#I don’t like either of those options. I just want my body to stay the same and keep wearing things.

[hxltic]

i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.

The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.

He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?

Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.

Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.

Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.

“Holy- shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.

It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion (like embarrassment) you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.

He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.

Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.

You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.

“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.

“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”

He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”

Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.

“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”

Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway—not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open—and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.

While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.

“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.

“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”

Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”

“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.

“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”

“They probably already are.”

He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face; but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too.

Nothing compared to the sheer size of his legs, but still up there. They had to be the size of your head. By photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake when he takes the uniform off.

Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.

You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”

“Right… just like how all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”

Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with shame that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.

You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”

He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.

“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”

Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a declaration you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck—the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I- uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.

Of course, to add to the fucking humiliation, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.

“Is that all you read?”

You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”

He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”

Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.

“N-No,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.

“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”

To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.

This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.

You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses, but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.

“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”

Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”

You look him up and down. “So?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.

“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”

You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”

He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah—I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.

“Which part were you reading?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway—she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”

Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.

“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”

You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.

“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”

You finally halt at the words. He was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”

So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.

You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and lean in. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.

This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.

“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”

The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.

“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”

You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.

The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.

“Poor thing was up here by herself. If dick was what you really wanted, you know you could have always asked.”

“Hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.

The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.

He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.

“Fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his head for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.

You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.

“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”

You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts.

He commands, “Again.”

“Y-Yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.

How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.

“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”

“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.

“No the fuck you’re not.”

Godammit.

Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did want to, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.

Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”

“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”

Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.

“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”

He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.

“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.

And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”

You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”

You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.

“No. Come here.”

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.

“My face, baby.”

Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”

You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.

“Sit.”

“Are you sure?” You clarify.

“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between your thighs. The only thing visible is his damp hair.

Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.

You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.

Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”

You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.

Shakily, you call out, “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.

“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.

“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him at all.

“Hmphh?”

“I’m close…can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.

To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.

this was kinda rushed

©️hxltic

[sunonyoreface]

One Cot - Simon “Ghost” Riley

Hi there, this story is a one shot about Simon Riley. I haven’t played COD before and I don’t know much about his character, but I love the thought of tough men being soft.

Summary: You help Ghost on a cold night and he returns the favour.

Word count: 2398

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: none, fluff.

Crews like task force 141 aren’t the type to pack extra cots. They don’t need them. Because crews like 141 don’t make a habit of bringing home extra bodies. There’s only ever one scenario when they have extra cots. Luckily for them, tonight’s not one of those nights.

For me, however, that means another night on the floor with my ankle cuffed to the bottom of one of their cots in case I try to run.

 Although I’m deemed non-violent, I’m also a flight risk. According to them at least.

 According to me, I have no clue where we are or how I’d even survive away from them. I’ve got no money, no ID, no map or compass, or even the slightest clue how I’d escape. Regardless, the cuffs stay on.

 My wrists face the same fate. But my hands are free enough to rake them through my damp hair, working them through the tangles. It’s a soothing feeling of normalcy in this strange place.

 In his cot on the other side of the room, Soap waits for one of the other boys to return from the showers and trade off babysitting duty.

 One thing I can say is that chivalry is not dead, because they allowed me to shower first. Not that it matters all that much. There’s no hot water anyway so there isn’t much of a benefit in going first. But it’s the thought that counts.

 Ghost is the first one back. It’s strange not seeing him wear layers upon layers of tactical gear. Instead, he only wears dark jeans and a black henley. And the balaclava too. I’ve yet to see him take it off. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showered with it on. I don’t know that the other guys have seen him take it off either. They make comments sometimes, little jabs and jokes about how it never comes off. Ghost hardly notices though. Or maybe I should say hardly reacts. He’s stoic through it all, preventing any emotions from breaking through.

 Soap leaves without a word. They understand their positions. So well, that half the time I think they’re communicating through their thoughts.

 Ghost places a duffel bag on the cot I’m cuffed to. I sit cross-legged on a blanket on the floor as he ruffles through it.

 His strong form towers over me two feet away. Ghost doesn’t make eye contact as I watch him search through the bag. He’s less threatening without the bulky gear and a gun in his hand. But that mask is still terrifying enough to find its way into your dreams.

 However, it's not the mask that sets me on edge around Ghost, it’s his eyes. They’re cold and unwavering, giving away nothing. They’re the eyes of a killer. Of someone who enjoys inflicting pain. Of someone whose been in so much pain himself, his only release is passing it on to others.

 He hasn’t bothered me that much since my first day with them all. Back when he was ready to put me down like a lame horse. I was a loose end that needed to be tied up. Still am, if I’m being honest. Price stopped him, but if it was up to Ghost, I’d have been dead for days now. Even now, I’m sure part of him wants to kill me knowing it’s the more logical option. But until then, he’s under orders to keep me alive.

 “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a staring problem?” His rough voice breaks the silence. He rarely acknowledges me so for him to speak up must mean I’ve struck a nerve. My mouth suddenly feels dry.

 “Just you,” I say. “Sorry.”

 But I don’t look away. I continue to watch him search through the bag. I don’t know what he’s looking for but he can’t seem to find it. The tight sleeves of the Henley hug his strong arms. Even through the fabric, I can see the defined lines of his muscles. His posture is nearly perfect and his movements could almost be considered robotic.

 “What’re you looking for?” He doesn’t seem like the type of person to misplace his things.

 “Nothing,” he responds bluntly.

 “Maybe it fell behind the cot. I can check for you?” I offer.

 “Negative.”

 “Are you sure beca-“

 “Stop talking, y/n,” he snaps. I flinch at his response. As he says this he finally makes eye contact with me and I regret ever looking at him. There’s an anger in his eyes that no man I’ve ever met has been able to match. A deep-rooted hatred for the world and all of its inhabitants. It’s not a look that you’re born with. It’s one that’s carved from years of pain and betrayal. He’s witnessed the type of things that would break most people. The intensity of his gaze is too much. I break eye contact to stare at the floor.

 Fine. I won’t try to help.

 I lean against the cement wall and try to think about anything else. I press my hands to the inside of my thighs in an attempt to warm them up.

 When they found me I was only in ripped shorts and a ratty tank top with nothing else to my name.

 Since then some of the men spared me a set of long johns, a long sleeve shirt, and a pair of thick socks. I’m not allowed shoes in case I try and take off. It’s better than what I had but the warehouse is cold and the cement floor seems to suck out any heat my body produces.

 Ghost angrily zips up the duffel bag and tosses it on the floor at the other end of the cot. I watch the bag skid for a foot before finally coming to a stop.

 He climbs onto the cot with a dissatisfied grunt. Ghost sleeps with his head on the far side of the cot and his feet at the end I’m cuffed to. He doesn’t take his shoes off. None of them do. In fact, I’m surprised he isn’t sleeping with more gear on. Some days they’ll all sleep in their tactical gear as if they’re waiting to be attacked. Part of me is relieved they don’t feel as though that’s a threat tonight.

 I can hear voices echo down the halls. Some of the others must be done in the showers.

 I lie down on my makeshift bed: a pillow and a blanket that I fold in half to act as a mattress and duvet.

 When I lie down, however, something shiny catches my eye under Ghost’s cot.

 It’s a tiny chain. A necklace.

 On my hands and knees, I crawl under his cot to grab the necklace.

