckles white.

“I-I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, Bunny, bunny, bunny. What am I going to do with you?”

You felt all the air leave your lungs and your chest felt like it was caving in. Shaking your head, you hang up the phone and throw it on Jungwon’s dresser. No fucking way. This was not happening. Was that..Ghostface? That couldn’t be Ghostface. No way.

Replaying the distorted voice saying ‘bunny’ over and over in your head was sending you spiraling. The once sweet nickname rolling off the tongue of the boy you wanted so badly was now being tainted by a monster. Choked sobs racked your body, how many more times could you break down before it was enough to kill you? How would he know that nickname? Nobody but Yeonjun ever called you that..was someone stalking you? Why is this happening? Oh, god..were you..next?

Panic.

“Wonnie?! Won?!” you yell sprinting out of the bedroom. Sunghoon watches you from the same spot on the couch with furrowed eyebrows as you frantically search the apartment for your best friend. Heeseung emerges from the kitchen in an apron and a mixing bowl full of salad in hand, “are you okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, you look like you’ve seen a ghost..” Sunghoon says, cocking his head to the side with a small humorless smile. Wait..what?

Jungwon walks into the apartment holding an empty laundry basket, "what's going on?" he asks as he sees your worried expression. He must have been in the laundry room. You run to him and wrap your arms around him tightly making him drop the basket, “please don’t leave me alone..” you softly beg still crying.

“Never baby, what’s wrong?” He asks gently, patting your hair and rubbing your back. You shake your head and bury your face in his neck. He doesn’t push it, he knows you’re vulnerable right now. He just assumes your tears are for Yeonjun.

“Dinner is almost ready, Y/N. You should try to eat something and you can sleep, you need it.” Heeseung softly says walking back to check on the food he’s cooking. “He’s right baby, you haven’t eaten all day and your body must be exhausted.” Jungwon whispers kissing your temple. How could you eat? After that? After everything? Do you tell Jungwon about the call?

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble looking up at him.

“Oh come on, Y/N. You need to eat something,” Sunghoon’s voice startled you. You look at him as he walks toward the kitchen, smirking at you, “you’ll need your strength.”

A loud vibration disturbs your slumber. You groan and try to ignore it, but it keeps going. You reach over to feel for Jungwon but he’s not in bed. Opening your eyes and squinting at his alarm clock, 2:47 a.m. Looking at his side of the bed, it's empty. Where was he? You fell asleep together..

The loud buzzing catches your attention again, you notice it's your phone on his dresser. It stops only for a few seconds before ringing again. Standing on shaky legs to walk to his dresser and pick it up but it stops ringing again. 7 missed calls. You jump when it starts vibrating again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

It was obvious whoever this was wasn’t going to let up anytime soon. You weren’t going to be a part of this. You powered the phone off and shoved it in the top drawer. You couldn’t deal with this, you were going back home first thing in the morning. Fuck this school, fuck these shitty detectives that couldn’t find this asshole, just fuck everything.

A harsh vibration startles you, causing you to jump and yelp. “Fuck!”

Jungwon’s phone on his nightstand lights up and starts ringing. There’s no fucking way..But panic creeps up your neck. Where is Jungwon? Does Ghostface have Jungwon?...Why else would he call both your phone numbers..

UNKNOWN NUMBER

You take a deep breath, you have to find Jungwon.

“Hello..?”

“Hello, Y/N. I want to play a game.” The voice distorted laughs. Your stomach drops, this is real.

“I’m hanging up..”

“If you hang up, I’ll slit your precious Jungwon’s throat.”

“W-wonnie?!” Your voice came out shaky. Your worst fears become reality, Ghostface had Jungwon.

Clutching the cell phone, you try to keep it together. You have to be strong.

“Wh-where is he?”

You step out of the bedroom into the living room in hopes he's there and this is some cruel prank. But, he's not there. The living room is dark, only the street lights giving a warm orange glow around the quiet home.

“I want to play a game, dumb baby.”

Your eyes land on Heeseung and Sunghoon’s closed bedroom doors, were they in danger too? Stepping forward to Heeseung’s door you reach out to grab the door knob. “If you touch that door I’ll kill your ‘Wonnie’ right now.” The distorted voice spat, making you freeze in place.

The realization that Ghostface could see you made you panic more. Frantically looking around the dark home for any sign of him. Walking in circles in hopes to see something, anything. “What do you want from me!?” You yell into the phone sobbing.

“I told you dumb baby, I want to play a game.”

There was no getting out of this, but you had to try. Jungwon wouldn’t abandon you and you couldn’t abandon him. “F-fine. But..but only if Jungown is safe.”

“He’ll be safe, as long as you win the game.”

“What game?” your voice barely whispers as you stand in the center of the living room. A loud creak from Won’s bedroom catches your breath in your throat.“...it's called catch the dumb baby”

Pure fear and adrenaline courses through your body carrying your feet faster than you could think and you run toward the front door. Throwing it open, you scream, there he was, Ghostface stood hovering over you. In his classic black robe and the famous white scream mask covered in dirt and speckles of dried blood. His head was tilted to the side, he had a syringe in hand, he shook his head looking at you.

“Dumb baby, you lose.”

Taking a cautious step back, you bump into a hard figure, turning your head only slightly only to see another Ghostface mask out of your peripheral vision. Standing just as tall as the one blocking the front door.

Fuck.

It all happened so fast, before you could blink or open your mouth to scream for help, the one behind you grabbed you, covering your mouth and pinning your arms to your side with one of his long arms. He maneuvered your face upward harshly exposing your neck to the Ghostface with the syringe. You felt the pin prick in your neck and your body slumped against the one holding you. Whatever they gave you was fast acting and you lost all movement in legs and arms. You slump against the Ghostface holding you, unable to stand on your feet.

I failed you Wonnie..I’m so sorry.

Your sobs are muffled behind his gloved hand, feeling yourself slowly slip away from reality.

Cold, that’s the first thing you felt. Your limbs feel heavy, mouth dry and head full of eye burning pressure. Everything is blurry and the only thing your vision can make out is the mattress on the floor you’ve been placed on, laid on your side. Realizing you’re also fully nude you try to move your limbs to cover your body and give it some warmth but they’re too heavy to move under whatever sedation they gave you.

“Our pretty girl is finally awake.”

Snapping your head to the bottom of the mattress your vision can make out the two figures standing at the edge. Their voices are no longer distorted but the masks are still on.

“Dumb baby made it too easy,”

Wait..that voice..He took his mask off first, shaking his hair out of his face. Bambi eyes fully drinking you in. It was terrifying how quickly the doe eyes you trusted narrowed darkly. No signs of innocence, just wild, black, and hungry. Heeseung..Heeseung was Ghostface, he’s the one that drugged you.

Looking at the other Ghostface figure, you already knew who it had to be..He took his mask off, throwing it to the side, a wide smile showing his fangs to you. The first time you had actually seen him smile with his teeth. The smile was anything but friendly. It was deranged and held no humor or comfort behind it. Sunghoon.

“What the fuck..” Your voice cracked and raw, it hurt to talk “Why..I trusted you..Won-wonnie trusted you.”

“Why? God, I hate that fucking question.” Sunghoon snorted, removing the black Ghostface robe off his body, leaving him shirtless and in black denim jeans. He really did, it pissed him off. They all sounded the same when he killed them, why me? What did I do? Why are you doing this? Blah, blah, blah.

“Does there really have to be a reason why?” Heeseung smiled, nose wrinkling. How could someone that looked as sweet as Heeseung do something like this?

“Stop teasing her Heeseung. We had a good reason to kill each one of those assholes, pretty girl, do you really want all the gory details?” Sunghoon smirked, cocking an eyebrow. You shook your head, you were already on the verge of puking. You didn’t want to know.

“Are you sure? Because...there was a special one in particular.. we had a really good reason why he had to die.” Heeseung said in a sing song voice.

Sunghoon dropped his smile and glared at Heeseung, they agreed not to bring him up. Not that he cared about him, or regretted it, he just didn’t want to make this harder than it had to be. Heeseung could feel Sunghoon’s glare on him, he didn’t care. It broke his heart when you agreed to that date, Heeseung spent the whole day crying and screaming when he found out. Really? Choi fucking Yeonjun.

You hurt him, and he wanted to hurt you back.

Heeseung dropped his body on the mattress and crawled down next to where you were laying and caressed your face gently, “you definitely should have turned down that date with that loser Yeonjun.” Heeseung said in a whisper. Despite the soft voice he used he was boiling in anger at saying that fuckers name. Heeseung took great pleasure in slitting that motherfucker's throat. He never liked getting messy, letting Sunghoon take most of the credit when it came to the murders, but when he heard you were going on a date with Choi fucking Yeonjun he wanted that kill. He craved it. You signed that poor bastard's death warrant when you said yes. Dumb baby.

God, the way his eyes looked when his blade went into his neck sent him on the most euphoric high he had ever been on. He didn’t mean to cut his neck so deep, but fuck, how dare that motherfucker even think he had the slightest chance to have you. Even watching him bleed out and choke on his blood wasn’t enough, he had to suffer. Driving his blade into his chest over and over until Sunghoon had to physically pull him off of that stupid fucker.

“You killed him..you killed Yeonjun..” you cried. You were the reason he was dead, it was your fault. “Oh god..Junnie..” You wanted to die, you didn’t deserve to live. You wanted to trade places with Yeonjun, he didn’t deserve that..How could Heeseung do something so vile?

His nickname has Heeseung seeing red. You dumb baby, are you really crying in front of me over him?! He grabbed his knife. “Heeseung,” Sunghoon warned. He wasn’t listening. He pushed your body flat down on the mattress and straddled your waist in a matter of seconds. He held his blade against your neck, the same one he used on him, he was shaking with anger. You had never seen this side of him, the snarl on his face, his eyes wild and black, his honey skin turning red, he was terrifying.

“What the fuck did you call him?” He pressed the knife harder against your skin, you cried out feeling the blade break skin. He watched his knife tear a thin layer into your skin, blood seeping out. Not enough to cause any major damage, just barely tearing through the first layer of skin. “Do I have to carve my name into your fucking skin so you know who you fucking belong to?!” He was screaming at you only inches from your face.

“Enough, Heeseung! Get off of her.” Sunghoon grabbed him by the back of his neck, shoving him aside. Heeseung always got a little too emotional when it came to you. Sunghoon had to keep him level headed or else any person who even accidentally looked in your direction would end up dead.

“Forgive him, pretty girl.” He kneeled next to you, “he’s just protective of you” Sunghood smiled wiping your falling tears. His fingers grazed the line Heeseung made on your throat, coating the tips of them with your blood. He brought them to his lips and licked them clean. Humming softly at the taste of metallic. He couldn’t resist, his body and soul desired to taste every part of you. The scene makes you want to gag in disgust.

Heeseung rubbed his temples and sighed, he didn’t mean to scare you. He looked at you apologetically. “Sorry sweetheart..I just don’t like you saying his name. You belong to us…and the thought of anyone touching or looking at what’s mine..makes me insane.” He leaned down to your neck and placed soft kisses on the cut he made. “Seungie will kiss it all better.” He mumbled against your skin.

You laid there emotionless. Had you missed signs of their obsession? Did you ever say something that gave them the wrong idea? You barely talked to them, why? Why is this happening?

Was this really your fault?

You were trapped here, Yeonjun was dead because of you and Jungwon is missing because of you. It was your fault.

“You know, pretty girl, I heard from a little bird that you think I hate you,” Sunghoon mused, twirling pieces of your hair around his fingers. He pushed Heeseung’s face off of your neck and climbed on top of you, caging you with his arms on either side of your face. You looked so scared and helpless underneath him and it was only turning him on even more.

“I don’t hate you, pretty girl, in fact I love you. I love you so much it's kind of scary. I crave you. I want every part of you. I want to fucking break you so we’ll be the only ones you’ll ever need.”

You just stared up at him as he spoke, you had never seen this side of him before. The stone features he always gave you were replaced by lustful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. “Do you know how hard it was to watch you all this time and not act on all of the things I dreamed about doing to you?”

Heeseung was lying next to you on his side, propping his head on his hand while watching Sunghoon stare down at you. Finally, you were here, they had you right where they wanted you. Everything they did was for you, their girl. “It’s true, we’ve talked about this for so long and now you’re finally here. It’s almost like a dream come true.” Heeseung grinned tracing your delicate facial features with his fingers.

“Wh-what are you going to do to me..” your broken voice going straight to their cocks.

“Now that..pretty girl..is a good fucking question.” Sunghoon smiled leaning down rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. Their “affectionate” touches felt anything but sweet. “What are we going to do with her Seung?” his voice condescending.

Heeseung chuckled softly and placed wet open mouth kisses on your shoulder down your arms, “I don’t even know where to start..but I’m growing impatient here..” Heeseungs’s hips grinded against your bare thigh and you could feel his hardening cock in his sweats. Fuck, he needed to calm down or he was going to cum before they even got to the good part.

“Me too..our pretty girl has kept us waiting long enough.” Sunghoon smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. Licking the streaks of wet tears on your cheeks. Reality hits you like lightning and your fight or flight finally kicks in at the realization. They’re going to rape you..

There was no way in hell you could take on two grown men, especially in your state, but you couldn’t go down without somewhat of a fight. Jungwon would want you to fight. You couldn't control your limbs, you could only twitch the tips of your fingers but you could roll your head, maybe that would be enough. Maybe.

You jerk your head as hard as you can toward Sunghoon’s face since he was closest to your head, it wasn’t a lot of force. But your forehead made direct contact with his nose, not enough to break but enough that had a few drops of blood trickle out and land on your cheek, he let out a slight groan from his throat.

Heeseung scoffed a laugh and shook his head. If you thought he was bad when he was mad..you weren’t ready for Sunghoon, “dumb baby, that was stupid of you.”

Sunghoon wiped the blood from his nose on the back of his hand before making eye contact with you again, his gaze was unreadable which made it more scary. His hand shoots out at you and harshly grabs your neck and squeezes, cutting off your air supply abruptly. He brought your your face closer to his, “I was going to be nice and take it slow with you pretty girl, but you fucked that up..” His voice is low and slow and his demeanor shifted.

You couldn’t breathe and your face was turning red from the lack of oxygen, your choking sounds and wet cheeks only turning Sunghoon on more. Wet gurgling sounds, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t even lift your arms to try and pry him off of you. Fuck, he needed to get his cock into you fast. He let your neck go but before you could catch your breath he slapped you, with so much force it jerked your head to the side.

“Hoon, we agreed not her face!” Heeseung scoffed, grabbing your face softly placing soft kisses against the cheek Hoon backhanded you on. Heeseung was all for forceful punishment to keep you in your place, but never on your face. Why would he want to hit something so perfect? He told Sunghoon that, never your face, any other part of your body was fair game.

“I didn’t agree to shit Heeseung, if she’s going to act like a fucking brat I’m going to treat her like one.” Sunghoon moved his body up, carefully placing his knees on both sides of your arms hovering over your chest, careful to not drop any of his weight on you. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them low enough to release his aching cock from its restraint.

You turned your head to the side in a panic and squeezed your eyes shut refusing to look at him. “Please..please Hee-Heeseung..don’t let him..don’t let him do this..please..” you sobbed. It was clear Sunghoon was the one in charge and Heeseung would be your only chance at a saving grace. If you could, you wanted to reach any remorseful part of him to help you.

