#it has been 2 hours since my last confession

[holybibly]

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part I Part 2

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,6k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, pussy eating, size kink, oral giving and receiving, double penetration, threesomes, dirty talk and more.

A/N: Here they are, our winners. I'm a little overjoyed because I'm about to try out a new style for myself (BTW, which of my styles of my work do you love most? Answer in the comments, it will help me much). One of the things I have to learn is the writing of shorter chapters. This one was so long that I had to split it into two parts. The second part won't take too long either.I'm still trying my best to write smut. So please be gentle with me.

There will be an update in a separate post about the rest of the work. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

One year ago.

It was a feeling of sweet euphoria coursing through your veins. Pure, scalding ecstasy that frothed your blood and clouded your mind. Multicolored neon lights licked greedily at your wet, naked skin, leaving acid green and poisonous pink burns on it. All your senses were overloaded, and every touch felt like a liquid flame. The throbbing bass of the deafening music echoed through your body like the beating of your own heart and completely consumed all of your other senses, except for absolute pleasure.

You lost track of the amount of alcohol you had consumed that day, shot after shot, until a pleasant fog began to form in your head, blocking out all other thoughts. The tequila flowed down your throat like water, and you were sure you'd remember how it tasted in the morning, but you didn't care what you'd done tonight or how you knew you'd feel tomorrow. You didn't care about that. Your aim was to forget yourself, to disappear into the crowd, to merge with the music until any connection to the outside world was nothing more than the beginning of the next day.

Dance, baby, dance!

The atmosphere in the club grew fuzzier and fainter, sweaty, hot bodies pressed closer together merging, the hot touches of forbidden pleasures caressing the skin with the fingertips of strangers, wet lips touching the bare, sticky skin on you shoulders, pressing rough impatient kisses into it. Too many people and too many strangers are here for nothing but fuck.

You weren't a stupid little girl who believed in virginal marriage and pink ponies; to be honest, you were far from that gentle picture. God, Wooyoung, and San had been your best friends since high school, and now you were at university, and if after all that time you couldn't repeat every position in the Kama Sutra by heart, it really surprised you. Innocence and modesty were the last words in your vocabulary, and with Wooyoung's big mouth, you were well aware of the whole of theirs sex life. And when you say everything, you mean every fucking detail, and to Wooyoung's credit, he has a great memory and meticulous storytelling.

How long has it been since you started dancing? 20 minutes—or was it two hours? You could swear that Sang and Ueyoung were at your side a minute ago. Or did they leave you alone on the dance floor hours ago?

You can't remember at all.

Your mind is buzzing, your fingertips are tingling, and your heart is pounding against your ribs from the adrenaline rush of matching the beat of some new-fangled track and creating a world of your own inside your body. This sound will vibrate more and more strongly under your skin until your brain ceases to function, allowing you to let go of all the worries in the world and give yourself over completely to the music. Alcohol really does work wonders.

Man, you felt so good.

In the back of your drunken mind, you can't help but wonder if tonight could have gone differently. Probably, but here you are, drunk as hell, huddled with a stranger on a neon dance floor instead of a soft bed in your favorite man's arms. Where the hell did you take the wrong turn? It would seem that something in the universe hasn't gone quite according to plan. Did you have any idea this morning that your sweet, perfect boyfriend would be cheating on you? Correction: he's been cheating on you for a long time. You probably never would have found out if you hadn't come home from couples earlier than usual and continued to be his "convenient girlfriend." Hell, it wasn't nice, and maybe not as hurtful, if he'd been fucking someone else instead of your best friend. Were you that bad? Weren't you good enough? Either way, you've still got time to destroy yourself—maybe tomorrow, maybe never.

Maybe you'll even think about it when you visit the bastard in the hospital. He should have known better than to even think about cheating, and the clotted blood on San's knuckles proved that. Everyone at the university knew that you were Ateez's golden girl, and to mess with you was to mess with them. And since you, Wooyoung, and San were literally glued to each other, it was tantamount to suicide. 

At the moment, the only thing that was more upsetting than the image of your ex-boyfriend driving his dick all the way up to his balls into your ex-friend's skinny body was the fact that your beautiful vintage sofa would have to be thrown away. Semen doesn't wash off. You checked.

Hongjoong is going to be absolutely devastated. That sofa was the absolute love of his life.

It's all nothing more than a vague memory of the day gone by, mixed into an indecipherable cacophony of shrill screams and blurred images. To be honest, you don't remember much of the chaos, as Wooyoung pressed your face against his chest with such force that you wouldn't be surprised to see your make-up imprinted on the light fabric of his shirt. All you could hear was loud cursing and the sound of a punch in the face. You hoped that San's punch was strong enough to break the asshole's jaw. And after that, there were a few hours of tears and emotional crisis until they'd had enough and pulled you into this club with a gentle and accepting hand: "Come on, baby, you could use a break and a change of scenery" from San, and "Fuck that scumbag, go show him what he's lost, baby" from Wooyoung. It was an absolute mystery how the two of them synchronized perfectly.

You have no idea what you would do without these two.

A few more minutes go by in this way, until you feel hot hands on your hips, pulling you closer to the hard body on your back. You don't have to turn around to see that it's San; the scent of his perfume, mixed with the sweat and the smoke of a freshly smoked cigarette, makes you dizzy, and you rest your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the intoxicating mixture. Suddenly you want to get as close to him as possible, turn around and press your face against his hard, structured chest, breathing in deeply and sinking into him completely. Your arms reach out behind you and wrap around San's neck, tangling your fingers in the scarlet strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You feel it on your back as the action makes him purr like a cat. You wonder what other sounds you might be able to catch him making.

You shake yourself. The thought of it sends shivers down your arms and makes all the muscles in your lower abdomen tingle.

You should stop. These are bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

"Damn, baby girl, how much did you drink while we were away?" Wooyoung's voice is rough and husky, but his touch is gentle and careful as his fingers intertwine with yours. He has always touched you in a way that no other man in the world, with the exception of him and San, has ever been able to touch you. There was no comparison with your ex's touch. Wooyoung's touch is a promise. A promise to protect, to care, and perhaps to love? You could swear you saved the planet in your past life because you have such great friends in this one, or maybe a little more than friends, but you're not sure what to call this feeling. 

You had been friends for so long that it wasn't weird not have a crush on Wooyoung or to dream of being married to San. The guy was literally a walking husband; he was second only to Songhwa in that respect, but please, Hwa was the epitome of husband material. You might even have wanted to be in the middle of it, sandwiched between hot bodies while they literally fucked the life out of you. But it was all just thoughts. Fleeting dreams that clung to the edges of your consciousness. You were the type to date, and they were the type to fuck. You were different when it came to loving. In any case, it was all a long time ago. You had a boyfriend, and Wooyoung and San collected girls like Pokémon. Somehow, you were sure that if you slept together, your friendship would end.

You weren't ready for that. With a strength that only Jongho could match, you ignored any romantic feelings for them

"Mmm… Woo, I have no recollection, but I had fun." You licked your lips as if you were trying to taste the lingering taste of the tequila and opened your eyes to stare straight into Wooyoung's face, full of worry. He could have been the biggest bitch if he wanted to be. But for you, that 'maternal' instinct of overprotection has kicked in. You stare at him unblinkingly in that moody light, he looks beautiful, to the point of being stupidly handsome, so damn handsome that you want to pull him to you and kiss him without explanation or reason. And you can do that because you know he's never, ever going to say no to you but kiss you? Wooyoung's tongue will be the first to enter your mouth. He will suck on it like a drunk, and he will hold on to you until there is almost no air left in your lungs.

"We leave you alone, gongjunim, for five minutes, and you're already in trouble. Shall I give you a lesson in obedience?" San is speaking into your ear, loud enough for you to hear him clearly, each word coming through the loud electric bass. His voice is too sultry to be sober enough. Woo probably talked him into a few shots, although he always got drunk pretty easily. The two were threatening each other. And to you as well.

The evil voice inside your head grinned: You know you want it. He's going to punish you for being such a bad, naughty girl. He will teach you to be the best little girl for him and for them and to follow all his rules. He'll make you beg and make you cry…

Fuck, girl, come to your senses. Since when did you start to think with your pussy instead of using your brain? Or do you automatically turn into a horny, over-excited idiot after a break-up? Turn on your brains; they are your best friends.

Completely ignoring San's words, you whimpered:

"I'm thirsty." Your tongue is dry in your mouth, and your lips feel unpleasantly rough as you say the words. It looks like the fun's over for today.

San can't help but laugh at your capricious behavior, and you wriggle restlessly in his arms, trying to free yourself from his firm grip, but he only manages to hold you even tighter. You sigh in annoyance and decide to try your luck with Wooyoung.

"Woo, help me." You whine again, reaching out and pulling Wooyoung closer so that your forehead rests against his collarbone.

He smells good, like sandalwood and vanilla, like home.

Wooyoung lifts your face with his fingertips. The touch is soft and comforting, despite the roar of the music and the crowd of strangers around you. He stares intently into your eyes, almost too serious for your drunken haze. He hopes to find something more than alcohol-induced excitement.

"Come on, baby. It's time to go home." He releases your hand and carefully wipes the sweat from your forehead and cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers lingering on your lips for a moment, and you playfully stick out your tongue and lick the pads of his fingers. God, may you not remember this tomorrow.

"But I don't want to…" You purse your lips again. You turn your head towards San, looking for his support. "Sanni, let's stay a bit more." Your big, shining eyes are not making it easy for him, but you were already quite drunk, and judging by the way your body was leaning against him, you could hardly stand properly.

"Wooyoung's right, gongjunim, it's over for you today."

Something wild in you just wants to be a brat and start arguing, but the rational part of your brain wins out. You sigh tiredly and try to wriggle out of his grip, and of course you stumble, grabbing Wooyoung's biceps with your hands in an attempt to stay on your feet and not break your high-heeled leg, which would be a great way to end the night.

A strong arm immediately wraps around your waist. It digs lightly into the exposed skin between your top and your jeans. You can feel the coldness of the thin band of his ring. It actually burns from how sensitive you were now.

"I got you, chagi." San whispers softly and hoarsely into your ear, and you cling even more tightly to Wooyoung's arm as your legs begins to shake, but no longer from the alcohol you've drunk and the tiredness, but from his sultry tone. Damn, was that a saturi, or was it just your imagination?

"We'll be on our way now, for sure." Wooyoung takes your hand once more, pulling it away from his bicep, and quickly leads you through the crowd of sweaty bodies, completely ignoring your feeble protests until you see the flashing exit sign. The red neon sign brings you ominously close to the point where you are left alone with them. And you feel San's heavy presence at your back like never before. 

The sounds of the city swallow you up and make you dizzy as Wooyoung opens the heavy metal door. Couples are kissing all over the place. Noisy groups of people are huddled together waiting for a taxi or sharing a single joint, leaving a faint smell of weed in the air. You can still hear the vibrating bass of the music that is pouring out of the club; it echoes in your head in an unpleasant way, with a slight throbbing pain. All of a sudden, all you want to do is find yourself in a warm bed, snuggled up against San or Wooyoung, or even better, against both of them.

San's hand on your waist tenses as you bend over to hail a taxi. Wooyoung's hands come down on your hips, hot and strong, and just like that, you find yourself sandwiched between them, their bodies shielding you safely from the searing cold and dirty stares. You could swear that you can hear Wooyoung swears to himself while a drunk guy is moving his tongue between two spread fingers and looking in your direction. San's body tenses instinctively. What's with all this protection? We're not in some kind of alpha-character romance; you can take care of yourself.

But in spite of that, your body still relaxes, your head leans back against Wooyoung's shoulder, and you rub your face against his like a cat.

"You're so drunk, baby." Woo chuckles and gives you a light kiss on the top of your head. "That's my girl."

My girl, just the sound of that one sentence makes a little fire start in your belly. What the hell is wrong with you today? A week ago, you were rinsing his mouth after Woo drank too much, and now you're ready to lick his mouth from the inside. 

Fuck.

All these thoughts make you lose track of what's happening until you feel the smooth leather of the car seat beneath you and the soft touch of San's lips on your bare shoulder. You moan, either from annoyance or excitement. San just smiles and presses his lips harder against you. Finally, you are going home.

You faintly hear Wooyoung giving the Uber driver the coordinates of your apartment complex, your hands intertwining again, relaxing further as Wooyoung's head rests on your shoulder. His long hair tickles the back of your neck.

Sobriety slowly begins to clear your head as the ride continues. You're still drunk, but you're much more aware than before.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but in the confined space of the car's backseat, they can hear it well. It sets them in motion again, hands clasped around you with renewed confidence. You play mindlessly with the silver rings that adorn Wooyoung's long fingers, and you don't go unnoticed by San's light strokes on the outside of your thigh.

"All for you, chagiya." San whispers back and gives Wooyoung a meaningful look. There's something special between the two of them—a dialogue that is spoken without words but in which they both know exactly what is meant. If only you knew what was going on inside their heads…

You let your hand drop to Wooyoung's muscular thigh and ran the palm of your hand over it a couple of times, feeling the tight muscles under the skin of his trousers. He covers the palm of your hand with his own and squeezes it in a silent, gentle gesture of affection.

"I love you guys…" You whisper, sticking out your tongue to lick your suddenly dry lips. You hear them giggling together before you feel San press his nose against the soft skin of your collarbone, rubbing against it like a cat. He's the ultimate cinnamon bun; how he can be someone who's had sex with half the university is still a mystery to you.

"I love you too, gongjunim." And he means it, like he really loves you—much more than a friend should.

"Mmm, I love you more. You know that, baby." Wooyoung bites the skin on the back of your neck in a playful way, and you feel his wet tongue pressing against the site of the bite for a few seconds. 

"You're not sleeping in my bed. Woo, stop it; that tactic won't work on me anymore."

He whimpers back with a puff of his swollen lips, turning his face away from you with an irritated roll of his eyes as you and San laugh, his arms naturally wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body so that you're practically sitting on his lap. A faint melody, from some kind of soft track, pours out of the speakers and lulls you into a state of serenity. You find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. Your body relaxes even more in San's arms.

The next twenty minutes fly by, and you only begin to wake up when the cab door slams behind you and Wooyoung drags you into her flat. The fobs on your keys jingle loudly in the silence of the corridor as San fiddles with them to unlock the door. You sway in Woo's arms as you wait for the door to your apartment to open. The soothing scent of neroli and orchids greets you as you enter, your body automatically relaxing into the safety of your personal space, and you fall wearily into the armchair opposite sofa.

As the door closes, you hear the sound of the boys hurrying down the corridor, taking off their shoes and jackets. You can imagine San carefully placing his shoes next to yours and Wooyoung's one shoe being kicked further down the corridor. So damn different.

Woo sprints into the kitchen, slams the door of the fridge shut, and there is a bottle of cold water in front of your face.

"Here you go, starlight." He sinks to the floor at your feet and leans back against them, resting his head in your lap as he does so. You run your fingers through his long black hair, brushing it away from his face, and meet his gaze with your own. It's familiar; away from the deafening music and the sweaty crowd, you feel much better now, despite the fact that a few hours ago your ex was fucking your friend on the couch across the hall. This is still your home, and you're sure that in a few days your entire apartment will be taken apart and put back together by the caring hands of Seonghwa and Yeosang, when there won't be a trace of your failed past relationships left.   "Are you okay?" San asks, leaning against the doorjamb.

"I'm… fine, yeah. Probably not as good as I'd like to be, but I'll be fine; it'll just take some time. At the moment, I'm just tired of it all."

"Go take a shower, sweetie; San and I will take care of the rest." Wooyoung says as he gets up from the floor and pulls the leather jacket off of his shoulders. The wide collar of his black t-shirt shows the tattoo on his back. You always found that part of him extremely sexy.

You rise from your chair, grimacing at the pain in your legs after so many hours in high heels. Your top falls to the floor as you take it off, the lace of your black lingerie clinging to your body like a second skin. They've seen you naked more than once or twice, and in any case, you're not one of those cute girls who blushes at every opportunity. You have to struggle to pull your jeans down your legs because they are so tight around your arse. The next thing to come off is your underwear, which you leaves halfway to the toilet somewhere. You let them take care of that too.

The level of intimacy that you have with San and Wooyoung is so high that it virtually erases any barrier to acceptable standards of friendship. Years of shared memories, from when you started high school to when you practically star graduates of Seoul National University. God, the things you've done and the situations you've been in—it's been a hectic time. The three of you literally know each other to your bones—sharing habits, feelings, clothes, and even some sexual practices under the influence of alcohol and chance. You've seen them fuck; they've held your hair when you've puked, helped with periods, you've seen them jerking off in the morning or heard them moaning loudly in the bathroom, you all watched porn together—it's all been part of your friendship. In a way, the three of you have been completely and utterly shameless.

You close the bathroom door and stare wearily at your reflection in the large mirror. Your hair is disheveled from those beautiful waves there's not a trace, your skin is glistening with sweat, your make-up looks messy—a bit of smudged eyeliner, smeared lipstick—and in general, you look like you've been beaten up. The pupils of your eyes are dilated, even though you're still feeling sleepy, and there's a bit of puffiness under your eyes from previous tantrum.

Wow, you look like a real mess. You turn away from the mirror, turn on the tap of water, and sink back into your usual daily routine. The water cleanses not only your body but also your mind, spectacularly washing away all the memories and regrets of the day.

It seems to be at least a minute before you hear the sound of a heavy knock on the door. San's voice is muffled over the sound of water and steam, rough, husky, and incredibly sexy, sending electric shocks through your body and unexpected heat building between your thighs. Your fingers turn the handle, stopping the water from flowing, and you take a few long breaths, trying to get rid of this strange feeling. What's wrong with you today?

"Chagi, are you okay?"

You mooed in response, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around your body before opening the door to face him. He's standing across the bathtub, slumped against the wall, so soft and fluffy, when you open the door. San has changed into a pair of loose pajamas, which are very cute, according to your taste. He has washed off his make-up and generally looks more like an adorable bun than the voluptuous demon he is supposed to be at the university.

"What the hell took you so long? Wooyoung's already starting to climb the wall from here." He whimpers with a pucker on his lips.

"I needed some time to myself, Sanni."

He bites his bottom lip before nodding. His burning gaze travels over you from head to toe, lingering a little longer than usual on your thighs and breasts, and your body heats up at the sensation. When your eyes meet, there is an emotion that you are unfamiliar with that hovers just above the surface of his gleaming dark irises. Something predatory flashes across his face, just for a second, but it's enough to make your skin tingle with an unknown sense of anticipation.

"Just a few more minutes, and then I'll be on my way, all right? Tell Wooyoung to be a little more patient."

"Alright."

You step back into the tub, close the door behind you, and press your back against the wall. You bite your lips, trying to hold back a groan of disappointment. It's not that after all these years of friendship you've never felt sexually aroused in their presence; after all, Wooyoung and San were so damn attractive and even flirtatious to the point of insanity, they fit the cliché of lusty, popular boys at university so well.

Perhaps you had once or twice wondered what it would be like to be close to one of them, or even better, both of them—what their bodies would feel like and what their tastes would be like. Yet, consciously ignoring any romantic urges in their direction, you buried those thoughts deep in the back of your mind. You didn't want to think about how beautiful San's smile was, with those sweet dimples, or how your skin burned under Woo's playful, incessant kisses. But those were only fragmentary thoughts, a dangerous feeling creeping into your heart.

For a while your hunger for them was satisfied by a succession of boy toys until you found yourself a steady boyfriend, well until you caught him with one of your girlfriends tonight. Either way, the sex was hardly satisfying enough to get too upset about, but still, the ache in your heart and your bottom-punched self-esteem stung like a bitch.

But today there was something different between the three of you; on a day like any other, there was a different feeling. It wasn't anything special; San's tearful face had been tucked between your breasts more than once or twice after another romantic fiasco, and Wooyoung had been a complete fool in love, getting burned so many times because he wore his heart on his sleeve. You have been friends long enough to know how to comfort each other after breaking up. You have never experienced such a tension between the three of you before.

There was a barely perceptible change in the air; there was an electric tension in the chemistry between you; a crackle in the air like a thunderstorm was about to break. The storm was coming at a furious pace, and you weren't sure if you were going to be able to handle it. To end up between them was like voluntarily stepping into a hurricane rated at twelve. Was that what you wanted? You probably did. Did they want it? There was no way of knowing. Would things have changed if you'd fucked, yes, of course, but would you have had a 'happily ever after', you weren't so sure.

You brush your hair with your fingertips, hissing in pain when you can't untangle the tangled locks, and continue this compulsive action as you step out of the suddenly claustrophobic space of the bathroom. The corridor is cold, and the change in temperature causes goose bumps to run down the length of your skin. Cold air climbs under the towel's edges, clinging uncomfortably to your tender inner thighs.

"I left some fresh clothes for you on the dresser next to the bathtub. Didn't you notice?" San asks. His pronunciation is as simple as if he hadn't been the one who just a few minutes ago ate you alive with his eyes. He is sitting on the arm of the chair Wooyoung is comfortably ensconced in, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

The couch, which was once your favorite place to be, is clearly in disuse. You're already anticipating Hongjoong's endless complaints about it. That couch was the love of his life.