 “What’re you doing?” Ghost mumbles above me. I hear him shift his weight against the rough canvas fabric.

 When I back out from under the cot, he’s sitting with his legs off the edge. Suspiciously eyeing my movements. His right hand is in one of his pant pockets probably wrapped around a knife in case I try something.

 I kneel in front of the bed beside his legs. My damp hair clings to my neck and the tip of my nose is red and cold.

 I raise the chain up to Ghost. His eyes latch on immediately.

 “Is this it?” I ask. He eyes me suspiciously. I see him searching for any signs of deceit. Maybe I lied to him and hid the chain from him. Maybe I pickpocketed him before he went to shower. But I didn’t do any of those things. I hold his eye contact this time. His brows soften ever so slightly. It seems to be enough.

 Ghost doesn’t say anything. Instead, he simply grabs the chain from my hand. His fingers brush against my palm as he scoops it up. He examines it a moment before slipping it over his neck and tucking it under his shirt.

 I don’t know why but I was hoping for a thank you. Or at least an acknowledgment that I’d helped. But Ghost remains silent. At the same time, the voices reach the room. Roach and Gaz round the corner from the hallway.

 At their entrance, I turn back to my makeshift bed and pretend to sleep. It’s not that I don’t like them - although I don’t, in fact, I don’t like any of them - but I don’t have the energy for more questions from them tonight.

 I hear Ghost shift in his cot and it seems our thoughts are on the same track.

 As hard as I try, sleep doesn’t come. They shut off the main lights over an hour ago, yet I still haven’t calmed down enough to drift off. It doesn’t help that I can’t stop shivering from the cold.

 The warehouse remains utterly silent except for the light snores and breathing of the men. Only the emergency lights fill the corners of the room with dim, orange light. They’re almost comforting in a way.

 I pull the single blanket tighter around my shoulders and ball up even smaller if that’s possible, but nothing helps. My bones shake and my teeth rattle. If only I had another blanket.

 The cot next to me creaks as Ghost shifts in his sleep. It creaks some more and then I notice he’s sitting up.

 Ghost spares a glance in my direction as he rummages through his pocket for something.

 Something silver glints in the light and I realize it’s a key. He wordlessly tosses it in my direction and by some stroke of luck, I catch it mid-air.

 It’s the key to the cuffs. I spare an uneasy glance in his direction. He wants me to uncuff myself?

 Ghost doesn’t react. Instead, he watches as I process my thoughts, as I push through my weariness and unlock my ankles first before freeing my wrists.

 I reach to pass the key back to him but instead of grabbing the key, his large hand wraps completely around my wrist and tugs me in close.

 I’m face to face with him as his other hand wraps around my jaw so I can’t pull away.

 “If you try to run, I’ll kill you,” his low voice is barely above a whisper. The edge to his tone makes the threat feel all the more real.

 “Okay,” I nod in response. My heart is racing and I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

 “Come here. Bring your blanket,” he motions to the cot. I spare a glance at the narrow bed. Surely he doesn’t want to share it with me? There’s barely enough room for one person let alone two.

 “I don’t know,” I whisper back as though it’s an option. I don’t know where he’s going with this suggestion and I don’t think I trust him.

 “That’s an order, y/n,” his response does nothing to ease my soul, but I grab my blanket anyway and crawl onto the cot.

 It’s now he notices my hesitancy. How I purposely leave space between us on the bed. That I’m unsure of why he wants me up here. The fogginess of his intentions.

 “I can't sleep with the sound of your teeth rattling in my ears all night,” nothing changes in my expression so he tries again, his tone softer this time. “You’re safe, y/n. I’m safe. Nothing’s going to happen.”

 I sigh in relief but don’t say anything in response. He knows.

 “C’mere,” he lifts the blanket for me to slide in. The warmth immediately welcomes me into the space.

 The cot is more narrow than a twin mattress and leaves little to no wiggle room for two people. I’m pressed tightly into Ghost's chest as his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer and preventing me from falling off.

 I thought I’d be tense but the heat under the blankets completely relaxes me. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. His balaclava is soft against my cheek. I hear his breathing pick start to pick up. I can feel his chest expand deeper than before.

 “Thank you,” my voice is barely audible, but I know he heard.

 As I adjust to our proximity, I breathe in the scents that linger on his skin and in his clothes. I can smell the same standard citrusy shampoo on him as myself and the rest of the crew use. But there’s also a remainder of smoke and gunpowder from the day’s work. There’s something else more unique to him and yet I can’t put my finger on it. I take a deep breath and allow myself to revel in the calming smells. This shouldn’t be comforting and yet it is.

 Nothing about this situation should be comforting and yet I feel safer than I have in weeks.

 Wrapped in Ghost's arms, I know nothing else in the world can get to me. My only danger is the man who holds me. Yet I know in this instance after he’s sacrificed his space and his bed for me, that I’ve got nothing to worry about.

 Ghost shifts against the canvas again. This time pulling me on top of him as he spreads out across his cot. He wraps his arms around my back he readjusts for the final time. I feel so small on top of him. Ghost spreads a hand out across my lower back and it feels as though it takes up the entire width of the space. His thumb soothingly brushes back and forth along the arch of my spine.

 I lay my head on his chest and listen to the thrum of his heart. It beats strong and steady like a bass drum. I feel myself relaxing even more as my breathing starts to match his. I feel myself start to drift as my head lulls with his chest when it rises and falls.

 For the first time in a long time, I don’t worry about what tomorrow brings. I’m so content in his arms that I don’t think about what’s next. All that fills my mind is the strength of his heartbeat and the distant scent of gunpowder. The last thing I think about before finally nodding off is the feeling of his thumb brushing up and down along my back, letting me know everything is going to be alright.

Edit+A/N: I have never received this much attention on a story before so thank you!! When I have time should I write more for Ghost?

Fic based on this concept:

[reidswhre]

A vague request for Spencer x reader!! (only if you want too, obviously.) Maybe some hurt/comfort?? I'm such a sucker for those.

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you keep your nightmares and insomnia to yourself till you reach a point where you can’t handle it anymore, it’s great your boyfriend is there for ya.

warnings: nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, low self-esteem due to the lack of sleep, however, it’s hurt and comfort! 🫶🏼

a/n: it's a bit rushed but I'm a little inspired so I did it before my inspiration disappeared, i hope you like it. also english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes. as always my request are open feel free to send me yours!

Sleeping is supposed to be something pleasant. It usually reduces stress and improves your mood. It’s the favorite activity of many people—in fact, it used to be yours too.

Until insomnia and nightmares began. At first, they weren't that bad; they scared you a bit, but nothing more. Then they became terrible, making you feel so awful you wanted to throw up, which led to unstoppable insomnia.

You used to sleep maybe 3 hours a day at most, and it was killing you. Not only were you unbearably tired all day, but you also had a mood so bad that even you couldn’t stand yourself. As a result, you started treating people around you poorly, which made you feel awful, but at this point, it was beyond your control.

You hadn’t told anyone either—you didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily. It wasn’t needed. You were probably just going through a rough patch. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde.

“Hey.” Spencer’s face greeted you when you opened your apartment door to let him in.

“Hi,” you replied with a small smile.

“I really missed you,” he said as he walked into your apartment, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled. “Really? I missed you too,” you said sincerely. “You were gone for a few days.” Spencer’s job often required him to be away, and you handled it pretty well.