He smiled softly and stroked your stinging cheek turning your head to face him. You opened your eyes hoping to see him take your cries and begs into consideration. “Dumb baby, you were a bad girl. We don’t want to punish you but you’re going to have to learn the rules. And rule one is to be a good girl for us. You were naughty for hitting Hoonie, after everything he’s done to keep you safe. You're going to have to make it up to him.” Kissing your sore cheek he looks up at Sunghoon with his big doe eyes and nods.

Sunghoon grabs a fistful of your hair and jerks your head straight forcing you to look up at him, “I’m going to train you to be a good obedient girl…you bite me, and I’ll slit Jungwon’s throat in front of you.” Bottom lip trembling you nod. They knew you would do anything for Jungwon’s safety, and they were going to use that to their advantage. Letting go of your hair his hand runs down your face softly taking in every beauty mark, eyelash, and the smear of his blood on your cheek. So fucking pretty.

He taps your bottom lip with his thumb, “open.”

Closing your eyes, you refuse to even look at him while he does this, you obey. He leans forward positioning himself over your open mouth, tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. Steadying himself with his right hand he uses his left to guide himself into your mouth. A long strained groan rumbles in his throat, your mouth felt better than he imagined. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He drags the underside of his cock on your tongue slowly before quickly forcing his full length in your mouth.

He’s careful to not slam his full weight onto your face with each drag of his cock. The amount of spit and precum forced down your throat made you gag around him struggling to breath, but your noises made him fuck your face faster, salty fat tears pooling into your ears.

He continued to pull out and thrust his aching cock back in, making sharp painful jabs down your throat. The way your mouth gagged and struggled around him only had his orgasm approaching quicker. His pace grew more unsteady and quick as he felt his high approaching. You tried your best to relax your throat around him, but it was too uncomfortable and the way his stomach hit the tip of your nose with each hard thrust only added to your misery. “O-oh fuck,” he grunted and forced himself even deeper into your throat, your nose completely smushed against his stomach blocking all your airways.

His cum spilled from his cock and down your throat as you struggled not to choke. You swallowed as much as you could in a panic trying to find a way to breathe. Some of it seeped out of the sides of your mouth and down your chin. His body shuddered at the tight contraction of your throat, he stilled himself for a few seconds to catch his breath.

He pulled himself out of your mouth slowly, watching the strings of spit and his seed connect his softening cock to you. What a sight for sore eyes, he can’t imagine an even more perfect vision of you as he watched you cough and choke trying to catch your breath. He climbs off of you and lays beside you to really take a minute to admire how perfect you look right now. Your face is red, spit and cum dribbling from your chin, tears still falling. He wanted to burn this image of you in his head forever. He tapped your mouth with his index finger, “open.”

You open your mouth. Sunghoon smiles, you’re listening. Maybe breaking you in was going to be easier than he thought. Leaning in he licks his cum and your spit from your chin before sticking his tongue in your mouth, making sure every part of your mouth tastes entirely of him.

“You did good, pretty girl,” He mumbles, “made me feel so fucking good..”pulling away and pecking your lips softly. He smiles and looks at Heeseng on the opposite side of you. “You can reward her.”

Heeseung smiles brightly and practically jumps on top of you. Immediately latching his mouth to yours, Sunghoon notices you’re not kissing him back and clicks his teeth. “Pretty girl, don’t be rude, Seungie is trying to reward you. Do you want to be punished again? Or should I go grab Jung-”

You don’t let him finish, squeezing your eyes shut you kiss Heeseung back, you need to. You needed to for Jungwon. You can feel Heeseung smile against your puckered lips. Lightly nipping your bottom lip before he slips his tongue inside and gently massages yours. Unlike Sunghoon, Heeseung was softer and took his time exploring your mouth. Not even caring Sunghoon’s cum was just in there he happily slurped everything his tongue swiped.

You kissed him back like your life depended on it..because it did..Jungwon was your life..

He pulls away with a small hum, a string of spit still connecting your tongues together. “I wonder if every part of you tastes as sweet as your mouth..” He kisses your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. His eyes locked onto yours as he moved lower, his face hovering over your left breast. He lightly traces your nipple with the tip of his tongue and smirks at the way your body shivers underneath him and how your back slightly arches off the mattress, Sunghoon catches it too.

Heeseung smiles at you sweetly before moving even lower. “I’m going to make you feel so good..” He slots himself between your legs and places your legs over his shoulders. He kisses the inside of your thigh, “I love you..so much..” The “loving” act only adds insult to injury in the situation. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t force you to do this.

Hesseung dragged his tongue along your folds and you squirmed. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed against your core. The amount of times he's snuck into your dorm and stolen your dirty panties to shove in his mouth while he jerked off couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. Only a few seconds in and he was already pussy drunk on your taste and smell.

You bit down on your bottom lip hard as he worked slowly through your folds; teasing you as he flicked his tongue across your clit. Your fingers dug into the mattress, your knuckles turning white. You refuse to make a sound..you won’t give them the satisfaction. Heeseung watches you as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. The first moan accidentally slips past your lips at the sensation. You couldn’t withhold the pathetic noise you made and you felt shame. Your breath hitched and your eyelids started to flutter as his tongue skillfully worked its way through your folds licking and sucking every crevice before dipping into your hole. He groans loudly, as he starts to tongue fuck your hole feeling you clench around him. His hips started grinding against the mattress aching for some relief on his cock.

Sunghoon studies your face, he knows you're holding back. “It feels good doesn't it pretty girl..let him hear more of those pretty sounds.” You glare at him, but you know your body is betraying you. Your face is flushed, legs shaking around his head, stomach caving in every time he hits that special spot. “Let Seungie…” He grabs a handful of Heeseung’s hair and presses him harder against your cunt, “hear you.”

You screw your eyes shut and moan at the newly applied pressure of Heeseung’s nose on your clit. Heeseung’s hooded eyes watch you as you arch and moan out. He pulls away slightly and spits on your pussy, adding more moisture before running the pads of his fingers through your folds making you shudder harder and throw your head back. He collects his spit and your arousal around his pointer and middle finger before shoving both of them inside of you.

“Ah!”

“Stretch her nice and good Seungie..”Sunghoon smiled, leaning down and capturing your lips in another dirty kiss of tongue and teeth. The room filled with the disgusting squelching sounds of your pussy around Heeseungs fingers. Heeseung’s tongue went back to working on your clit as continued to finger fuck you at a fast relentless pace. He could feel how close you were by the way you were gripping him. You tried to hold it, you tried to move your hips away, he just held your waist down with his free hand and sucked harder. Against your will, it happened, your stomach concaved and you cried out in Sunghoon’s mouth feeling your forced release gush out of you. Sunghoon pulled away from your mouth so he could watch your face when you cum.

So pretty.

The way you sounded was enough to make Heeseung cum in his pants. “Fuck, I need to be inside of you right now..” Loud sobs rack your body, this was it..”do-don’t do this..” Heeseung stripped quickly, not bothering to wipe your cum off of his face. “Hee-Heeseung, please..please don’t..”

Sunghoon sighed and kissed your forehead, “pretty girl, Seungie let you cum, don’t be rude. Be a good girl and let him cum too..I don’t want to have to kill Jungwon because of you. This is supposed to be a special night.”

Jungwon. You had to for Jungwon.

“Not-not inside. Don't cum.. Not inside..please..”

He looked at Heeseung, and they shared an unspoken conversation through their eyes. “Okay, pretty girl. Seungie won’t cum inside of you..tonight..”

Heeseung ran his hand up and down his length, lubricating himself with his precum. He placed his thick cock head at your entrance and you whimpered from sensitivity from your orgasm. He pushed into you sharply. You gasped, screwing your eyes shut as he forced himself all the way to his base, allowing no time for you to adjust his large size.

“Oh my god…” He panted, closing his eyes. His self control is no longer present, he pulled out of you slowly and slammed back in setting a pace. He was thrusting into you just as violently as he had entered you, his pace was unrelenting as he worked into your tight gummy walls. You whined with each jolt of force from his thrusts. Your back arched in pain, fingernails clawing helplessly at the mattress. You could hear the change in his breathing signaling he was nearing his own release. At least he was fast, this would be over soon.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, of course Heeseung was going to cum already, he didn’t know how to pace himself. But more annoying, he was going to finish before you, treating you like some quick random hookup. He was going to have to talk to him about that later. To Sunghoon, your pleasure came before theirs, unless of course you were being punished. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on the bud and slipped his hand down to your cunt.

His skillful fingers found your clit and he rubbed the nub tenderly, applying the perfect amount of pressure. The pain from Heeseung’s cock quickly turned into pleasure. Your pained squeaks and whines tuning into soft moans and pants. Heeseung’s hands went to your waist as he held your hips in place rutting against you faster. Your eyes fluttered shut as you started to shake under him, unable to fend off the building orgasm, thanks to Sunghoon. Small grunts escaping his parted lips, the only sound he was capable of making. He was too lost in the feel of your pussy.

“Cum on Seungie’s cock pretty girl..” Sunghoon smiled, releasing your nipple from his mouth. He rubbed your clit harder causing a loud moan to bubble from you. Your back arched off the mattress as you were suddenly overwhelmed with white hot pleasure, his fingers helping draw forth your second orgasm.

So fucking pretty.

You clenched hard around Heeseung as you came, he snapped his hips forward harshly and a deep whine escaped his lips. He hung his head back and pulled out of you quickly, he hissed wrapping his hand around his red sensitive cock and jerked himself off above you. His cum spurting out of the red tip, strings of his seed coating your stomach, and reaching your breasts.

His chest rose fast and hard as he collapsed next to you, sweat gathered on his forehead, he smiled softly at you. “Thank you baby..so good..so good for me..” He mumbled kissing your lips in soft little pecks. Sunghoon grabbed one of their discarded Ghostface robes and wiped Heeseung’s cum off of you. “Excuse him, pretty girl, he apparently doesn’t know how to be a gentleman.”

“Fuck you,” Heeseung grumbled. “I couldn’t help it, she’s so tight and warm.” He hummed relishing in the way your sweet little pussy gripped his tongue, fingers, and cock. He wasn’t phased by how quickly he came, he has all the time in the world to learn your body and how to pace himself. All the time in the world.

You felt disgusting at the way they have your body reacting to their touches.

Sunghoon discarded the rest of his clothes away and took his position on his knees in between your aching legs. You blinked a few tears away, you already knew he was going to have his turn with you but it didn’t stop the fear. You had to do this. They had Jungwon and you were his only chance at making it out of this alive.

You made the mistake of looking down at him and let out a shaky breath. He was ready for you; he was fully hard and throbbing, from the way your mouth struggled to accommodate him you knew this was going to hurt. He saw the worried look on your face and cupped your cheek, “it won’t hurt after a while. I’m going to train your little pussy how to take it pretty girl. Hoonie’s going to take care of you.”

He kissed you tenderly, “I love you.”

He feels your legs twitch around him, and sees your arms twitch at your sides, only meaning the drug will be wearing off soon. He didn’t want you to realize that and start acting out again, he smiled at Heeseung, “Seungie will you hold our girl for me? She’s a little nervous and maybe you can comfort her.”

Heeseung was more than happy to oblige. He moved to the side of the mattress and sat with his back against the wall. Sunghoon picked your body up and moved you over to Heeseungs awaiting arms. He sits you with your back and head pressed against Heeseung’s firm chest, Heeseung hooks his hands under your knees and spreads your legs open wide for Sunghoon. Hit bites his bottom lip at the sinful sight of you sprawled out like this waiting for him. Your wet and swollen pussy only looks more appetizing for him when you're being held like this.

“Keep her there Seung,” He smirks gripping the base of his cock as he moved closer to you. He rubbed the tip along your folds, coating it in your juices. Your body jerks at the sensitivity from your previous two orgasms.

“Be a good girl for Hoonie, and he’ll give you a special treat.” Heeseung whispered, kissing the crown of your head. Unless the treat was Jungwon you didn’t care. You wanted this over fast, you prayed he’d be as fast as Heeseung.

Sunghoon watches you intently as he slides into your tight cunt. A low rumble in his chest feeling you suck him in and tighten. “Fuck....” He bottoms out and it hurts how full you are. More tears spill from your eyes, your mouth dropped in a silent scream. He can see the outline of his cock in your stomach and it fuels his fire.

“Look at that, I'm all the way..” He presses down on the bulge of his cock under your belly button, “in here.” You involuntary moan at the pressure and you clench around him.

He chuckles as he starts to move. Every movement from him has him deeper inside you. Your walls unwillingly cling to him and you close your eyes not wanting to see him. You want so desperately to mentally check out and forget where you and what's happening to you, but you can’t as he brings you back to the harsh reality with each burning thrust.

“God, pretty girl, you feel so good..” The sounds of your bodies slapping together, the disgusting sloppy squelching sounds of your pussy only fueling his animalistic desires. He wasn’t gentle with you, each thrust inside of you jerked your entire body upward and had you sliding up and down on Heeseung’s chest. You were still sore from Heeseung’s assault on you and the pain of Sunghoon’s thick cock ramming into you had your entire pelvic region burning. Whimpering louder each time he rocked into you.

“Look at me,” He growled.

You hesitantly open your eyes and look at his sweaty face, he watches you with hooded dark eyes, he has an odd look in his eye. The same one Heeseung sees when Sunghoon has his blade buried in someone. He was gone.

“Say my name.”

“W-Wha-”

He slaps you, the action splitting your lip open. You cry out and try to move but Heeseung’s grip on your legs is firm, keeping you open for Sunghoon’s continued assault on your pussy. He thrusts into you harder, gripping your hips hard, digging his fingers into your flesh, bruising the skin. “Say my fucking name. NOW!”

“S-Sun-Sungho-hoon..” Blood is dribbling from your wounded lip down your chin.

“Again!”

“Sunghoon!”

“Keep saying it..” He grunts.

Lowering his face to yours he licks the blood from your chin. Watching you shake and write underneath him had his orgasm nearing. He guides your hips up and down on his shaft, impaling you deeper on him with each painful thrust on his thick cock. Groaning at the sight of your creamy essence coating him, he wasn’t going to last long. He gave a particular hard thrust that had you squealing and kicking your legs, a cheshire grin taking over his face.

He found it.

He keeps hitting that spot with all of his strength and watches the way your eyes cross and roll back helplessly. You’re screaming his name over and over, it was happening again. The knot in your belly is ready to snap. “Cum for me..cum for me and I’ll breed you..” He breathes reaching between your bodies and rubbing circles on your clit with the pad of this tumb.

“NO!” you screamed, “you-you said-”

He laughs breathlessly, throwing his head back. Heeseung gave you the appropriate nickname, you really were just a dumb baby. He rubs your nub harder, “pretty girl, I said Seungie wouldn’t cum in you..I never said I wouldn’t cum inside of you..cum for me..come on baby..let go for us..”

The tip of his cock hits your spot and you squeak loudly, unable to stop it, throwing your head back on Heeseung’s chest letting your orgasm hit you hard. Your body convulses as you clench around Sunghoon coating the entirety of his cock in your release. He chokes out a moan, thrusting only a few more times before he stills, painting your insides with his thick white cum. Sealing your fate to him, to them. You’re theirs and you weren’t going anywhere.

Heeseung held your shaking body closely as you tried to catch your breath. He was whispering sweet praises in your ears and kissing your wet cheeks, “such a good girl for us. So perfect..tell Hoonie thank you for your treat..”