Wooyoung has changed his clothes too; there's no trace of the seductive college hottie left; the stretchy top of the oversized shirt slipping off his shoulders to expose his collarbones made him look so tiny and cuddly; and the soft disheveled hair falling over his face gave his features something adorably puppyish. They both looked homely and terribly comfortable, as if this was legitimately their home and not yours, as if their place had always been here, the space they belonged to.

"It's stuffy. I don't want to get dressed." You reply, pulling the towel tighter around your chest. You actually contradict yourself by wrapping your arms around yourself, but you don't want to explain anything to them either.

"Personally, I like it all; you can keep going, baby."

"Of course you like it, Woo; we all know about your love for exhibitionism." You say this nonchalantly and let your body fall into Wooyoung's lap, not caring that you're actually naked under the towel or that his shirt is getting wet as the water from your wet hair drips onto it. You're trapped between their bodies again, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the feeling. You savor his scent and the feel of his smooth skin as your face sinks into the curve of Woo's neck.

You all sink into a nice, relaxing silence as the boys scroll through endless social media feeds, your eyes grow heavier, and the need for sleep becomes more palpable. But you love it so much—just being around them, not thinking about anything else, feeling the way San's fingers play with your hair while you twirl the rings on Woo's fingers—that you probably have a fetish for his hands. Anyway, you don't mind.

Minutes go by like this, slowly approaching an hour. You feel content and warm as you sit on Wooyoung's gorgeous muscular thighs. He is humming something to himself, drawing scattered patterns with his fingertips on your bare thigh. Your lips press against Woo's neck, leaving a sweet kiss on his skin. He squirms beneath you, his fingers clenching tighter and tighter on your thigh. God, he's so hot.

"You're so needy, kitten," San says with laughter before you feel his lips on your shoulder. It's not a chaste, friendly kiss; no, his lips are wet with saliva, open so you can feel the scorching breath and his tongue tip gliding across your skin in slow motion. San is licking you like a cat, damn it.

"Is this a side effect of the break-up or something like that? Look at you, Peach. You're a horny mess." Wooyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity and pulls you closer to his chest. You slide down his thighs, and the towel scratches a little higher, a little more, and they can easily see your pussy. At that thought, the familiar throbbing between your legs reminds you just how wet you are, the viscous, clear liquid threatening to run down the inside of your thighs and stain Woo's clothes.

Praying that neither of them will notice how flushed and horny you feel at this moment, you squeeze your legs together and slide your hand down to pull the towel further down your legs, as far down as possible in this position.

You're so thirsty; the lust is bubbling just beneath the surface of your skin, and the heady mix of their scent and the residual alcohol in your blood is making you feel like such a needy slut.

The rational part of your brain tells you that you should be in a completely different state right now—a mess of tears and snot, probably on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. Somewhere between the self-destruction of your own self-esteem and a crisis of identity, But here you are, practically naked in Woo's arms, with an obscenely wet pussy and no shame whatsoever.

In contrast to the'real' half of you, something small and evil urged you to go further, to spread your legs, to expose yourself shamelessly, to ride Wu's thigh and have a hot rodeo until you couldn't cum any more, and then let San use you however he wanted; you don't mind at all being a chew toy for him. Hell, boy, all you want to do is let him fuck your brains out.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip with force; the taste of blood is almost in your mouth.

"Fuck me. I want to sleep, baby. You can use me. Let's go to bed."You whine, puffing up your cheeks.

"Okay, okay, baby, let's put the princess to bed." San lifts you from your place on Woo's lap and pulls you tightly against his chest, and you can clearly feel every ripple of muscle on that perfect body. When did he have time to get that big?

He carries you into the bedroom like a princess. Wooyoung's shuffling footsteps can be heard behind you, and you throw your head back to meet his gaze.

"We had a change of sheets. Personally, I'm in favor of burning all his stuff."

"Have I told you I love you?"

"Mmm, let me think. Maybe just a few thousand times." He gives you a cheeky smile, and you laugh.

"Love, love, love, love, I love you so much. You're the best boys in the world. You sing with a big smile on your face, and the sound of their laughter fills the bedroom. 

"We love you too; we love you so much."

If you weren't so drunk and tired, your brain might have been able to process Wooyoung's changed intonation, but you completely ignored any possible hint of how they felt about you.

San gently laid you down on the bed, and Woo's lithe body crawled beside you, snuggling against your side, hugging you like his personal teddy bear.

"Woo, let her go; she has to put on some clothes." He pulls off his T-shirt and holds the soft fabric out in front of you. Your hands lazily crumple it up in an attempt to decide whether or not to put it on, but the boys decide for you. 

Wooyoung sits you down and holds you tightly by the waist while San pulls the T-shirt over your head and pulls off the towel at the same time. You are still naked, but you are a bit more decent now.

"You're such good friends. I wish I could date someone like you." You lie back down, and Woo's hands paddle you again, as if it's his natural reflex. You're not aware of the exchange of glances between the two of them. The silent conversation that goes on between them is completely ignored.

"Hmm, someone like us?" San sits down on the bed in front of you, and in an instant, your fingers cling to his naked chest. You want so badly to sink your teeth into the smooth, bulging muscles of his chest. "Baby, aren't you afraid we're going to be jealous?"

"You and jealousy, come on. I went out with Suho, and none of you minded."

"It's because the idiot has a tiny dick." With an evil giggle, Woo whispers in your ear.

"Wooyoung!"

"He's right, chagia. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"

"San, not you too." You whine and give him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Well, if you were with someone like us, you'd know what it means to have a good fuck. We'd fuck your brains out, baby."

"Jung Wooyoung, wash your filthy mouth. San, tell him." You call out to your more rational friend in a resentful tone to calm Woo down.

"Well, I can't say that he's wrong. You won't be on foot for days after we are." The grin on San's face is so predatory that you can't tell that it's your sweet himbo friend. It's making the muscles at the bottom of your stomach clench in anticipation of this promise.

"You do know that I used to sleep with Yunho before I started dating Suho, right? You can hardly come as a surprise to me; he's very good."

"We know." Woo hissed in annoyance, and his arms tightened around you, planting his foot on your thigh and completely cutting off any attempt you might have made to pull away from him, even if you wanted to.

"But we're so much better." A hot palm slides just over your waist near to Wooyoung's hand, practically covering your breasts. You feel the full weight of it on your body.

"In your dreams."

For a few moments, you close your eyes and fall silent. The comforting silence lulls you to sleep, but there is one thought that keeps you from falling completely into a deep slumber. With a groan, you come back to reality, blinking slowly as your brain forms the words that seem to be too heavy on the tip of your tongue—heavy, but so damned sweet.

"I wanna… I mean, let's have threesome." 

"Sorry, what!" Wooyoung almost yells, sitting up in bed in an instant and staring at you with his eyes wide open. If the situation wasn't so serious, you could laugh at his shocked expression. "Is it an offer for sex? Right now?"

"Jesus, Wooyoung, just let me finish." You sit down as well and take each one of them by the hand. "We graduate next year, and if… if we are all free and you don't mind, maybe we can have threesomes."

"I'm ready. Why wait?" Woo clings to you like a leech. He presses every inch of his body against you so tightly that you practically melt into each other. His skin is hot, and you can feel his breath brushing against your ear and his lips touching it as he speaks. "Come, Y/N, we can do this now. I'm going to take you to heaven."

"Wooyoung, I'm serious."

You have to look at San, who's been silent the whole time. The look in his eyes is so dark, full of lust and hunger. It doesn't leave you for a second.

"San…"

"I'll do anything for you, Y/N."

"I'll be ready for you in a year if you're still willing. Now get out of the room, the both of you. Tonight I'll be alone in bed."

You push them off the bed, San rolls over on the floor with a clatter, and Wooyoung jumps up like a man who has been scalded.

"But chagi…" He whines, loud and nasty, as San drags him out of the room.

"Sweet dreams, gongjunim." That's the last thing you hear before the door slams shut behind them and you're left alone in the bedroom.

You can hear their muffled voices coming from the hallway, trying so hard to keep quiet. Wooyoung's incessant complaining, mixed with San's low muttering, effectively lulls you to sleep. You probably won't even remember tonight, let alone this stupid proposal, but little do you know that neither San nor Wooyoung have any intention of letting you forget.

You are going to have a very funny year in front of you.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez ot8 #ateez imagines #seonghwa smut #ateez san #san smut #hongjoong smut #ateez wooyoung #yunho smut #woosan

[yxami]

I’m behind I know, I’m rushing 😓😓

desc: yandere victim x kidnapper reader, more of him kidnapping you at this point, and happy nut November 2, nsfw, all consensual, mentions of obsession, overstimulation, edging, etc

Recently, you’ve allowed Lawrence to roam around in your home, he has yet to run out the door and claim freedom. Honestly, you’re not even bothering to put any of the keys in a remote place like you used to when you had no trust in this… relationship?

Kidnappship? Whatever it was, it was odd but it somehow worked.

Ren would cook all the meals you’d have throughout the day, acting as a house husband rather than a past victim of kidnapping, if anything you were the hostage. He was able to snitch you out at any time if he ever got bored of the routine he established.

Your coworkers truly believed you managed to tie someone down, judging from all the sticky notes that were with a series of packed lunches, something you have never brought before. Usually it was just a sandwich from whatever place was close by.

“Good luck at work honey, I miss you already! Heart heart?” Your coworker read out loud, grin growing as they continue to poke fun with how you’ve been bringing packed lunches with notes, and the words never repeated, each day it was a new confession.

“Shut up” You’d roll your eyes, always denying any sort of suggestion that you were with someone, even though Lawrence was always ready to act like the two of you were dating.

“Whaddya’ mean I can’t pack notes anymore? You don’t like them?” He immediately feels his heart crumble against this small rejection, he holds his chest as if you’ve stabbed him.

“It’s just.. my coworkers think I have a partner and I don’t need them snooping in my personal life” You groan, already knowing he was going to be either mad or throwing a crying fit over this.

Your mind bounced on whether you should read his diary tonight to see if he was going to hold a grudge.

“They shouldn’t be interested in your personal life anyways! I want them to know that you’re taken by me” He pushes his pink lips into a slight frown, reminding you how pretty he looks even when he’s upset with you.

“Ren you know I’m not in love with you right?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, hoping you wouldn’t have to dive into another conversation about how this was just about ransom and not something like his delusions.

But you already know he’s accepted that you love him even if you deny deny deny, so you’ve recently given up on those talks.

“I know you are, stop trying to make me upset, you know I don’t like it when you lie” He crosses his arms, tempted to jump into yours like he always does, even when you’re the reason he’s upset, but he’s convinced himself that he can last longer.

“Fine, I do, but can you just stop with the notes?” You curl your arm behind the small of his back, leaning against him as he presses himself against the kitchen counter.

“Hmm” He hums, enjoying your loving touch, hugging your lower back as he rests his chin on the top of your head. “Okay, but it’s not fair if I don’t get something in return” He backs up his upper body a bit to let you see his pitiful puppy pout in order to get you to agree.

He’s found that this tactic works well, and he’s managed to use it about 5 times instead of verbally begging like he usually does, he’s been keeping track.

“Alright, what do you want? More cooking supplies? Cuddles?”

He shakes his head.

“Free access to my phone for an hour?” You tilt your head, assuming that would work since he loves to check on whatever you do, of course with your permission, most of the times anyways..

He hums disapprovingly, which has you guessing of what he could possibly want since those were his favorite things in the entire world, all of them placing 2nd while you were his 1st.

“I want to.. be closer with you” He mumbles hesitantly, looking more red than his usual tint of blush when he’s teased or flustered.

“What did you want to start sleeping in the same bed?” You say casually, even though you should probably establish boundaries with someone you claim to not be your partner and just a temporary roommate.

But it’s a little too late for that, you’ve gotten attached to having him around, cooking you your food and such, but you wouldn’t accept that until later.

“No I mean like being together.. the way couples do” He squirms around, fiddling with his hands in his lap, something he always does when he’s upset. There’s a whiny tone in his voice, a bit exasperated from anxiety at having to explain further.

“Are you trying to say fuck?” You state without any nervousness that Ren would insist you need.

He nods quickly.

You’re asking yourself how you got into this situation but you could’ve said no at any time, you could even kick him out and tell him that you need space so there wasn’t a chance for him to get mad if you had a reason.

And you knew he wasn’t the type to go and tattle on you to his parents, if you had to guess then he’d likely just beg to come back rather than throw an angry fit and get you locked up, that would be out of character for him if he did.

But you make excuses, plenty of them to ignore the feelings you’ve been hiding for awhile now.

“Please don’t go so fast” He looks up with tears threatening to spill, holding onto your skin so tightly you think it could bruise. You run your hands down his sides, calming him down from his high, just to have him drunk on the unexplainable feeling once again.

“M’ goin at a normal pace, you’re just so sensitive” You hum, pumping his cock with your hand, slowly teasing at the veins by tracing them softly with your fingers. He lets out a throaty whine, knowing you were right but being too distracted to agree.

He bucks his hips into your palm, trying to satisfy his own greedy need for your touch even when he’s so overstimulated. “When.. when can I be inside of you?” He whispers, rubbing his tears away that finally ran down his face.

“I thought this was already too much for you to handle?” You tease at how just a few minutes ago he was pleading that your hand on his cock was too much for his perverted mind.

“Not anymore.. please?” He begs, sitting up to kiss at your jaw and lips, biting your bottom lip as he pleads with a few more whispers.

“If you say so” You giggle, already knowing he was going to be telling you to slow down soon enough. He helps you by lining his sensitive head right at your hole, easily slipping in as you lower yourself onto him. He could feel your slick insides welcome him with ease and he couldn’t help himself but thrust up.

You bite down on your shirt that you have yet to remove, not allowing a surprised whimper or sound to be let out. Lawrence notices it quickly and pouts, moving his hands to clasp around your hips as he helps you bounce on his cock.

“You’re really warm” He comments, feeling his face heat up as his mind finally picks up on the fact that the two of you are fucking. Something he’s dreamed about since day one of being here, and it’s nothing like he’s imagined.

You’re softer, and tighter, and there’s a little whimper you let out whenever his cock bottoms out right where the head of his cock can push against a sensitive spot deep inside you.

Everything’s different than he imagined, and he loves everything about it.

Once you gained your composure you pick up the pace, moving your hips to tease and thrust his cock inside, and the flustered expression left on his face from how good you felt had you more motivated to ruin him.

“I’m all yours, you’re so nice to me, I love you” He continued to prattle, insistent on making sure you know exactly how he feels right now. He needs to let you know, he’s fumbling over his words even more when you run your hands down his chest.

You weren’t sure whether it was his cock or him as person making you whisper reciprocating confessions against his neck as you kiss his skin. “I love you too..” You mumble, feeling embarrassed at the vulnerable moment. Lawrence perks up and pounds into you faster than he’s ever done in the last few minutes.

“S—say that again? Please? Cmon, what did you say?” He pants, desperate to hear your sweet words, he could’ve sworn he heard you say I love you, something he’s wanted to hear for so long.

“I didn’t say anything..!” You look away, cursing at yourself internally for giving this idiot the satisfaction of finally having his love reciprocated after so much of you being in denial.

“I heard you say it, please” He complains, needing to heard those three words leave your lips, and he’s certain he’ll heard them again soon enough.

Even if it takes multiple rounds

#yxami’s yam #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #pls request #gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere obsession #yandere boy #desperate yandere #yandere victim #yandere kidnapee #yandere x kidnapper reader #kidnapped yandere #crazy yandere #obsessive yandere #yandere nsft headcannons #yandere nsft #no nut november #lawrencemyoc

[tragedybunny]

A Little More Than a Nibble - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion wakes you up at camp looking for a late night snack. You both end up with something a little more. (Fluff, Angst)

Yes I'm on the Astarion train. How can you not love him?

This short is set before Astarion's act 2 confession

Something called to you from the dark, stirring you out of sleep. Fragments of the waking world brushed against your consciousness; a dying fire, a far off owl calling, a presence hovering over you. The cold influx of terror lasts only a moment as you realize the presence is not only familiar but expected at this point. “Are you awake darling?” Astarion’s voice exudes the beguiling charm that’s become so familiar to you, familiar enough you’ve started to catch the hint of artifice that lays behind it.

Sleep-heavy eyes drift open to find him kneeling down next to you, red eyes fixed on you. The deep slumber is hard to shake off and your answer is no more than a drowsy whisper. “I am now.”

“Oh apologies my sweet but I was just wondering if…” He lets the words hang for a moment, waiting for your mind to catch up, to finish the implication. Really though it could only be about one of two things since you’re the one in camp that’s been both fucking and feeding him. And with the ungodly hour, you can easily conclude which it is.

“No luck hunting?” He deserves at least a little teasing for waking you like this.

“Actually I was thinking about you and couldn’t get the taste of you off my tongue. Would you mind terribly if I had just a little taste, just a slight nibble?” Perhaps you’ve been too indulgent with him and he’s grown used to getting his way with you, a habit you really should put to an end. If only the mere suggestion of those teeth at your neck didn’t make you quiver with excitement.

Still, it won’t do to placidly let him have his way every time. “You say slight nibble, and I wake up woozy the next morning. I fail to see what I get out of this little arrangement.”

For a moment, you think you see the slightest hint of hurt at your refusal, before he swiftly resumes his flirtatious persona. “Why, you get my gratitude and affection. Both of which are undying, I might remind you.”

It’s not the honeyed words that convince you, it’s the ghost of an emotion, the possibility of vulnerability, that there’s something beneath the mask he shows everyone, even you. Not that you would really refuse, you’re too far gone for that. Life as the daughter of a noble house of Baldur’s Gate primed you for this, to fall for a man so wrong, and dangerous, and not at all anything you should want. Rebellion after years of complicity, years of forced perfection and crafted smiles, of doing everything expected of you. The Illithid ship had given you a terrible burden, but it had also been more freedom than you’d ever known in your life. Freedom that didn’t necessarily come with inbuilt wisdom. Silently, you throw back the covers, beckoning him into the bed roll beside you. With a satisfied smile, he gracefully slides in, body pressed against yours.

The first time you’d let him do this it had been awkward, sloppy almost, a fact explained by the later revelation you were his first. Now familiarity has led to comfort, intimacy of its own sort. Different than just sex, but no less thrilling. An arm around your waist, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips brushing up against it in a gentle kiss first that makes you shiver before the bite.

The sharp ice of those teeth piece your skin and drive into the blood flowing in your veins. Then you feel it, the echo of your blood flowing into his veins. It had frightened you the first time but now it sends a wave of bliss through you. An involuntary sigh escapes you and you know if his mouth wasn’t full, he’d be tormenting you for how much you enjoy it. Arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him tighter against you, as though you are begging for more. You are though aren’t you? You can’t get enough of this, of him.

Drifting away, you lose yourself in him, a sweet surrender to an inexorable pull. As promised though, he’s only taken a taste when he lets up, pulling away, and licking any drops from your skin. The control he’s starting to show is impressive, even if it leaves you yearning for the strange connection of his feeding. Knowing that he never lingers after any encounter between the two of you, you unwrap your arms which feel so much heavier now, letting him go. Unexpectedly, he remains, head now resting on your chest, forehead pressed to your cheek. “Not going to eat and run?”

“In such a hurry to be rid of me?” He murmurs, his face hidden so you don’t even have a chance of reading his expression.

You’re not naive, despite what the others might believe. There’s nothing more you expect beyond what already passes between the two of you. Even if you believe you could care for him, he’s not open to you that way. Still, even if the tone is nonchalant, you feel there’s a loneliness behind it he's not quite hiding all the way. “I didn’t say that.” He doesn’t ask directly to stay and you know he won’t, so you pull the covers over the two of you and put your arms back around him and without saying another word.

With a subtle shift, you feel him get near your throat once again before stopping himself. “Perhaps I should go.”

“You don’t have to, I trust you.” Tentatively, you reach a hand up and softly stroke it through his silver hair. First he tenses, and you wait for a reproach for being too tender with him, but none comes. A moment later and you feel the tension release and he relaxes again. Your eyes are heavy, your body desperately craving sleep, but you're afraid there will never be another moment like this, with him so close, and not pushing you away. So you fight to stay conscious, and keep your fingers moving gently as long as he allows it. Sleep comes to claim you again though, and just as the world fades around you, lips brush your collarbone and the arm around your waist holds a little tighter.

The dawn comes, and the camp stirs. When you find the empty space in your bed roll, you tell yourself your heart doesn’t break a little and get ready to get on with your day.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

My baby, my baby… pt.2!

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. smut. mentions of alcohol. unprotected sex. praise. fem receiving. gentle sex. CONSENTED. angst with happy ending?

a/n: I just ate buldak ramen and my asshole is so clenched rn. oh god wtf ts is not for the weak

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You’re my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

Days have passed since that kiss you shared with Leon. And it’s been hell. All you could think about was his touch, his cologne, his eyes… you fell hard for a man who could be your dad. And so here you were, drinking in your studio flat. You walked towards the nearest convenience store to buy the cheapest thing you could afford. Alcohol is alcohol, you thought. It all has the same effect in the end.