“Yeah, the case was tough,” he explained as he placed some bags in your kitchen. “How’ve you been?”

“Me? Well... good, I guess. Nothing new,” you shrugged.

“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows, questioning you.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” You looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

Again, you didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone that you hadn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. There was no point in saying it.

“What’s in the bags?” You pointed at them, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, I read that green tea increases the body's relaxation capacity and helps with sleep. Plus, the amount of L-theanine is higher than caffeine, so it’s a great option to avoid insomnia,” he explained while taking the tea out of the bags.

“You think I need that? Why would you think that?” you said, your mood shifting a bit.

“What? No, I don’t think you need it. I just thought it’d be good to have to relax a bit. Personally, I’m sleeping fine, but I don’t see any harm in drinking it,” he said, looking at you.

“Well, I’m sleeping great too, so I don’t need it, okay?” There it was again. You had no idea why you were treating him this way—he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I never said otherwise,” he said, frowning.

“Good.” You looked at the floor, feeling uncomfortable.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay—”

“I’m perfectly fine,” you interrupted him and walked out of the kitchen.

You entered the bathroom in your room and splashed some water on your face, hoping it would refresh you. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a bit pale, with dark circles under your eyes that you hadn’t had in years, and your lips were dry. You felt terrible—like a completely different person.

But you decided that if you stayed there any longer, Spencer would come looking for you, and you’d have to give explanations you weren’t willing to share.

When you got back to the living room, you saw him sitting on the couch with his cup of tea and another cup next to him that was probably cold by now.

And you felt horrible.

Horrible wasn’t even enough to describe it.

He had bought and made tea just to help you relax a bit, even without knowing that this was the very thing driving you crazy.

And you had responded terribly.

“Spencer, I—” You tried to start.

“I think it’s better if we just go to bed, don’t you? It’s been a long day,” he said, getting up from the couch.

“Uhh... yeah, sure,” you whispered, staring at the floor.

Your heart was racing, sweat was running down your forehead and neck, and your head was spinning as you tried to push away the dreams that had been tormenting you.

“Hey,” you heard a voice in the distance. “Hey, listen to me, love, hey,” the voice repeated in your head.

“Hey!”

You suddenly sat up in bed, completely disoriented.

“Hey, you’re okay, right? You’re here with me,” Spencer said, looking at you while placing his hand on your knee. But you couldn’t really hear him. Your head was ringing so loudly it felt like it was going to explode.

“Sweetheart?” Spencer stroked your cheek, concerned.

Suddenly, you regained a bit of awareness. You looked at him and his worried face, then around the room. The clock read 12:38 AM. Your hands were sweating, and you were cold.

All of a sudden, everything you’d been carrying for weeks collapsed. It just fell apart, and you started crying like you hadn’t in a long time.

“Oh my God,” Spencer whispered as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you tightly.

“I’m so tired,” you sobbed into his neck.

“What’s going on, love? I need you to tell me, okay? So I can help you,” he whispered in your ear, his voice soft.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a few weeks now,” you mumbled against him. “I have insomnia and lots of nightmares. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” he asked, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“I—I don’t know,” you sobbed. “I didn’t want to bother you, and I didn’t want to seem weak, I—” You stumbled over your words.

“Don’t say that. You could never bother me, especially not with something this important. It’s serious, and I don’t think you’re taking it seriously enough,” he said, looking at you with his kind brown eyes, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“I thought I was just having a few bad days, I don’t know—” you tried to explain through your tears.

“It’s okay, we can work through this. Tomorrow, we can see your therapist and check on how you’re doing, alright?” he said, kissing your forehead.

You nodded without saying anything, feeling safe.

“Let’s get that tea, yeah? I’m sure it’ll calm you down a bit—unless you don’t want it now either, hmm?” he teased you a little.

You let out a small laugh. “I want it.”

“Good, because I was going to make you drink it anyway,” he laughed with you.

“Hey!” you frowned.

“Don’t give me that face,” he said, kissing your furrowed brow.

“Thank you,” you said genuinely.

“For what? For making you drink tea?” he laughed.

“No, silly. For helping me, even though I didn’t treat you very well tonight,” you said, looking at the floor.

“Are you kidding? Of course, I’ll help you. It’s the least I can do. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too,” you said, giving him a small kiss on the lips.

You were probably going to sleep well tonight.

[neontokyoo]

(nsfw or not) Halsin (elf form) in heat from bear mating season and dry humps or ferally takes tav? (consented obviously)

Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Genre: smut

Summary: Halsin’s animalistic behavior is too much to bear

Warnings: I’m unable to write rough sex while keeping Halsin in character, rough animalistic sex, this wasn’t proofread because I’m tired and more focused on getting this posted before I forget about it and never do it.

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It was that time of year. Halsin couldn’t stand being around anyone right now. All the different smells in the air were making him fucking crazy. Despite not being an actual bear, the Druid found his bear from becoming a part of him over the past few years. The more time he spends in his bear form, the less control he has over the bear in certain situations. And this was one of those situations.

Running the grove was incredibly hard today. Usually mating season wasn’t a huge pain in his ass. Sure, he was always horny and more sensitive than normal, but usually he was able to handle it on his own. This year, however, was different. Maybe it was because of the new adventurer who had been staying at the grove for a while, while they planned their next move. That sounded about right. Ever since Tav showed up, he’s found it much harder to control the beast within him. He hasn’t been this turned on in over a century.

Halsin let out a frustrated groan as he felt his arousal getting stronger. His cock was rock-hard by now and his pants were painfully tight. How the fuck was he supposed to be in charge here if everyone was looking at him like he just crawled out of hell? Obviously, the tension was visible. In several ways. The way he walked like he had a stick up his ass, the way he was grabbing onto everything when he had to sit down, his grip so tight that his knuckles were changing to a ghostly white color. Everyone could tell something was wrong with him, but nobody said a thing.

It got to the point where his only options were to either talk to Tav about his current situation, or retire to his room for the night and fix it himself. And he found the first option to be too embarrassing. So, the elf went back to his room and began to undo his pants. Gods, just undoing the zipper felt much more comfortable than his cock straining against his pants.

But of course right when he was about to take care of his problem, there was a knock on the door. Halsin groaned out of frustration as he quickly put his pants back on and straightened himself up before opening the door. His body tensed as he saw her waiting on the other side. He wasn’t sure if he could hold back much longer now that she was so close to him.

Tav gave him a concerned look, opening her mouth to speak before he harshly grabbed the girl by her wrist and pinned her to the wall of his room, finally burying his nose in the crook of their neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice even trembling. “I’m sorry, my love… I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

“Halsin, what’s going on?” Tav arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. She wanted to pull away, but her body craved the connection, the intimacy.

Halsin's breathing grew heavier, and he pulled his face from her neck, his eyes flashing green with hunger. "I need you, Tav," he whispered hoarsely, his voice no longer the calm and sweet one she had grown accustomed to. "Please let me have you. I’m sorry, I’m not myself right now.”

Tav hesitated for a moment, her eyes locked with his, before nodding. She bit her lip, the anticipation making her body tremble. Halsin wasted no time as he quickly undid her armor, his fingertips brushing against her dampness. Tav shivered as another small moan escaped her lips. She knew exactly what was happening, and maybe Halsin wasn’t the only one acting like a bitch in heat. Her own arousal betrayed her.