“Th-thank you..Ho-Hoonie..”

Sunghoon smiled widely at his nickname rolling off your tongue, he gently pulled out of your sore cunt and smirked looking at the creamy mess leaking out of your gaping hole, “you’re very welcome pretty girl.” He kissed you tenderly, lightly licking at the remaining blood left on your busted lip.

A few minutes had passed and the post orgasm brain fog was finally clearing and you gasped remembering Jungwon. Lifting your head off of Heeseung’s chest and searching around the dark room panicked. Sunghoon was still kneeling in front of you and Heeseung, he watched your panicked gaze with an amused smirk. He wasn’t stupid he knew what you remembered.

“Where is he? Wh-where is Jungown? Can I see him..please..” You asked slowly, afraid of the answer.

A small breathless laugh left Heeseungs lips, Sunghoon moved from his place in front of you and sat next to you and Heeseung. He grabbed your chin forcing you to look to the side of the room at the dark corner.

“Ah..pretty girl, why don’t you see for yourself.”

The big “finale” was finally being unveiled. He wasn’t lying earlier when he told you he wanted to break you so all you would ever need is them.

What? What was he talking about? Jungwon was here? Squinting your eyes to adjust to the darkness you saw him. Sunghoon smiled widely watching your eyes slowly widen with realization, your mouth dropped open and you screamed. The room was spinning, all the air knocked out of your lungs as you felt the bile rise in your throat as you cried and wailed against Heeseung trying to push him off of you, but he kept his grip tight on you.

You wish they would have just killed you, death would have been better than this.

Jungown sat in a wooden chair smiling in your direction softly, holding a camcorder. His eyes trained on the tiny camcorder screen before finally looking at you.

“What’s wrong bunny, aren't you happy to see me?”

#hoonieshoney #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #lee heesung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #kpop smut #the hunt is on #honeys dark content

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marvelfanfics1 · 1 month

Note

omg omg idk if u take requests if u are can you do a winter soldier x little reader? maybe like bucky somehow gets into the winter soldier mode and is scary towards everyone else but the reader (like he goes soft for the reader)😭

Code: Winter

Pairing: daddy!Bucky x little!reader

Warnings: age regression, soft!Winter Soldier, mentions of guns, angst?, some fluff

⭒𖥸⭒

You whined when your nap got interrupted by the blarring alarm and constant repeating words 'code winter'.

Holding your hands over your ears you turned on your other side, expecting your daddy to lay beside you reading a book but frowned when you found his side of the bed empty.

Grabbing your stuffie you got up from your comfortable bed, making your way to the door and opening it slightly, peeking your head out.

You saw several agents and trainees running past your room, all seeming rather panicked and your little mind can't grasp the thought of there being a reason, or someone, for them being so scared, instead your curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and look for yourself.

Meanwhile in the common area Steve was trying to console Bucky with Sam and Natasha behind him, aiming their weapons at him.

"Buck, come on, you know us-" Steve placed his shield down, trying to show he's no threat to the soldier.

"Steve! Look out!" Natasha shouted all three of them throw themselves to the side when the couch was being thrown their way.

Just as the soldier started approaching them he got send back by a repulsor shot from Tony who flied in just in time, in his iron man suit.

"That was a 2 thousand dollar couch, Terminator."

The soldier now grabbed the gun he had tucked in the waistband of his pants, aiming it at Tony when a small voice had them all turning their heads.

"Daddy...?" Your bottom lip trembling you held your stuffie close to your chest, not understanding why he was being mean to your aunt and uncles. "What you doin'?"

The soldier slowly made his way towards you, aiming his his gun straight at Steve when he took a step forward.

While walking to you the voice in his head he kept pushing away became even louder than before.

Do. Not. Hurt. Her. I dare you.

When he stood before you he tilted his head at the tear that was rolling down your cheek, his metal hand reaching up to wipe it away gently. In the deepest of his mind he knows you're no threat to him and picked you up with his metal arm placing you on his hip, his other hand still aiming the gun at the others to keep them at a good distance while walking out of the room.

The others all let out a sigh, still not at ease knowing the freaking Winter Soldier has you with him with no supervision.

"What are we gonna do now? If we step one foot in their room we'll have a bullet in our head." Sam said crossing his arms.

"He won't hurt her." Steve assured them.

"And how do you know that?" Tony laughed at him.

"I just know, alright. As much as the Winter Soldier wanted to, he couldn't. Bucky would never let that happen, even in this state."

"You better be right, Capsicle." Tony pointed a finger at him.

Back in your room, you were sitting on his lap, trying to analyze his expressions but there were none. Cold and dull eyes where staring at you, not the bright blue ones that you got used to and loved so much.

"You not daddy?" You asked, nervously playing with a lose seam of your stuffie.

When he shook his head you frowned a little. It confused you how he can be the Bucky you've known for years now but also doesn't at the same time. It's like talking to a clone, a much more colder one at that but still you can't help but feel safe in his arms.

The soldier doesn't like to see you upset, some inner part of him feels the need to comfort you in any way possible.

"Call me papa." He said with a russian accent and your face lit up at that, glad you didn't lost your caregiver completely.

You nod with a small smile, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, your interrupted nap now catching up with you.

"Love you, papa." You mumbled, yawning before finally closing your eyes again.

The soldier hummed in response, his metal hand rubbing subconsciously on your back and feeling your body relaxing against his.

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Bucky:

@almostcontentcreator

Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!!

#little!reader #little reader #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy!bucky barnes #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy bucky barnes x little reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky barnes #daddy bucky x little reader #winter soldier x little reader #winter soldier x little!reader

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roosterforme · 5 months

Text

Brighter Than a Supernova | Bob Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister

Summary: Bob planned to simply stop by Phoenix's Hanukkah party for a few minutes before heading back home. He'd hang out with the guys for a bit, even though he never quite felt like he fit in with them, and he'd meet the little sister Phoenix often referred to as annoying. But he had no idea how bright and magical one night could be compared to every other night that had come before.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, feeling insecure, loss of virginity, smut, drinking

Length: 9000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister (OC)

This was written for the Winter RomCom Challenge hosted by @bellaireland1981! Check my masterlist for more. Beautiful banner made by @ryebecca

"Bob, you're coming over tomorrow night, right?"

When he turned to look at his friend, Bob couldn't help the feeling of apprehension that washed over him. "I think so."

Natasha sighed and reached for his hand and gave him a little squeeze. He hadn't been at Top Gun as long as everyone else, and he felt like he didn't really fit in with them. Even now, the other guys were all hooting and playing keep away with Reuben's phone while Bob stood off to the side on the tarmac.

"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just a Hanukkah party," she whispered with a smile. She always seemed to be able to tell when he got lost in his own thoughts, and he would be forever grateful that she was the pilot he got to fly with.

He shook his head and looked over at their Super Hornet. "I've never been to one before," he muttered. "And I'll probably just end up sitting quietly all night."

Now Natasha was squeezing both of his hands. "But we already drew names for our gift exchange. And you won't be the only one newer to the group. My obnoxious little sister, Nova, is coming in from New York, remember? She's graduating from college in the spring? She hasn't met any of the guys yet."

"But-"

"Bob, I really want you to come," she said firmly, looking up at him with her dark brown eyes. He trusted her in the air, he might as well trust her on the ground, too.

"Okay. I'll be there."

But when Bob parked his truck in front of Phoenix's tiny house on Saturday evening, his hands were shaking slightly as he held the wrapped gift. He absolutely hated that he got this way around the guys. They hadn't done anything to make him feel this way, really. He just generally didn't fit in anywhere, something he was very aware of at age twenty eight. But he would do this for Natasha.

He climbed out of his truck with the gift and a bottle of wine and walked up to the front door. Should he knock? Or just walk inside? It sounded noisy even out here, so after he tapped on the door a few times and nobody opened it, he just let himself in.

"Bob's here!" Jake called out from the couch, waving him over to where he was drinking a beer while Javy tried to spin two dreidels at the same time.

"Bob!" Natasha practically shouted as she ran his way. He had to juggle the bottle of wine so he didn't drop it. "Can you help me make latkes? Nova and I have been peeling potatoes for what feels like hours, and now we're heating up the oil."

"I don't know how to make latkes," he told her, but his eyes caught on the woman standing in the kitchen laughing at Bradley. He could only see her profile, but she had long, dark brown hair just like Natasha. Only she was a little taller and a bit curvier, and when she turned to look over her shoulder, he wanted to run and hide.

"It's easy, Bob. It's just a potato pancake. Nothing scary," Natasha whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "Come meet Nova, and you can help us cook."

He swallowed hard, realizing that the brunette goddess holding a potato peeler in one while she smiled directly at him was Natasha's little sister. The one she always referred to as obnoxious and annoying. This was... decidedly not what he had imagined.

Bob didn't know where to look. Every part of her was so pretty. She was wearing black leggings and a cropped long sleeve shirt that was purple and said NYU on the front. He could see some of the soft looking skin just above her leggings, and his eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment. She was barefoot with neon orange painted toenails that for some reason made Bob a little short of breath.

"Bob, this is my sister Nova," Nat told him, rubbing his back gently as his gaze wandered back up along her curves. His eyes landed on her face as Natasha said, "Nova, this is Bob. Please don't annoy him."

"Hi," she said with a little smirk on her face. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and reached her hand out to him. "I've heard a lot about you, Bob."

He was terrified that he would stutter or trip over his words, but he just said something stupid instead. "You don't look annoying."

She laughed as she shook his hand. "Oh, I can assure you, I am." Her eyes were the same color as her sister's, but they were looking at him playfully as she nibbled on her lip. It was easy to tell Nova and Natasha were sisters, but there were some differences, too. Bob had the fleeting thought that he wouldn't mind just looking at her all night until he identified them all.

"Feel free to ignore her," Nat told him as she went to stand in front of the stove. "I usually do."

"I don't see how that would be possible," Bob murmured, and Nova laughed again before he realized what he'd said. He could feel his cheeks flush as he tried to look at anything besides her, but as soon as he did, Bradley dove for her attention.

"So tell me all about New York CIty," he said as if he'd never heard of it before. This was fine though. Better even. Nova and Bradley could just flirt all night, and Bob could help cook and then probably leave soon. That way everyone would win.

After a few minutes, he desperately wanted to ask Natasha if they could cook any faster so he could open his impersonal gift from one of the guys and get going. But he found that making latkes was actually pretty enjoyable.

"That's too much egg," she told him, laughing at his messy hands as his glasses slid down his nose. "You need more flour." But her hands were a mess, too, and Bob was trying to adjust his glasses on his shoulder.

When he turned to the side, he saw Bradley, Mickey and Jake all talking to Nova, but she was actually looking right at him as he very awkwardly shrugged his shoulder against his glasses. "I got you, Bob," she said, closing the distance to him and helping him out. She adjusted his frames on his face, and then she ran her fingers along his hair and behind his ears. "Better?"

He watched her pull her hands away and wished she wouldn't. "Yes," he whispered. "Thank you." Then he just stared at her as she made no move to back away.

"You're welcome. Do you celebrate Hanukkah?"

He swallowed hard as he washed his hands and shook his head. "This is my... first time."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Perfect! You can help me light the candles, and I can teach you the prayers."

"Might as well light the menorah now," Natasha told her as she flipped some of the squishy looking potato blobs over in the hot oil. The kitchen smelled like fried food, and there was a huge box of donuts that the other guys already got into. Javy brought the dreidels into the kitchen, and he was currently spinning five at one time. This holiday actually didn't seem so bad. Especially when Nova reached for his hand.

"Gather around," she announced with the kind of confidence Bob would never have, and all the guys followed her to the other side of the island. But she kept Bob right there with her and smiled up at him. "Here you go," she said, handing him the lighter. Then she stuck some candles in the menorah.

"Don't you light them from left to right?" Bradley asked as he sipped a beer and ate a jelly donut while glaring at Bob.

"Yes!" she replied as she put the last candle in for the eighth night.

"You want me to light them for you, Bob?" Bradley asked, and Bob was just about to hand the lighter over when Nova reached for his hand.

"I'm going to say a really pretty prayer in Hebrew about how Hanukkah is a time to celebrate miracles," she told him, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys as Jake started whining that he was hungry. But Bob was transfixed. He was suddenly dying to hear this prayer. He could see the light smattering of freckles on Nova's cheeks as he stood this close to her. He never noticed before if Nat had freckles.

It would be a Hanukkah miracle if Bob could get through the evening. When she told him to light the center candle and then pick it up, he did. And then her hand joined his as they lit the candles together, but Bob wasn't looking at the menorah. He was looking at her face and the way her lips moved as she almost sang the prayer. Then he kept his hand on hers as long as he could, the warm candlelight making her face glow.

When she dropped her hand to her side, Bob could feel her fingers kind of tangle with his, and he had no idea what to do about it. He was suddenly painfully aware that he'd never had a girlfriend before, and he almost wished she was paying this much attention to someone else.

"Latkes are done!" Natasha announced, and Bob took a step away from Nova. He cleared his throat and then turned to leave the kitchen as everyone else made a dash for the food. When he retreated for the relative quiet of the powder room, he could feel dark eyes on his back.

Bob realized he'd been in the bathroom for long enough that someone might think he was sick, but he couldn't stop splashing cool water on his face. He had been prepared for something else tonight, but not this. Maybe Nova was just an annoying little sister to Phoenix, but to him, she was exquisite. He needed to leave now before he could embarrass himself more.

After he dried his hands, he quietly opened the door, but then he paused. He could hear voices. Two female voices, and he could easily tell them apart as he stood there eavesdropping.

"Natasha, you lied to me," Nova whispered loudly. "You said Bob was kind of nerdy!"

Oh no. She must have thought Bob was extremely nerdy. Perhaps he could make a run for the front door, and maybe nobody would notice he'd gone.

"I mean, he is," Natasha replied softly.

"No, he's not!" Nova hissed. "He's hot! You know I have a thing for glasses and biceps, you rotten liar!"

Now Bob was frozen in place. He was pretty sure they were talking about him, but there was a chance he misheard.

"Nova," Natasha snapped a little louder this time. "Bob is one of my best friends, and he's very kind. Do not toy with him."

There was a pause, but then Bob heard her soft response. "I wouldn't. You can tell how sweet he is from a mile away."

He looked in the mirror one more time before leaving the powder room. It wasn't that he was bad looking, it was just that he was awkward. Compared to the other guys, he was a joke. Maybe Nova somehow hadn't noticed that yet. He forced himself out to the small hallway where the two sisters were standing close together near the kitchen, and the way Nova looked at him just didn't make sense.

"Grab some latkes," she said as he walked past. "I'll save you a spot on the couch for the gift exchange?"

Bob swallowed hard. "Sure. Thank you."

When he ducked into the kitchen, he heard her whisper to Nat, "He has nice manners, too."

Nat groaned. "I can't believe you have a crush on my WSO."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have kept this information from me."

Bob was anxiously piling a plate with more latkes than he could probably finish when Nova flounced into the room, picked up her half empty glass of wine along with an unused one and winked at him. "I'll be in the living room, and I have a glass for you," she said.

He looked down at the potato concoctions on his plate, and they looked good. He tried a bite, and it was delicious, but he'd lost his appetite. Nova Trace had a crush on him, and now he had to go sit with her and drink some wine without looking like a moron.