You were lying on your couch, drunk out of your mind. Crying and sobbing as you listened to Mitski and some other depressing artist you were so sure your neighbors could hear you but you didn’t care. What you assumed was the love of your life turned cold towards you. And you loathed that feeling. All you wanted was to be in his arms again. To feel those muscly arms hug around you as his soft voice whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You really shouldn’t be trusted with alcohol and a cellphone because you made the mistake of texting Leon.

Leon was confused when he received a spam of messages at 2 in the morning. Who is their goddamn mind is still awake at this hour. Lo and behold, your name popped up on his screen. He let out a sigh as he clicked on the chat and began to read.

“I miiiiiissss uuuuu”

“pls, I need u :(“

“y r u ignoring me?”

“I thinkI committer tax wvasion”

Okay the last text made him worried. He knew something was up so he straight up just called you.

The phone rang in your hand and your eyes bulged out of their sockets, not literally. Your breathing quickened and you felt nervous. But you still answered, you put the phone on your ear and you swore you almost died from how hot and hoarse his voice sounded.

“Y/n…?” He spoke through the phone, his voice laced with sleepiness as he just woke up. If you weren’t wet, now you were.

“Leooooon, hi” you slurred. You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so stupid.

Leon sighed heavily as he heard your voice, “Y/n, you’re drunk. Where are you?” You could hear the sounds of rustling in the back as he got dressed and got his keys ready.

“Huh? Oh- uh… I’m at home,” you mumbled as your face grew hot.

“Text me your address,” he demanded in a serious but gentle tone as he hung up. And you couldn’t help but oblige. You sent him your address and waited patiently for him to come knocking at your door.

You fixed your hair and tried to look presentable even after crying all day. Your face was swollen and your eyes were red. So you went to your bathroom and washed your face, hoping the hyperpigmentation would disappear.

You rushed to your front door as you heard knocking. When you opened the door, Leon stood there looking godly. He was wearing grey joggers and a loose shirt. His hair was neat, given that his hair is straight as a door.

“Can I come in?” Leon asked after you stood there, staring at him in silence for a good two minutes. You mumbled a quiet sorry and stepped to the side to let him in.

When he stepped inside, he immediately spotted the bottles lying about on the coffee table. He let out a deep sigh through his nose and began to clean up your place. You quickly followed behind him and tried to stop him.

“Wait, Leon- I can do it,” you said as you took hold of Leon’s arm. He turned around and gave you a stern look. “Sit,” he commanded as he nodded his head towards the couch.

You wanted to argue, you really did but the way his voice seemed to have reached your head and pussy made you unconsciously walk over to your couch. You sat on it and watched as Leon cleaned your apartment, because that’s what coworkers do, right?

Once Leon was done with getting rid of the bottles, he turned to you and began to check your temperature. To be honest, you felt sober now that he was here.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a soft tone as he put his hand on your forehead. “Checking to see if you have a fever, do you feel drunk?”

You shook your head no, “No, I feel fine.”

Leon sighed and took his hand away from your forehead before settling down next to you. “Why did you text me?” He asked softly. You shifted in your seat as you tried to come up with a good excuse, “I was drunk,” you muttered.

He gave you a skeptical look, he wasn’t easy to fool, “Y/n, I know when you’re lying. Let me ask you again, why did you text me?”

You swallowed hard and focused your gaze in your hands in your lap, “I miss you…” you began slowly and quietly, almost scared to start crying, “I wanted to hear from you again. I wanted you.”

His eyes softened but he maintained his face composed. “Y/n…”

“I know what you’re going to say-“ you began, “That I’m too young and naive for you. But I really cannot help these feelings I have for you…”

Leon sat there looking at you in silence as your words settled in his head. He didn’t know how to tell you he felt the same. He inhaled sharply brought his hand to your chin and gently turned your head to look at him,

“My heart aches for you, my mind yearns for you all the time…”

He whispered softly, “I tried so hard to ignore you, to forget you. But you always manage to make me feel these things for you.”

You sat there, shocked at him. Is that how he felt? Did he actually feel the same way as you?

Leon noticed your shocked face and leaned down to kiss you softly. His lips tender against yours, a kiss so sweet yet full of love. When he parted his lips from yours, he stared down into your eyes with a gentle look.

“Leon, I…” Your voice was just above a whisper, “is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Leon nodded at your words. He’s been avoiding you because he also loved you, the only difference is that he was scared.

You kissed him back, a little bit harder than when he kissed you but he didn’t mind. He moved his hand to the back of your head and pressed you against him, his tongue glossed over your lips and forced his way inside your mouth. His tongue swirled around against your tongue and moaned at the sensation of your hands moving towards his chiseled chest.

He gently laid your back down against the couch, your head resting on the armrest as he parted your legs with his knee and settled himself between your legs, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. He continued kissing you, moving from the ends of your lips to your jaw as he whispered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” His lips settled down to your neck and began to suck at each spot, leaving hickeys where he wanted. You wrapped your hands around his hair and intertwined your fingers with his hair. You moaned as you felt him find your sweet spot. He smiled against your skin and began to sink his teeth a little bit, not too much so it wouldn’t hurt you. He continued sucking, lewd sounds being heard in the living room.

He moved on to the other side of your neck and repeated the same pattern.

Hickey, hickey, bite. Hickey, hickey, bite.

Your hand tugged at his hair as you moaned and squirmed under him. He pulled back from your neck and you whined in response. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he admired the masterpiece under him, “so perfect…” he muttered under his breath as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so perfect, dear,” he whispered as he kissed you once again and let his hands travel under your shirt and caressed your waist and stomach. You let out a breathy moan as your hands explored his chest and shoulders.

He parted from the kiss and laid his forehead against yours as his hands held your waist gently. You stared up at his eyes and admired his features.

“Y/n…do you want this?” He whispered as he looked down at your eyes, trying to read your answer. You nodded, “I do.”

He smiled softly, “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead before he slowly sat you up to take off your shirt. He pulled the fabric over your head and threw it on the floor. His eyes immediately went to your chest and he gently pushed you down the couch again. His mouth kissed to clavicle and collarbone before kissing the top of your left breast while his hands worked their behind your back and unclasped your bra with ease. He pulled your bra down your shoulders and torso slowly and threw it towards somewhere on the floor.

He pulled back and stared at your breasts, his hands sliding up to hold and massage your breasts in his hands. He leaned to kiss and suck one while his hand groped the other. His thumb and index finger tugging and playing with your hardened nipple as he swirled his tongue in the breasts he was sucking and kissing on. You arched your back and moaned softly. Rolling your head back against the armrest as his mouth worked wonders on your chest. God you tasted so sweet, your skin was soft and sugary. But he wouldn’t say that out loud, he’d hate for you to think he’s a cannibal. He just loved the way your skin tasted and loved the way your body smelled. It only aroused him more.

The bulge in his pants growing bigger against the constraints of the fabric pressed against your inner thigh. You felt his crotch rub against you and it only made you water down at your folds. “Leon…” you moaned out.

He pulled back from your breast, the cold air from the absence of his warm mouth hitting your nipple, causing you to shiver slightly.

“What is it, princess?” He mumbled softly as he caressed his hands down your waist.

“I need more…” you breathed out as you tried to move against his bulge. He held you down by your hips and whispered in your ear, “Patience, I want to treat you right.”

He kissed your lips, your neck, your check and down your stomach before kissing the hem of your shorts. His fingers hooking on them as he slowly pulled them down your legs. He stared down at your panties and saw the wet spot in between your legs, he couldn’t help but smirk as he knew you wanted him too.

He removed your panties gently, watching as the slick of your cunt reluctantly let go of the fabric that separated him and your pussy. He pushed himself between your legs, slowly blowing cold air at your clit and watched as you gripped on the cushions of the couch. He brought his fingers down your folds and slowly dragged them up and down, not entering your eager entrance yet. With one hand, he held your hips down and the other began to gently roll your clit among his rough fingers. He leaned down to kiss your inner thighs, sucking at them just how he sucked on your neck. He made sure you were left marked with his hickeys. Moans and whimpers escaped your mouth as he kept circling your clit until he finally dragged his tongue down your folds. You shuddered in pure delight and closed your eyes in bliss. He moaned as he tasted you, god you tasted even better. He couldn’t help but eat you out like he’s been starving for days.

His tongue delved deep inside your pink walls, swirling his tongue and sucking as much as he could, he pulled his hand away from your clit and held your thighs down so you wouldn’t squish his head. The squelching sounds of him eating your pussy were enough to keep you turned on, it didn’t help that his nose would occasionally bump against your lip and his stubble would crash against your skin, ignoring a fire within your stomach.

Your breathing became more jagged as your walls pulsated around his tongue, he groaned against your cunt. You arched your back and gripped on his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt as he fucked his tongue inside you. He knew you were close to release and he let you cum all over his face. Your moan came out in a high pitched breath as you bucked your hips against his face, riding it as he lapped his tongue to capture your juices. Making sure no drop fell to waste.

He pulled back from your cunt as you panted, your body sweaty and glistening under the shitty lights of your apartment. He slowly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He pulled down his underwear and let his hardened lengths bounce to his stomach, hitting it with a smack ‘thwack.’

Your eyes widened at his size. The tip was pink and leaned towards the right by a little bit. A being visibly protruding slightly as pre-cum slid down to his base. You were salivating at the sight. He chuckled and caressed your cheek, “Say yellow to stop,” he whispered before his kissed you softly on the lips. You nodded and allowed him to spread your legs just a little bit for a part. He didn’t want to hurt you so he slowly aligned the tip on your entrance and very gently pushed himself inside you. You shifted uncomfortably but also in pleasure. His thick size slowly got swallowed by your walls and his eyes shimmered as he saw you taking him in fully. He was impressed but also felt like he had to be more gentle so you’d grow used to his size.

He pushed until he connected his pelvis against your hip, he looked down at you to make sure you were still on board. He saw the way your mouth was slightly parted as your eyes were tightly shut. “Are you okay?” He whispered as his hands massaged the fat of your hips. You opened your eyes and nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He took that to his heart and slowly began to thrust in and out of you. Not fully pulling out as he still wanted to be gentle with you.

Once he saw that you were enjoying his thrusts, he began to go faster. His hips clashing against yours, the sound of his balls clashing against your ass echoing through your living room. He brought his hands up to your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. A gesture that meant he was here for you and only you. He grunted and groaned as he squeezed your hands from how crazy your pussy was driving him.

You moaned and whimpered as you felt your second orgasm was on its way. The fire in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter as your walls clenched around his cock. He shuddered softly as the feeling and cursed under his breath at how well your body felt against him. He whispered sweet praises to help you reach your orgasm, knowing that you may be feeling a little overstimulated. “That’s it, baby, come down on me” “You’re doing so well” “You feel so good, princess”

And it worked. You arched your back, your chest coming into contact with his chest as your cunts gripped and clenched on his cock. Milking him until he felt his orgasm coming as well. But he wouldn’t cum inside of you. He knew better for his princess.

He pulled out and shot his cum on your stomach, his moaned coming out in a husky and low tone. He panted as he stayed there for a moment, while you tried to catch your breath. He got off you and grabbed a tissue from nearby and cleaned your stomach. He then moved down to your legs and cleaned there as well. His touch so gentle, knowing you were still sensitive from him. Once he discarded the dirty tissue, he turned his head up to look at you. You looked so beautiful. He leaned up to kiss you on the lips and smiled softly.

“Let’s run you a bathe, okay?” He whispered and swiftly picked you up bridal style. He walked towards the bathroom and closed the door.

Needless to say, this man is the king of aftercare. After he bathed you, he walked you to your bed and laid you down. Oh and the grown man also loves cuddles, so the two of cuddled to sleep.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon smut #resident evil #di leon #re4 leon #resident evil fic #re4r leon #smut #id leon kennedy

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 16.5 - Confessions and Cars 2

I thought I'd post this as a "I'm sorry" chapter lol and I felt like you readers needed some closure.

While writing this, I also realized that I do not know how to write a kiss (due to my non-existent love life)...so if someone has suggestions - I'd gladly take them :D

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

If Arthur thought that visiting you last November before you signed a Red Bull contract would somehow end up with you in his arms, he wouldn’t change anything. Back then, you had been his best friend. And, well, you were still his best friend, but he was hoping that soon (like tonight) you’d be more. 

The end credits of Cars 2 played on the tv in the dark room. Most of the drivers (including but not limited to Lando, Oscar, Lewis, Daniel, Pierre, Charles, and Max) – maybe all of the drivers, who had come to visit you after your release from the hospital, had all left by now. A completed Lego Porsche 9-11 sat on the little counter by the basic coffee machine. 

Now, it was just you, whose eyes were slowly drooping, and Arthur, who hadn’t been able to take his arms off of you since you got to the hospital in the first place.

Arthur, who had held you hand as the doctor put an IV in, because he knew your fear of needles. 

Arthur, who had extra hair ties on his wrist, because he knew you hated to have your hair on your neck right after races, no matter what. 

Arthur, who had called ahead to the front desk to specifically ask for a copy of Cars 2 be delivered to the room.

Arthur, who ubered your exact McDonalds order because you mentioned the craving once while you were still under some strong pain medication. 

Arthur, who was your best friend, but you honestly wanted to be some more. 

Your brain had been running a million miles since your car flipped into the barriers. 

“Are you ready to go to bed yet?” 

But his voice, was able to stop all thoughts. 

You only let out a sigh in response. Arthur didn’t want to rush you, so he just picked the remote up and started your comfort movie over again. 

Yet, you didn’t want to watch the entire thing over again. 

“I was scared.” 

Arthur immediately paused the movie, but kept his eyes in front. 

“I watched the sky cross the opening. And then it just, hurt.” 

His arms tightened around you. Yet, it wasn’t painful. 

“I blacked out for a while. And then when I woke up, all I heard,” you turned to look at the boy in your arms, “was you, calling for me.” 

Tears started forming in both yours and Arthur’s eyes. You shuffled a bit closer to him, getting even closer. 

Arthur took a deep breath. 

Hours before, he was ready to confess it all once you had gotten your first place trophy. He had it all planned out. But then, his world stopped the moment your back tyre clipped the first kerb and then you rolled. 

“Y/n,” he started. This time, his eyes met yours. The TV forgotten in the background. In this moment, Arthur was glad that everyone else had left. 

You waited with baited breath, urging him silently to continue. 

“Well, I had this big plan, for after your race. And now, sitting here, I just know one thing and one thing only.” 

You cocked your head in confusion. Yet, your heart was wanting him to speak the once sentence you’ve wanted to hear for forever. 

“I love you. And when you didn’t respond,” he took your hands in his, “I wanted to die. And I know that might sound extreme, but at that moment, I knew I didn’t want a life without you in it. I also know that we’ve only known each other for a little more than a year but…” 

You decided to interrupt him. “You’ve been my best friend for the majority of that year.” 

He nodded with you, heart a bit dejected since you hadn’t confessed right after. 

“I’ve never had a best friend, before you. And, I also couldn’t imagine a life without you. And Thur…” 

He didn’t let you finish. 

His lips met yours in a fervent kiss. You had to take a second to reel in your thoughts, but you kissed back. Because in this moment, you didn’t want anything to change. A large exhale left your nose. 

You were hungry for a race win. 

Arthur was hungry for your love. 

His hands moved from holding yours to gripping your sides. And well, in true Arthur fashion, he gripped a bit too hard as a hiss left your lips. 

His wide eyes looked right at your with concern. “I am so sorry.” 

And before he could start to ramble in broken French, you pecked his lips. Well, that shut him up. 

“It’s ok,” you whispered, trying to convince him. “And I love you too. Maybe a bit too much.” 

Arthur sighed in relief and pressed his forehead against yours. “You do not know how happy that makes me to hear.” His words were a bit jumbled and his accent was heavy, but you got the gist. 

“What now?” 

Maybe it was your fears and doubts, but if this changed things, you’d rather not continue. Because you’d rather be best friends than lose him. 

Arthur shut his eyes, smiles, and cocked his head. “I was hoping you’d be my girlfriend.” He gave you another sweet kiss, one that you reciprocated with a smile. 

“Well then,” another kiss, “ask me.” A smirk replaced the smile. 

Arthur leaned back and took your hands back into his and sat up straight. “Y/n?” 

You let out a giggle. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” 

You quickly pressed up against his face. Not in a kiss sense way. More like, you missed and just smashed your face against him. He tried to keep you upwards, but you pushed him down and fell on top of him. Another hiss left your lips, but a laugh covered it. You gently rested your head on his chest as your attention was back to the movie. 

“Yes. I will be your girlfriend Mr. Leclerc.”

Arthur just let you snuggle back into him as he played the movie for a second time. Just as Mater was about to be reunited with Lightning McQueen, a thought suddenly crossed your mind. 

“What are we going to tell Max?”   

April 9, 2024

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 through it all, nobody gets me like you do

liked by y/n.nation, f1_fanatic, olliebearman, and 59,294 others

b0x_b0x UM GOOD MORNING? NOT EVEN A HELLO?

maxiel_lover babe, wake up, y/n just did a soft launch

y/n_nation Arthur isn't in the likes...

y/nxarthur I fear this is the end of the friendship?? y/n-on_top why would it be the end... y/nxarthur who knows, Arthur always likes her stuff and comments. maybe he doesn't like the boyfriend

oscarpiastri rue, when was this?

mcLaren_fan even Oscar doesn't know? logansargeant get in line of who doesn't know

olliebearman mother?? pick up your phone please

maxverstappen1 what the kid said, pick the phone up

box_box_official and the plot thickens

change_ur_f-car y/n not picking up her phone and Arthur isn't in the likes, what is this silly season?????

Big Racer

It's Arthur Isn't it??

Little Racer

who snitched

Big Racer

Kid, he looks at you like you hung the sun It doesn't take much sleuthing to find out

Little Racer

Please don't tell It's so new And I don't want to risk it

Big Racer

My lips are sealed But I do have one question Do I need to give you the talk?

Little Racer

MAX!?

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

#arthur leclerc x reader #f1 x driver!reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x y/n #f1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x reader

[junipers-archive]

spencer reid x bau!reader pining over each other to the point that other law enforcement people (maybe even luke or tara when they first join) think they are dating and are shocked when they find out they are just "friends"?

ah yes yes I love this, and hope you don't mind I added them acting like an old married couple and made it Emily noticing :)) (Word Count: 600)

Today is Saturday's are for Spencer :) request an au!

You were on your way back from the most recent case, loading onto the jet you look over at Spencer, noticing once more how utterly and unfairly cute he was when he was thinking. He was currently absorbed in one of the many books he checked out from the library this week, headphones plugged into his ears, probably listening to some classical music.

Taking a seat next to Rossi and across from Emily you keep your gaze trained on him, the sunlight trickling in through the window as the jet takes off, you observe, gives him an even more ethereal glow.

You blush when you find that Emily's caught you staring at him for perhaps the third time that day. "What?" You try to play it off cooly, only getting a smile back as she replies,

"Nothing, I just think you two are lucky to have each other."

You mouth opens, agape and looking like an idiot you stare at her blankly, you know she's new to the team and she probably hasn't gotten close enough to know the whole story but to think you and Spencer were really dating? That, in your opinion, was insane.

"I-we-Spencer and I, I mean- we're not a c-couple!" You stutter turning a darker shade of rouse as Rossi begins to smirk next to you.

"Might as well be, the way they pine over one another. All we ever hear is 'Spencer this' from her and 'Y/n that' from him." He finally speaks up.

"Don't give me hope Rossi, the only pining is on my part, and I'm happy just to be friends!" The truth was you weren't, far from it in fact, but Emily didn't have to know that, especially seeing as she'd just joined the team.

"So let me get this straight...you're just friends?" She questions you as Rossi chuckles and you shake your head getting up from your seat to take a nap on the couch. You really shouldn't be getting your hopes up, how could someone as perfect as him like you?

When you get to the couch however you find your spot taken by one doctor Spencer Reid.

"Move." Your lips are pouted and you're eyebrows pulled together, and if Spencer didn't know any better he'd think you were the most adorable human being on planet earth.

His heart sinks every time he lets his gaze linger on you too long, knowing that someone as smart, beautiful and funny as you would never feel the same way. So even as he rants about you to the others, even as he spends every waking minute he can with you and falls for you more and more everyday he tries his best not to tip you off.

Which becomes increasingly harder the longer you stand there with that look on your face.

Its Derek clearing his throat that brings Spencer out of this daze,

"S-sorry what?" He takes one of his earbuds out.

"Move." You repeat, "You're on my side of the couch."

He beams up at you and you swear you melt, "And since when was this your side of the couch?"

You cross your arms, leaning your weight on one of your hips, "Since the day I joined the team, this has been my side of the couch!"

He hums in response which only seems to fuel your anger, and as you two begin to bicker like an old married couple the team places bets on who's to confess first.

Rossi and Derek are firm believers that one day Spence will slip up, but JJ is almost certain that its his puppy dog eyes that will tip you off at some point and force you to finally confess.