"So wet for me," Halsin breathed, his voice thick with lust. He pulled his hand away, continuing to undress her until she was completely exposed before him, then swiftly unbuckled his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock. Tav's eyes widened at the sight, her arousal intensifying.

Of course, she and Halsin have been flirting back and forth with each other for a while now, occasionally teasing each other and stealing glances. But she never would have thought she’d be able to have him. Nor did she think it would happen like this.

Halsin hoisted Tav onto the table, spreading her legs wide enough to expose her glistening heat. He positioned himself between them, his cock nudging against her entrance. Tav's hands clenched sage green tablecloth, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Halsin…. Please….”

Halsin's eyes flashed with a primal hunger as he took in the sight of Tav's naked body spread out before him on the table. The scent of her arousal filled the air, driving him wild with desire. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a low growl, he thrust his hips forward, burying himself deep inside her tight, wet heat.

"Fuck, Tav," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect."

Tav cried out, her back arching off the table as she was filled completely by Halsin's thick, hard cock. It stretched her walls deliciously, sending sparks of pleasure racing through her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

The new position made the girl let out a loud, pornographic moan as the elf continued to pound into her, hitting her most sensitive areas while also grinding against her clit.

“Halsin…. Fuck-“

Halsin's hands gripped Tav's hips tightly, his body moving in a primal rhythm as he continued to fuck her. His thrusts grew harder and faster, his muscles straining with each powerful movement. Tav's moans grew louder and more desperate, her nails digging into his back.

Tav's words cut off as the elf's lips crashed onto hers, his tongue invading her mouth in a passionate kiss. Halsin's cock throbbed within her, his animalistic hunger for her not abating. He continued to pound into her, their bodies slapping together in a wet, rhythmic symphony.

Usually, Halsin wouldn’t be so rough if it wasn’t for his animalistic desires that were taking over him. There was just something about Tav that made her absolutely intoxicating, making it incredibly hard for Halsin to control himself.

Tav's mind was spinning, the intensity of the moment overwhelming her. She could feel her orgasm building with each thrust, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within her until it was nearly unbearable. She could feel Halsin's own climax approaching as well, his thrusts becoming more frantic, his grunts more desperate.

With a final, powerful thrust, Halsin's body tensed, his cock pulsing deep within her. Wave after wave of his seed filled Tav, the sensation pushing her over the edge. Her own orgasm crashed through her, her inner walls gripping Halsin tightly as she cried out his name.

Halsin's body shuddered as he continued to fill her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Slowly, he pulled out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum as it slipped from her slick walls. Tav lay there, panting, her body trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Halsin leaned down to kiss her forehead, his breathing finally starting to even out. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice soft and gentle once more. "But I needed that."

Tav looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Don't be sorry, Halsin," she whispered, her voice thick with contentment. "I needed it too."

The two of them stayed there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of their passionate encounter. Halsin helped Tav down from the table, wrapping a blanket around her shivering form. They shared a tender kiss, the tension between them dissipating.

[flowershines]

Closer Party Pooper

Summary: Being the 8th member of Enhypen means that you get to spend time with people that actually make you feel special but little does everyone know that during most of those times your on your knees in front of them as you pleasuring them everyday.

Warnings: Smut, drinking, arguing, nicknames, parties, drunk man groping Y/n, dirty talk, (lmk if i missed any)

<previous masterlist next>

Sounds of people talking and music filled the area around you as you felt compressed between fifty to maybe a hundred bodies around you, one foot after the other you led yourself to a hallway that contained a line of people heading towards the bathroom on the opposite side of the door there was a bucket. Two options filled your mind knowing the reason why that bucket is there while both reasons wanted to make you puke causing you to make a disgusted face as you turn around to face a guy with a cup in his hand, “sorry” you told the man as you swiftly moved passed him as you started to walk around the house trying to find your friends. Drunken bodies filled every room you walked into as you inspecting each room carefully you found multiple people tongue tied with one another as couples makeout on the couches, the smell of beer flowed through your body turning around a tall figure who had a crowd of girls swooning at his every move was playing beer pong behind you the whole time you stood there.

“Y/n, come take my spot gonna get another drink.” Walking towards the man you knew from the voice it was Heeseung, usually wherever he went the crowd of girls followed him so seeing the pile of girls surrounding just this one man only meant there was no other man but him. “Is the beer not in front of you not enough?” You asked him sarcastically he fake laughed as he gave you the ping pong ball “Don’t make me lose.” were the last words he said before turning around and heading towards the kitchen as half of the girls followed him while the others waited for him to come back as they finally backed away and took a seat on the furthest couch.

“How does he manage with all these girls up his ass 24/7? I would cry, or punch them either one.” The man across the table laughs at your comment while the guy standing next to him says, “One, you're just sensitive Y/n and two I don't think he minds it.” baffled by the words the man just said you scoffed at his remark “Of course you would say that Jake, you're the most sensitive guy i’ve ever known.” “Can both of you shut up, you're making me lose my focus.” Sunghoon interrupts the both of you as he was looking directly at the cups “I’m sure they are the problem.” The guys at the other end of the table sarcastically comment, making you giggle, “Oh shut up Jay, you're worse at this game than me.” the man put his hand over his chest as he scoffed while whispering the word ‘rude’ to Jake. “When are we going back to the dorms? This party is so boring.” You whined to the men at the table as you bend your knees to drag out your boredom, “Soon, just get a few drinks in you and then you won’t want to leave. That’s what Sunoo did, see.” the man across from you said as he pointed at the man on the couch, sprawled and passed out with a drink in his hand. “Yup, he looks like he’s having a blast.” Sarcasm wasn’t leaving your presence today, “Where’s Won?” Jay looked up at you as he pointed behind you to show the man you were looking for to be playing video games with other people as the whole room was filled with men.

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as your gaze was turned back to the game just to have your attention be taken away from the game to feel someone's hand sneak around your waist “Thanks I can take it from here.” Heeseung said as he went to take your stance you interrupted his actions “Can you actually get me a drink or two, they just said they don’t know how long it is till we leave. I can’t go through this whole night sober if we are staying here longer.” a small laugh left his lips while his head nodded to you as his hand left its previous stance on your waist. “Your drinking?” The man next to you askes as he hands you the ping pong ball, you back up one step and lean forward to look at the cups from a certain angle as you toss the ball it lands in one of the cups displayed the closest to you. The man straight ahead of you cursed under his breath as he picked up the ball out of the cup and started to chug the liquid in it, “This party is honestly so boring, I don’t even know if I want to remember this.” a hand appeared next to you with a drink in it.

“Just let me know when you want a refill.” You nodded as you stepped out of your previous spot and headed towards Jake, “Now you're routing for the opposite team, not cool Y/nie.” Heesung says as he fake pouts the feeling of an arm being wrapped around your shoulder startled you. “Yes she is, it’s just because I'm the best.” The disgusted face returns to your face once again but thankfully it was for a different reason than before, “I wasn’t even here for the whole conversation and I still know Jake is lying, get your disgusting arms off her.” Jungwon says as he walks over to you lifting up Jake’s arm from his long sleeve with his pointer finger and thumb. “Hee where did your entourage go?” Jungwon asked as he walked behind you, hugging your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder giving you a kiss on the neck then returning his gaze to Heeseung.