After a few more bites, he pushed his plate aside and headed to the living room where she was sitting right next to Bradley. He had his arm draped across the back of the couch a little possessively, and Bob froze, blinking at the scene before him. He had the undeniable urge to remove Bradley's arm and wrap her up with own.

"Bob," she called, scooting away from Bradley and patting the cushion. Once he squeezed in between her and Bradley, he realized he was touching her no matter what he did. And then she took his arm and draped it around her shoulders, leaning back against his chest a little bit. "It's a tight fit," she said, handing him a glass of wine.

"Seriously?" Bradley grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. Bob wasn't sure what to say as he had an armful of the cute girl who was in demand. This was all new to him. So he just drank all of his wine and pretended to watch everyone open their gifts.

When he set his empty glass down on the table, Nat handed him a small box wrapped in silver paper. He didn't recognize the pretty handwriting that said To: Bob.

"Oh," Nova whispered, reaching for it. "You don't have to open it."

"It's from you?" Bob asked, and she looked up at him over her shoulder, face just inches from his.

"Yeah, but it just seems kind of dumb now," she muttered, playing with the hem of her top. "Nat made it seem like you were super nerdy or something," she laughed. "And clearly that's not the case. You're hot."

Bob chuckled; this whole entire night was completely absurd. "I've never been called hot before."

Nova rolled her eyes. "You know what? Just go ahead and open your present," she said, shoving the small box closer to his chest while she blushed.

Bob started to carefully tear into the paper when Bradley leaned across Bob and asked, "I'm sorry, Nova, but did you just call Bob hot?"

"Yes," she replied immediately.

Bradley stood and grunted while he put on the hat that Javy just gave him that said 100% Certified Fuckboy. "She picked Bob. Nice work man," he said, patting Bob's shoulder. "Who needs a beer?"

"I do," Nat told him as she eyed Bob and Nova together on the couch with curiosity. Bob wasn't sure what he should even say to her. It wasn't like he was going to date her sister or something. She lived in New York.

"Open it," Nova whispered. "Just open it so I can get my embarrassment over with."

Bob couldn't believe she seemed more embarrassed about the gift than she did about announcing to the room at large that she found him attractive. When he took the lid off the box and looked inside, it was filled with a set of sky blue dice.

"I'm sorry," she said with a laugh. "Nat said you play Dungeons and Dragons, and I found the dice and thought they were pretty, and now I'm noticing that they're kind of the same shade as your eyes." She took the box from him, put the lid on and set it aside.

"Wait," he said, reaching across her to pick it up again. "I do play. And light blue is my favorite color. How did you know?"

"I didn't," she said, cheeks pink. "It's my favorite color, too."

He could see her freckles again as she grinned so close to him. Bob suddenly realized that the living room was getting loud as he held the box between his body and hers. "Thank you. I really like them. I was a little afraid to see what the guys were going to buy for me, so I'm glad it was from you."

"Nat dropped down on the couch on the other side of Bob as she spun the keychain around her finger that Bob got for her. "Thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek as the airplane charm hit her palm. The guys were spinning as many dreidels on the coffee table as they could while fighting over the mound of chocolate candy coins. "You know, if it's a little too loud, you could always step outside for a minute," she told him, patting his thigh before joining the guys.

"Let's take a break," Nova said as she stood and pulled him to his feet. Bob felt like Nat had just given him some sort of permission. But for what? "I could use a break as well. It's hot in here."

She opened the front door and slipped out into the darkness on the small porch, and Bob joined her, closing the door and stifling the sounds inside. "Aren't your feet going to get cold?" he asked softly, looking down at her neon toenails.

"Good call," she replied before wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tops of his shoes. Bob's hands went to the soft curve of her waist immediately, startled by the sudden turn of events that had Nova's body pressed to his. "Is this okay?" she asked casually, looking up at him as she let her fingers trail down his neck.

His body was throbbing in delight as his brain cried out in terror. "Y-Yes. It's... very okay. You're very pretty." His eyes went wide as she laughed, and it sounded too intimate this close. He could feel her bare skin against his fingertips, and it was so soft. Softer than anything. He couldn't help the way he let his palms spread out on her back, as he blurted out, "I like you."

He noticed her soft smile first, and then her eyes closed. Bob was admiring how her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she said, "I like you, too." And then she kissed him. She just kissed him. It was suddenly time for kissing. And then it was over before Bob really got to enjoy it. Nova was looking up at him like she was trying to gauge his reaction, but he just stood there trying to figure out what to do next.

Her fingers stilled on his neck before she released him and tried to step away, her face falling into a much shyer look. But he kept his hands on her back. Her lips were softly parted, and Bob wanted them on his again. Even though he wasn't quite sure if he was doing any of it right, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers a little too hard at first.

She moaned softly as she brought her hands back up around his neck, and Bob eased himself back a little bit, making the kiss softer. This felt good. She had smooth skin and eager lips, and now her fingers were in his hair as her cheek bumped his glasses. He felt like he was getting the hang of things when she parted her lips and tasted his tongue.

Bob's hands slid down to grab at her hips through her leggings, and Nova laughed softly as she tasted him again. The soft vibrations against his lips had him more aware of his body than he ever had been before, but not in a bad way. He seemed to be making her feel excited as she wiggled her curvy hips back and forth slightly in his hands.

Nova broke the kiss and raked her fingers along his forehead and back through his tidy hair. "You smell good," she told him, leaning in close again and running her nose along his neck. "Like... something outdoorsy mixed with a fried potato."

He couldn't help but laugh as she kissed the spot next to his Adam's apple. "That sounds like it would smell bad."

"It doesn't," she reassured him with a giggle. "It just makes me want to taste you." Bob had to press his lips together and count to ten in his head as Nova ran her tongue in a slow and steady stripe up his neck to his ear. When her lips met his earlobe, his hands on her hips were pulling her body closer to his as she said, "I could eat you up."

She was still standing on the tops of his feet, but now Bob had her back pressed against the doorframe. They were making out, and it was all coming pretty naturally for him. She kissed his neck and told him something sweet, so he decided to go ahead and try the same thing. "I think I love kissing you," he said, his voice raspier than normal as she tipped her head back.

Nova was moaning his name as he kissed the front of her neck, and she pressed her thigh against him. And oh no... Bob had an erection. She didn't seem bothered, but he pulled himself a few inches away from her and looked down at her pretty face. "Do you want to go back inside?" she asked, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.

"Should we?" he asked softly, sliding his hands back up to her waist as she shrugged.

"Probably. But I'm sure they all know exactly what we're doing out here."

His eyes went wide. "They do?"

She smiled and ran her fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'd venture to guess they know we were making out, Bob."

How was he supposed to go back inside now? He thought about just leaving; his truck was parked right there on the street. But he didn't want to go without his new dice. Or Nova.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah... maybe we should go back in."

"Okay." But first she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pressed one more soft kiss to his lips. "Just let me know if you want to take another break, because I'd be more than happy to tag along."

Then she opened the door, and the bright light and loud laughter coming from inside were enough to have him reaching for Nova's hand as she stepped down from his feet and onto the living room floor. She looked back at him with a coy smile as she laced her fingers with his. It was so obvious that they had been kissing. Bob knew he was blushing, and her lips looked a little puffy from the way he'd been enjoying them. When Jake fist bumped him as they walked past, Javy winked, and Bradley was on the couch with Nat pouting.

But Nat smiled and shook her head as Nova led Bob into the kitchen. "Want some more wine?" she asked, pulling a bottle from the refrigerator. There was something about the way she looked in the semi darkness as the candles from the menorah burned low. Her face was cast in warm light as well as shadows, and Bob found that leaning down to kiss her again was the most natural thing in the world.

The cold bottle was pressed to his arm, and she kissed him back. When Bob opened his eyes again, his glasses were crooked and two of the candles had burned out. The kitchen was even darker now as she pecked his cheek and then strolled out into the living room. He took a few seconds to consider that now he'd initiated more kisses than she had. The desire to follow her and kiss her again was so strong, he almost tripped when he thought about her going back to New York. Had he ever felt this way about a girl after a few hours? No. Absolutely not.

He knew he should have found another place to sit in Nat's tiny, loud living room, but when he saw the spot on the couch next to Nova was empty, he couldn't force his steps in any other direction. She tracked him with her eyes, clearly feeling no shame about what was happening here.

"How much have the rest of you had to drink?" she asked the guys. Jake was laying on the floor laughing while Javy tried to spin a dreidel on his nose. Bradley's cheeks were bright red, and he was half asleep at the other end of the couch. Mickey actually was asleep in the armchair. The only one who looked okay was Reuben.

"A lot," Javy said. "We turned dreidels into a drinking game, and clearly Nat is better than the rest of us." Nat winked at Nova who winked back. "And Mickey can't hold his liquor for shit."

Nova laughed at him in the armchair. "Is that a WSO thing, Bob? Or can you handle another glass of wine?" she teased.

"I can handle what you give me," he replied before he could consider how that might sound. She gasped softly and kind of nodded as she poured some more into his glass from earlier.

"I guess we'll find out."

She tapped her glass to his, and they joined in the game with the others. Bob had never played before, but he was a quick study. It certainly didn't hurt that Nova kept touching his hands as she taught him what to do. And two glasses of wine later, Bob felt lighter and more carefree. His right hand was resting on her lower back, and she leaned in to his side as the game progressed. And the best part was, Nat seemed more than okay with this.

In fact, as midnight was fast approaching, Nat stood and stretched. "I'm beat. I don't care who stays over, but Nova is in the extra bedroom, so the rest of you can fight over the couches."

Bradley and Mickey both snored in response while Reuben started to gather Jake and Javy off the floor. "I'll drop the two of you off," he said. "It was nice to meet you, Nova. Thanks, Nat."

"Thanks, Nat," Javy and Jake echoed as Nat waved. Nova blew them each a kiss.

Once they were gone, Nat started to gather up the empty wine bottles to take them into the kitchen, and Bob figured he should get ready to go as well. "Do you need help with anything?" he asked his friend, but she just waved him off. "No, I insist," he added.

He picked up some more of the trash the guys left, and as soon as he and Nova both stood, Bradley stretched out on the couch. "Just leave the rest of the mess. It's honestly fine. We can clean it up tomorrow," Nat said as she looked at her sister.

Nova nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you clean everything when we wake up."

They carried the trash they had already gathered in their arms to the kitchen, and then Nat hugged her sister before kissing Bob's cheek. "I'm assuming I'll see you again quite soon," she told him with an amused expression before she headed for the stairs.

Bob wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. Right now he had to figure out a way to say goodbye to the woman in front of him. He wondered if there was some way he could tell her that the few hours he spent with her somehow meant something to him. If she lived in San Diego, he thought he would very much like to take her to dinner. Maybe he could figure out a way to say so without completely ruining the moments they'd shared tonight.

"Nova, I-"

It was time for more kissing. She didn't hesitate at all, almost like she felt as comfortable with this as he did. Her hand found the bottom of Bob's tee shirt and eased the fabric up so her palm could rest flat on his abs. She nibbled gently on his lip before she let him taste her tongue. She was sweet like wine. Then his hands were back on her hips again as she eased his shirt up a little further.

"You had a lot to drink," she whispered with a wink, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. "Maybe you should come upstairs with me?" Bob wasn't drunk in the least, and he thought he knew what she meant. When his posture stiffened, she looked up at him. "It's just a twin bed, but we can both fit. If you want."

"You mean to... sleep?" he asked, embarrassed that he had to confirm instead of just knowing how to do things.

Her hand glided down to the top of his jeans, and she laughed softly. "We don't have to mess around," she said as she kissed his lips softly. "But I don't think I can keep my lips away from yours."

When Bob nodded in agreement, heart pounding rapidly, she took him by the hand. Mickey and Bradley were both sound asleep in the living room where Bob made sure to grab his box of dice. Then he let Nova lead him upstairs.

She looked back to smile at him a few times and tugged on his hand when he started to fall behind. Once they were in the extra bedroom with the soft lamplight and the door closed, Nova seemed a little more hesitant.

"Well, there's the twin bed," she said, gesturing toward it before putting her hands on her hips. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and laughed as she looked at the floor. "And I mean, obviously this was all a ploy to get to spend more time with you. But also, I don't think you should drive home after drinking so much wine." She paused before adding, "But mostly I just kind of thought maybe you and I could keep talking and making out."

Bob smiled when she looked up at him. "Yeah, I would like that."

She bit her lip, and Bob swore he had never in his life seen a woman who was so eager to be around him. He toed off his shoes before reaching for her hand again. And then he decided he was going to go for it. He was going to say what was on his mind as they both sat down on the edge of the bed together.

"Hey, Nova? I..." he paused as he looked at her pretty face, and he had to clear his throat before he kept going. "You're really... I like you a lot, and I just wanted you to know that if you lived in San Diego, I would ask you on a date."

She scooted a little closer and let her hand come to rest on his thigh. "Where would you take me?" she asked, pressing her lips to his jaw as he stuttered.

"I would... I'd take you to um, a restaurant that I like called Starlite. It's in the city. It's really pretty inside at night, and they have fairy lights and champagne. And I think you'd look beautiful sitting at one of the tables with me."

"Oh my god," she moaned against his jaw, and Bob had absolutely no control over how his body was reacting to her. "Tell me more."

He tried to keep talking as she moved her hand further up his thigh, but he wasn't sure he was making sense. "I'd get you whatever you wanted, of course. But the steak is really good, so I'd ask if you wanted that. And. And I'd be hoping the waiter was really slow, because you'd look so pretty with the soft lights all around you. I'd want to keep you there with me as long as I could."

"I want to go," Nova whispered, kissing his ear. "I can practically picture it."

Bob closed his eyes, willing his cock to stop having a mind of its own as her fingers went as high as the bottoms of his boxer briefs. If she kept this up, Bob would have to excuse himself, and he really didn't want to leave her right now. Then she straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck, and Bob's arms were full of her.

"I wish we could," he whispered, unsure what to do with his hands. "I'd take you there tomorrow, but Nat told me you're flying back east in the evening." He finally let his hands settle on her waist as she nodded sadly.

"I am," she said as her lips brushed his. "But just humor me. Would you kiss me at Starlite?"

"I'd have to," he replied immediately. "It would be mandatory. All the light and shadows on your face... you'd be ethereal. And if you were looking at me, I wouldn't be able to help myself."

"Bob," she moaned against his lips, nibbling on him softly as her fingers went to his hair. "And where would you take me for our second date?"

He laughed as she licked his tongue. "You'd go out with me a second time?"

"You're joking right?" Nova asked, pulling back a few inches as she played with his hair. "This is all hypothetical, and it's still the best date I've ever been on."

"Okay," Bob replied, and he couldn't help but smile as she nodded for him to go on. "For our second date, I'd take you to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater."

"What would we watch?" she asked, smiling as Bob let his hands drift up a little bit under her shirt.

He shrugged. "Probably a foreign film. You'd think it was cool, but I'd just be watching the way the colorful lights flickered across your face."

She squeaked softly. "Can we pretend we're at the theater now?"

"Sure," he whispered with a smile. "We're at the theater. You look beautiful, reading all the subtitles. But I lost track of the plot of the film already."

"Why's that?" she asked with a grin.

"Can't pay attention to anything except you."

She pushed on his chest until he was laying on his back, her long hair brushing the side of his face as she leaned down to kiss him. She was rubbing herself against his hard length through his jeans and making little sounds that he'd never heard before. His hands were stroking higher, and he could feel her bra with his fingertips. He didn't want any of this to stop.