Emily's still in disbelief when you land a few hours later, asking one last time before you all exit, "Are you sure they're not together??"

Update: Part 2

#Saturday's are for Spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #dr spencer reid x reader

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE THREE : PASSENGER PRINCESS !

Starring … ‘Red Hair’ Shanks 📸

SET SCRIPT : “Hey Babbyyyy congrats on 100! For your lovely followers event could I request afab reader with Dads best friend Shanks n some sprinkles of corruption :3 I love youuu bae mwah 😮‍💨🤍”

MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, AGE GAP, use of the title “daddy”, corruption kink, underlying breeding kink (if you squint), Shanks mysteriously has 2 arms, forced orgasm, you’re Mihawks daughter, afab!femme reader.

DIRECTORS CUT : For one of my favorite people on this app @stargirldelight <33 so sorry this took me forever to get to. Apologies, Shanks brings out an unprecedented daddy kink in me I didn’t know I had …

Moving is already stressful enough, add the fact that your dad can’t seem to help you out this weekend and voila; you’re in a pinch. He’s typically off on some sort of exploit around the world anyways, a stoic mystery of sorts. But, your dad did suggest that he come help you move into your new apartment.

Which is fine and all, but you’re not sure how you’re gonna last the already tumultuous move in with Shanks around. He’s your dads best friend, or enemy, you’re honestly not quite sure.

Ever since you were a teen you admired shanks, his warm fuzzy smile, how stern he got when he was mad, and that damn signature red hair of his that you can always pick out from a crowd. You expected to grow out of it as you got older, but you could never quite kick the habit. His voice smooth like honey when he’d stumble in with your father drunk, or when he said bye after helping you move in for college. He’s really your fantasy come true, a handsome man with unmistakable charm that makes you smile even on days you don’t have reason to.

You’re older now, you should be able to handle this. But a man like him ages akin to fine wine, only becoming more and more attractive as the years gain on him. Granted, there was an age gap between you; which is what typically kept your lewd thoughts of him in check.

He’d drive this red dodge charger every time he picked you up when your dad couldn’t, like now. Red hair flowing in his face as you coasted down the highway. He smiles and asks if the boys your age were treating you right while his fingers dance along your shoulders. “Pft, I wish,” you aimlessly laughed, noting that exactly what you desired in a man was right next to you.

“Whaaaat? Cmon’ a pretty girl like you? Really?” He sounded genuinely disturbed by this confession of yours. “You deserve better sweetheart.” His eyes flickering back to the road as you’re a few hours out from your new town.

“I really don’t go out much y’know, and it’s not like I have anything to offer them,” your heard turns as you mumble into your fist. Embarrassed to let the older gentleman know just how little play you get. The compliment he gave you flies right over your head as you try to mask the growing ache for Shanks in your heart (and pussy). He’s always been sweet like this to you, patient and gentle as he places a reassuring hand on your knee. You think nothing of it.

“I don’t believe it, they don’t know what they’re missing. I woulda been all ov-” clearing his throat before continuing, “maybe they’re just not what you need.” He turns the music down as the conversation begins to flow more naturally, tension sparking like electricity in the air as he pushes further and further.

“Oh? And what do I need.” You flash him that look of mischief, one that was saved for when you’d ask him to bail you out of punishment with your dad.

“Someone who could treat you how you deserve, a real man and not some boy.” He can’t control the possessive tone that exits his mouth, it’s just unbelievable to him. After all these years and all those meaningless break ups you’d go through, it was him whose arms you’d cry into. Too drunk off cheap liquor with the sweet but sickly scent of vodka hanging off your breath. But of course, he’d listen. Always the patient type.

“And do I know a man like that? Sounds like you wanna be that guy Shanks,” it was only a joke. Your voice airy as you moved your hair out of your lipgloss. Highway wind was never kind to you.

“Don’t play with me,” and he’s back to serious. The coolness of his words sends a shiver up your spine.

“What if I meant it, hm? What if I wanted you to show me?” Your eyes now burning holes in the sides of his face, his jaw clenches as he battles with his own morality.

“You don’t think I’m a little too old for you?” He sends a glance your way, one that trails from your low cut tank top to the supple skin of your thighs before he’s back to gripping the gear shift.

“Said it yourself, I need a real man,” your knees turn to face him as you let your voice purrr. Mihawk would kill him if he found out about this, but he’s never truly been afraid of the man anyways. Especially not when his daughter is as pretty as you, there’s just so much you don’t know, so much he could show you. It drives him wild.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Eyes straight on the road, but the unmistaken waiver in his voice let’s you know he just needs one final shove before he tumbles down like dominos.

“I’m asking for you Shanks,” you plant a sweet kiss to his cheek; just how you used to when he’d leave town for months on end and you didn’t know when you’d see him again.

For once it’s his turn to be flustered, if he wasn’t so concerned about keeping both eyes on the road he’d grab you himself. “Behave little girl, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

You squirm in your seat, the problem is you know exactly what you’re getting into. It’s finally what you’ve wanted for years. For the object of desire in his mind to be aimed at you, for your affections to be reciprocated, to be with him instead of being viewed as his best friends daughter.

You’ve driven to your new town before so you’re aware that wherever he’s driving isn’t the right way, “Shanks?”

“What? Thought I was supposed to show you.” A light chuckle leaves him as you’re parked in the back corner of a parking lot, headlights turned off.

“Come here hun,” he pushes his seat back urging you to crawl over to him. It feels so right to be held by him, yet so wrong at the same time it makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. The lack of space pushing you closer to him as his steady breathing makes you feel safer.

“Be gentle Shanks, I’ve only done it one time before.” At that his jaw clenches. A cute thing like you only getting fucked once? It almost makes his blood boil, yet it turns sick when he realizes all he can teach you right here and now. How tight your cunt will grip him as he makes you bounce up and down on him. Oh, Mihawk will kill him indeed; that is if he ever finds out about how he’s stretching out your pussy.

His hands feel so warm on you, rubbing and groping at your skin while you get comfortable. All the attention from him at once makes your head spin, growing needier to get on with it already. “You don’t want it like that though, do you?” It’s barely above a whisper, a nasty vile secret that he somehow knows. All you can do is whimper as he ravages your neck in rough kisses, lips lingering over your pulse points. His years of experience showing as he makes you writhe.

“You want it rough don’t you, t’s ok doll you can tell daddy the truth.” He grins at your hardy whine, swallowing it down in a kiss that devours you from the inside out. His tongue invades your mouth, overpowering yours.

He’s perfect, exactly how you imagined he’d be. Strong arms guiding you further up his lap, helping you wrap your arms around the base of his neck. “Shanks .. more please—” your face hot as you plead for more of him. Feeling how stiff he is makes pride swell within you, was that really your doing? All you’ve done is kiss him, but he groans each time you lean further into his touch.

He leaves pepper kisses on your face and eyelashes, pulling back to look for any doubt on your complexion. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, tugging on one of your curls before wrapping it around his finger. Too intimate, far too intimate for the debauchery he’s about to lay on you.

“Spread those pretty legs wider f’me, there you go,” his phrasing patient as his knees open wider beneath you. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance while you wait in anticipation for anything… “where do you want me to touch you baby,” his eyes meet yours, “here?” His middle and index finger graze the thin cloth of your shorts.

You nod your head profusely, looking down at the space between you with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Shanks snakes his fingers within your walls, teasing the entrance lightly while using your slick to slide in and out slowly. “Remember, breathe,” the slight sting keeps your hold on him firm as you try to adjust. In and out, rhythmically, the pads of his fingers glide along your plush walls.

Your airy chants of his name fill the darkening small space of his cramped car. Hips beginning to bounce on his hand, desperation creeping in with each drag of his fingertips inside you. “Look at you, suckin my fingers in. Almost like you don’t wanna let them go,” he marvels at you, moving your shorts out of the way so he has a clearer view of your insatiable pussy.

“S’creamy, you been thinking about me?” Bold for him to say, he acts like he’s not knuckle deep inside you with reckless abandon for his position in all this. You’re oozing down his wrist as his fingers begin to scissor back n forth.

“Kiss me Shanks,” you ask.

“Of course baby,” he replies.

It’s always him who spoils you, giving you what you ask for. How could he deny you of such a sweet request? The squelch of your wetness grows while a tight knot tries to unravel itself within you.

“Not yet, can you wait for daddy just a lil more?” He can feel that too? Embarrassment hot on your face while your hips grind against his palm.

It’s indecent how sexy he is, toned chest peaking through his shirt, tongue slightly sticking out as he preps you for his fat length, and his deep even voice that praises every movement of your body.

His entry inside you is smooth, almost like he was meant to fit you perfectly. “Oh my god Shanks f-fuck wait—” Your head is spinning, you can feel his dick twitch with each convulse of your own walls.

He doesn’t mind that you’re clutching onto him hard enough to draw blood, no not at all, honestly it’s making him want to burry himself deeper. “Shhh baby, I got you. I got you, just breathe.” Not yet though, he can’t hurt you (too bad). Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes but he’s quick to wipe them with his thumb. Kissing your collarbones as if to apologize for the molding his cock does to your needy warmth.

The pain subdues, giving way to a hunger you can’t quite describe; but quiet mouths don’t get fed. “Gimmie more Daddy, please,” truthfully the name slipped out, but the damage was done as it left a shiver to creep up the red heads spine.

Well, how could he say no to that? His hands move from your waist down, molding the skin of your ass as he pleases while his hips experimentally shift up and down. When he hears you sigh in pleasure he knows he’s found the right angle. “Better hold on, gonna give it to you just how you want it love.” It’s in how he reassures you that he’ll take care of you that allows you to let go, letting this be your reality instead of some sick sex dream.

His strength is unreal, he’s lifting you with no problem and then pushing you down again and again. It feels like he’s impaling you, knocking your breath out with each rise and fall of your oozing cunt. “Mhm, fuckkk. Been thinking about this for a long time.” The space between you both lessens as the heat rises, giving way to an erotic composition of pleasure.

Any composure you had flies out the window as you’re left dumb and drooling as the only thing that can leave your mouth is praises of his name. Incoherent babbling about how you never want it to stop, losing yourself in the heat of his body. “So slutty baby, what would your dad think, huh?” He lets his palm rest against your stomach as you continue to bounce. Eyeing where his own outline is visible within you.

“Nasty girl, felt the way you got tighter around me. You want him to know? Know that it’s me fuckin’ his pretty daughter in my car.” His words alone are enough to make that tight band snap instantly with little buildup, robbing you of your ability to think as you cry out meek thank you’s to Shanks. He pulls you back by the hair, watching the way your face contorts as you cream around him; squeezing his cock like a vice.

The flutter of your walls spurs him on, picking up an animalistic pace as you’re used to bring him his own high. Sweat making his hair stick to his forehead as your vision focuses back in. “Think you can do it again? I know you can love.”

You’re unsure what he means but when you feel his thumb start to circle at your clit you’re a goner. The intensity of your last climax causes you to squirm as he tries to rip another out of you. “Stop fuckin running.” When Shanks wants something, he always gets it. That’s the rule. You are no exception.

He can feel his balls tensing at the obscene squelch each thrust into your cunt provides him, he knows he’ll have to wash these seats later; but for now he’s gonna dump his load in his best friends hot daughter.

“Let go.” A harsh drag of his thumb has you coming undone yet again, spurring Shank’s own orgasm where he drags you down flush against him. No where to run as his hot seed fills you to the brim. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff baby.”

You’re left convulsing as you try to catch your breath, slumping against his chest like a noodle. “Di.. dirty old bastard,” you weakly protest, slamming your fist into his chest.

“And yet you still wanna fuck this dirty old bastard,” he says with a laugh, peeling you off his chest to kiss you with nothing but teeth. He suckles on your tongue, making you whimper as he’s still inside you. “That’s what I thought,” he says satisfied.

Maybe he’ll have to be like Mihawk, taking out of town trips. However, he knows exactly where he’ll be going. Right where you are.

Enjoy? Reblog & click 2 see event masterlist!

#˗ˏˋ VALENTINES 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT ˎˊ˗ #shanks #shanks smut #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece thirsts #literally creamed writing some of this ngl

[princessmisery666]

Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating. 

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself. 

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks? 

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings. 

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers. 

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?” 

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?” 

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?” 

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.” 

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it. 

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry. 

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!” 

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you! 

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares. 

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.” 

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy. 

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation. 

“That’s the one.” 

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her. 

“Thank you, Miss…” 

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom. 

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.” 

If only she knew. 

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder. 

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.” 

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you. 

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean. 

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.  

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?” 

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?” 

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.” 

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them. 

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with. 

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?” 

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back. 

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.” 

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks. 

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly. 

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer. 

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks. 

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.” 

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home. 

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away. 

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking. 

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.” 

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared. 

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.” 

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure. 

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?” 

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once. 

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown. 

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you. 

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.” 

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.” 

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.” 

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.” 

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice. 

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago. 

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand. 

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time. 

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room. 

“I did it already,” he calls after you. 

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.” 

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.” 

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress. 

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile. 

“Say what?” 

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….” 

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.” 

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.” 

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.” 

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him. 

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself. 

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.” 

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass. 

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity. 

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.” 

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.” 

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

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[spamgyu]

*Mentalizing collage mingyu for valentines day*

oh we are so back besties....

(not technically valentines day but the same idea.... aha)

College!Mingyu – Ghosting and Balloons

no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable [College!Mingyu Masterlist]

He hasn't replied to her texts.

He always replied to her texts. Even if he was busy — reacting with a heart or the !! feature Apple had so kindly coded into their imessage.

What could he possibly be so preoccupied with that he can't even bother leaving her on read – her message staying on delivered.

She knew he wasn't at practice.

It was Saturday... at 8pm.

There was no reason for him to be ignoring her either. Even when she was on something, pushing his buttons, he never ignored her.

That wasn't the case this time. They were having a proper conversation right before he had gone MIA. Her last text to him was asking if he wanted to grab brunch with her the following day.

Which was sent nearly 2 hours ago...

Chewing at the loose skin on her bottom lip, Y/n closed out the messaging app; tossing her phone away from her with a groan.

This was exactly the reason why she loathed the idea of having feelings for someone.

She hated how much it consumed her; over analyzing every single word and action that was being said back and forth.

It had only been about three weeks since that God forsaken night. And though she said it herself that their confession's didn't change anything, it did.

Within hours she felt the sudden shift between them. She was welcoming of all his hesitant touches, allowing him to pull her closer against his body whenever they stood, not bothering to bat an eye whenever he played with her fingers — pinching the tips as he babbled on about his day.

More importantly, the shift in the way they talked to one another.

The banter still remained, not letting a single minute pass without teasing him about his spelling errors or his lame jokes he would send over.

But she also have taken notice how much softer his voice has become whenever it was just the two of them. The first time she heard that tone, her knees nearly gave out from under her — grabbing his upper arm to stabilize herself.

Just as her brain was about to conjure the worst case scenarios possible – ones that included Mingyu ignoring her for someone else.

Some other girl.

The familiar assigned ringtone began to blare loudly from her phone.

"Yes?" She answered with a sigh.

"Come out." She couldn't see him but she could tell he was smiling – brightly. He always did seem to be smiling a little to wide whenever he was on the phone with her.

"No."

"Wha– Y/n please."

"No."

"Is it because–"

"Yes." Y/n replied shortly.

She did say she had standards, and though he ticked off many of her boxes; she was sure she wasn't going to let anything slide.

Even if it was petty. It wasn't like she wasn't going to give in anyways. She just wanted to give him a hard time.

Like she always has done.

"Y/n," Mingyu's voice softened. She could tell his smile had faded. "I'm sorry, but if you come outside you'll understand why I wasn't able to answer my phone. So please just humor me this one time?"

Damn him and that stupid voice.

"Fine." Y/n grumbled, hopping off of her bed – bounding for their dorm building's exit.

She didn't know what to expect but it was definitely not Mingyu leaning against his car... holding a bouquet of tulip balloons.

This still didn't explain why he had left her on delivered for nearly three hours.

"You've got pollen allergy and I uh– wanted to ask you something." He answered her silent question.

Her frown remained as she stood a few feet from him, debating whether she would give in to his kind gesture or continue with her stubborn act.

"Would you be my Valentine?" Mingyu held out both his arms, a small pout on his face – he was hoping that maybe it would make up for going awol the past few hours.

And god was he right.

"Valentine's day is next week." She bit back the smile as she took the balloons from his hand.

"Tiktok said I should ask before the fourteenth and I– the stupid flower legos were sold out and so I thought maybe this would be better but then it was so hard to make because they kept popping and I–"

Y/n couldn't help but giggle at his quick rambling, watching him shift his weight from one leg to another in nervousness. She could clearly see how he was regretful of his actions – and considering how well the bouquet was put together, there was no doubt he had gotten too preoccupied with trying to make sure that it came out perfect.

"Yes."

"Oh thank god." He let out a sigh as his shoulders dropped. "I'd love to go get brunch with you, by the way. On one condition."

"You have conditions now?"

Mingyu nodded. "Dinner? On me?"

"Gross." She stuck her tongue out.

"You're gross!" He gasped, instantly catching on to her joke. "Unles– Ow okay ow!"

"You're insufferable, you know that?"

"This girl I'm talking to have mentioned it once or twice."

"That girl also said she's close to ghosting you."

Mingyu shook his head. "No, I just spoke to her and she said she's actually head over heels for me."

"Is she a gymnast?" Y/n replied without missing a beat, earning yet another pout from the boy.

"I don't like this game."

"Let's go, lover boy." She snorted, getting on her tip toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek before letting herself into the passenger seat. "I want sushi."

Mingyu stood dumbfounded in his spot, feeling the heat of her lips linger on his skin – reaching up to touch where she had made contact with him.

Maybe he needed to make flower balloon bouquets more often

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

May or may not have been inspired by this pic.....

#WE ARE SO BACK BABES #dont we just love a stubborn oc.... aha ._. #spamquests #college!mingyu au #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #mingyu drabble #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios

[tiredmamaissy]

Non-Unrequited Love

Non-Unrequited Love: Part I

Read Part II, Part III & Special Ep. I here. (Links are also below)

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Lo’ak (18) x Omatikaya Reader (18)

Warnings: Slight NSFW, cursing, lots of fluff, lo'ak in rut

Word count: 3.6k

Authors Note: This series is really a continuation of one event. It has a slow start, but nearing the middle and end it gets pretty steamy.

Synopsis: You and lo'ak have been friends all your life. Everyone knows that you like each other, except the two of you. Fed up with him flaking on you constantly, you follow him one day and find out he's in rut. Now your alone with the love of your life, on a secluded island, whilst he's in rut.

Intro:

Lo’ak experienced his first rut at the early age of 17. He chose to endure his rut alone, until the girl of his dreams (y/n) had chosen him as a mate. It was rather painful and lasted much longer than normal – 3 entire days. His only form of release was himself. His father brought him to a secluded island, near to hometree, where he could go and endure his rut alone.

He’s had feelings for you since you guys were in your early teens. You two did everything together. You’ve tamed your ikrans together, learned how to use a bow and arrow together, and even got in trouble together. You two were inseparable and knew everything about each other. Nothing could pull you guys apart, and everyone around you knew that you were destined mates. However, you have also been waiting for him to choose you as a mate.

Despite the continual encouragement from his older brother, Neteyam, telling him to express his feelings to you, he still chose to wait. Thus, he has spent the last three, very painful ruts on his own. He had gotten used to the feeling and learned ways on how to cope with it. He would start by taking a bath in the lake, eat some grub, and embark on his, several, intense self-love-making sessions.

Coincidentally, every time his rut came around, there would be some sort of special event that he would have flake for. Outside of these special events, he deemed himself as a reliable companion. His first rut came on your birthday. The day of, Neteyam came to you and explained that he was extremely sick and needed to rest.

The second time around, he had promised to go with you on your first real hunting trip together. You waited on him for 2 hours at the meeting spot, before giving up and going back home. Later, Kiri came to you and explained that Lo’ak got in trouble for stealing his father’s assault rifle and that he was grounded for a few days. Seemed believable enough.

On his third rut, he promised to take you to the hallelujah mountains to a hidden spot his parents showed him when he was younger. He said he would make it up to you there, and that he’s been wanting to confess something to you. Jake himself, told you he was sick again, and that he would make it up to you another time.

Today, it was your uniltaron (dream hunt), where you were supposed seek your spirit animal. It was important to you that he showed up to this rite of passage. When Neteyam came running to you with his tail between his legs, head hanging low, you didn’t even let him speak.

 ------------

“Y/n, I – I’m sorry. Lo’ak, h – he, he -.” Neteyam stutters, out of breath from running to meet you at the tree of souls.

“No, not another word.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “He always does this! What is this? He is supposed to be my best friend. What kind of best friend misses this?” you cry, motioning over to the ceremony.

Neteyam looks sorry for you and tries to explain. “I know, but there’s a good reason, y/n. If you would just let me explain!”

“No.” you take your small dagger out from your chest and point it in his direction. “tell me where he is! Where is this bitch hiding this time?” you shout.