“Gone.” “Not even the one who never leaves your side.” “Fine I told them to leave me alone, plus that one girl always smells like potato chips anyways.” Shock lit up your face at Heeseungs rude comment about the girl, sure she was just another one of his followers but you never thought he viewed some of them in those certain ways. “Heeseung, that's rude.” You commented, “But it’s true.” Sunghoon says as he dabs up Heeseung. Picking up the cup you slowly take small sips as you continue to watch your friends compete against one another, sip after sip the drink in your hand felt lighter as you looked down into the cup there was nothing left in it. “I’m gonna go get a refill, you stay here.” You tell the man that was just resting his head on you as you walked towards the kitchen with an empty cup in your hand, stopping in front of the drinks about to pick up the drink Heeseung had gotten you before a hand stopped you and pulled your trance towards the figure. It was a tall man who had a bottle of whisky in one arm as the other picked up the drink you were about to grab, “Sorry, were you about to grab that?” he asked as he extended the bottle towards your body.

“Thanks.” You say as you placed your cup on the table and started to fill your cup up to the brim “Geez save some for me.” he remarks as you giggled in response handing him back the bottle as he filled the cup he had as well. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here getting yourself a drink all alone?” The bottle that was in his arm was no longer there but was now being replaced as his hand sneaked around to your ass while the other went to wrap around your waist, “I’m not-” your stuttering easily showed just how scared and nervous you were around this mysterious man. “Baby, don't be shy. Why don’t you come upstairs with me and I can give you a good time?” Disgust started to fill every inch of your body as you tried your hardest to get the drunken man away from you yet your build just wasn’t strong enough to take his, suddenly the presence of his body was soon gone. A hand wrapped around your wrist while the other hand took the cup away from your grasp, it was Heeseung.

“What did I tell you?..” Before you could even think to respond more words started to fall from his lips “I would refill your drink, not you. Me.” he led you back to the table where all the boys were playing the game yet none of them were there “Where did they go?” He picked up the rest of his and the members' things then started walking to the door still holding onto you. “We were about to leave, you were gone so I went out to find you.” Picking your head up you were faced with the car the guys drove you here in, Heeseung opened the door as he let go of your hand and walked to the other side of his car getting into his seat.

“Where were you?” Sunghoon asks as you sit down starting to buckle your seatbelt, before a word can fall out of your mouth Heeseung answers the question for you “She was letting some guy touch up on her, as the guy was basically dry humping her.” his words pissed you off because not even did he lie but he got the whole thing twisted, “No, I went to get a drink. Like I told Jungwon, anyways this guy started touching me and I tried to get him off of me while he was saying some ‘baby let me show you a good time’ type shit. So no, I did not let him willingly touch me, thank you very much.” you say breathless as you finally lean back into the seat. The whole car went singlet for a minute, “Why didn’t you tell me that he was touching you like that and you didn’t consent to anything.” you rolled your eyes “Does holding my wrist and pulling me away saying ‘what did I say about the refill’ ring any bells?” you commented, mimicking him in the worst voice impression ever. “I don’t sound like that and all I was getting across was that you should’ve listened to me about the refills so that way this wouldn't happen.” “Oh yeah my apologies I forgot that Lee Heeseung knows when and where every man is going to be every second, how could i forget? Not to mention he knows when a man is trying to get his dick in my pants as well.”

“Would it kill you to not give me sarcasm just for a minute? I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you.” He bluntly remarks “Yes.” “Yes what?” you looked directly into his eyes “Yes it would kill me.” his breathing started to become more heavy causing him to huff his air out while his body started to fill with anger he usually wasn’t easily triggered like this but he is tipsy not to mention he saw another man on you causing him to be a little jealous as well, you didn’t know that though. Tension filled every corner of the car while the only two voices heard was yours and Heeseung, occasionally the angered words that would fall from one of your lips would stutter or slur from the lack of soberness from the both of you. Not to mention almost all of the guys in the car passed out from being drunk or they are just listening to you both bitch and moan about why he was right or why you were right, “God you guys are annoying, you're giving me a headache.” Sunoo says as he rubs his temple “Yeah, cut it out.” Jake said as he turned from his previous sleeping state you listened to them and shut up, normally if it was Jake just saying it alone then you wouldn’t but hearing Sunoo say it just shut you up immediately, you have a soft spot for him.

Feeling the car come to a stop as the driver put it in park you immediately opened your door and headed straight towards your room knowing that Heeseung wasn’t done with the conversation yet, footsteps trailed behind you as you walked into the dorms. You could hear him calling your name but you ignored him not wanting to annoy the members more than you already have with both of your bickering, opening your bedroom door you shut it behind you walking straight towards your bed as you hear the sound of your door open. “Why are you such a brat?” Flopping down on your bed you lay deeper into your pillow as your face is being engulfed by the softness of it, “Leave me alone.” you muffled into the pillow but surprisingly he heard you. “No, not till we finish this.” Picking your head up from the pillow you looked at his figure as he stood in front of your bed, “Finish what? This isn’t a game, there is nothing to finish. Go to bed Heeseung.” the feeling of a dent in your bed made you realize that he sat down while you sat up facing him.

Great now he’s never gonna leave. “Y/n I'm being serious I-” You cut him off as you placed your lips on his, bringing him into a quick kiss as seconds reality hit you causing your lips to slowly start to leave his, silence was heard for a moment “See silent, good talk. Goodnight.” you tell him as you lay on your stomach enjoying the soft warmth of your pillow once more till his words brought you out of your trance. “You can’t just do that.” “Well I did, goodnight.” you muffled into your pillow “Can you hand me my blanket?” asking him as he was sitting on the edge of it resulting in him shaking his head “Why did you do that?” a groan left your lips.

You thought the kiss would help him shut up but what is it going to take for this man to go to bed “You talk too much.” he rolled his eyes “And you don’t talk enough.” picking your head up from the pillow you spun your head to the side “What is it going to take for you to shut up and go to bed?” His eyes met yours as he studied them just before he leaned in, placing his lips on yours once more but this time it wasn’t just a half assed kiss to get him to shut up, there was something more behind the kiss. His hands ran to the back of your head as his fingers tangled into your hair as desperation started to fill every inch of his body, the only thing he was questioning in the moment was if this was happening because you both had something to drink or if he really felt a certain way towards you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you hopelessly needed to feel more of him, he was the only thing that was running through your mind the moment he wrapped his hand around your waist at the party.

Hunger started to fill the air as the kiss deepened into his hands running along every inch of your body, his hands rested on your inner thighs slightly rubbing them just before he brought both of his hands to your hips and pulled you onto his lap while his hands gripped your hips like his life depended on it. “You done acting like a brat?” He mumbled against your lip as he immediately returned back to your lips giving you no time to answer his question, but little did he know it wasn't going to be as easy as he thinks. Trying to pull away from the kiss you were only met by him pulling you even more closer till your hips started to move causing his reaction time to be delayed, pulling away from the kiss you finally replied to his question “What if I said I wasn't done acting like one?” a smirk crawled from one side of his face to the other. “Guess I’d have to make you behave then, right?”

“Good Luck.” His smirk faded as his bottom lip landed in between his teeth “Don’t need your luck.” he pushed your shoulders into the mattress below you as he filled the empty space between you two, placing his lips immediately back onto yours his hands traveled around your body while your fingers went to his shirt pulling it off of his body as he still was fixated on your body. You knew that the more his skin was showing the more vulnerable he would become giving you the hand in dominance, which would allow you to be a brat to him and leave him high and dry. You weren’t planning on doing that because genuinely you wanted him to fuck the pettiness out of you, like he has always said he would. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts the feeling of a hard piece of fabric rubbing up against your clothed cunt resulted in you looking up at the man above you then trailing your eyes down his body as his cock was threatening to be freed from his pants.