"Now you seem like a respectable guy, Bob," she murmured. "Would you take me home with you after our second date or make me wait until our third?"

Oh no. Bob loosened his grip on her as he went silent. Nova was still kissing her way across his cheek to his ear when her movements slowed. She eyed him curiously before nudging the rim of his glasses with her nose.

"Bob?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "I don't know. I've never... taken a girl home before."

She looked down at him with a soft smile on her lips. "What?" she asked as she pushed her fingers back through his hair.

Bob was terrified that she would stop touching him as soon as he said the words. She was so lovely, gravitating right to him all night just the same way he subconsciously felt like he wanted to be near her. He already recognized that he could fall for his friend's little sister. Maybe he already had.

He took a deep breath as he adjusted his glasses. She was waiting for him to respond, and there was no point in lying about it now. "I'm a virgin."

Nova's brow creased, and her lips parted wordlessly. She examined his face, probably trying to see if he was lying, because there's no way someone his age shouldn't have lost his virginity by now. And it was a million times worse for a guy than for a girl. He knew that. It was all so very embarrassing.

She didn't laugh, rather she kissed the corner of his lips and simply asked, "How?"

Bob shrugged. "I'm awkward."

"No. You're hot," she replied, shaking her head. "That's not it."

He tried to turn his head and look away, but she followed his gaze until he returned her soft smile. "I'm not really sure," he whispered. "I got close a few times, but it just didn't seem right. That sounds dumb."

"No, it doesn't," she replied, surprising Bob as she kissed him again. "Are you picky?" she asked between each soft press of her lips to his.

"Yeah. Kind of," he told her honestly. "Always have been. Picky about who I spend time with.

She brushed her fingers back through his hair again, and Bob melted at her touch. "That makes sense. A guy like you should be picky."

Somehow Nova was making him feel a lot more normal about this as she wasn't shying away from him. "Picky," he confirmed. "And the timing was never right."

"That's important," she said with a smile. "You have to do what feels good to you."

Bob swallowed hard. He was picky, but he really liked Nova. And for some reason, tonight out of all nights kind of felt right. He could easily blame Nat's Hanukkah party and the soft glow of the menorah candles on Nova's face for getting him to this point. She was on top of him, still kissing him, and he didn't want this to end.

"This feels good to me," he blurted out, reaching up to push his fingers through her dark hair. "Tonight feels right."

She nodded, smiling as she crawled off of him, leaving Bob a little cold as he missed the feeling of her immediately. He sat up on the bed as she crawled up to the pillows and whispered, "Come here." She coaxed him along until she was laying on the pillows and he was on top of her, bracing himself with his arms so he didn't hurt her.

"Okay, so, we already went to Starlite for dinner and then to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. I'll give you until our third date to make your move," she whispered, grinning up at him as she ran he hands up his biceps. "Where are you taking me?"

He took a deep breath; now was not the time for this wave of confidence to falter. "Cliffs beach. I'm packing a picnic, and we can sit in the bed of my truck and watch the sunset while we eat."

Nova moaned again and hooked her leg around Bob's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer. "Dinner was perfect. But now that the sun went down, I'm a little chilly."

"Well, I could keep you warm." He kissed her. "I'd hold you as I tried to work up the nerve to ask you if you wanted to come back to my place."

"I'm wrapped up in your arms, patiently waiting for you to ask," she replied with a smirk.

He nodded, and he knew he was blushing. This whole thing was kind of silly, but it just made sense. "I really like you. I could probably fall for you. If I let myself," he whispered, and she whimpered softly. "Do you want to come back to my place, Nova?"

"Absolutely."

Her hands were all over his face and in his hair, and eventually she took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand. She kissed him slowly as she rolled her hips up against his, and Bob blushed as he got hard again. When she carefully pulled his shirt off, she set it next to the pillow, and then she explored his body with her hands. But as soon as she pulled her own NYU shirt off and was laying beneath him, she arched her back.

Bob reached beneath her, and he fumbled for a few seconds before he unhooked her bra. As he pulled the black lace away from her body and looked down at her breasts and her confident face, he marked this as the furthest he'd ever gone with a woman. She seemed to sense he needed a moment as she ran her fingers through his hair as he stuttered, "You're gorgeous."

Nova looked up at him with her playful dark eyes, but right now they seemed a little more serious. "I could probably fall for you, too."

Then his lips were on hers, and his hands went to her breasts gently stroking each soft handful. He could fall for this, he was sure of it. He wanted to take her on all of those dates, and he would have if he could have. He was charmed by her, and she seemed equally interested in him.

"Bob," she moaned, breaking the kiss and tipping her head back as he pushed himself against her core. He brought his lips down to taste her breasts, and soon she was rolling her hips a little faster. "That feels good," she whispered as she looked up at him. "I like that."

Nova responded just like that to everything he did. When he kissed the side of her neck, she blushed a pretty shade of pink. She shivered for him when he ran his fingers down her side. When he paused with his hand just above the top of her leggings, she whispered, "Bob, you're making me kind of crazy."

She guided his hand down a few more inches with her own, but she didn't get annoyed when he took his time pulling her leggings and underwear off. His heart was pounding as he looked at her, completely naked. Maybe she could sense his hesitation, because she sat up, too, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll tell you if I don't like something, okay? And you do the same?"

He nodded. "I like everything so far. I just don't want to mess this up."

"You won't," she promised, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him softly at first. Then her lips became more demanding, and Bob wrapped one strong arm around her, pulling her on top of him. She giggled against his lips before swiping his tongue with her own.

Her fingers roamed his bare torso and found the light trail of hair below his belly button. "I'm going to take your jeans off," she whispered, carefully unbuttoning and unzipping them. Her hair was already kind of a mess, and he knew his must have been as well. But then all thoughts left his mind as she started to pull his pants down. Bob wasn't dumb; he knew he was at least average size from the amount of time he'd spent in naval locker rooms. But he was surprised by her soft gasp when she pulled his underwear down far enough that his erection sprang free. Then his jeans, socks and underwear were in a pile at the bottom of the small bed, and he was naked, too.

He grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. This was the best thing he ever felt. Until she kissed him there. "Oh god, Nova. Wait," he moaned, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't we need a condom?"

She responded by licking his length before crawling up his body to kiss his lips. "I can go ask my sister if she has any if you want to use one."

"No!" he gasped, nearly headbutting her as he sat up. "No, don't do that." Bob wasn't sure that Natasha would respond kindly to that question coming from her sister. "Please don't."

But Nova was all smiles as she straddled his waist. "Okay," she whispered as he braced himself with his hand behind him on the bed. "I won't alert Natasha to the fact that we're about to have sex."

Bob sighed in relief and reached out to push her hair behind her ear. "Actually, if you could not mention her again right now, that would be great."

Now she was laughing softly as she scooted up until Bob could feel her wet pussy rubbing his cock. "Promise," she confirmed as he looked up at her face. When he glanced down between them, all he could see was her perfect body and his cock jumping against her in excitement. "I'm on birth control anyway," she whispered, kissing along his jaw. "And I know you're a little nervous, but so am I."

"Why?" he asked, surprised by her words.

Nova hummed as she kissed her way back to his lips. "I want this to feel good for you." She wrapped her arms around his neck as she slowly rolled her hips against him and made the softest sounds. His heart rate picked up as she added, "I want you to think about our hypothetical dates after I'm gone."

He was sure he would be thinking about Nova for a very long time. She was all gentle fingers in his hair and confident smiles. She was beautiful, and Bob could easily get addicted to this.

She guided him to lay back on the pillows as she asked, "You ready?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded hoarse as he looked up at her and pushed her hair over one shoulder. When he let his hands trail over the soft skin of her shoulders, breasts and sides, she shivered as she kissed him. Bob could feel her hand around his length, and then his head tipped away from her as he moaned. "Does that feel good?"

Good. That didn't seem like the right word for it, but now his brain felt a little hazy. Nova's lips ghosted over his as he moaned again. She felt tight and inviting, and when she rolled her hips with him inside her like this, Bob gripped her hip a little tighter. His other hand ended up tangled in her hair as he traced her freckled cheek with his thumb. "Nova," he gasped against her lips before devouring her.

Her soft noises got a little louder, and each roll of her hips had Bob praying that this would never end. Every passing second was better than the last. Every time she whispered his name and tasted his tongue was too exciting. When she ended up on her back, looking up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he kissed her neck and pushed himself deep inside her.

"Oh," she moaned, and he had to slowly shake his head to keep his focus. Her leg was hooked up around his hip, and he was suddenly very aware that he didn't know how to make her orgasm.

"Nova?" he gasped as she reached for his hand. But he should have known she'd be willing to help him with this as she showed him where and how to rub her.

"Fuck," she whined, taking a few gasping breaths. "That feels so good." He kept moving his hips, too, and a few seconds later, as she was nibbling on his lip and whining, he felt her squeezing around him. "Bob. Bob. Bob!"

Her back was arched off the bed, and her breasts bounced with every wild breath she took, and then he had no idea it would all happen so fast for him. He tucked his face against her neck and shoulder as he bucked into her without finesse. He couldn't control it. He came so hard, his vision looked like a kaleidoscope of colors when he opened his eyes. But she was right there, and she was perfect.

He half collapsed against her chest as she played with his hair, and it felt like it might have been a long time before he moved. Bob wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, and even though he thought he should feel timid, he didn't. He felt so relaxed and almost loved as she touched him like this. When he tipped his face up to look at her, she was smiling.

He was picky, and the timing never felt right before now. But Nova was lovely, and tonight was the right night. "My Hanukkah wish is to go on all of those dates with you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes as she blushed. "And see how pretty you'd look with the sun setting and all the fairy lights."

She leaned up slightly to kiss his lips. "I wish we could."

As she laced her fingers with his, Bob whispered, "Maybe we can trade phone numbers? And talk until you get tired of me."

She nodded and asked, "And what if I don't ever get tired of you?"

Bob studied her face as she ran her fingers through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder. "Then we'll go on the dates for real."

Eventually they fell asleep around four in the morning after talking and having sex again. When Bob woke up at nine, it was to Nova's lips on his neck and her voice in his ear. "Morning, Bob."

He just held her a little tighter. When they went downstairs, nobody was surprised they'd spent the night together, not even Nat. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and he ended up staying all day, even after Bradley and Mickey both left. He just wanted to be around Nova for as long as possible, but eventually he had to leave so her sister could take her to the airport. So she could go back to New York.

"I'll miss you," she promised when she walked him out to his truck. She took his phone and saved her number for him.

"Should I text you now? So you have mine, too?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "Fair warning, once you text me, I'll write back and probably never stop."

Bob laughed softly and quickly typed up a text to her while she kissed his neck.

I miss you already, and I didn't even leave yet.

Then he kissed her back until her sister started yelling out the front door about going to the airport. "Bye, Bob," Nova whispered before kissing his cheek and bounding back in the house. As he drove away, his phone lit up in the cup holder with a series of texts from her, and he hoped she was telling the truth when she said she wouldn't stop.

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

Five months later...

"Are you really this nervous to see her again?" Natasha asked him as they walked through JFK airport together. "You've talked to her everyday for months. Hell, you flew out to see her for a weekend in March."

Bob blushed as he thought about those three days when he'd been here during a late winter snowstorm that kept him and Nova inside her apartment for most of the weekend. She'd hardly let him out of her bed. And while they weren't dating, not exactly, Bob knew he wanted to be.

"Yeah, I'm a little nervous. She has no idea I'm here for her graduation. Do you know how hard it was to lie to her?"

Nat laughed as they walked outside in the May sunlight to get a cab to Nova's apartment. Bob was slightly afraid she'd be upset when they got there. Or maybe there would be evidence of another guy. It might break his heart, but he'd have to accept it. But he just couldn't get past that night they spent together during Hanukkah, and he'd been falling in love with her since then. Even over the phone.

"I'm sure she'll be happier to see you than me," Nat told him. It seemed like no time passed at all before they were pulling up to the building he'd only seen once when it was surrounded by a layer of snow.

He got out of the cab and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk as Natasha got her phone out. She looked up at him with a smile as she called her sister. "I'm here," she said before looking at the blank screen. "She screamed and then hung up."

Bob laughed nervously with his backpack on and Nat's hand rubbing his arm in a soothing circle. "If she's not excited to see me, I'll just get a hotel room or try to exchange my ticket for something earlier," he mumbled.

But the next thing he knew, Nova was throwing open the door to her building. She barely looked at her sister before she gasped, "Bob!" and launched herself down the stairs and into his arms.

"Hi," he whispered as she clung to the front of him and shamelessly kissed his lips and neck right in front of her sister. "I missed you."

She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him as she let her cheek rest on his chest. "You brought me Bob? Is he my graduation present?" she asked Natasha as Bob ran his fingers through her hair and chuckled.

"Something like that," she replied, reaching for the key that was still in Nova's hand. "I'll meet the two of you inside."

As Nat let herself in the building, Nova looked up at him. "You lied to me. You said you had to work this weekend."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll never do it again." She was melting into his touch as he cleared his throat and added, "I know you're still going on interviews and trying to decide on a job, but I took next week off just in case I could persuade you to come back to San Diego for a bit."

She smiled. "Now why would I want to do that?"

Bob shrugged. "I just really think we should go on those three dates before I ask you to be my girlfriend."

"Starlite. Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. Cliffs beach," she said softly.

"In that order," he confirmed. "But I'd be taking you home with me after each one."

"Then yes."

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

Happy Holidays! I'll be thinking about Bob and Nova through the New Year. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @ryebecca

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#winterromcomchallenge #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #robert bob floyd fic #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x oc #bob fucks #bob fluff #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fan fiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #brighter than a supernova

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mntalbrakdown · 1 year

Text

pocket size - P. Hynes White

masterlist

mentions of: height? idk let me know if you find any!

synopsis: percy liked that you are shorter than him

a/n: i’m no longer writing for him so plz no hate!!!!

12 inches. a whole foot shorter. you were 5”2 and Percy was 6”2. he liked how he could tower you. he liked the way you would have to look up at him. he especially appreciated when it was sunny outside because you would have to look up and the sun would catch your eyes making you scrunch your face. he also enjoyed how your hands would be wayyyy smaller than his. but out of all these things, his favorite thing about how short you were was putting his head on top of yours and wrapping his hands around your waist.

You and Percy have been dating for a year. you bumped into him in a pharmacy, trying to develop your film. Percy was waiting next to you holding his camera and you with yours.

“you take pictures” he tries to start a conversation with a girl he found attractive

“yeah, just started with this, I have an actual camera,” you say smiling weakly

“I think you should keep using a disposable camera so we could bump into one another more often,” he says trying to secure a date with you

“or you could just ask for my number” a date you wanted

“would Instagram be included in that bundle” he tried to stalk you, he tried to find out who you were as a person

“or maybe on the other hand I actually don’t have a number” you try to joke

“no don’t be like that” he’s a little flustered now

a few days later after that interaction, you were on a date. after that date led to more dates than asking for you to be his officially. it was nice to have someone to call yours and be excited to hang out with whenever possible.