“y/n... I can’t.” you step closer to him, and he steps back, looking behind him trying not to trip. “I can’t tell you!”

“Neteyam, I will pluck the eyeballs right out of your face!” at this point, he’s on the floor and you’re towering over him, like a predator trapping their prey.

“He’s on the island! Okay? The island!” his hands are in the air, covering his face.

You calm down a bit and withdraw your dragger slightly. “Which island? Where?” Neteyam looks hesitant to answer.

It seemed as if he were trying to choose whether he wanted to be maimed by his brother’s crazy mate or face the rath of the great Lo’ak. Neither seemed very appealing to him, but he’d rather take his chances with Lo’ak.

“The island right across from here. You will find him there. But y/n, he is not himself right now. He’s not the Lo’ak you know and love. You should just wait for him to come back.” Neteyam warns you.

You hiss your teeth, “Love? Pshh.” you get up in a huff, fuming with rage, and make your way to your ikran, mounting it swiftly.

“Crazy woman... they’re really made for each other.” Neteyam mumbles under his breath, shaking his head.

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

You had been to this island once with Kiri before, to harvest some sort of rare plant that is supposedly able to relieve a third-degree burn in minutes. You and Kiri got the plant, but at the expense of almost losing a few limbs. No one is really supposed to go here, primarily because of the large population of Thanators.

You have heard of a rumor though, that there is a hidden spot, nestled deep into the jungle, where na’vi go to mate before Eywa. It’s supposedly some sort of obscure spiritual sanctuary, that only higher ranking na’vi like the Olo’eyktan, Toruk Makto, and other great warriors know about.

This didn’t stop you, though. The blinding rage that courses through your body is enough motivation to fly there just to maim Lo’ak. What was happening here that was more important than your ceremony?

Your ikran makes a large thump when you land on next to a tree on the island. You dismount her and explore your surroundings. You can recall most of the island, seeing that Kiri would not let you leave until you sourced that ridiculous plant.

With your bow and arrow in hand, you lean against the trunk of the tree next to you, “Lo’ak! I know you’re here. Come out!” You yell.

Lo’ak is hiding high in the canopy of the tree directly above you. He peers down at you, squinting his eyes to get a better look. After confirming that it is indeed you, he takes a deep breath to steady his heart rate.

Why is she here? How did she figure out where I was?

His breath steadies, and his heartrate slows. His rut was approaching any minute, and he was finding it hard to keep calm. The girl he’s loved for so long just stepped foot into a secluded island with him while in rut, what could possibly go wrong?

“Lo’ak! Come out, come out wherever you are” you taunt, just like when you were playing hide and seek as kids. You slowly load your bow with an arrow.

He studies your posture, seeing that you’re armed, and angry. He removes his dagger out of its casing and climbs down on the branch below him. He’s calculating his every move, planning out exactly how he’ll deal with you.

Just as you were about to give up and search another area, something large and heavy attacks you, pinning you to the ground. You shriek from the unexpected blow, huffing and puffing from the pressure in your chest. Your hands are trapped under your own body, and its paw is holding your head down firmly. It exhales hot air onto the back of your neck, making your ears perk up.  

A Thanator? Shit!

You go into fight or flight mode, and surprisingly for a mighty warrior like yourself, you choose flight. You know you’re no match for the jungles biggest and baddest predator. You begin to wriggle underneath it, trying to release yourself from its tight grip so you can make a run for it back to your ikran.

“You should not be here.” the Thanator speaks.

Surprised, you look behind you to see Lo’ak pinning you down, with his knife out.

“Fuck! I thought you were a fucking Thanator, Lo’ak. Great Mother. Never do that to me again.” He releases you from his grip, letting you scurry away.

“I may as well be.” He spits, through breathless pants.

You put away your bow and arrow and put your hands in the air. “You too.” you look wide eyed at the dagger in his hand. He carefully places it back into its casing.

“Why are you here?” he says in a cold voice. It stung to hear the man you secretly loved didn’t want you here.

“Why are you here?” you ask back, crossing your arms over your breasts.

He looks down, and takes note of the placement of your hands, staring a little too long. He looks back up at you, with emerald, green eyes, “I’m trying to protect something very valuable to me. But it’s not working out how I planned.”

You take interest in the sudden change of his eye colour, but you find what he just said more interesting. Intrigued, you ask “Protecting what? If it that valuable to lock yourself away on an island, you could have just roped me in for some help, Lo’ak.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “It is not a what, it is a who.”

“A who?” that stung even more. Who’s more valuable than his best friend? You look down, deep in thought, trying to think about who could be so valuable to him that he would miss your ceremony to protect.

He sees the sadness in your face and feels sorry for you. “It is you, y/n.”

“Me?” butterflies flutter in your stomach, “how is hiding on an island and missing one of the most important ceremonies of my life ‘protecting’ me? Protecting me from what?” you’re so confused, and ready to solve this mystery once and for all.

“From me.” He states, his pupils morph into slits and his green eyes glow even darker.

You hear his breaths become raggedy as he starts backing away from you into the darkness.

“Protect me? From you? Lo’ak...” you chase after him. 

“Y/n, go home.” He walks away from you, climbing back up the tree.

You’re not taking no for an answer this time as you’re on the verge solving this mystery. You climb up the tree behind him, getting a whiff of rain and leather hide mixed together. You look around to see if it’s raining, and to your surprise it’s not. All you can see is the bioluminescence of the flora around you.

“No, tell me Lo’ak. What is it? I’m not leaving until you tell me!”. You catch up to him and tug on his tail, “seriously Lo’ak, I thought we were close, but I guess I was wrong.” your voice lowers into a whisper.

His face grimaces, you can see the hurt in his eyes from what you just said to him. This, on top of the very little self-control he has left makes him snap at you, “I’m in rut, okay? Are you happy? You should go, I can really feel it now.”

He makes his way further up the tall tree, with you following closely behind him. “Lo’ak! Rut? You mean the thing that we learned from Mo’at about the na’vi cycles?”

“No shit, y/n.” he hisses.

“I didn’t know you got yours already, I’m still waiting for mine.” You whine, a bit jealous that he got his first.

How does this boy climb so quickly? You’re panting, at this rate.

He stops abruptly, pulling you aside onto the large branch that he’s standing on. You look at him intently, the beads of sweat on his forehead drip onto his chest, which is glowing under the night sky. Big green saucers for eyes look back at you, as he takes your hand in his.

“I have spent my last three ruts alone, on this island, by myself. Each of those ruts, I had something planned with you and had to make up an excuse so that I wouldn’t hurt you. When I’m in this state, I’m delirious, completely out of control. I have these... urges, that I can’t stop, and with the way I feel about you... I – I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself back. So, I come here, with the help of my father, and hide for the three days that it lasts.”

That was a lot to unpack. For a minute, you’re speechless, just registering and processing all that he just said to you.

How he feels about me? Urges? Three days? Doesn’t rut usually last a day, at most? You had so many questions, but nothing was coming out.

You may be a bit slow, but you are no fool. As the puzzle pieces together, it dawns on you that he has feelings for you, and to protect you from the animalistic... sexual, urges, he locks himself far away from you. How romantic.

He looks at you for a while, waiting for a response, to be met with nothing. He scoffs, drops your hand, and looks away, “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Go home, y/n.” he starts making his way towards the trunk of the tree.

“Wait!” you grab his arm and pull him towards you. “I, I – I have these feelings too, Lo’ak. I’ve had them for some time now. Every time you flaked, I felt stood up. I’ve been waiting for you to choose me, first.” you look away, shyly.

“Y/n. Are you saying that you want to be my mate?” he grips both your arms, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to be your mate, Lo’ak.” You whisper, as if other people could hear your confession.

He can’t help but smile at you, searching your eyes to see if you’re being honest. He swallows his spit, and glances down at your lips. You notice this, and glance at his lips, too. The tension in your chest is intense, it feels like knots in your heart. He inches closer and closer to you, close enough for you to hear his quick heartbeat. His lips crash into yours, hungry and inexperienced.

Not knowing what you’re doing either, you kiss him sloppily, using your tongue to explore his mouth, your teeth clinking together. Both of you reeked of desperation. All these years, you’ve looked at your relationship with him as unrequited love – a girl who settled to be his best friend. Unbeknownst to you, he’s felt the same way about you this entire time.

This is what the sky people would call ‘making out’ it seems. His tongue wraps around yours, much like his arms wrap around your waist. He’s never touched you like this before, in fact, no one has ever touched you like this before. You’re so nervous that he picks it up.

He pulls away from your lips, “What is it? Is this, okay?” He pants, trying to catch his breath.

“Yes... it’s nothing. I’ve just never done this before. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” you too, are panting and trying to catch your breath.

“It’s okay, me too. We’ll learn together, just like we do everything together” he smiles before he leans back in and kisses you excitedly.

His hands explore your body, in places he’s never touched before. They make their way up and down your back, and then around to your breasts. He brushes past them, unintentionally flicking your nipples that peak through the thin cloth on your chest. A soft moan escapes your mouth into his, as you flinch from his touch.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, breaking the kiss.

“No, it felt good. Keep going” you demand, kissing him back.

His hands work further down, past your stomach, down to your lower thighs. Your body moves on its own, rolling and whining to dance with his hands. At this point, he is groaning too, allowing his own body to succumb to his ‘urges’.

You start kissing his neck, and make your way down to his collarbones, caressing the dip in them with your tongue. He closes his eyes, savouring the pleasure that he’s feeling, breathing in your natural scent. The bulge in his loincloth becomes more and more visible, something you’d never seen before. You were curious to see how it feels, if it was really as stiff as they make it seem to be.

You allow your hand to move slowly down his stomach, playing with his belly button on the way down. You cup his bulge, squeezing gently, trying to feel the shape of his member. He jerks slightly, from the sudden touch of his most sensitive area. Soft moans evade his mouth, while he lets his hands move from your thighs to the soft flesh between your legs. You gasp for air as he rubs your most delicate area.

“Whoa. You’re really wet, y/n” he says, making an innocent observation.

“And you’re actually rock-hard” you look up at him, surprised.

His vision becomes hazy, and his heart starts thumping. He tries his best to fight the feeling, and continue to have this moment as himself, but his rut is proving to make that difficult. He lets go of you and takes a deep breath while stepping back.

Did I do something wrong?

“Y/n. My rut. I can’t fight it anymore. We should really stop here.” He says through clenched teeth and furrowed brows.

“Then don’t.” you say, stepping towards him, grabbing his hand.

“Don’t?” he shakes his head, confused and foggy.

“Don’t fight it, Lo’ak. I am here now, and if we are destined to be mates...” you stroke his queue with your other hand, “then is it not my duty as your mate to be with you, now more than ever?”

“Yes. But you don’t understand, y/n. This is not my first rut. I – I can’t control it. No matter how hard I try, it is insatiable. I don’t want to hurt you, especially during our first time...” He takes another step back.

“I want it. I’ve been wanting this. I am ready, Lo’ak. Besides, you owe me for all those times that you stood me up” You giggle, lightening the mood. You cup his face and stare deep into his dark green eyes. “I trust you.”

He shakes his head, “Agh. Okay. But you must listen to me and do exactly as I say, y/n.”

“I’ll do anything you tell me to do.” You look up at him, smirking.

He takes your hand and hurries all the way up to top of the tree, where his hide out rests. There is a woven mat, food, water, and other necessities. It’s nestled among several branches that veer off in all directions. It really looks something like a prison; it saddens you to know he had been dealing with this while you were upset at him for not showing.

He quickly packs his bag with some supplies and food and calls for his ikran who is resting, quietly hidden in the canopy.  There is a great sense of urgency in him, as the height of his rut is fast approaching. You both mount his ikran, and you sit comfortably between his legs. He steers the ikran with one hand, and wraps his other hand tightly around your waist. You soar through the sky towards a small hill deep in the thick of the jungle.

“Should you be flying in this state? Where are we even going?” you ask curiously.

“I’m alright for now. We’re going to a sacred place that my father showed me once. He said to me ‘if for some reason you are lucky enough to mate with someone, bring them here to impress them.’” he chuckles. “Perks of having your father be Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, I guess.”

So, the rumor is real. Huh.

The landing is rough, probably due to Lo’ak’s foggy state of mind. He disconnects his queue from his ikran and dismounts him. You hop off on your own, taking in the view. This hidden, sacred place leaves you breathless. The flora glowed in the night sky, as the waterfalls burble into the large, crystal-clear lake. Vines and panopyra dominate the woodland, wrapping around and hiding between the shrubs and trees. Even Lo’ak was glowing before you, hazy eyed.

Woodsprites float like jellyfish, surrounding Lo’ak, and then you, bringing the two of you closer together. “Does this mean that we are destined to be?” you ask, jokingly.

“Maybe.” He says, seriously, taking his queue and holding it in front of him. “Are you sure you want this?”

You take your queue and hold it in front of you, looking at the tendrils dancing before you. “Yes, do you want this?” you bring your queue closer to his.

“Yes. Definitely, yes.” Your queues come together, creating a spark that only the two of you can feel.

Your eyes dilate, ears lay flat, and your lips part ever so slightly – you are both connected through tsaheylu now. You feel his breath, his heartbeat, his rut. It feels like a deep sensation of sheer frustration, not only sexual, but a craving for a deeper, emotional connection, expressed through sex. Your tail sways back and forth as the feeling travels through every inch of your body.  

Do you feel it?

You’re taken aback by his voice in your head. You swore you didn’t see his lips move. You look at him, really concerned that you’ve gone mad, searching his eyes for an answer.

“Tsaheylu makes it so that we can hear each other’s thoughts.” He speaks.

Like this, my pretty girl.

You smile at him, embracing your mate.

Now we are mated, before Eywa. Your chest gets hot.

For life. He kisses you passionately.

Read part II & III here:

Part II:

Part III:

Special Episode I:

#lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak sully #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak x you #lo'ak fic #lo'ak smut #lo'ak #avatar way of water #avatar smut #avatar x you #avatar #rut cyle #neteyam sully #neteyam

[darlingdarkly]

New Year, New You Part 3

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

4.7k Words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes

Part 2, 4

The next day is what you can only describe as controlled chaos. The office is a whirlwind of papers, people and pieces of presentation sent to and fro across the building. Maureen in marketing needs approval from Mark in finance who’s busy balancing the budget for this year and the spreadsheets from last year. Sharon has been on the phone for Three. Whole. Hours. trying to make sure the prototypes will be ready before noon tomorrow.

Tom called in sick and Mrs. Magna told Nancy to tell him that if he doesn’t show up today to never show up again. Period. That was ensued by a thirty minute yelling match between Nancy and Tom that ended when you gently took the phone from Nancy’s white-knuckle grip and told Tom if he didn’t come in you’d personally shove your foot up his ass.

Tom was in the office fifteen minutes later, quarantined in the conference room with his laptop, a growing mountain of crumbled Kleenex and very, very, grumpy. The day dragged on and on and while people who had finished with their portion of the project headed home for the day you stayed, even after your piece of the pie was secure, because at the end of it all you knew it fell to Nancy to review and review and review the final product for any mistakes and you weren’t about to let her do it alone.

As you worked, you caught up with each other, not having time to really talk since the white elephant party over a week ago. “So how was break?” You asked as you filed away two early projection models in their appropriate folders. She sat cross legged in front of you, stapling documents together. “It was nice, mom came this year, and I thought it would be a lot more barbaric but it actually was very civil. I'm proud of them for working out their differences. The way it went down last year I was still cleaning fruit cake off my ceiling a month later, remember?”

You giggled together because you did remember. That was Nancy’s Christmas reunion debacle from the previous year. You hadn’t been there but you did drop by to help her clean up and have a little wine. A bottle and a half in you both were too drunk and giggly to climb the ladder and scrap the candied fruit and cake from the ceiling.

“What about you? Did you go see your parents?” You smiled and answered. “Yeah they’re doing good, they said to tell you hello by the way. My brother too.” And the side eye she gave you was hilarious and aggravated all in one. “What? He still asks about you.” She rolled her eyes and restacked the papers in her hands. “Well he can stop.” You laughed as she shook her head. “He’s still got a crush on me after all this time.”

“Yes! He’s obsessed! I don’t know why you won’t go for him, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone anyways.” She scoffed at you. “I am not dating your brother. Not after what he did.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Nance, you can’t still be on that.” She looked offended. “After we both nearly drowned at the lake that summer. You remember, he practically pulled me under!”

You laughed remembering. “He was trying to save you!” She laughed with you and pushed on your arm. “Yeah well he sucked at it. We both nearly died.” You both were in fits of giggles at this point, papers nearly forgotten in the glow of your memories. “Besides, how do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

Your eyebrows raised at this. “Ohhh, something to confess?” She looked up from her work, eyes sparkling. “You know the guy that moved in across the hall?” You did. You both had run into him one day coming back to her place for a drink after a Saturday outing together. “You mean Mr. Dark Eyes, the one who came over and fixed your window for you?”

She practically beamed. “That’s the one. He asked me out for drinks tomorrow night.” You waggled your eyebrows at her and she laughed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.” It was your turn to give her an accusatory look. “It’s absolutely like that Nancy! He’s into you. I can see it! I think you should go for it, I’m glad for you, it’s time you got a little action.”

She picked up the stack she’d finished stapling and set it to the side, beginning another. “You and I both. I mean it’s not like you’ve been seeing anyone either.” You paused, thinking of Johnny. You wouldn’t call it seeing someone, but there was something between the two of you, it was momentary, your lapse in response but enough for her to notice and immediately catch on.

“Oh my god, wait. You have been seeing someone haven’t you?” You immediately refuse. “No.” “Bullshit.” “Seriously! It’s nothing.” And she wouldn’t stop until she’d pried it out of you so you began recounting your encounter at the gym, leaving nothing out.

“You’re fucking with me.” You shake your head. “No, I’m serious. Just like I told you.” She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. “He legit did all that?” You nodded and she smiled. “I think you should go for it.” Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious?” She nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s totally into you. All that weird shit just means he’s obsessed. Is he hot?”

You immediately nodded. “Oh yeah, he’s strong and tan. He’s got this pretty white smile and dark hair. I knew he was a personal trainer the minute I saw him.” She hummed approval. “Definitely go for it.” You laughed nervously. “I don’t know, we'll see where it goes.”

The sun had long descended past the horizon, but you had it done. Two hundred and fifteen pages of statistics and sales projections that concluded the project. You both cleaned up the papers and put everything away. She turned to you when the elevator had stopped at the ground floor and the cold night air chilled you as the doors opened. “Wanna go out for a drink, I know I sure could use one.”

You shook your head. “I’m beat, I’m going home, eating and sliding into bed.” She nodded in understanding. “Don’t forget your homework.” She winked at you mischievously and giggled as you let out a frustrated groan. “I’m thinking about skipping it.” She shook her head. “Better not, with what you’ve told me so far it seems like there’d be consequences.” And she was right, who knew what kind of thing he’d cook up if you slacked out on it. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You find yourself in front of your door, mentally exhausted. You slide the key in the lock and feel it give as you push the door open and walk into the cool interior of your home. Flipping the lights on you drop your purse and jacket on the couch and head for the kitchen. It’s been a long day and you hadn’t even had a chance to go grocery shopping this week but you’re pretty sure you at least had a couple of eggs left in the fridge.

If all you could manage was a few scrambled eggs before you did your homework and fell into bed then so be it. You’d eat better tomorrow. You open the door on the fridge and are immediately taken aback by what you see. It’s fully stocked. There’s a whole pack of water bottles on the bottom shelf of your fridge. The chiller drawer is packed with spinach, sweet peppers, broccoli and carrots. There’s deli meat and boneless skinless chicken breasts, a few types of cheese and a new gallon of milk. Individual packs of yogurt and gatorades in all different flavors.

You open the door on your freezer to find a few more frozen packs of chicken breasts, pounds of lean hamburger meat and sausage. Rushing to the cabinets you pull them open and find low carb tortilla wraps and bread, granola bars and some kind of chips called “Veggie Straws” that you’ve always seen on the shelf but never tried.

As you turn around you finally notice the bowl of fruit on your counter. How could you have overlooked it walking in? Bananas and apples and oranges, all ripe and fresh. You didn’t do this. Either you were losing your mind and key moments in your life we’re missing like puzzle pieces lost or someone had been in your house.

Your eyes widen, breath hitched. They could still be in the house. You turn around and survey the space around you, the dark comforting tone had a queer eerie feeling setting in around the edges. The corners and shadows leering with the unknown. Nothing looked out of place or was missing, but what kind of a person came into a home to stock the fridge and leave without taking anything?

You checked the doors, the windows, no broken locks or pried open hinges, no immediate signs of forced entry. Your shoulders stiffened when the realization hits you, it takes your overworked mind a moment to remember but there it was. Your gym bag, you were nearly certain you had closed it but it was open when you opened your locker to change. Johnny.

You grabbed your purse and pulled your phone out, flicking through your contacts and hovering over his name. You momentarily waver between calling him or the police. What were you going to say? Yes officer, my home has been broken into. Did they take anything? Well, no. The opposite really. What did they leave? Groceries. Lots of them, stocked my whole kitchen with fresh meats, veggies and fruit. Yeah, we’ll get right on catching the ever elusive grocery fairy, ma’am. Top priority, don't you worry.