Bringing your eyes back to meet his “You gonna continue being a brat or are you gonna help?” his words started to fill with lust the moment his dick rubbed up against you, “You know being a brat sound really nice, but I just wanna get myself off so do me a favor and get off of me so I can ride you since you are clearly not going to do anything.” your words took him aback. “Being a bit selfish don’t you think?” you shook your head “I get myself off and you...” you grabbed his hand and showed it to him “…have something to help you later how nice is that.” “You suggesting that you ride me, make yourself cum while I jerk off.” you pushed him up and off of you while sitting up straight next to him “Seems pretty crystal clear to me.” his head slightly shook as his eyes rolled “I have an idea.” your gaze met his as he continues to talk. “You ride me and the first one to cum had to watch the other fuck someone who can make them cum.”

Your eyes as he didn’t even know how much excitement was running through your body while adrenaline was pumping through your veins, “Let’s go I don’t got all day.” you say getting up from your position holding onto his holders as he scooted to the pillows for elevation when you ride him. Your hands started to take off your shirt off while your attention turned to him as he sat there looking at you blankly, “Need me to undress you too? or do you got it?” you asked in a baby voice he gave you a disgusted look from your sarcasm as he started to unbuckle his belt. “Are you still gonna be bratty after i we fuck?” “Depends how good we fuck.” you shrugged while he finished taking off his pants along with you taking off yours. You got on top of his lap leaning forward getting closer to him as you placed a kiss on his lips just before you started to grind down onto his hardened cock causing a groan to fall from his lips, “I barely did anything and your already moaning.” he sighed “Just wait you will be cumming on my cock in less than 10 minutes.” you rolled your eyes and scoffed as you brought your hand down towards his boxers as you toyed with the waistband, waiting till he was desperate enough to continue.

It was fun to tease Heeseung and he always made it so easy, his cock was twitching against his boxers as pre cum started to leak out of them. It was almost too easy. You pulled his boxers down past his knees as you took his aching cock and placed it in your hand as you slowly started to stroke it causing multiple noises to be heard from the man under you, bringing your hand to your mouth you let spit fall from your mouth and onto your hand while you placed the hand back on his cock giving it more lube making it easier for him to slide in. Pulling your panties to one side you brought his tip closer and closer to your aching heat, the air in your room was filled with tension and warmth. Slowly starting to sink down onto his cock you just realized how hard this little challenge he gave you was going to be, but that wasn’t going to stop you from winning.

Groans and whines left his lips as you bottomed out on him his hips were about to thrust up into you multiple times but he stopped himself as he didn’t want to give in to his desperate needs, your hips gained the strength to start moving as you started to find a steady pace to keep. His cock would twitch inside of you which would have you feeling like cummjng each time he did it because it would hit the perfect spots when you did, you started to wonder if he started to do it on purpose. It gave you the idea to start clenching around him. “Fuck.. Y/n don’t do that.” He said breathlessly “Why?” he remained silent not wanting to tell you ‘it felt to good’ or ‘because i’m gonna cum if you don’t stop’ you knew he was going to cave in before you. Clenching around him more resulted on his hands on your waist as he thrusted up into you as he kept your hips in the air he pulled out and came onto his stomach. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Swears consistently left his lips with every stroke “What happened to you being confident?” finishing his last stroke he looks back up at you “Y/n pleas-” “Wait what about the thing you get to watch me fuck someone else.” his expression changed from relaxed to tense and jealous “No, it was a jok-” “You said Heeseung, i’ll be back.” he got up from his previous spit laying down as pulled his sweatpants on as he watched you put on one of your robes. “Where are you going?” you turned towards him “Going to find Jay, so he can fuck me while you watch.”

tags list:

@luvyev @honestimage @siria000023 @tooshyshaa @heeseungshim @juliesblogs @wonpoem @weyukinluv @cha0thicpisces @jungwonloveer @zouzie008 @wooziswife @jwonistic @wonniesdoll @wonki-luv @en-gene2 @deobitifull @cupidhee @namdeyuoi @hanienie @gfjydhufvh @nyfwyeonjun @sangzhi4 @peonywon @caravm @heeseungsbabyy

if your tag is in white i couldn’t find ur blog

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

Okay, nobody does this because they want to be friends.

It smells like new carpet in here. Eddie looks around his new bedroom, all his stuff is there. It’s all neat, orderly. There are curtains hung, the bed is made with new sheets, his books are on the shelf and salvaged records all neat. Even his sweetheart is hung on a shiny new mount on the wall.

“Steve would, he’s a really good guy.”

Billy doesn’t answer, but Eddie can feel the look he has on his face. Well. If Billy had a face at the moment – well. It’s kind of complicated.

Eddie sets out his meds in a neat line on the dresser – only a few more days to go and he’ll be free of those too. He can hear Steve rattling around in the kitchen and heads down the hall to check on him. He’s putting something in the oven, “it’s jut a casserole thing, but there’ll be enough left over for Wayne and I figured you’d probably want to eat and get some rest?”

“Yeah, sounds...really good. Thanks, Steve. I really like, appreciate you doing all this, my room, bringing my stuff, visiting, the ride from the hospital, you know, all of it. I just...had to say it, it means a lot, you know.”

Steve smiles at him, twisting the towel he’s holding into a long rope, “I...it’s no problem.”

You’re doing that thing again. The staring at each other thing again.

No we’re not.

You literally are – and by the way he just looked at your mouth.

Eddie huffs a laugh, can’t help it really, and Steve does the same and looks away and...okay. Steve is blushing. Even Eddie can see that.

“Stay for dinner?”

“I made it for you and Wayne -”

Eddie shrugs, “there’ll be enough, maybe we can add something to it?”

“Okay I’ll – yeah. I’ll see if there’s anything in the-”

“I can help-”

“You should sit, you should be resting-”

This is painful.

“You’re a guest.”

“Eddie,” Steve stands with his hands on his hips, Eddie raises his hands in surrender, but goes to sit at the table so he can still see Steve.

“So...you watched the game with Wayne?”

“Oh, yeah, it was pretty good.”

Ask him how it went and I guarantee you I can get him to kiss you by bed time.

Eddie feels his face flame, knows he’s flushed red, tries to hide it behind his hair as he nearly chokes on his own spit.

“Here, man, don’t die,” and Steve puts a glass of water on the table in front of him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he does.

Don’t say shit like that.

In his head, Billy is laughing hysterically.

You really think he likes me?

Yeah man, I really think he likes you. You are gay though, right?

Uhm. Yeah.

Well you don’t sound so sure there.

Well I’ve never, you know.

Man I am literally the ghost of a dead dude living in your head, who the fuck am I going to tell?

In the kitchen, Steve starts humming as he peels potatoes.

I’ve never done anything, with anyone. Ever. So pretty sure I am but I’ve never, you know, tested it.

Huh.

Limited options, you know? Also, not exactly the most desirable, you know, reputation, I guess.

Doesn’t seem to be putting Harrington off.

What about you?

What about me?

Well, I mean, say, hypothetically, I kiss a dude...we are kind of cohabiting here, would that...bother you?