—-

“ready to head out,” Percy says wrapping his hands around your waist as you’re putting on the final touches of your makeup and hair

“yeah, one second,” you say putting on some perfume that Percy got you during his time in Romania. it was vanilla-scented. your favorite

you were ready to go out on your date. the date was a dinner and you wanted to bet Percy that he was going to move your seat next to his to be able to sit next to you.

right, when you were seated across from each other Percy gets up and moves his chair in the middle asking you to do the same and you did. the thing is that you thought that the distance between the two of you was perfect, but in Percy's eyes he thought differently, he scooted your chair so his practically touched. the whole night after was him with his arm around your shoulder or his hand lying on your thigh.

—-

during car rides, Percy likes to put his hand on your lap. squeezing it and making his fingers dance around. when it was summer he liked how you would dangle your head out the window. how your hair would dance in the wind.

he also liked how in the winter you would bundle up and wear his hoodies because they were so warm but you secretly liked the smell of them. he liked that you would wear the hood and sit on the car seat with yours legs held to your chest because you were so cold.

—-

he never cared about the arts really until he met you. he liked being able to take pictures of you in his bed in a small form but never liked actually making the art. he never learned from the lessons that Netflix made him do.

he liked how you would look when putting your head on his bicep. while you would observe the art. he would have you wrapped around his arms. his head on top of yours. you would talk about all the details of the painting and he would listen nodding and humming in amusement.

one thing the two of you had in common was liking films. every Tuesday heading to the closest AMC theatre. you would watch films and analyze them together afterward.

the theatre had reclining seats and you could move the middle cup holder up so the both of you could cuddle together. and that’s what you did.

every film no matters if it was scary or not you would lie on his chest while he wrapped his arms around you. (the same way you both slept) you liked the way his heart would beat speed up when he would look down on you. you could tell because his head would move around. and you could tell his shit-eating grin was on his face once again.

of course, afterward, you would talk about the film going back to your shared place. he would laugh at your theories of the film. he would play your theories in his head on the way to sleep and they would always make sense.

—-

he also liked baking with you. he liked how you would move around a lot and get the batter on your face somehow. he liked that you had your hair back in a messy style and would have an apron on. sleeves rolled up ready to take on whatever you were doing

“perc! I need your help” you yelled and saw him resting his body on the wall that splits your living room from the kitchen

“what do you need my highness” he bows down

“I need you to get me the pink bowl on the top right cabinet” you point to the thing causing your pissed-off state.

you never understood why he never got you a stool. maybe he liked being of help and being able to be in your bubble while you bake. because he never once got in the way of your work.

he never once let you put the pan into the oven because he was scared you would burn yourself. which never happened when you were on your own.

“why can’t I do it,” you ask feeling like all the work he has done

“don’t want you to get burnt,” he says opening the oven and putting in the pan

“there are mittens for a reason, y’know they aren’t decorations”

“but you look so pretty all healthy and smooth,” he says getting the brown batter from your nose and licking his finger clean

he liked cleaning up with you. playing with bubbles and splashing you with water. he grew in love with your face, he grew to be able to read your facial expressions. enough being said he could read how pissed you were but he knew to not mess around anymore.

waiting for the pastry was enjoyable. he liked waiting on the couch with you. you were in between his legs and your head rested on his chest. you would scroll on your phone and Percy would watch. when the pastry was ready you both would always burn yourselves it was like you never learned. and you would both laugh at each other. but it was enjoyable and you both would finish it in a day.

—-

the get-together was at his place. it was strictly just the cast. they slowly started to pile in through the door. he was excited to be reunited with them. he found the friends that he loved. and you were happy for him. as he greeted everyone he was ready to sit down on the couch and you were close behind. he was holding your hand guiding you to your seat.

another thing Percy was extremely mad about was you sitting on his lap. no matter if there was plenty of space everywhere else. he loved sitting with you. he especially did this when you were laying on the couch watching some TikToks and he would make you get up and lay on top of him. it would make you go crazy and not in a good way. but it made him happy so you let it slide.

“so how long have you two dated” hunter asked

“About two years,” Percy says playing with your hair. twisting it and fiddling with it between his two fingers

Emma was trying to get your attention. she thought you were interesting. she liked the way you probably have a lot to say but just keep to yourself. she knew deep down you were funny because well you were dating Percy.

“what’s something that Percy has done here that no one else knows about,” Emma asks looking directly at you. you start laughing at the thought

“no-“ Percy says trying to hold you from saying it

“he…he sings t swift when he’s bored” Percy tried to cover your mouth before you finished the sentence, but it was too late because what you said was out and everyone was laughing

“so- uh- so who wants to play uno” Percy says trying to move the conversation

wanting to get the Uno cards that were under the coffee table. in a red tin box that once contained chocolates, Percy got you for valentines day. once you got it you were walking to his kitchen. all the seats were taken and Percy put you on his lap. he shuffled the cards and something about that no matter who did it, was attractive. Percy however liked the way your hands made the Uno cards look humongous while he made them look tiny.

“Are you both teaming?” Jenna asked

“should we” Percy whispers in your ear sending butterflies straight to your stomach

“Sure,” you say kissing his cheek and everyone started teaming up.

halfway through the game, Percy has half the deck with him.

“I should've never teamed with you” you laugh at just seeing the cards

“I’ll make us win don’t worry” he had his eyes wide like he was determined. and that he was because he always kept his promises to you.

and by the end of the night you both did. he liked the way your eyes would sparkle with joy that only lit up with winning. how you would wrap your hands around him and laugh.

—-

one thing Percy hated was high heels. it was like they were enemies. you never understood it. it wasn’t like you would get whiny about the heels hurting you. in fact it was the opposite. you would run dance jump all of it and all Percy’s face was saying is how much he hated those things giving you height.

he liked that you would have to tip-toe for him but those were easy access they took one of his favorite things about you. and if he could he would destroy them all.

he liked that at the end of the day, you would dress in his clothes to go to bed. it was practically a nightgown for you. he liked how you would clean your face and make sure you felt clean. he liked the way you would be ready to go to bed and not even act like you didn’t want to be by him. because you did you wanted him to wrap his arms around you because it is reassuring and comforting. and wake up in that same form in the morning.

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moonit3 · 5 months

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Can I get a uhhhhh dragon yandere (it's ok if u don't btw!! I just love getting presents and the unusual)

yes, you can get a yandere dragon, anon.

WARMTHLESS

➥ warnings/notices: yandere male, obsession, manipulation, kidnapping, forced relationship, age gab (like the dragon is imortal and reader is a young adult), there is a child here, gn! reader, readers uses a cane later in the story, implied violence, implied death.

➥ yandere! dragon x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: the great dragon of the south never expected to become a caretaker of a human child, but luckily he has someone to help him with the task.

➥ a/n: did I love writing this one? yes. however, be warned that it takes a while to the yandere show up his tendencies as I try to make this one feel more ‘realistic’, to make the dragon slowly fall in love with reader with everything going on with their lifes. also, be aware this is quite long.

the great dragon of the south always lived by himself since the beginning of humanity. staying by his own lair on the coldest mountains, he spend most of his cleaning his treasures and watching the humans from a village nearby the mountains.

it’s a lonely life, but that was dragon made for, to live by themself til one day their bodies stop working and then to ascend to the afterlife. that’s what oberon’s ancestors told him, he is destined to be a lonely dragon til his last breath on earth, but that changed after a day.

during the coldest winter that passed in earth, oberon was waking throughout the abandoned path once used by merchants and to his surprise, he finds a human shelter. it’s destroyed, corpses are everywhere and so is blood. what did happened here? it couldn’t be simply raiders who attacked, the marks on the now dead bodies shows sharp claws and the scene is too messy to be made by humans.

his eyes notice one the tents moving, so he steps closer to see what is inside and he made a great discovery. a baby.

“oh, a tiny human.” shaping into his human form, oberon hold the children into his arms as gently as possible and analyze the little one. few drops of blood in their face and despite everything, they aren’t crying like he thought they would. “a brave one, i see…”

the first thing that came to his head was going to village nearby and hand the child to the people there, hoping to find a living relative to raise them. however, there is too much snow for him to travel and using his dragon form is out of question, it would only scary the villagers. so another idea came to his mind, he would take care of the child in meanwhile until the weather changes for good.

inside his lair, the great dragon managed to make a makeshift bed for the tiny human made of old vests and fur of ancient animals he once hunted for fun. despite not being the most appropriate place to a baby rest, the little one probably found to be comfortable as their eyes closed in seconds, leaving oberon alone with his thoughts.

why would an expedition bring a baby with them? any human should know how the cold mountains aren’t a suitable place for a newborn, but he can’t ask it as the child’s probably parents are dead, meaning that he will have to go the humans’ village soon.

the next morning, before the sun raise on the sky, oberon put the heaviest coat to cover his human form and the little one who rest on a handmade baby sling on his chest. with that, he began walking down the mountain and sing a sweet melody to the child stay calm during the trip, it’s working as the two made their way to the village.

step by the step and a three hours late, oberon arrived at the small village after a snowstorm had calm a little, luckily no house or building seems to be torn apart. and pulling the hood down, the baby awake by the soft light of the sun and their giggles made the dragon smile as both approach the closest house.

he knocks at the door and someone opens it quickly, “oh my! what are you doing in a weather like this? please, come in.” oberon enters the tiny house and takes off the hoodie when the door closed behind him. “take a cup of tea, dear traveler.”

the dragon observes how small is the house. the bed serves the same purpose of a couch to watch the fireplace and the only walls inside are the one to separe the bathroom from the rest of the home. it’s so small, but it’s fit a human to live in comfort on their own.

“thank you for let us in.” oberon sit on the edge of the bed, carefully holding the baby and put them to rest on the warm blankets. with his hands now free, he removes his heavy coat and grab a cup of tea to take a sip from it. “may I ask if you have anything to feed a child? if that isn’t too much to ask, my fruits are long gone to the child’s belly.”

“I do have some berries,” the gentle voice of the human make oberon smile, this person simply didn’t notice the horns on his head or they just don’t care at all? “and I think that I might have some strawberries that I brought some days ago…”

as you search for the fruits, oberon analysis the interior of the house. there are a few portraits on the walls, photos that include you with other people he believes to be your family. it’s something that oberon envy from most humans, they can have family and relationships without worrying about immortality, as they live together til the end. while dragons get to live forever with one at their side.

“here I found some, mr…”

“oberon, just oberon.”

a small basket of fruits is now at his side, waiting to be eaten by the time when the child wakes up later. for now, the two share true same roof til the snowstorm ends and for what it’s look, they will have to be together for a while.

“so, why did you came to the village? the snowstorm won’t stop anytime soon and bringing a child so young isn’t the best idea.” the human pour another cup of tea to the dragon before taking a seat on a close chair to take a better look at the baby. “this child isn’t your, am i right?”

“indeed. i found them at destroyed campsite at the mountains, their parents are long gone.” the smile on the human’s face vanish by his words, sad about the true reality of the baby’s parents. “i would take care of the child on my own, but i lack the ability to raise them as I don’t know to take care of another living being.”

oberon felt guilty for what he is going to say next, but he has too. “could you help me raise them? just for a brief amount of time and then i can leave afterwards.”

the humans stay quiet, taking about the proposal gave by the dragon, unaware of his true intentions, “well, it’s sound a good deal.” a smile grown on their lips, a tint red on their cheeks of the idea of getting close to the mysterious man.

“then it’s a deal, mx…?”

“call me [name] and you are?”

“oberon, just oberon.”

times goes on as oberon began to raise the little girl at your side, feeling happy knowing that you let stay at your home without expecting anything in return. it’s a generous act and the dragon knows that not many people would be as nice as you, so he makes sure to keep his value at your small house.

you continue doing the hard work such as cutting the wood for the fireplace to keep the house warm, fishing at the frozen river, going for the market to exchange your products to supplies for the cold winter, that’s your role in the house. while oberon become the main caregiver for the young girl, learning how to take of a baby who always need his attention, changing diapers and teaching her the old tales of mythological creatures he once meet in his dragon form.

life is going smooth, oberon can’t deny that. having someone to help him raise a human kid in an environment with other children sounds better than raising it at his lair, where no one would know their presence. but this life isn’t going too good for you, he can see the dark circles growing under your eyes for working long hours and he notice how sometimes the money wasn’t enough to cover the food, so you would just starve yourself to let him and the child eat. an generous, but foolish act as he doesn’t need to eat as much human does.

“you should eat more, oberon.” that you always say to him every time you give your barely touched plate of food to him. “taking care of a child on your own requires more energy than fishing.”

he tries to talk about it with you, but Oberon always lose the discussion as you give that sweet smile to him. the same smile you have when playing with the child after a long day of working, the very same smile that he has seeing for the last two years. you have endure so much because of him and the kid, oberon feels guilty about it. he sees himself as a failure for not giving or making your life easier, maybe things will change for good when the three of you start living at his lair back at the mountains.

it was another day of work for you and definitely it was exhausting as there war almost nothing that you fished today. the villagers didn’t brought any the tiny fishes you offered, but they felt compassion knowing that you are the sole provider of the house, so they handed you the food they didn’t sell. it was a great gift as you won’t ever forget about it.

going back to your home, you’ve expected to be welcome by the child’s hugs and oberon’s sweet words, asking about your work. however, that didn’t happened. walls empty of the many family’s portraits, the clothes oberon sewed missing, food is gone and the worse, none of them are here. almost like they were nothing, but hallucinations.

you yelled their name, searching the surrounding area of the cabin as the snow gets heavier and the wind colder. there are no footprints of them, no trace of they could’ve been, perhaps your mind is playing tricks. if so, how can you stop it and how can you find the two most important people of your life?

the idea of them simply vanish made you uncomfortable, made you cry in the middle of the snow and scream of frustration. things got worse and you have no idea of to fix it. but a thought came to mind, maybe they went to the village to buy firewood when you were out.

the small chance of seeing them made you get up from the cold snow and clean the tears away from face, ready to go back to the village and ask the others.

unfortunately that never happened.

claws met your shoulder and in a blink of eyes, a dragon began to fly away from your cabin. his wing flapping and creating strong winds as you desperately try to get away from it. you try to yell for help, but the dragon was too high in the sky to anyone hear you scream and no one would be a fool to help you in this situation. so you had no other option than just stay still and hope for the creature don’t drop you. the high ground made you dizzy and without option, your eyes closed by the moment you saw the clouds.

above the clouds and hide from danger, there is a lair of the great dragon do the south. he lives there’s along with two another people and those are his most important treasures, ones that he will never let it go.

the travelers brave enough to climb up there to exchange good with oberon, report the two people living with him are completely opposite.

the oldest, the spouse, always wearing the same expression in the face of tiredness. they use a cane to walk around the lair (now transformed into a cozy home) and some more aware travelers could see the scar on the spouse’s leg. it’s huge, definitely the reason why they need to use a cane to move.

some ask how them how was the accident, curious about the reason behind it. the spouse always replied there was a slippery ice that resulted in them becoming this way, yet some travelers doubt that by seeing fear in their eyes when answering it the dragon is always watching them talking with outsiders, but none pushed forward to know the truth.

and the second treasure is his daughter. an energetic and intelligent girl who is always reading about the world outside, dreaming to go out and explore the many places from the books she have read. her eyes sparkle whatever a traveler tell about the magnificent places she could visit when getting older and she is always writing in her journals about it.

and that’s what she did. finally of age, the little girl now grown as a smart and kind lady left the lair to adventure herself into the unknown. she doesn’t forget about to send magic letters (that literally just spawn at the lair) to her parents, telling about the world and the numerous cultures she has learned.

it’s great to know their daughter is doing okay, but for the great dragon, something is missing of the lair. it’s the silence that irritates him, the lack of a reason behind those make his spouse act happy and joyful with him and the fact they are begging to see the outside world again. it’s been years since the dragon let them walk at the mountain’s feet and the last time they did, the human tried something idiot and got to use the cane for their rest of their life.

they began to make him angry, always asking to be outside for just a little and they won’t stop talking about it! the dragon wanted to keep them occupied to ever think about it and so he found a way to chain them inside the lair once again.

one day, returning to the lair after flying around the southern region, the dragon brought someone else in his arms, a baby. the view of a small figure in the arms of their husband made the human just stare at it, fully scared to ask why there is blood on the child’s face, but brave enough to ask why he brought a kid to the lair.