You started the call and he answered on the second ring, tone light and cheery with enthusiasm. “Bonnie! How was work?” You skip the pleasantries. “Do you have something to tell me, Johnny?” And you don’t know why you expected him to take the matter seriously.

“Aye lass, I did think about ye all day, sometimes with mah cock in hand, how’d ye know?” His response momentarily scatters your thoughts to the wind but you take hold of them once more and push on. “What? No! Johnny, have you been in my house?” He laughs, actually laughs. “Oh that. Yeah, did you check the fridge?”

Your brow furrowed in frustration, of course he doesn’t see it as an intrusion instead of some kind of regular thing. “Johnny, how did you get into my house?” You sit down in a chair and what he says makes you bolt upright again. “Easy, hen. I just made a key.” You’re pacing now. “You made a key to my house! How?”

And he says it casually like he’s explaining how to tie a shoe or giving someone easy directions. “I went into yer bag, found yer keys, pressed it into a mold and had one made. Simple really.”

“You can’t do that Johnny.” He interrupts. “S’alright Bonnie, I’m yer personal trainer.” There it is again. That phrase, like it’s the simplest thing to understand in the world, normal even. He’d picked you out, told you he was going to train you, you didn’t exactly protest and now anything was fair game, including crossing every single kind of boundary you could have and making copies of the keys to your home so he can come and go as he pleases.

“Besides, yer fridge was empty. What were ye gonna have fer dinner?”

“None of your business. And what if I don’t know how to cook? Did you think about that Johnny?” And this seems to be the first real thing to give him pause. “Yer right, lass. I didn’t even think about that. I’m about five minutes away, I’ll be right over.” Your eyes widen in panic. “No Johnny! Don’t come over!”

“S’alright lass, it’s really no trouble. I’ll be right there.” The last thing you needed was him showing up at the door. “No! Johnny I’m serious, don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and it feels long, you almost expect a knock at the door, even though he couldn’t possibly be there that fast, unless of course he was lying about being five minutes away and was actually right outside the whole time, or even in the house still.

“Alright. I won’t come over on one condition.” You grab for it, ready to agree to anything that will keep him from showing up. “Yes, anything.”

“I want ye tae FaceTime me while ye do yer homework.” And you’re almost relieved with the simplicity of it, but there was an underlying unease that you couldn’t shake, what was he up to? You answer slowly when you can’t come up with a good reason to say no. “Ok, I’ll call you back.”

But before you can hang up he interjects. “No. Don’t hang up, talk to me.”

“Talk to you? About what Johnny?” You start to look around the kitchen for what you’re gonna have, if he’s making you talk to him the whole way through it then it’s better to get started now. “For starters, How yer day was.”

It starts slow, your relinquishing of the accounts of the day, but as time went on and you kept talking it all just came to the surface. The stress of the day, the brutal meticulousness of it, and he made it so easy, he was so attentive, listening and responding, asking questions and letting you vent it. He even laughed so hard when you told him about threatening Tom that you couldn’t help but laugh with him, bent over in front of the stove as you let the stress bleed out of you.

It felt good, right even, like something you'd been missing out on, a key component you hadn't realized you’d been without for so long. And you found a peculiar twinge of adoration for him in the bottom of your heart, like tea leaves spelling out your heart's true desires, whether you like what you read in them or not, there they were.

You sat down to eat and he told you about his day as you ate. It was much more appetizing than a plate of scrambled eggs, you had to admit. You nearly choke on a cherry tomato when he tells you he missed you. “It’s only been a day since you last saw me Johnny, you can’t miss me.” And is there longing in his voice, or just your tired mind playing tricks again? “Aye, but I did.”

There’s a momentary pause, a space of uninterrupted silence, pregnant with things unsaid. You finally break it. “Well, I’ve got dishes and then I’ll do my homework.” What he says next makes you smile, and you’re glad he’s not able to see it. “How will I know ye’ll call me back?”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll call you. If not, you'll be pounding at my door, won’t you?” You can hear the smile in his response. “Better believe it, lass. Call me.” And he hangs up.

You quickly finish up your dishes, change into something comfortable, just a tank top and shorts, and prop your phone up. Pressing the call button on Johnny’s name in the contact list you see the screen go black as you wait for him to pick up. Your image is reflected back at you in a little square in the top right of the screen and you use the time to adjust your hair and pull the hem of your shorts down lower to cover more of your thighs.

His face pops into frame and he’s smiling ear to ear and you ignore the eruption of goosebumps on your arms when you see it. “Hi, lass” You back away from the screen and into the open space you’ve made in your living room to do your exercises. “Hi Johnny.”

“God yer beautiful.” And you feel your cheeks heating under his compliment. “Stop it, Johnny. Let’s crack on.” You see him sit back on his bed as he responds. “Alright lass. Start.” So you do, starting with the sit ups. You don’t have him there to hold your feet so you slide them under the couch to hold you steady as you do the exercise. He talks you through it, counting for you so you can focus on just your movements, keeping track of your pauses in between sets so they’re evenly spaced and consistent.

“Good lass, now yer toe touches.” You rise and face the camera, bending down with legs straight as your fingertips brush your toes. “Good, just like that.” And each line of praise is like a shot of vodka, a shock of ambrosia to your system, intoxicating. You know he’s looking down your shirt with each rep, but it’s a thrill you find exhilarating instead of embarrassing for once. Halfway through he has you turn around so he can make sure you’re not dipping at the knees.

You do the first one and he groans, quiet but you still catch it. You call over your shoulder and ask if he’s ok and he clears his throat, voice full of audible gravel even in his one word response. “Aye.” You finish and all that’s left is your lunges and stretches. You bend your knees and step into the first lunge, one leg at a time til you reach your goal of ten.

You’re finished and you turn to face the camera, you see he’s laid down on the bed, eyes intense and holding yours even from the small screen of the phone across the room. “Stretches now, lass.” He sounds out of breath and you wonder what you’d see if he flipped the view to his back camera.

You sit on the floor, legs V’d and begin to stretch them wider and wider. You curse your decision for shorts and blame it on being tired and not thinking it through. You know the crotch of your shorts is pulling taut against your pussy, barely covering your panties as you stretch further and further. You start to strain, little puffs of breath and groans escaping your lips as you widen your stretch. “Hold it, bonnie.” And you do just as he asks, holding it against the potent pain accumulating in your calves and inner thighs. “Just a little more, doing so good fer me.”

You hold it for another five seconds and he finally lets you release. You’re breathing heavily as you draw your legs back together and if you aren’t mistaken you think you can hear his labored breathing as well. “Johnny.” His voice is thick with strain. “Aye, lass.”

“What are you doing?” His smirk is devastatingly handsome as he speaks. “Nothing yet, lass.” You feel emboldened and press your luck, eyes connected with his as you command him. “Flip your camera Johnny.” His eyes hold yours raptly for a few seconds before he does as you ask and the shot flips to his chest and legs lying on his bed. He’s got a dark blue comforter and you can see in the frame a pull up bar and a few weights on a rack in the corner, just what you’d expect but the first thing to catch your eye is the raging bulge in his gray sweats and your breath hitches as his hand comes into view, wrapping around the base of the stretched fabric and adjusts it to better accommodate his length.

“See what ye do tae me, hen?” You do see, you can’t look away as his hand squeezes himself through the cloth cage. Your mind, overworked and fried is trying to get you to say something, anything, but the only thing that will compute is his name. “Johnny.”

“Get up and sit down on the couch, lass.” His voice holds a tone of gentle authority, you could probably protest but you’re tired and trying to swim against the current of what your body wants is a task you’re not up for at the moment, so you give in and let him command you.

You sit on the couch at first, eyes still glued to where he’s fisting his cock through his clothes. “Sit back, hen and spread your legs.” You do sit back but you don’t spread your legs, at first. “Come on, bonnie. Jus’ like we practiced.” So you do, not as wide as you would when stretching but enough to give him a view and the tingles of anticipation thrumming through you has you on edge, like you’re standing before a cliff and about to jump, there’s no going back from this.

He groans and you watch with keen eyes as he pulls his sweats down until he’s just in his boxers, the same dark blue shade as his bed spread. “Ye wanna see more, lass?” He’s tempting you and it’s working, you do wanna see more but it’ll come at a price. “Yes.” He wraps a fist around his cock and you shift uncomfortably as your panties dampen. “Take yer shorts off.”

You sit up and tug your shorts down your legs, feeling dirty but heightened as you do, like you’re liberating something inside yourself even you don’t quite understand. He hisses air through his teeth as he spots the wet patch quickly growing and soaking the gusset of your panties.

He pulls his boxers down and his cock springs up into view, finally free and it makes you bite your lip. He’s thick and has length to boot, a good seven inches of it guessing by the comparison of his hand up against it.

There’s a neatly trimmed patch of dark hair spreading out from the base and you can’t help but moan as he wraps his hand around it and begins to tug lazily. His voice is husky and deep when he speaks.

“So pretty, hen. Are you that wet all fer me?” And you’re beyond words so you just nod, eyes glued to the way he tugs on himself. He curses under his breath and your pussy aches from the lack of stimulation. You snake a hand down your chest, descending toward the pain, itching to relieve the tension. “That’s it, lass. Let me see ye touch yerself fer me.”

So you do, just overtop of the fabric, a roll of your fingertips overtop your clit, enough to make your head tip back and moan blissfully. “Good girl.” You look back up to see him working his shaft in earnest, firm grip and steady movements. You feel emboldened by his reactions and lean forward again to rid yourself of the cloth barrier. He stops and watches as your pussy comes into view for the first time.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Fucking gorgeous.” He resumes his movements as your fingers settle over top your bare clit and you start to rub tight little circles over it, just how you like. “Show me Bonnie, show me just how you like it.” The sexual tension between the two of you, the stress of the day all come to a head and you reach down to spread your wetness up and around your clit, moaning low and sultry as he watches you play with yourself.

You reach your other hand up and squeeze one of your breasts through your top and look back up into the screen. Watching him pick up the pace, making fast even strokes over the tip of his cock with each movement. The motion of his hands, the way his tip disappears into his fist and reappears with each pass is mesmerizing. You can feel the beginnings of an orgasm building and it just drives you on as you think about coming in front of him for the first time.

Your fingers pick up speed and your moans rise in pitch as he talks you through it. “Mmm such a bonnie little pussy. I wanna see ye come for me lass. Can ye do that fer me? Come nice and hard fer me?” You suck in a deep breath as you work your body into a frenzy, pinching a nipple between your fingers as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

You look up to see him vigorously stroking his cock. His breathing is heavy and loud through the speakers and you wonder if he’ll be loud when he comes. You’re close and even though he’s not even in the same room as you he can tell, spurring you on. “That’s it hen. Just like that. Do it. Cum fer me.”

It’s all it takes to send you spiraling. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you fall over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. You let out a long drawn out moan as you do, body tensing as you pant and writhe on the couch in full view.

You look up when he calls your name, watch as his strokes quicken and shorten and then all at once he’s coming undone, legs tensing and white hot cum shooting from the tip of his hard cock. It arcs through the air before landing in spattered lines across his thighs. The guttural yell that falls from his lips as he does is loud, just as you’d expected and you wish you could feel it, the rumble of his chest when it sounds.

You’re both breathing heavily and coming down when it hits you, the post nut clarity. You just had very raw, hardcore phone sex with a man who made a copy of the keys to your home, came over without you knowing while you were at work and invaded your personal space.

You’re ashamed and a little sickened by what you’ve just done. Quickly closing yourself off from view you snatch your panties and shorts from the ground and redress. “Fuck, lass. That was fucking amazing.” You’re already working on damage control in your mind, blocking out the experience, no matter how much you enjoyed it, it was wrong.

“No Johnny. It wasn’t.” You can see him switch the camera around and he’s way more relaxed now, smile a mile wide on his face. “Aye, it was. Cannae wait tae see ye, tomorrow.”

You don’t even know if you’ll show up now, how could you after that? It was just a mistake you told yourself, a tired slip up, absolutely a one time thing. You close your eyes and when you open them he’s looking at you and you swear you can his adoration for you swimming in them. “Go to sleep, lass. I wanna see ye tomorrow at 4:30.”

You say nothing and hang up. It’s very late before you fall asleep that night, debating whether or not the consequences of not showing up tomorrow are something you can afford to risk. If you don’t show up he could just pop into your house at any time. It’d be better to just show up and act like nothing happened, that was the key, just brush it under the rug and hope he’ll do the same.

You’re nervous about it all day at work, and you know Nancy knows something is wrong but you insist everything’s ok. You’re too ashamed to tell her about any of it and she relents and leaves you alone but she knows you’re lying. When four o’clock hits you’re out the door, won’t be able to stop this frenzied state of mind until you can clear things up with him and make things go back to normal.

The next day when you walk in the door and sign in he meets you at the desk and before you even have a chance to say anything he’s on you, lips crashing into yours in a passionate and very explicit kiss right in the lobby of the building surrounded by patrons and gawking onlookers.

He doesn’t even give you room to breathe let alone get a word in as his body presses up against yours and he grabs ahold of the back of your neck to keep you locked against him. When he pulls away you’re shell shocked and silent. As he pulls you against him and walks you further into the building you know things have taken an irrevocable turn.

#cod x reader #soap x reader #dark!johnny #dubcon #dark fic #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod #cod soap #twdubcon

[lovingrosewho]

Framed

Hello there! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I recently began watching Criminal Minds again and fell in love with Aaron Hotchner all over again as well, so I just had to write this, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) This is my first Criminal Minds (published) fanfic, and the first Hotch x Reader I’ve written ever! (also the first nsfw)

ONE SHOT (but who knows, it may even have a part 2 on a future maybe not-so-near but not-so-far-away either)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Cis!fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3467

Summary: reader has been accused of murdering her older, rich ex-fiancé (of course I took my inspo for this piece of fanfiction from Brooke Whyndam, of the movie “Legally blonde”, also, the line “then show them a picture of his dick” is from that movie).

Warnings: NSFW content (innuendo, sex, curse words, age gap - reader is in her mid twenties, Hotch is in his early/mid forties)

“I didn’t do it!” you scream one last time slamming your fist on the table, on the edge of tears.

It had passed around 8 hours already with you in custody, accused of the murder of your ex-fiancé, a (quite older) man, CEO of a big company in town, and as if that wasn’t enough, the best friend of the sheriff.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rubs his face, tired, after observing Prentiss and Morgan’s attempts to get you to confess. It’s almost 3am.

“Sheriff, with all due respect, I think she’s telling the truth” he tells him with a soft voice after a deep sigh.

“And with all due respect, you profiled that the suspect would be a female in her mid twenties, who we’d have to get the information out of her”.

“And we also profiled she’d be seeking for attention and validation which we don’t see it happening do we?” Aaron retorts rolling his eyes discreetly.

The sheriff gives SSA Aaron Hotchner one last glance before grabbing the doorknob of the interrogation room and storming in, Hotch follows close behind, seeing how the sheriff turns off the videocamera recording what happens inside the interrogation room, knowing no good can come from asking the same questions over and over again when everybody is also tired and fed up with trying to get a false confession out of you, which, from your behavior, Hotch knows it’s impossible.

“That’s it!” the sheriff yells “You killed my best friend! Either you confess or I’ll let you rot in here the rest of the 72 hours we can have you legally detained!”

“For the last time, I. Didn’t. Do it!” you yell back.

The BAU team exchanges glances between each other.

“What judge is going to believe you huh? You were engaged to a successful man in his mid fifties! And then he goes and marries someone even younger than you!”

“That was over two years ago!” you talk back.

“You had motive and opportunity, no judge nor jury is going to understand any other reason for you to be with him that is not for the money”.

“Then show them a picture of his dick! That might clear a few things up” you finally bark at him. The sheriff looks at you in astonishment. Morgan disguises a snicker as a cough, Prentiss bites down her lower lip to suppress a laugh, and Hotchner… Hotchner just stands impassive at you.

The sheriff leaves the room enraged, and everyone else follows, not before giving you an apologetic look. Hotchner is the last one to stay. You see the slightest doubt on his eyes and the subtle twist his lips make. You know he’s thinking about letting you go, but he then lowers his stare and gets out of the room, just like everybody else.

You sigh, drained out of energy after all the interrogations. This can’t be happening to you.

You knew since the moment you met John, that just his pure acquaintance could ruin your life. He had many enemies, and even more groupies who belonged to social circles that if you hadn’t met him, you would have never even imagined they existed, but what you had never imagined either, was that after all the heartbreak, loss and pain of what you thought in that moment to be the love of your life, you’d be reliving all those feelings, cause of some stupid cop negligence.

You lay your head slowly on the table, feeling the coldness of the metal surface on your cheek, and close your eyes for just a couple of minutes. You can’t sleep, not until this nightmare is all over, but at least, you get to have a few moments of peace and quiet before some other agent enters the room and begins yet another interrogation, demanding new information. Information you don’t have.

Outside the gray room, where you can’t hear nor see anything, the BAU team argues with the sheriff about your freedom.

“We’ve gotten out of her everything we’re going to get, I’m telling you, she didn’t do it” Morgan tries to reason with him.

“An unsub who planned a homicide this calculated would be equally calculated both on his answers and his behavior, this girl was in shock when we started showing her the case photos and couldn’t get a single cohesive phrase out. You can’t pin this murder on her” Emily backs up Morgan.

The sheriff looks at both of them, puffs a sigh and places his hands on his hips before discussing.

“Look, I get it, you profilers or whatever think you’re better than all of us, but this is still my county, and while I can have her in custody, I will. Who knows? She might even give up a confession or at least some new information. Goodnight gentlemen. And lady” he starts to walk to the exit without giving any of them any chance to convince him “I suggest you too get some rest. It’s been a long day and there’s one even longer ahead of us. Lock up when you get out”.

With that last statement, the sheriff ends the discussion and exits the precinct. Morgan and Prentiss move their heads in disagreement, proceeding to look back at Hotch, who is frowning at the door the sheriff just left through.

“What now?” both the BAU members look at the unit chief.

“Sheriff is right in one thing: you should get some rest. I’ll stay here with (Y/N), keep her company and see if there’s something we missed” he declares “Call Reid, Rossi and JJ, head back to the hotel, I’ll catch up with you in a few hours”.

“Hotch she’s not our unsub” Morgan defends you again “I mean we could, let her go right?”

“I’m afraid not. If we step ahead of the local officers, we might make things worse by getting ourselves kicked out of the investigation. It’ll be of more use the sooner we find something, anything, that might help (Y/N) clear her name and get her out of here” Hotch answers, he’s looking at Morgan but directs his orders to both of them, he knows his team too well to not know for a fact that Emily is the one who’s more inclined to let you go. They both nod silently.

“All right” Emily surrenders, not just because she’s too tired to continue arguing, but because she also knows that perhaps getting back to the hotel and going over some of the facts and scenes with Reid or JJ, might be more useful “Do you want me to stay with you? I mean the precinct is completely empty. You’ll be here all by yourself”.

“It’s okay. You and Morgan. Hotel. Rest. We’ll gather first thing in the morning and go through everything we have so far” he assures and doesn’t wait for a reply, beginning to walk back to the interrogation room, hearing the exit door of the precinct close behind him and the key turning.

When he enters again, he finds you on the same position you were trying to rest, your cheek against the now warm table, your hair falling on it and covering parts of your face.

“I’m not asleep” you mutter softly “I just needed to clear my head, breath and relax for a bit”.

Hotch lets out an almost imperceptible sigh, but everything is so quiet, that you get to hear it.

“(Y/N) I know you didn’t do it” he pronounces just as softly as you.

“Really?” you frown and shift your position, sitting back on the chair, looking at him “Then… can I go?”

He presses his lips into a straight line, and lets out a firm, but still tender “no”. A single tear escapes your right eye and you wipe it off quickly, not quite giving in to the emotions just yet. Hotch notices and comes to stand right next to you, laying on the edge of the table.

“If I’d let you go, the local authorities would not let us continue the investigation and they’d pin that murder on you. Trust me, the best we can do right now is wait a few hours until everyone has cooled down and come back with fresh eyes” he guarantees you, his features relaxing as he tells you this “Everything’s gonna be fine”.

“Everything’s gonna be fine” you repeat his words slowly, then look up at him. Damn it. He’s handsome. It’s no secret to anyone you have a thing for older men, but did that trait really have to emerge right now? You can’t help but to laugh out loud at the thought, it’s absurd to you that you could be thinking of that when you’re being accused of murder.

“What’s so funny?” he asks confused, and distances himself ever so slightly from you, without leaving his place on the table.

“Nothing, just…” you start, in an attempt to explain yourself and don’t end up looking crazy “God, if I had met you under any other circumstances, I’d probably be all over you right now”.

SSA Aaron Hotchner does not move, nor his face changes towards you, but you can see the most subtle blush on his cheeks, and his fists tightening. His lips finally crack up a light smile, finding the situation absurd as well, he quickly remembers the videocamera is off.