Aw, sweetheart, cute of you to ask...Nah, I swing either way. Eddie nearly chokes on his water, and Billy laughs. I mean, not been with a dude since I left Cali, you’re damn right about the limited options thing. But yeah, I’m not fussy, getting off is getting off, and I figure if I can taste your food and feel it when you scratch your ass...Besides, we’re walking around in your body, no ones calling me a faggot, I’m dead.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Sorry, what?”

In the kitchen, Steve is putting potatoes on to boil, Eddie clears his throat, “I said, so tell me about that Pacers game you watched with Wayne?”

Steve smiles, big and bright, “you really want to know?”

Say you could listen to him all day.

“Yeah, if it’s you talking I could...I could listen all day.”

Steve smiles, then sort of looks away and fiddles with his hair before he comes over to the table. If anything Eddie would say he looks suddenly shy.

Bingo.

“Well, they beat the Celtics a couple of days ago, a hundred and sixteen to a hundred and nine, so they were fresh off a fair win and it showed. Absolutely smashed the Nets, a hundred and twenty three to ninety nine. Fleming and Stipanovich both made really decent showings…”

Part Six

[webslingingslasher]

ughhhh peter always being so oblivious. can’t even listen to his girlfriend when she’s right in front of him, practically begging him 😡 loved your most recent story 🩷🩷 (still can’t believe there’s finally a pink heart emoji)

was this supposed to be angsty? too bad, it's smutty.

*suggestive behavior and words, no real depictions of sex, sorry kiddos.

‘How do you tell someone you want them?’ No, no, wait… ‘How do you tell your boyfriend you want him?’ 

Wiki-how says to flirt with them, been there done that, message not received. 

Teen Vogue just wants to give you ways to say ‘I love you,’ you’ve tried that too, you just get a declaration back. 

Cosmopolitan says to be bold, ‘I want you inside of me,’ is a direct quote. Bold, sure. But with Peter? You’d think he’d collapse. 

On Quora someone took the bullet, ‘how do I let my boyfriend know I want him to touch me?’ Ah, there it was, someone had to have a good answer. A man in his forties says dirty talk, your nose wrinkles. A young mom says, ‘just like that!’ An anonymous reply said to initiate fist, touch them where you want to be touched, but you can’t exactly squeeze Peter’s boobs. 

You wonder if you told Ned he’d tell Peter, you can imagine that conversation. 

‘Bro, Y/N just told me she wants you to like… use her body as a wonderland.” 

“A what?” 

Yeah, not a good idea either. 

Even with a boyfriend, a super hot, charming, smart boyfriend, you were going to die a virgin. 

Every attempt has fallen short, no matter how close you think you are from him finally getting the hint. Last week you had him between your legs, wrapped tight around his hips as you grinded up towards him, mouths refusing to break. And then, right when he finally, finally, moved his hips with yours and you moaned he pulled away and rolled off of you. That quick too, talk about a cold shower. 

“Do you want me to show you how to do that thing now?” He was panting still, he looked over you flushed out and almost pulled himself back in, too dangerous, he had to use self control. Peter uses what strength he had to get off the bed, he’s already going to his computer, you didn’t get a choice, he chose for you, if he had asked you would’ve asked to ride his thigh. 

“I’d rather you show me what your hands could do,” you mumble under your breath, you want to scream into his pillow and then hump it, does he not feel how frustrated you are? Peter hears you, he gives a chuckle, “they can help you is what, come watch,” he pats his arm rest on the chair. 

You follow his instructions, still grumpy. “I’d rather they help me in a different way,” Peter flashes you a nervous smile, you make him lose his grip on reality. He makes sure you're watching as he clicks around, he’s giving you instruction but all you can think about is his hard thigh underneath you, his grip is tight around your waist, his palm that rests over your shirt radiates heat to the skin underneath. He’s driving you crazy. 

You can’t help it anymore, you have to be blunt, it will be awkward for a second but so, so worth it in the end. “Peter, I want to-” A squeeze, an apology when his phone rings. Only three people call him, Ned, May and you, seeing as you’re on his lap that leaves two options. 

“Hey, May. Oh yeah, no I don’t think so. Um, sure. Well, he didn’t say much but he did want, no, go ahead.” You look at the ceiling and curse, Peter’s thumb brushes your hip, he’s giving teasing touches and doesn’t even know it. “I dunno, hold on let me ask,” he pulls the phone from his ear, “baby?” You look at him, “staying for dinner?” You nod, he grins, “yeah she will… okay, yes ma’am, no problem. Okay, okay, okay, alright, okay, love you too, bye.” 

“Is she at the store?” 

“Yeah, think of anything you need?” 

He clicks at the screen, “yeah, condoms.” 

You jolt at his laugh, his chest pressed tight against your back, Peter snorts, “why would you need those?” 

You stay silent and instead look at the screen and wait for him to continue his lesson, the bubble of want simmering.

—-------------------------------------

“Are you okay?” 

Peter has to literally hold you back by your shoulders, he’s gasping for air, his curls frizzy and pulled around, his shirt unbuttoned three down from the top. You attacked him the second you got into his room, nearly throwing him onto the bed before straddling him and marking your territory. 

You had been at it for a half hour, everytime he tried to stop you’d follow his movements and continue, he had no idea how you were keeping your breath. The only time he remembers you pulling away was to tug your shirt over your head before you immediately unbuttoned his collar and kissed down his neck. 

“‘M great, are you?” you’re just as breathless as him. 

He nods, “‘M good.” 

You smile, “great!” Then go to meet his mouth, Peter turns his head at the last second, you connect with his jaw, you frown but accept any skin, you trail sideways and down, sucking at a spot near his collarbone. One hand grips your hip, one settles on your ribcage. He grunts and you skim your lips back to his mouth, he’s slower this time, like he’s trying to edge you down carefully, you don’t accept the change of rules and open into his mouth, he wont talk the bait. 

You try again, you swipe at his bottom lip, he stays closed. Frustrated you grind down on him, he buckles but refuses to open his own mouth, last resort you bite down on his lip. 

Peter pushes you off, “fuck, you’re insatiable.” 

You look down on him, “why won’t you make out with me?” 

His cheeks are pink, his lips are red and swollen, his pupils are blown out. 

“You’re killin me, smalls.” Peter’s hands come to a rest on his stomach, they rise and fall with his breaths, “no matter what I do you want more.” 

You nod enthusiastically, he’s starting to understand. 

“Yes, so yes. What can you give me?” 

His eyebrows furrow, he doesn’t know what you want. 

“I don’t… what do you want?” 

You grind down on his belt line, his hands shoot to your hips, this was new territory. You’ve just started to grind on him the past week and he still can’t fully process it, he’s never had a feeling like it before and he knows that he’s gonna get a hard on if you keep doing that, and that’s really new territory. 

“Baby,” he groans the word but it’s a warning. 

“This, can I have this?” You try to move again but his hold stops you, he’s using too much strength. 

Peter doesn’t want to rush you, not at all. But these last few weeks have been hard, you’ve been much more open with your words and touches and god it kills him. He’s been thinking about sex, how could he not with you all over him, but he needs to hold out strength for the both of you, and god damn if you don’t make that difficult. 

“If you keep doing that do you know what will happen?” 

Are you okay with this, is what he means, because if you go down this path there’s no coming back, it’s a whole new step, he’s okay with that but are you? 