“it’s our second born, my dear.” what? “you looked so sad after our daughter left, so I believe that being parents once again will make us happier, closer and of course, you will stop nagging about brainless things of going outside. now, you should give our baby a bath, right? I will make dinner for the three of us.”

@moonit3 writings

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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months

Note

I love your writing so so so much ! ❤️❤️❤️ I hope it's okay to shot you another idea cause I can't resist 🥺 I thought of something fluffy where it's snowing and Bucky used to hate winter due to his past but you ask him going outside with you and he can't resist you. So you end up building Snowmen and Snow angels and he enjoys it with you. Later you cuddle together in front of the fireplace, him holding you close and finally admitting how much he likes you and you kiss ? 🤗

snowman

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: fluff, Bucky is wrapped around your finger, slight insecurity, friends to lovers

Author’s note: it took quite a while to write, but I did it lol. After rereading this, I think that I sliiiightly changed your idea, but I hope you'll still like it🩷

“No. I’m not going there, doll.” Bucly looked down at you and that cute little frown appeared on his face again. “You know I hate snow.”

“No-o-o! Bucky, please! It’s the first snow this year, and I want to go outside with you. Do I often ask you for something?” His arms were crossed over his chest, and you desperately gripped his forearms, trying to give your best puppy eyes. “Please-please-please?”

"Can't you take someone else?” He was giving up—you saw that.

“No, I don’t want anyone else! I want you to go with me, Buck. I promise it’s gonna be fun.” You squeezed your hands, feeling both metal and warm skin under your touch.

For a few seconds, Bucky was just looking at you. Anyone else would’ve already felt intimidated, but you held his gaze without hesitation, knowing that Bucky just couldn’t resist you. You also knew that it was hard for him to survive during that season because it reminded him of that day when he had fallen and lost his arm. But you wanted to create new memories, to show that winter may be fun and full of happiness.

The fact that you had the biggest crush on your best friend and you had a good opportunity to cange something between you two was just a bonus.

“So?”

“Fine.” Bucky puffed and you screamed with happiness, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him closer to you. You felt how he chuckled and hugged you back. “The power that you have over me..."

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, Jamie. I’m gonna get drassed. Wait for me here, ‘kay?” You gave him the brightest smile and Bucky couldn’t help but smile back.

He looked at the way you almost ran away and shook his head. You really wrapped Bucky around your finger, and he didn’t even try to fight. He would give you anything you wanted if he got your smile in return.

In a few minutes, you came back, dressed in sweatpants, fluffy socks, and a big hoodie, holding a pile of clothes in your hands. Bucky curiously looked at you but still reached for his jacket, ready to go out. Only for you to slightly slap his hand.

“You don’t think that I’ll let you play with me in the snow just in your t-shirt and jacket, right? " Leather, light jacket, may I add." You crossed your hands on your chest and strictly looked at him.

“Why not? I always dress like that.”

“Yeah, I know, and that’s insine. I know you are a big, strong, and scary super soldier, but it is still cold outside. So I bought you some clothes that you will wear.” You reached the pile of clothes, holding an almost similar gray hoodie to what you were wearing.

“So you’re thinking that I’m big, strong, and scary?” A slight one-sided smirk appeared on his face and you playfully rolled your eyes, stepping closer. “But I don’t need that.”

“You do. I know that you hate the snow because you get nagging pain in your shoulder and because of the memories. I want it to be fun. I don’t want you to be cold or feel any type of pain. Don’t be so stubborn, I’m just taking care of you, Bucky.” You said softly. Bucky stayed silent again, probably rethinking your words. He still wasn’t used to the fact that you were so sweet and caring to him. To anyone, to be fair, but he wondered if you did it because you like him more than just a friend.

He gave up again, just silently nodding and allowing you to dress him up. When Bucky didn’t even move, you understood it as a sign to do everything by yourself.

You put the hoodie over his head, then lifted both of his arms to get it on. Bucky stood there, pouting like a child, and you thought it was the cutest thing ever. The next was a jacket that was fluffy enough to keep him warm even if you spent several hours outside. You took a hat from the couch and put it on.

“I look ridiculous.”

“You look cute.” You laughed and quickly dressed up, handing Bucky the gloves. He threw another annoyed look at you, but still did what you wanted, following you out of the room.

It was amazing. The trees, buildings, the ground—everything was fully white. A thick layer of snow covered everything around you. You happily run down the stairs, dragging Bucky by his hand behind you.

You had the brightest smile when you stood in the snow and tilted your head back, so some snowflakes fell on your warm skin. It was something that you had been waiting for since last winter because this season always looked magical in New York.

Bucky looked at you as if he were hypnotized. Yes, everything around looked pretty, but the way your face was lit up with that pure and childish happiness and how you giggled when you looked up in the sky made his chest tighten with these unspoken feelings toward you.

He was dragged out of his thoughts when something hit him right in the chest. Bucky slowly blinked at you when he realized that you had just thrown a snowball at him.

“Did you–”

“I did.” You smirked and bent down to collect more snow in your hands. Another snowball hit Bucky in the arm.

“You’ll regret this, doll.”

After that, everything went on a spiral.

Bucky was much quicker and stronger than you, so just in a few minutes, you were covered in snow. You, laughing and screaming his name, tried to run away and hide behind the trees, but he was always a step ahead of you.

“Why are you hiding, doll? You started this and you wanted me to go outside with you, right?” You stayed quiet behind the tree, hoping to run away when he didn’t pay attention. Bucky slowly went towards where you were hiding, seeing the back of your jacket.

He was getting too close, and you knew that you'd lose immediately. So with all the speed that you had, you ran.

Bucky smiled to himself again. It was really cute that you thought you could win.

You ran through the snow, almost tripping over a few times, and you were sure that you were winning until you felt two strong hands on your waist and suddenly your legs weren’t on the ground anymore.

“No-no! Bucky, oh my god! Put me back!” You screamed and laughed when Bucky just threw you over his shoulder and went to the large snowdrift. “What are you going to do?! No. Don’t you dare, James!” You started wiggling in his hands but it did particularly nothing.

Without any further words, Bucky just threw you into the pile of snow. You sank there fully; the snow almost reached your face and for the first time today, you heard Bucky laughing.

“You know what? It’s actually kind of fun, princess.” You pouted at him just like he did when you were dressing him up.

“I hate you.”

“So you don’t need help to get out of there?” He raised a brow at you, and you mumbled ‘I do’ under your nose. “C’mon, doll, are you mad at me?” Bucky took you out of the snow, looking at how you were quietly rudding out the snow that started soaking through your clothes. “Hey. I didn’t want to upset you. I’m sorry.” He stepped closer, drawing your attention to him. You were not really mad; you just wanted to tease him, but from the look on Bucky's face, he felt terrible and probably thought he had hurt you.

“I won’t be mad if you build a snowman with me and then we’ll make snow angels.” You whispered while the smile started creeping into your face. Bucky’s eyes widened when he realized your little plan. Yeah, you got him there. He had no choice but to agree.

The next hour you spent outside, enjoying the snowfall and doing exactly what you dreamed about a few times. You both rolled up three different snowballs, and you found some rocks to make the eyes, mouth, and bottons. Bucky’s heart beat a few times faster when he saw how carefully you made the snowman’s face, even dropping to your knees on the snow to get a better angle. You looked so concentrated on that little task, biting your lip, and Bucky was almost ready to confess his feelings.

“Done!” You happily smiled back at him, but he was just stupidly staring at you in silence. Your smile slowly started fading when Bucky looked at you with that weird facial expression that you couldn’t even read or understand. “Are you okay? James? Something happened?”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but it was not the right time, Bucky thought to himself. “Let’s make those snow angels and get back. Your clothes are getting wet and you might catch a cold.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Is it your shoulder? Is it aching again?” You quickly stood up and came closer; your hand in a glove instantly reached his face, again knocking all of the thoughts except for you out of his head.

It was weird. It felt weird. You were too close. Your worried eyes were running around his face, and Bucky was unable to even say something. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to survive around you this way. When everything he wanted was to hold you close, hug you, and kiss you in every possible moment, when his stomach was tightening every time you smiled at him and were this touchy.

You thought Bucky was going to kiss you. You swore you saw how his eyes slipped to your lips… But then he just blinked a few times, shook his head, and took your hand away from his face, interlacing your fingers. “I’m okay. Let’s go.”

You were so confused by what the hell just happened that making snow angels and returning to the building went kind of into a blur. There was clearly tension between you and Bucky; you looked at him more curiously, and he must’ve noticed it because he suddenly started stammering and nervously touching his hair. You managed to convince him to spend some time with you near the fireplace—now you had to find out what was going on. So while Bucky went in his room to change the clothes, you made two cups of hot chocolate and made a place with blankets on the floor.

“Sit with me, Buck.” You patted the place near you, eyes lingering on his form, standing above you nervously, almost shyly. He looked so cute and hot in those grey sweatpants, tight black t-shirt with dog tags hanging low, and now with fluffy and completely destroyed hair.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your chocolate and looking at the dancing fire in front of you. Even without turning your head, you felt the tension in Bucky’s body and how he was too lost in his head. You put your half-empty cup down on the floor and turned your body to face him.

“What happened there?” Your soft voice pulled Bucky out of his thoughts and his face heated when he noticed how close to him you were sitting.

A mixture of feelings was bubbling inside of him. He knew that he had to do something, say something, to make a first step, but he just couldn’t. You were his best friend, one of the closest people in his life who was always there for him, no matter what others thought or said. It was so hard not to fall in love with you. Bucky accepted it a long time ago. But somehow today was different; it hit him out of nowhere that he needed you and that he couldn’t be just your friend anymore. And it hurt because he knew that he would never be able to atone for his sins or become worthy of your love.

“James, stop it. I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I know that it’s not good. Just tell me, please.” You placed one hand on his stubbled cheek and made him look at you. His pretty blue eyes were so sad and raging with emotions.

“I love you.” It slipped out of his mouth so quickly that you almost missed it. “I love you so much and I did for a long time, but I can't hold it inside anymore. It hurts to be around you and not have a chance to touch you or kiss you the way I want to. Doll, I know that you are too good for me and I should stop—” Before Bucky could finish that sentence and put himself down, you tugged his face closer and connected your lips.

Your brain turned off within a second, as you were drowning in that warm feeling. Bucky froze under your touch, but you didn’t let him go, moving your body even closer and sliding your hand into his hair. When you gently pulled the roots, he unintentionally moaned into your mouth, and it was only then that he realized you had fucking kissed him.

The mug in his hand was put aside carelessly, almost spilling the liquid inside, but neither of you cared about it when Bucky finally gave in and kissed your back, placing his flesh hand on the side of your neck. He groaned from the uncomfortable position that you were sitting in. He suddenly slipped the metal hand under your leg, dragging you onto his knees.

He held you in place firmly, moving his hand up and down your thigh. Your lips were moving in a perfect rhythm while you both savored the taste of each other.

“Fuck, babydoll… You’re addicting.” You giggled at his words, pressing your foreheads together. “I wanted to do that for so long, and especially when we were outside. You looked so precious and cute while building that stupid snowman and I was almost ready to do it…”

“I was hoping that you would kiss me, James.” Your hands slid down his chest, gently playing with the dog tags. “I love you too.” You whispered.

He bit his lip, barely believing that it was real and that the prettiest girl in the whole world had feelings for him too. “I guess at the end of the day, snow is not so awful, right? I won’t let you go anymore, doll.” When you gave him a smile, Bucky drew you in close enough to lie on his chest and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Enjoying the warmth of his body and the soft glow from the fireplace, you knew that it was the best place that you could ever wish for.

“I hope so.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader

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palioom · 6 months

Text

told you I'd be back

summary: joel is back, just like he promised. taking you by surprise and absolutely fulfilling more of your fantasies.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.0k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; cnc (consensual non-consent); oral (f receiving); anal fingering; anal; spanking; degradation; aftercare; light bondage; choking; joel pushes reader's head into water (how tf do you tag that)

a/n: loose continuation of "just a game", but can be read individually // banners by @saradika

• masterlist •

Winter had given to spring, the weather warmer and the skies brighter. The open window in the kitchen let in a gentle breeze, as well as the songs of the birds outside.

It was so quiet and peaceful, she had almost forgotten about their little game, their agreement.

Joel had been visiting Tommy today, all while she had stayed home to cook and bake for a party tomorrow. The anniversary of Jackson. Everyone was invited to bring something and she had wanted Joel far gone from the kitchen while she worked.

The kitchen simply was her place, by her own decision, and she hated when Joel was in the way. His place was on patrol, outside the walls.

She was just about to put the dirty dishes into the sink, already filled with warm water, when he pressed up behind her, his big, calloused hand wrapping over her mouth and muffling her surprised scream.

“Told you I’d be back, sweetheart.” A dark chuckle, his lips attaching to her neck while his hips pinned her against the counter. Joel was already hard in his jeans, fear and excitement flowing through her at the thought, struggling in his grasp.

He really managed to surprise her at just the right time. So intimidating as he moved his free arm to pin her hands behind her back.

“You’ve been such a pretty, little slut. Saw you wearing this dress, moving your hips like you knew I was watching, babygirl.” Joel said, taking his hand from her mouth to grab one of the towels nearby, wrapping it around her wrists just loose enough that blood could flow but not loose enough for her to wiggle free. “You enjoyed these so much the last time, didn’t you?”

How scary it was that he could put her into this headspace so quickly, her breathing fast and shallow as she struggled against the ties.

“No- Why? Please, please don’t-” She pleaded, voice shaking as she turned her head to look at him, the fear inside her so real that tears welled up in her eyes.

His hands roamed over her thighs, pushing up the light blue dress she wore, higher and higher until he could grope her ass, stepping away just enough so he could squeeze it. Fingers digging into her skin so hard she yelped, earning a smack on one side, making her cry out.

It hurt, the sting of it, but the pain quickly mixed with the pleasure which steadily built inside of her.

“Why? Darlin’, I told you I wasn’t done with you yet.” He said, hands wandering up over her sides, reaching her breasts. No bra. Joel let out a low whistle, cupping and grabbing at them, pinching the nipples between two fingers. “Look at you, princess, like you knew I was coming today.”

He pinched harder, tugging at them which made her whine, her back arching. She could feel herself get wet, soaking through her underwear already.

“Been waiting for me to come back?” The shake of her head was answered by a laugh of his, mocking and in disbelief. “Don’t lie, darlin’, you couldn’t wait til I came back, like the little whore you are.”

Grabbing the neckline of her dress, he easily tore it open and she gasped, her breasts spilling out, shivering a little.

She looked down, a little upset about the dress but quickly forgetting about it when he ground his clothed dick against her lower back with a groan, watching his hands go back to teasing her stiff nipples.