“You do realize you could be facing murder charges, right?” he asks playfully, kinda mocking you, keeping the volume of his voice down.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry” you apologize “It’s just so late, I’m tired, and well, you’re smoking hot” you confess with an apologetic, but also mischievous, look. Hotch finally lets out a laugh. Get a hold of yourself, Hotchner, he thinks to himself, takes a deep breath and goes back to his serious stare.

“(Y/N), I understand it’s been a long day in which you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but for me to keep up this game would be not only unprofessional, but also unethical. Your mind is probably just making up this crush for you to pass the time and distract yourself from what is happening. You’ll get over me” he explains sweetly.

“I wish I could get under you instead…” your witty retort catches him off guard, he swallows hard and starts coughing. He’s not used to women flirting with him anymore, not for a long time, let alone women almost half his age.

“I’ll see you in a few hours” he says standing up and reaching towards the door, not really uncomfortable by your approaches, but more by his increasing boner.

“No, okay I’m sorry, please stay with me” you beg him, standing up as well “I was just joking. Well, not really, but just… please keep me company, stay?”

He turns back at you not realizing how close you are, less than a couple steps behind him and he almost crashes into you, but he prevents the two of you from tripping by stabilizing himself grabbing your hips, but his hands can’t get to let go afterwards. You breath heavily, feeling the arousal and heat from the proximity suffocating you.

“Please fuck me” you half ask, half beg, admitting to yourself that what you need right now is precisely what agent Hotchner said: relieving some stress and distraction.

SSA Aaron Hotchner can’t help himself.

Ugh, fuck it, he thinks. It’s the sheriff’s fault for turning off the videocamera in an attempt to scare you and try and trick you into making a confession.

Without any further notice, he grabs your ass and the highest part of the back of your thighs to lift you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his back and your arms around his neck, not breaking eye contact as you let him carry you to the table. He places you on the table with tenderness, caressing your back as he does so. You bring your dominant hand to grab his tie and pull him in for a long, wet, controlled kiss, running your other hand along his arm and chest, ending the trace on his cheek, allowing your thumb to move back and forth on his skin.

Quite to be honest, Aaron doesn’t know how well he’ll be able to perform. It’s been a while since he’s last had sex, and his mind is always either on his job, or his family. He’ll probably won’t last more than a few minutes. But he can try and make it up to you.

He begins to deviate his trace of wet kisses from your mouth, to you jaw, your neck, and slowly your chest, discovering little by little the skin under your clothes, while his hands drop by the side of your waist, hips and legs, exploring you under the midi skirt you’re wearing. His right hand finds the slit between your legs, covered by your panties, and starts caressing it through the fabric. He listens to you moan and brings his other hand to cover your mouth with endearment, letting you know you’ve got to keep quiet.

He moves your panties to the side and traces one finger along your slick, inserting it inside of you. You have to suppress an even louder moan. He moves that one finger up and down, hitting your G spot, inserting another finger when you’re ready.

“Please” you beg once again. Aaron chuckles, grabbing you and getting you closer to the edge of the table, proceeding to get down on his knees and sucking all your juices without any type of heads up. You can’t but let out a loud moan. He looks up at you, and even though his eyes demand silence, you can tell there’s the slightest grin on his lips, before he continues sucking and licking your folds and clit. Your back drops to the table, unable to keep yourself steady so you can watch him. You’re trembling with desire and lust “Agent Hotchner, please” you beg once again. Hearing you call him ‘agent Hotchner’ does something to him. He stands up, wiping a little bit of your juices off his mouth and kissing you afterwards, his hands resting on either side of you on the table, one of them coming to grab each of your nipples one at a time.

“How much do you want this?” he asks softly.

“I need you” you answer “Please, fill me”.

His eyes meet yours and he nods slowly. His mouth comes to encircle one of your nipples as he pulls down your underwear and hides it in his suit pocket, and undoes his belt and trousers, without taking any clothes off. You come up from your laying position to support yourself with your elbows on the table, not wanting to miss how the special agent from the FBI takes his cock out to give it to you.

When he’s got it out and ready for you, he pumps it up and down a couple of times before lifting entirely your skirt and positioning himself in your entrance. He enters slowly, letting you take him all in, allowing you to accustom to his size, and for the love of him, he feels like he could explode any second. He breathes deeply and clears his mind, his ego not letting him end up looking like a teenager having his first time.

“Let me ride you” you ask after a few slow thrusts, needing more of him. He looks at you and nods.

God, what is he doing? At least you’re innocent. Are you? Right? You’ve gotta be. The profile doesn’t fit. But they’ve been wrong before haven’t they?

You exchange positions so he’s laying on the table, you get on top of him and guide his cock back into you again. You part your lips in a moan when you come down on him and begin moving your hips, his hands moving alongside them. You lower yourself without stopping so you can kiss him, rubbing your whole torso on his, your sweat making your skin slip on his skin. He grabs your breasts so he can bring them to his mouth, nibbling them.

Meanwhile, you��re wondering if this might just be another trick for you to let your guard down. But what could you say that might incriminate you? You know you’re innocent. What if he’s not even a real agent?

You’re so close that you can’t give yourself permission to sink into those thoughts, instead, you start riding Hotch faster and stronger, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you do so.

“Aaron, Aaron…” you moan lowly. You don’t know if it’s okay that you’re on a first name basis already, but it just seems weird to you if you call him ‘Hotch’ like his colleagues.

It seems like he’s perfectly fine with it, as he digs his fingertips on your hips, encouraging you to keep going, feeling how your walls tense around him as your orgasm hits you.

You moan uncontrollably as you come, not being able to keep those in, digging your nails in Aaron’s shoulder suit sleeves. Afterwards, you lay slowly on his chest, until you start feeling like he’s pulling himself out.

“Wait” you gather and pull yourself up again, with him still inside of you “What are you doing? Don’t you wanna finish too?”

He looks at you in disbelief.

“Well I thought you may wanna rest or…” he begins explaining. You laugh and look fondly at him, lowering yourself again to murmur “don’t stop” in his ear.

Of course, he remembers. Twenties.

That’s everything he needs to start thrusting into you with everything he’s got left.

“(Y/N) I’m not-“ he tries to phrase “I’m not going to last longer, I’m- is it okay if I…?”

“Come inside me” you order “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m on contraceptives”.

He decides to believe you, for his sake, and fastens his pace until it becomes sloppy, spilling inside of you just like you asked for, his cum filling you and showing between your folds as he brings himself out.

“Oh my god” he breathes out as he brings you down to his chest, securing his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him “I’ll put you in handcuffs myself if it turns out you’re not innocent”.

You chuckle, tracing circles on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.

“I am. But still, you can put me in handcuffs any time you want”. He laughs alongside you, still feeling a bit like a teenager. A teenager who just did something very very wrong and that nobody should find out about. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds before his cellphone starts ringing, he answers almost immediately.

“Hotchner” he says calmly “Yes I’m still here. No, everything’s fine, she’s… behaved. Prints don’t match? Well of course they don’t, was García able to tell whose are they then? Right. Well, tell her to keep digging. I’ll see you in a bit”.

After he hangs up he turns to you with a playful look.

“You never touched the gun that was in your purse, did you?” you shake your head.

“Guns and, weapons of any type really, give me the creeps, I just left it there thinking it was someone’s idea of pranking me or something”.

“Well that may have just made your case. You’re free to go. Whoever was trying to frame you did a lousy job not guessing you weren’t going to grab the gun” he tells you arching his brows at you. You stare perplexed at him.

“You’re serious? Oh my god Aaron! Thank you!” you exclaim kissing him.

“Yes, and we should get dressed and get out of here before anything else happens” he affirms gently, helping you stand up so you both can fix your clothes.

“Well, agent Hotchner, it’s been a pleasure. Truly” you tell him when the two of you are walking out of the interrogation room towards the exit.

“Pleasure is all mine, (Y/N)” he says, winking an eye at you “I’d like you to know… I don’t usually do this. I don’t…”

“Aaron” you interrupt sweetly, one of your hands coming to grab his forearm to stop him “I know. I can tell. It’s okay. I know that if I hadn’t initiated it or followed up you would have never even considered it, I get it… but now, can we please do it again?”

He chuckles.

“You know where we’re staying and the number of my hotel room, sweetheart. And I also recall reading on some case file that you’re from Virginia and were just visiting your home town?”

You smile widely at him as you nod, pulling him in from his tie for one last kiss. Or who knows, it might not even be the last one.

MASTERLIST

#hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fic #hotch fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #bau team fanfiction

[jjeongddol]

I'm home, my love.

Now playing - screen time

ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ

jeonghan x reader

— "how could i possibly find someone else, when all you've done was love me right?" he could still see the spark and love in your eyes except, they were buried behind the glassy tears that were building up again at the brim of your eyes. it made your orbs look shinier than ever.

tagged: @nihyunluvskookie @hanicore @seaweedsoop

part 1 | part 2

ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫

It was 6:48pm, you're finally done with a yet another exhausting day at work. Ah, finally. The comfort of your own bed.

A heavy sigh left your lips as your back was met with the soft, silky comforter. Hair still wet from the shower, finally changed into your comfiest clothes—basketball shorts with that one white shirt that reeks the smell of Jeonghan.

It's been exactly a month since your drunken confession to your boyfriend. nothing's changed. He still leaves before you're awake—you can hear the rustle and his quiet footsteps as he paces around to get ready, trying to make the littlest amount of noise. ensuring not to leave before giving you a quick kiss on your forehead or shoulder as he rubs your arm soothingly—and reaches home after you head to bed. It's like a routine now—one that you'll never get used to.

You tried pushing down the negativity that has been clouding your mind. You're stubborn—why aren't you leaving him yet? You asked yourself the same question every day. Yet, here you are. still anticipating greetings in his presence.

Every corner of the apartment was awfully quiet. His side of the bed had been immensely cold. your fingers swiftly gliding across the vacant space. 

After a long day, there was no comfort in this well-filled space. All because this isn't your home; it was just a house you lived in.

Where could he possibly be?

It's starting to get to you that maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan was really over you. over all the things you had done together—to all the many firsts, anniversaries, lego dates—just anything you could possibly think of.

I'll give him one last week...

ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ

Pushing yourself off your shared bed, you moved towards the sleek chrome vanity that your boyfriend was able to find at the thrift store when you both first moved into this apartment.

Living with Jeonghan has been easy. You both have almost the same hobbies and interests, which allowed living together to be comfortable—something you were most worried about when he proposed for the two of you to live under the same roof.

Sure, you'd bicker all the time. How can you not when your partner is a literal menace? But you could never recall having big arguments. Jeonghan had always been soft with you. Even when you're having an argument and the pent-up anger is evident, he'll gently reach out for your hand to calm you down. Jeonghan always admires your beauty and cherishes your presence and company throughout the years you have spent together.

"I might seriously go crazy if we're not married and growing old together," he chuckled as his thumb brushed over your knuckles.

Sigh, what a sweet memory.

Bringing yourself out of your thoughts, you picked up a pan to get together a small meal before heading to bed. rinsing off the pans as well as your hand, moving towards the cupboards to gather your ingredients. making sure you weren't cooking a portion for two.

ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤㅤ

click *the tune of your keypad pierced through your apartment*

Who could it be? There's only a few people who know the password to your home—your family, his family, and obviously Jeonghan—but it's unlikely for any of them to visit or be home at this time.

And there, he stood.

It took you a second to realise that he was home. But at this hour? You could feel yourself frowning at his sudden appearance.

Grounded as you take in the realisation that he was back home. "Are you okay? Did you forget something?" you questioned, eyes laced with concern.

Your eyes were locked with his, and your mind was frantically trying to figure him out. Breath hitching as you study him. Oh, how bitter it was for you to feel this way, but that wasn't your Hannie. The man standing feet away felt like a stranger.

Your hannie was bright and cheerful, even when he was drained out physically. Your Hannie would approach you with open arms and drop whatever was in his hands just to be within your embrace. Your Hannie didn't look as solemn even when he had lost his little pet rock.

This wasn't the Jeonghan you knew and loved. This is the Jeonghan you couldn't recognise. The one you felt so emotionally detached from, the one you've tried so hard to reach out to but failed.

Where did my hannie go?

ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤㅤ

The silence was deafening. Your thoughts were so loud that you think Jeonghan could hear them screaming. Your eyes faltered to the ground as your lips formed a little pout. Oh boy, you knew this was going to be hell to calm yourself down.

Unintentionally, a loud sob slipped past your quivering lips as you choked on your tears. And with that, Jeonghan took big strides to have you in his arms.

Arms securely holding up your trembling figure as the other found its way through you damp hair. Pressing you up against his heaving chest. His own painful sobs escapes his lips melodically above your head, fingers lightly rubbing along your spine.

It hurt him to hear your cries and watch you crumble because of him. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry for leaving you confused like that," He coos at you, leaving a longing kiss on the top of your head as he gently swung your bodies.

"You must've been scared. I'm sorry, little one"

ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤㅤ

Jeonghan's words were only turning your sobs into wails. hands hitting weakly on his chest, mumbling your pent-up rants towards him.

Where have you been?

I don't even know how you've been?

Do you know how worried I am?

Was it easy for you to leave me like that?

I thought- I- I thought I lost my person.

Jeonghan's cold hands gently cupped your heated cheeks, placing butterfly kisses all over your face which managed to stop your rambling. Your eyes fell shut as you felt his plump lips against your glistening cheeks.

One on the left, and another on the right. On the crown of your forehead and the gentlest one on the bridge of your nose.

Resting his forehead against yours as, yet again, another heartbreaking sob escapes his mouth. You willed yourself to open your eyes, to be met with his reddened ones staring back into your glistening, puffy eyes.

ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ₊˚ ⋆ㅤ۫ ㅤㅤ

"I love you, baby. I really do. I was overwhelmed by the thought of us," taking in a gulp of air as he continues. "I've never been so comfortable with anyone like I have been with you. I'm aware that dating someone like me isn't easy. With my never-ending practices and even tours for months, I'm afraid you'll give up on me soon and find a new person."

He sounded so wrecked over you. Your ugly cries have not died down. Hearing his last sentence made your hands shoot up; now you're the one cradling his face.

"Yoon Jeonghan," you paused as you waited for him to look at you again. Fingers gently wiping away his tear streaks. "How could I possibly find someone else when all you've done was love me right?" He could still see the spark and love in your eyes except, they were buried behind the glassy tears that were welling up again at the brim of your eyes.

How your gaze became warmer than before.

"Stay with me, y/n," he murmured under the soft glow of the sunset streak. In that tender moment, he uttered promises of forever, resounding in your ears as your lips met in a delicate, soul-stirring kiss.

Your arms find their way around his neck as you deepen the kiss. Parting slightly to catch your breath as you stabilised your overwhelmed self. "I missed you. So, so much," you whispered, your voice filled with longing and love.

"You know, I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I signed myself up for this, Hannie. I'm not going to back down after I've spent years with you and your teasing ass," which brought a soft laugh out of you and your boyfriend.

After a long separation, your lips reunited in a tender, homecoming kiss. In that moment, time stood still, and the world around them faded away. It was always meant to be like this, leaving only their love and longing.

#yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #seventeen #jeonghan fic #jeonghan angst #jeonghan fluff #svt #comfort #svt smau #seventeen fic #slight angst #caratlibrary #established relationship #i bawled writing this #yoon jeonghan x reader

[braxlrose]

I miss ur writings sm :(

I am so sorry that I've been gone for so long, I haven't posted any fan fiction in so many months and honestly I lost motivation 😭 so many ppl who were in this fandom and I created a community with, were slowly getting over this "phase" and it definitely affected me. But I'm going to try and get back into writing. I hope this will do good for now! Ive had a lot of ppl recently ask for 2005 bill hcs, and I've done that before so if this is repetitive for something else I've written, sorry!

content warnings: none

a/n: I'll be updating my tag list since it hasn't been updated since like August of last year and I don't want to be tagging people who don't care or want to see these posts anymore. So if you wanna be tagged, let me know!

2005!bill kaulitz x f!reader

sfw:

- I'm an alternative person so whenever I write for bill, I always imagine him with an alternative girl 😞 even though from what I've seen he's never really been w/ an alternative one, BUT LETS PRETEND OKAY 🙏🙏

• he absolutely loves doing hair together, I think he enjoys helping you do your hair in the morning and your make up. And he's even more greatful if you do his makeup. Then he can just relax while you help him.

• pookie has crunchy ass hair at the end of the day when he has to wash it out, don't make fun of him 😞

• getting piercings together is something he LOVES doing with you. Mainly early piercings because he only has a tongue and eyebrow piercing on his face.

• if you made music too, he would always go to your concerts and basically scream the entire time. Hopefully, you'd do the same for him.

• if you have longer nails, head scratches are always a must and he will lay in your lap for literal hours while you pamper him.

- I personally think he would love to learn words in your language if you keep something different than German. And despite what anybody thinks, he finds it hilarious to learn the dirty words.

• if you cook him something from your culture, he will literally die. He basically thinks everything about you is so cool, and learning about a culture different from his is so exciting

• but if you two really want to date, you'll have to both try to learn English or each other language because there is going to be a hard language barrier between you two.

- I think one of the reasons he would've fallen in love with you is because you were upfront with him. He's not the type of guy to just go up and kiss someone so if you confess first, that would make things so much easier.

- obviously, you'd have to get along with Tom, Georg and Gustav. So if you don't, there's no way he'll go out with you, especially if you can't get along or hate Tom.

-Dates together consist of stuff you guys bought somewhere, or if you guys went to a fastfood restaurant.

• He doesn't have a lot of money yet so dates wouldn't exactly be high class, hopefully you don't mind 😉

-Since this is around the time Tokio Hotel is getting increasingly famous, there are fangirls around trying to flirt and ask out bill all the time and he has to shoo them off. He reminds you every night about how much he loves you and that those fan girls shouldn't bother you.

-he likes to spoon you a lot, and you two switch back n forth between him being the big spoon and the small spoon.

• I think he also really likes it when you lay on top of him, with your face in his neck and your legs wrapped around him. (This also works sitting upwards).

• cuddling with him is so nice too because he actually smells really good 😱

- I think he still gets very insecure sometimes because of the haters and people who harass the band because they don't like them and you reassure him a lot.

a/n pt 2: sorry this wasn't too long! I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing so if this is terrible I'm sorry 😞

taglist: none right now

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x yn #tokio hotel fanfics #i hope this wasnt completely terrible #i havent written in forever 😞

[ethanmorales]

Misconceptions

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Part 4 - Air

Pairing: Ethan Morales x fem reader 4.1k words Requested Tags: @arij3lly@hitoshislut@bjrmaybank@ghostfaceorgirlfriend @in-silverlake @misacc08 Warnings: swearing, smut

It's the beginning of a brand-new school year at Sherman Oaks high. The last year for some of us; me included. But the start of my senior year, ironically, is not the reason my legs are wobbly. Nope, that was all because of Ethan, who had knocked on my window for a late-night visit about 6 hours ago. There were a few things he wanted to try so… let’s just say, it was a good thing my mom had the night shift at the hospital.

It’s only been a week since our first time. Only a week since he admitted having feelings for me. Unfortunately, we didn’t discuss the matter further. My mom had gotten home after his confession, and he practically had to take his clothes and run out the back door before we got caught. We’ve met almost every day since, but we haven’t talked about us. We kiss a lot and of course we have sex, sometimes we even cuddle, and we talk about our days, but we never talk about what we are to each other and at this point, I’m afraid to ask.

I loved every second of the time we’ve spent together. But now that school has started again, I’m afraid. Afraid that things will go back to how they used to be. Afraid that a new girl will catch his attention. I know it makes no sense, after he confessed to having feelings for me, but the heart is a treacherous thing. You can never trust it. I most certainly don’t trust mine. It always makes me feel crazy most times. Or maybe it’s my mind that’s the problem.

It doesn’t help that it’s almost time for first period and I’ve not heard from Ethan yet. He usually texts me as soon as he wakes up. Today? Nada. I even texted him first, but he left me on read.  So, I’m spiraling, just a little bit. I think I’m entitled to in this situation.

I glance around the hallway one more time as the bell rings. I don’t see him anywhere. At that moment, Devi links her arm around mine. “That was the bell ringing just now,” she said, pointing a finger in the air.

I ignored the sarcasm but let her steer me away to our first class.

“I was expecting some witty remark,” she said, when I didn’t reply.

I force myself to smile, “Sorry, head in the clouds today.”

“It’s okay, girl. The first day of school sucks. My sleeping schedule is so messed up from a summer full of all-nighters.”

I quirk an eyebrow at this, “Do these all-nighters have a name?”

Devi shakes her head furiously, “Nope. No name at all.” I pretended to believe her as our teacher walked in the door, closing it behind him. I look back to Ethan’s desk but it’s empty. I hide my phone under the desk and shoot him a quick text.

Skipping on the first day? That’s bad, even for you.

Devi smacks the top of my desk, eyes wide. I glance to the front of the classroom and see the teacher is staring right at me. “Sorry, Mr. Shapiro.”