Unable to even protest, simply whining and arching her back into his touch, all while her mind screamed no.

“I know you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of my fat cock inside of your little pussy, darlin’.” He said, biting into the soft skin on her neck, making her struggle. “Little slut tried to make her own fingers feel like my cock, didn’t she?”

“N-No- Please-” She sobbed, the tears in her eyes running down her cheeks and onto his hands, trying to push him away. “I didn’t-”

Oh, she did. She had thought so often about how he had thrown her around without care, fucked her into the tiled floor here in the kitchen.

The fact that he knew, it only turned her on more in a twisted way. Knowing it was because Joel knew, but she liked to imagine that he had been watching her, seen her stuff her pussy full with her fingers trying to replicate the size and roughness of him. Without success, of course.

“You did, little girl. I really don’t like lying sluts, darlin’.” He gave one breast a hard smack, her cry so loud that he wrapped his hand over her mouth again. “You want your neighbours to hear what a pretty whore you are for me?”

She shook her head, the tears wetting his hand.

His other hand went back to her ass, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulling them down. But instead of touching her dripping pussy as she thought he would, he pressed one finger against her asshole.

“Remember what I told you last time, sweetheart?” He asked and she could hear the grin in his voice. Her eyes went wide, the string of No’s that left her muffled by his hand. “Yeah, you do. Been giving too much attention to one hole but not the other, darlin’. Gotta fix that today, don’t you think?”

Shaking her head again, more violently this time, he turned her around, his hand on her mouth moving to grab her by the throat, finally able to look at her tear-stained face, eyes trying to plead with him.

“Please, I’ll do anything but-” She said, getting cut off by him squeezing the sides with a smirk. “Not- Not-”

Now he dipped a finger between her dripping folds, avoiding her clit as he did, clicking his tongue.

“I know you want this, look at how wet your little hole is already.” Joel pulled his fingers away again, holding it up for her to see. Wet and glistening, his finger so nice and thick. “Shame it’s not gonna get used today.”

Pressing it against her lips, she kept her mouth shut, shaking her head.

“Open.” Joel said, his face dark and stern. It scared her, how he looked at her.

When she didn’t open her mouth, the hand on her throat squeezed harder, his gaze becoming darker.

“You can make this easy on yourself, sweetheart, or you can keep resisting but trust me, that’s just gonna make it more fun for me but less fun for you.” He said, watching her eyes go wider. Still trying to refuse, he moved his knee between her legs, feeling her hips rut against him, her resolve breaking

His eyes were intense, boring right into her and finally made her give in, opening her mouth so he could press his fingers inside, tasting herself on him.

“There you go, knew you could be an obedient whore if you wanted to.” There was a condescending smile on his lips as he pressed his fingers onto her tongue, moving his knee away again and seeing her face fall. He thrust his fingers in and out, shallow at first before pushing all the way in, making her gag.

Joel smirked at the feeling of her tongue working against his fingers, that she sucked on them despite her protest and despite her tears.

“Gotta work on that gag reflex some time, honey.” He said, his free hand grabbing at her breast, making her moan. “Expected you to do better than that, with how much of a slut you are.”

As he continued, he hit the back of her throat again and again, until he finally showed her some mercy and pulled his fingers out of her mouth, letting her take deep breaths.

“Please- Don’t, I don’t want-” She sobbed but a sharp pinch of her nipple made her stop, slapping her breast after.

“This isn’t about what you want, sweetheart.” Joel said, taking her jaw in his hand, her own saliva smearing on her skin. His grip was bruising. “Did your pretty little brain not realize that? You’re my little whore, and it’s about time that I get you prepared, huh?”

She shook her head as much as she could with his iron grip on her. The mix of fear and excitement was confusing but also arousing, clenching around nothing.

“Oh, darlin’. You’ll love it, don’t worry.” He said, hoisting her onto the countertop behind her before he got on his knees, pushing her dress higher up. “All sluts do.”

Pulling her towards the edge so her ass hung over it, she propped herself up on her elbows behind her, the angle awkward and hurting in her joints. Watching him spread her legs open, then using two of his thick fingers to open her pussy for him.

She could feel his breath on her, feeling too open, too exposed and seen.

Joel hummed in thought, just letting her squirm as his fingers wandered. The rough pads just barely missed her clit, watching her hole pulse at the touch.

All while she still sobbed quietly.

“I take back what I said, darlin’.” He said, eyes meeting hers with a grin that could only mean the worst. One of his fingers swiped over her aching hole, gathering the wetness before moving further down, pressing against her asshole. “I didn’t get to eat your pussy the last time, and she just looks too pretty to neglect her like that. Wet and needy, just for me.”

Slowly, he pressed his finger into her, making her stiffen and try to plead with him.

“Not there, please, not- Please!” She sobbed, feeling the resistance give away as his finger slipped in.

Something about it felt good, in a very strange way.

“Look how easy that was, how hungry your pretty ass is for me.” He laughed, moving his finger in and out of her in weak pumps. Her slick was dripping down over her asshole, helping him move more smoothly. Still, he gathered some saliva, pursing his lips before spitting on it, watching it drip down as he kept moving.

It made her whine in protest, the feeling so good but at the same time humiliating and degrading.

“Like you’ve done this before, or like you’re a natural anal slut, sweetheart.”

He smirked at the noise that left her when he spoke, moving his finger just a little faster. Ducking his head, he began lapping at her, the noises so loud it was like he was doing this on purpose, his free hand keeping her legs spread open for him.

She threw her head back with a sob, hitting the wall and moaning at the pain, all while he let his tongue glide over her weeping hole before he focused on her clit, circling it expertly and then sucking on it hard.

Her arms hurt, her joints aching and the towel digging into her wrists as she laid there, slumped against the wall on top of her kitchen counter, unable to do anything but take his assault, the finger in her ass curling against something that made her cry out and bite her lip. She couldn’t look away, as much as she felt the shame and humiliation on her skin, hot like she was being branded, she just had to watch.

See his brows furrowed in concentration, eyes closed but his cheeks just a little fuller, smiling even while he was eating her out.

She squirmed when he pressed another finger against her tight hole, sobbing and trying to kick him away, feeling it slip in almost too easily, too slick from her arousal. The stretch stung a little, and as she kept moving, he had to wrap his arm around her middle to keep her from wiggling too much, her feet trying to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

It shouldn’t feel this good, she shouldn’t like any of this, tears staining her cheeks and her joints screaming in pain.

But she did, feeling disgusted with herself in a way while her orgasm came closer incredibly fast, his tongue alternating between working on her clit and delving into her aching hole. All while his thick fingers worked her ass open, stretching and curling and pressing into that good spot inside of her.

She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, mixing with the wet, slurping sounds of his mouth on her pussy, squeezing around him and letting him know she was close.

“C’mon, atta girl.” He mumbled, his deep voice muffled by her. “Know you love my fingers in your ass. Be a good slut and show me how much you like me stretching your ass open.”

Pushing them deeper until they were buried up to his knuckles, his dark eyes found hers, practically forcing her orgasm from her as she cried out, biting her bottom lip to try and stay quiet. The back of her head hit the wall again, more tears running down her cheeks as the intense waves rushed through her along the shame, his fingers not letting up their pace, working through how tight she gripped them.

She struggled to breathe as he worked her through it and beyond, lapping up all she gave him, chuckling at her cries. Only when she stopped squirming and pulsing did he let go, pulling his fingers out before spreading her asscheeks and looking at her, wet and spread open for him.

“Wish you could see your ass wide open for me, sweetheart.” He said with a wild grin, looking up at her when he leaned forward again, his tongue licking in and around her asshole.

Trying to wiggle free of her restraints somehow, she found it to be futile, looking at the ceiling as shame still burned hot on her skin, hating that she loved this.

Giving the side of her ass a hard smack as he pulled back, she yelped, watching him get up. A strange mix of excitement and fear settled in her stomach when his hands went to open his belt, his eyes on her.

“So pretty when you cry.” He said, opening the button of his jeans next, breathing heavily. His chin was wet with her, his eyes hungry. It scared her, knowing what he would do. “Aren’t you, sweetheart? So pretty when you beg and cry for me not to touch you when you know deep down you love it.”

She shook her head, whimpering.

It only made him smile wider, his hands coming to grab at her hips, wrangling her off the counter to stand on weak legs, turning her around and pressing her against the edge of the sink. Her shoulders and arms sighed in relief, finally not having her weight resting on them anymore.

“You’re gonna take it like a good whore, babygirl.” Joel said behind her after hearing some rustling, pushing her dress up over her hips, feeling his hard cock press against her ass. “Or I’ll make you take it.”

She winced, feeling the thick head press against her tight hole, suddenly remembering just how big he had felt in her pussy.

“Won’t fit, please.” Her voice was hoarse and quiet, trying to move away but he threaded one hand into her hair, yanking at it harshly which made her cry out in pain. “Please- I’ll do anything but-”

His mouth was on her ear suddenly, his warm breath making the hairs on her neck stand up, trying to look at him as he kept her in an iron grip.

“No, sweetheart.” He said quietly, starting to push into her. “I’ll make it fit, don’t worry. You’ll take all of me and you’ll enjoy it, darlin’. Like the pretty, cock-hungry slut I know you are.”

A strangled noise died in her throat as he pushed all the way in, slowly as if he tried to savour the tightness of her, groaning deeply. She couldn’t do much more than whimper, or try to, the stretch more than what his fingers had tried to prepare her for.

So full, reaching something inside her that she didn’t think was possible, so thick and hard.

And she loved it, her sob turning into a moan as he rocked his hips slowly, carefully almost.

“Knew you’d enjoy getting your ass fucked, sweetheart. Why did you have to play coy like that?” Joel grunted, the feeling of her around his hard cock too much. “You like when I rough you up a little, don’t you, darlin’? Making you cry and beg and whimper but secretly you like it?”

She shook her head as well as she could, moaning when he bottomed out again, stilling there for a moment before drawing back, picking up speed little by little.

“N-No-” Her words caught on her breath, broken as she moaned again and again. She could feel herself drip down her thighs, so wet and her pussy aching for something to fill her, but knowing she wouldn’t get it. “I don’t. I don’t- Please-”

The crack of his hand on her ass cheek echoed in the small kitchen, making her cry out in pain.

“No?” He asked, slapping her ass again, enjoying both the sound of his hand on her skin as well as the noises he drew from her. “Look at yourself, you little whore love having a thick cock in your tight, little ass.”

Tilting her head forward, she could look at herself in the water in the sink, small ripples disturbing the smooth surface with every thrust into her.

Eyes red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears, but an unmistakable expression of lust and hunger on her face, mixed with just a faint hint of fear. Fear of what he could do to her other than this, using her for his own pleasure first and foremost, even though she was finding pleasure in it as well.

Her mouth slightly opened, she really looked hungry for him, for his cock which kept brushing along her walls with every thrust, seemingly reaching deeper and deeper every time.

Something about seeing herself like this while feeling shame and humiliation and fear just aroused her more, feeling herself get closer and closer to another orgasm, clenching around him.

“You like seeing yourself like that, huh, pretty girl?” He asked, breaths laboured as he pounded into her harder, her noises growing in volume. “Gripping my cock like your life depended on it, my pretty anal slut.”

Another smack on her ass had her crying out so loud he was worried someone would overhear them, so close to the edge as well.

And as her noises kept growing, mewling and moaning and whimpering, teetering right on the edge of her orgasm, he shoved her face into the sink, bubbles rising up from what he assumed was a surprised gasp.

To her surprise, her body tensed up immediately as her head became lighter with every second she couldn’t breathe, clenching around him so hard that Joel stuttered in his movements, her entire body vibrating with the orgasm that rippled through her.

So much more intense than anything she ever felt before, wanting to scream from the pleasure but her lungs were devoid of air to do so.

Joel’s orgasm was triggered by hers, stunned by how hard her body shook as he emptied himself inside of her, the spell broken.

Pulling her head up again, she took greedy breaths, her head spinning as air filled her lungs again, his lips on her bare shoulder as she did.

“Fuck, darlin’, you alright?” Joel asked, snapping out of his role, genuinely worried he had gone too far for a moment as she coughed, his hands untying the cloth around her wrists. “Talk to me, baby.”

She braced herself on the counter in front of her, shoulders still aching in pain but her breathing normalizing. Her head still spun, even with his voice so close to her, making it through the fog in her mind, her wet hair clinging to her face.

“Good- ‘M good, Joel.” She said, his hands smoothing down her sides, his cock still buried in her.

He breathed out a relieved sigh, kissing her neck gently. “You’ve done so well, darlin’. Been so good for me.”

Slowly he pulled out of her, attentive to her winces and moans as he slipped out, pressing his chest against her back, his arms circling around her waist.

“Let’s draw you a bath, baby. Get you cleaned up.”

She nodded, still only partly registering his words as she came back into this world, out of the scenario they had played out.

“You were good, Joel.” She said when he lifted her up, carrying her upstairs and letting the tub fill with water. So gentle, settling her down on the closed toilet lid, kissing her forehead. “Had fun.”

He smiled, brushing his hand through her hair.

“You good for a moment?” He asked, brushing his knuckles over her cheek, still wet. “Gonna get you something to drink.”

She nodded, taking the moment he was gone to reflect as the tub kept filling next to her. Thinking about how good it had felt, to be scared but also to be shamed like this. How he had used her ass, how he had smacked her.

Joel was good at this, playing into her fears. And she quite enjoyed how he had pushed her face into the water.

When he was back, he turned off the water, helping her undress and get into the tub, throwing the torn dress into a corner. Ridding himself of his clothes, he slipped into the water behind her, pulling her against him so her back was flush with his chest, caressing her skin below the water.

He took the glass of water he brought her, holding it to her lips as she drank, the cool liquid soothing her raw throat.

There was a moment of silence between them, Joel’s nose buried in her hair as he soothed her with his hands after she had finished her water.

“I kinda liked the thing you did with the sink.” She admitted, her voice quiet. Her hands rested on his thick thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Knowing it was probably bothering him, as it wasn’t something they had talked about before.

“I think I noticed.” Joel chuckled, still a bit uneasy about losing control like that, but her words eased him. Took him out of the headspace of violating her, knowing he didn't, knowing she had enjoyed it. “Was worried I’d gone too far, baby.”

She giggled, sounding exhausted as she turned her head to look up at him.

“You didn’t. I really liked it, felt good.” She kissed his neck, slowly finding herself on the ground again, engulfed by his strong body and the warm water. “But… I could do without you tearing up my favourite dress, you know?”

He laughed with her, kissing her forehead before finding her lips, so soft as they moved against his. Just taking his sweet time as he kissed her, feeling how at ease she was, making him relax as well.

“Sorry, babygirl. I’ll see if we can get it stitched up again.”

She nodded, silence falling over them once more, their hands doing all the talking as they smoothed over each other’s skin. Softly squeezing and just feeling.

Taking away the sting of his smacks and his words, taking away the shame she had felt. Taking away his doubts and replacing them with a better feeling, something akin to pride that he had done a good job here with her.

“Thank you, Joel.” She said softly, sighing.

He hummed behind her, wrapping one strong arm around her middle, keeping her close.

“Thank you, darlin’. My sweet girl.”

In a way, he couldn’t wait for the next time she asked him to do this.

Just as she couldn’t wait, excited about what he thought of doing.

Perhaps with a completely different scenario in mind.