He sighs, “You guys are lucky I am the coolest teacher ever,” he continues before anyone can respond. “Raise of hands if you completed your summer reading,” pauses, “Yes, the audio book counts. No, the movie does not.”

The rest of the class was a blur. A glance at my phone confirmed that Ethan hadn’t responded. The anxiety in my chest continued to grow as time continued to pass. At lunchtime I still hadn’t heard from him. At this point, I was angry.

Fuming, I stomped all the way to my locker, putting away my books and backpack for the hour. As I’m closing the door, Dominic Stryker leans against the locker next to mine. Dominic was an exchange student that started late last semester. Everyone was surprisingly welcoming to him, but that might have something to do with the fact that he’s hot. Mind you, I only have eyes for Ethan but if I didn’t, the windswept blond hair and bright blue eyes would do it for me.

But Ethan was very much the only person that I wanted, so Dominic’s presence only served to irritate me more.

“Yes?” I asked when he just stared at me, sweeping his hair back with his hand.

Unfazed by my tone, he smiles warmly at me, “Say, have you seen Ethan anywhere? He hasn’t been in any of our classes.”

I frown at this, “Of all the people you could ask, why would I know where he is?”

Dominic shrugs, “I just got a vibe last time, like you were into him or something.”

I huffed. “I am definitely not into him.” I say it louder than I intend to, and some people slow down to look at us. He waves at them, and they quickly carry on with their business.

“My bad,” he says, looking back at me, smiling wider, “Just a misunderstanding.”

I sigh, once I realize that I’m being snappy and rude. “I’m sorry. It’s not been a great morning, I’m a little on edge. There’s no excuse for taking it out on you.”

Dominic slides over the lockers a bit, cutting some of the distance between us; then lowers his voice.

“I forgive you,” he says, “but I might have to seek compensation for the emotional damage.”

I roll my eyes, but a smile does tug at my lips. “Whatever. I’ll buy you a soda. Is that compensation enough?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “How about a meal? After school?”

I suddenly realized that he was asking about Ethan to make sure he could make his move. And I basically gave him the opening. Horrified, I struggle to respond.

“I- uh

“She’s busy after school.” The voice was very close behind me. I turned around so quickly that I bumped into his chest.

“Ethan.” Even at my addressing him, he didn’t look at me. His eyes were fixed on Dominic. For the moment, I ceased to exist.

“I think Y/N can decide if she’s busy or not,” Dominic says, standing up straighter to look down at Ethan. But Ethan seems unfazed.

“I think you need to keep walking before I lose my patience.” Ethan’s words were calm, but I knew him well enough to know this was the calm before the storm. I’ve seen him fight before; Dominic did not stand a chance if it turned into that.

“Guys, please. Just stop. If you get detention this week, they won’t let you come to homecoming.” I was trying to be the voice of reason, but my reasoning was lacking in many ways. My audience could care less about homecoming, for one.

“I’m still waiting for a response, “Dominic says, ignoring my previous statement. “Food after school? I know a cool spot.”

Ethan pulls me to the side so that he can face Dominic without me being in the middle.

“I already told you that she’s busy.” Ethan’s voice was not as calm as before. His hands were balled into fists. I knew I had to stop this now or it would turn into a fight.

“I got a lot going on right now, sorry Dominic.” My words come out quick.

Ethan smiled at this, motioning towards me. “You heard her. Now go find someone else to hit on.”

Dominic’s expression was deadly as he stared back at Ethan, but then his gaze turned to me.

“I thought you were definitely not into him,” he said it in a mocking tone, air quotations in the air. I didn’t know what to say that could make this better, so I just looked at him with what I hoped looked like a silent apology.  He just shook his head in disbelief as he pushed past us, finally leaving us alone.  

Even with his departure, Ethan stays in place, still not looking at me.

“Ethan?” I finally say.

I jump in surprise as he slams his fist on the locker door and I see the metal bend.

“Oh my God,” I grab his arm and pull him away before anyone sees what he did. I haul him through the hallway and take a left, this part of school is empty during lunch time. I find the nearest door and push him through it. I lock the door behind us and turn around. It’s the faculty bathroom, I realize.

“Are you insane? Do you know how much trouble you could get into for damaging school property? You don’t need a vandalism strike on your records.”

He finally turns to face me, but the expression on his face is even angrier than before.

“What the fuck do I care about that?” he replies. Before I can start listing the reasons why he should care, he continues, “What the fuck was that shit about?” He points to the door, but I know he is talking about Dominic. I stay quiet for a moment, not sure how to proceed. I had never seen him this angry. Ever. But at the same time, screw him. I was angry at him myself.

“I should be the one asking you, what the fuck was that? I’ve been looking for you all morning and texting you and nothing. You ghost me and then have the audacity to throw a jealous scene over some guy asking me out?!” The volume of my voice rose with each word.

 I half expected Ethan to throw more angry words at me, or to yell back at me, but it was the opposite. His voice low, he responds. “I dropped my phone in the toilet this morning.”

I stare, waiting for the punchline but he doesn’t say anything else.

“You dropped your phone in the toilet,” I repeat, not sure if I believed it.

Ethan let out an annoyed breath, “I was going to respond to your text, and I dropped it. If you texted after the first one that I read, I haven’t seen them. I left my phone in a bowl of rice.”

I scoff, “Your phone is waterproof.”

Ethan gives me a pointed look, “Not if you leave it in water for a long time, apparently.”

“Why would you leave it in there at all?”

Silence.

“Ethan, I am trying to give you the chance to explain.”

He mumbled something under his breath.

I take a step closer to hear him better. “What was that?”

Ethan shakes his head. “My parents were fighting again.”

“Oh.” Is all I can say.

Ethan laughs, but the sound is bitter.

“Yeah. So, I’m sorry I couldn’t get back to you then. But you letting this dick hit on you while I’m dealing with that shit. Fuck that.”

I suddenly felt terrible, even though I didn’t know what was happening until he explained. We kept ending up in this situation, always with a misunderstanding. But I knew the only reason this kept happening is because our communication was shit. Because I didn’t know where we stood.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he was hitting on me until it was too late.” I finally say.

Ethan scoffs – not amused.

“What are we?” I finally ask, exasperated. As soon as the words spill out of my mouth, I regret them. This was the last thing Ethan would want to talk about with everything going on.

Ethan just stares at me. Looking beautiful and tortured.

“Sorry. Forget I said anything,” my voice trembles and I hate it.

Ethan steps closer. “Are you serious?”

I meet his gaze, but I can’t decipher the emotion in his eye.

“I said forget about it!” I start turning to leave, embarrassed at my outburst. Ethan just pulls me into him and kisses me. I’m too stunned to respond to his kiss, which seems to upset Ethan more as he pushes me into the bathroom sink, kissing me more aggressively. I give in and kiss him back. His tongue quickly starts a tug of war with mine as he deepens the kiss. After a moment of this, I can’t remember what we were arguing about in the first place. All I can think about is the way his mouth moves with mine, effortlessly. His hands on my waist, then lower, cupping my butt. I pull away for a moment, “It’s the teacher’s bathroom,” I said, my voice breathless.

“I don’t give a fuck,” is all he says, as he kisses me once more, then stops, “You asked me a question. I’m making my point.” I try to remember what the question was but then we’re back at it and I forget to remember.

Ethan plops me on top of the sink as we continue kissing. I feel one of his hands on my thigh and then moving slowly up under my skirt.

“Fuck.” He groans against my lips. I smile, knowing that he has realized I’m not wearing underwear.

“This better have been for me and not for that asshole,” he says as his fingers caress my opening.

I look at him, annoyed. Smack him in the chest. “Do you really think I care about Dominic?”

Ethan holds my gaze steadily and my heart flutters. Stupid body. Why do you have to react in the most annoying ways at the worst possible times. Who cares about his beautiful caramel skin and beautiful brown eyes. He is a jerk.

“I hope not.” He finally says.

“What?”

“I hope you don’t care about him. I hope you only care about me.”

My heart speeds up. “I don’t care about him or any other guy.” I start to tell him that he was the only one I care about, but I don’t get a chance to tell him. In that moment, he slips a finger inside of me and I gasp in surprise. Ethan holds my gaze as he slips a second finger in. I let out a shaky breath as he starts moving in and out.

“I’m the only guy who’s allowed to do this, do you understand?” His tone was a mixture of anger and lust. I was holding on to his arms for dear life as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, then he presses on my clitoris with both fingers, which makes me moan involuntarily. I claw my nails into his arms to keep myself together.

“Do you understand?” he asks again. Fighting the ache building up inside me and breathing heavier by the second, I nod.

His fingers stop moving suddenly, leaving with their absence, a vengeful kind of coldness and I whine in protest. “Ethannn”

“Say it.” He demands. I frown at him, annoyed.

“Fine. You’re the only one who is allowed to do this.”

He smirks. “Yeah, I am.”

I think of an insult to throw at him but never get to say it. At my saying what he wants to hear, Ethan’s hands spread my legs apart and he kneels, his head disappearing under my skirt. Still, I’m not prepared for the attack from his tongue.

Ethan’s POV

I’m not proud at how I reacted about that dick hitting on her, but when I walked over and heard him flirting with her and then asking her out…  It felt like I was set on fire by some supernatural being. It took all of me not to pummel him right there. The nerve on this fucker; to ask my girl out. But what really fucked me up is that she didn’t immediately reject him. That felt like a stab to the heart. I wanted to burn the whole damn world down.

Once in the bathroom, as we threw angry words at each other I realized what the problem was. We both care too fucking much, but we also hold back even more.

Most of the anger in me dissipates at her words when she finally says what I want to hear, even if she only says them because I told her to. I don’t know how to say the things I want to say, so I decided to show her to the best of my abilities. I drop to my knees and in between her legs and under the shield of her skirt, I kiss her in her wetness. I hear her breathing pick up as I suck at her clit; her hand grabbing at my hair. I groan, turned on even more at the simple gesture. I loved it when she did that.

I pull away and she practically whimpers. “Don’t stop.”

I stand up and look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest moving fast with shallow breaths. I feel more blood rushing to my dick. The pain is almost unbearable now.

“Hang on, baby.” I fumble with the button in my jeans. Once I pull them with my boxers, I let her look at me for a moment, the desire in her eyes just driving me to the edge. I pull her to me for a second, kiss her lips softly and smile.

“Now turn around,” I order.

She looks confused for a second, but she does as she is told. Her doing everything I ask her makes me so fucking horny, she has no idea how much power she has over me. Fueled by an animalistic kind of desire, I guide her to a bending position and hold her hips with both my hands. Without a word, I push myself into her. I see her grab onto the sink to support herself as I drive myself deeper inside her. I give her a moment to get used to the feeling since it’s the first time we have done this.

I can see her flushed face through the mirror and when she makes eye contact with me, I catch the silent plea. At this, I lose whatever is left of my sanity. I plunge myself inside of her. She moans and I follow, as I slip in and out. As I watch our reflections in the mirror, I see when she starts to close her eyes as the pleasure continues to build. I hate the idea of her not looking at me when I’m inside her. I pulled out and turn her around to face me.

“Don’t take your eyes off me.”

I lift her onto the sink again and hold her gaze as I shove my throbbing dick inside her again. At this angle, her head falls back when she screams. I grab her face to make her look at me.

“God, Ethan.” Her reaction eggs me on. I move faster, knowing I have a limited time to make her cum. I was barely hanging on as it is. Our breaths were labored as I continued to fuck her. You could hear her wetness as I moved, but her pussy continued to tighten around me so I knew she was close. I slid out a bit and positioned myself slightly to the left before I pushed myself in again. She screamed, loudly this time. I smiled at finding the right spot and moved faster. This time, as if we were in sync, we came together. Once we rode the wave, breathing heavily, I gently helped her off the sink. After pulling my pants up, I loop my arms around her and rest my sweaty forehead against hers. We both closed our eyes, trying to catch our breath.

“What I was trying to say is… you’re mine.” I finally found the words.

I open my eyes to find her watching me. Her face gets redder. I’m confused for a moment and then realize why she’s upset.

“And I’m yours. I thought that part was obvious.” I say.

Y/N narrows her eyes at me, and I laugh.

“How is that obvious?” she asks.

“I told you how I felt last week. If anything, I’m the only one that should be angry. You never told me how you felt about me.”

“I thought that part was obvious.” She throws the words back at me, her tone playful.  

I smile and kiss her deeply.

“So how do you feel about me?” I ask after we stop.

I didn’t want to admit that it had bothered me so much. We’ve spent the last week glued to each other and not once had she brought it up, so I decided to not bring it up and make an even bigger fool out of myself. But the more days passed, the more insecure I became. That’s probably why I lost my mind earlier.

Y/N smiles softly and cups my face with her hands.

“I’ve been crazy about you for I don’t know how long,” she says. I smiled at her words, the heavy feeling in my chest finally easing.

“Me? But I suck,” I say jokingly.

“Yet I’m still in love with you.” She pushes at me gently, embarrassed. I grin like an idiot at her declaration.

I grab her face and kiss her again. Once, twice, three times.

“Ethan,” she giggles. I bury my face in her neck and kiss her there too, holding her tightly against me.

“I love you too.” I say.

When she looks at me, I see stars in eyes.

A knock on the door makes us both jump.

“Shit.”

Y/N POV

“Oh God, we’re going to get expelled.”

Ethan chuckles at this and I smack his arm.

“Just deny everything. They didn’t see anything so it’s their word against ours.”

I shake my head, “But the door was locked.”

“Hey,” he says, lifting my chin up, “You trust me?”

I nod and he smiles.

“Then follow my lead.”

I do. I walk slowly behind him, fighting the soreness in my body and holding on to Ethan’s arm when I notice how shaky my legs are. Ethan looks beside me and realizes. He gives me what seems to be an apologetic smile.

We moved to the door, which was still being knocked on. He turns the lock and opens it.

We’re both surprised to see Paxton standing there, swimming coach uniform on. I don’t think Ethan was prepared to see him of all people. He stays quiet.

Paxton looks at him and then me, almost trying to hide a smile.

“You guys should go. Now. Be thankful it was me.”

I let out a sigh of relief and so did Ethan. We started moving around him and out into the hallway, but Paxton put a hand up to stop me as I was about to walk past him.

“You might want to try being a bit more… discreet next time.” I look at him, confused and he elaborates, stepping closer to not be heard. “You were loud. Like very loud.” I blush furiously at his words and speed away from him. I heard him chucking behind me.

The end of lunch arrives at the sound of the bell and suddenly the empty hallways fill up again, everyone going into classrooms and their lockers to pick up their stuff at the last minute. As we’re moving through the people around us, Ethan’s hand slips into mine and he interlocks our fingers. I quickly looked at him in a question. But he just smiles. We walk to my next classroom, and he walks in with me, hand in hand, even though we don’t share this class. We get to my desk, which coincidentally, is next to Dominic’s. I understand now.

“Thanks for walking me.” I say, shyly. I hear my classmates whistling and adding commentary in the background. I sit down but notice Ethan hasn’t moved from his spot. I look at him in a question. He then bends down and kisses me long. I vaguely hear angry muttering beside me, but I ignore it, lost in the kiss.

“Good afternoon Mr. Morales. I wasn’t aware I had you in this class.” My math teacher had arrived.

Ethan winked at me as he moved away to leave. “I’m out,” he tells my teacher, hands up in surrender, turns around and points at me, “I just wanted to take care of my lady.”

The whole class reacts loudly.

I sink lower into my desk. Still, I smile. He was announcing to the world that we’re together, claiming me in front of everyone.  I couldn’t imagine ever being happier than I was in that moment.

The End.

___________________

A/N: Thank you all for reading! You are bomb! Hope you enjoyed this little story of mine. I enjoyed writing it. Stay tuned for other fanfics and/or one shots about Ethan. ☺️

Stay awesome, much love xx

#ethan morales #ethan morales fanfic #ethan morales x reader #never have i ever #never have i ever season 4 #ben gross #devi vishwakumar #michael cimino #nhie #nhie s4

[babydollmarauders]

MOTHERHOOD — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

start of the el!hughes au

summary: in which y/n makes a small mistake in the middle of the night and thinks it makes her a bad mother, so jack reassures her

warnings: breastfeeding (idk if that should really be a warning but just in case)

**NOT MY GIF**

was a baby planned? no. in fact, if it were, we definitely would’ve started trying with a summer birthday in mind so Jack wouldn’t have to leave.

but alas, the universe had different plans for Jack and i. not to say we weren’t over the moon when we found out. this past 3 weeks with our daughter has been amazing, we love her with everything we have. but mistakes are inevitable.

**

a slightly static cry echoes from the baby monitor, effectively waking me up for the second time tonight. it feels like my head has only just hit the pillow, but without even being completely awake, i know it’s actually been roughly an hour, possibly two. i peek an eye open to look at my alarm clock. 2:15am.

squeezing my eyes shut, i groan as i turn my head towards Jack’s pillow.

“Jacky, it’s your turn. i got her the last time.” i mumble, letting my breathing even out again with the knowledge that my husband will get the baby.

it feels like no time has passed when i’m woken up again by Eleanor’s crying. it almost seemingly amplified. i peek my eye open again to look at the time. 2:30am. it’s been fifteen minutes.

“Jack, did you not hear me? do you not hear her?” i reach a hand out to shake him awake, but instead touch cold sheets. my brows furrow in confusion before my head snaps up.

jack is on a roadie.

his first since El was born. oh my god, how could i have forgotten?

i just let my baby cry for at least fifteen minutes, thinking that Jack would get her, and he isn’t even here.

tears spring to my eyes as i stand from the bed, speed walking to the nursery.

“it’s okay, El. mommy’s here.” i coo as i pick up my daughter. slow tears roll down her cheeks, pulling at my heart strings.

i change her diaper but her crying continues, letting me know that her main concern is hunger. i rub her back as i bring her back to Jack and i’s room, sitting in the bed and unbuttoning my pajama shirt to let her latch onto my breast.

i gaze down at my newborn. watching her eyes flutter as she eats. so fragile and beautiful.

tears gather in my eyes at the recollection that i let her cry for so long. silent sobs rack my chest as i admire my sweet baby.

i reach out with my hand, blindingly searching for my phone on my nightstand. grasping it in my hand, i disregard the 2:45am time and click into the contact i was searching for, pressing the facetime button.

i continue to quietly cry as i watch El eat, listening to the phone’s outgoing ring. i perk my head up as i hear the facetime connect, a dark screen popping up.

“babe? what’s up? is El okay?” Jack’s groggy voice comes through the speakers, reminding me that i woke him up.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” i cry, startling the baby and making her jump in arms.

“hey.” Jack coos, but he’s now turned the lamp by his hotel bed on, letting me see his panicked face. “what happened? is she okay? what’s wrong?”

“she’s okay.” i manage to get out. he lets out a sigh, his shoulders dropping in relief.

“then what are you apologizing for, sweet girl?” he asks. he’s being so kind that it makes my breathing shake.

“i’m a horrible mother.” i confess. “you should’ve never had a baby with me. i’m horrible.”

“what? no, you’re not.” his words come out harsh, seemingly offended by mine. “why would you say that about yourself.”

“i let her cry.” i tell him. my tears drip down onto my chest and i wipe them away before they can reach Eleanor.

“i’m confused.” Jack replies, midst yawn.

“i woke up and she was crying, but i was so tired, Jack. i- i forgot you were gone. i thought you were gonna get her, because we switch off and i had just changed her diaper like an hour ago.”

i’m broken off by my sob, gasping to catch my breath.

“so i went back to sleep.” i explain. “i woke up fifteen minutes later to her still crying and remembered you were gone. but i let her cry for at least fifteen minutes, Jack. i’m a horrible mother. she deserves better. you deserve better.”

“hey. look at me.” he says. i open my eyes from their pinched shut position, looking at my husband on the phone screen. “you are not a bad mom.”

“you made one small mistake. you were tired and you’re not used to me not being there to help take care of her. that doesn’t make you a bad mom. it makes you human. aren’t you the one who keeps joking that you have ‘new mom brain’? you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to you right now. it’s normal.” he reassures me.

my breathing calms slightly as i set the phone down to take care of my now-sleeping baby. setting her down in the bassinet beside the bed rather than taking her back to her nursery. i readjust my top, buttoning it back up before picking the phone up again.

“it is?” i question.

“yeah. i’m sure if you asked the other WAG’s right now, they would tell you they did the same thing, or something similar. you’re not a bad mother.”

“you promise?”

“i promise, baby.” his eyes are soft, my tears finally halting. “is she asleep now?”

“yeah.” i nod my head, flipping the camera around and angling it so he can see El sleep.

“we made that.” his voice is giddy, not bothering to hold back his loving smile.

“yeah, we did.” i whisper.

“get some sleep, eh? i’ll call you in the morning. i love you, sugar. and i love our girl.” he yawns once more, turning off his bedside lamp and relaxing back into his bed.

“i love you too, Jacky. thank you for picking up. and for reassuring me.” i whisper, turning my own lamp off and plugging my phone back in.

“always.” he replies before we hang up. i take one more look at Eleanor, making sure she’s okay before i lay back down, closing my eyes and letting myself drift to sleep once again.

-

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl blurb #faithlynn’s writings <3