You tilt your head at him, “I’ll cum?” 

Peter exhales through his nose harshly, his voice pinchy, “jesus christ.” 

“Is it okay if I take my bra off?” Your fingers were already behind your back, he’s been lucky enough to see them a few times but not in a situation like this one where he could get to inspect them and enjoy it. “If you want, but you don’t-” he stops speaking when you toss your bra to the ground. 

“Wanna take your pants off?” 

He looks at you, he’s fully clothed almost while you’re now sitting on top of him with only panties on, how did he get here? No pants means no more barriers, you wanted to feel him, all of him, when you dry humped him. 

“Do you want my pants off?” 

How does he not get it? You’re more than half naked on his lap begging for his touch, what did he think you wanted, a milkshake? 

“Peter, where’s your mind at?” 

“With what?” 

You rub your eyes, frustration would do no good here. “I need to know where you’re at with this, cause i’ve tried everything to make it known you make me really fucking horny.” His eyes widened, it was like he had a revelation of ‘girls can be horny too?’ and yeah, he did know that they could but he never imagined he could make someone horny, even if it was his girlfriend. And maybe he did understand a little of what you wanted but he also thought you were joking, that you were hinting at a hookup teasingly but, no you were serious. 

“I do?” 

Well that didn’t sound good, did he not share the same feelings? 

“I… Peter, do I even turn you on?”

The room spins, you’re on your back in a second, Peter holds your forearms to the bed. You couldn’t even take a breath in, that’s how quick he pinned you. He didn’t want you to think, for even a second, you didn’t turn him on. 

“Don’t ever ask that again, you turn me on more than you could even begin to imagine.” 

You giggle, “oh, do I? How much?” 

He kisses your cheek, “cold shower every time you leave.” 

“Then how come I never feel you get hard?” 

Peter takes his turn kissing down your neck, he nibbles a matching mark to his on your collarbone. “Threw you off before you could.” 

You hum when he nuzzles into your neck, he places a kiss to your cheek, you look at him over you. 

“Does that mean you’ll take off your pants?” 

He laughs, “yeah, baby. I’ll take off my pants.” 

Peter sits back to pull his shirt off, you take a moment to appreciate his body. You always feel like you don’t compliment him enough, “you’re pretty,” the words fall from your lips and he grins shyly, his hands working at pants button, he’s about to shimmy them off but you stop him. 

“Wait!” 

Peter’s hands freeze, you nod at his hands, “can I do it?” 

His hands fall away and you reach forward, tension thick the second you start to undress him. You never knew how heavy a moment could be until you had your hands in your boyfriend's waistline tugging them down, knowing it was so you could sit pretty on top of him and rock on his lap. 

You rope a leg over his waist and take mount, already pressing into him further than you’ve ever been, you give a teasing roll of your hips, your eyes shoot open and Peter throws his head back with a groan. 

You whisper at the same time, minds blown. “Woah.” 

[slvttyplum]

im having suguru brain rot

didn’t edit this so idk.

suguru walks in the kitchen where you’re popping grapes in your mouth scrolling on your phone.

“yo.” he says as he slides in front of you opening the fridge.

his hair is all messy and his wife beater was cropped showing his v-line and happy trail, your eyes subconsciously sliding all around his body.

the slam of the fridge startling you, you snap out of it.

“suguru whats your major again?” you blurt out. the truth was, you needed him. you didn’t care what conversation was needed you just wanted to hear that—

“psychology.” he deadpans, sliding past you again walking towards the pantry. your eyes follow his tall figure, his back muscles pushing out the shirt, and the wall those black sweats fit around his small waist.

sexy voice. sexy mind. sexy body. sexy major.

you could never really catch a glimpse of his face since both of you have two different schedules, when both of you were home he would stay cooped up in his room.

that didn’t bother you much since it did make you a little uneasy to have a male roommate in the first place, you hated to admit it but you were shallow, that man was fine.

so him being a guy living with you wasn’t a bother.

you slipped another grape into your mouth thinking to yourself, what’s something else you could ask him or talk about, this was your only chance, he rarely spoke to you.

“breaks coming up, are you going back home?” you ask, your voice cracking.

you mentally curse yourself, that wasn’t a good one but you gotta do what you gotta do.

he turns his head looking at you, his dark eyes looking you straight in the eye and his eyebrow and lip piercing shining from the light.

damn he’s fine.

he turns his head back to the pantry then closes it, he wasn’t feeling any of the good options today, maybe he could…

he folds his arms against himself leaning his butt against the counter near the pantry.

“unfortunately no, i have way too much to do here and i don’t live close so.” he says, playing with the piercing on his lip.

your eyes light up, this was fate, it had to be. you would make it your life goal to make sure you guys talk everyday.

“awe bummer, i’m not going home either, i don’t feel like flying.” you say tucking your hand in the waistband of your pants trying to warm it up.

suguru scans your figure and looks back at your face, his dick jumping.

“maybe we could hang out.” he says leaning off the counter.

your eyes almost fall off hearing this, this was all working in YOUR favor. oh universe what did i do to deserve such kindness you think to yourself.

a grin forming on your lips but you quickly wipe it off, “yeah i would love that.”

he smiles, his smiley piercing shining. god please.

“good, i’m a little hungry can you do something for me?” he asks leaning on his side only a few inches away from you.

your ears start ringing with anticipation, were you a genius or were you a genius. he’s going to ask you on a date, this was your time.

“can you lay across that table, i want to eat.” your jaw drops and the grape that was in the hand drops.

what?

“sorry, huh?”

he’s smirking and his hands drop down walking towards you, almost nothing helping the distance.

“sorry if that came off too blunt, it’s just… you look good and im starving here.”

your throat is closing by the second, your pupils forming in the shape of a heart, if he was saying what you thought he was then…

“fuck!!” you yelp out. suguru grabs your hand placing it on top of his head, telling you to grab.

he tongue swirling all around you, spit mixed with your liquids dripping off his chin.

his eyes glued to your pussy, his hands gripped around you.

his tongue piercing gliding over your clit every second, your body shivers from the cold touch every-time.

your hands sliding and grabbing his hair, where did he learn this oh my—

“god! right there!”

his eyes are rolling as his hands grip your thighs with force, his nails digging into you.

saliva was foaming inside your mouth, dripping off the side. the knot deep inside your stomach was tightening, and you felt like you were dying.

his tongue sliding from deep inside you to sucking your clit, the pattern and rhythm stopping your climax.

you tug on his hair, “keep sucking.” his eyes shoot up to you, smirking. he takes one of his hands off your thigh, sliding it under him and right into your pussy.

your breath hitches and a sharp feeling explodes in your stomach, back arching, your liquids leaking.

you flop back on the table, your head spinning.

suguru gets up licking his lips. “i’ll be back tonight, maybe we can do this again.”

your head shoots up and the heart shapes still in your eyes and the ringing in your ear was still there.

“yeah yeah for sure.” you say wiping off the drool.

he smiles at you and walks back to his room, you slide off the table clearing your throat.

for sure…

[wroteclassicaly]

Girl. Gator. Plus size girl. Blurb. Go!

Lol. I just love the way you utilize details and I need this mans hands on me in the worst way rn. Lol. MAYBE somewhere where we could get caught😈

Oooooh, you’re speaking right to my soul 😭

~*~

Warnings: Language, smut, Gator acts like his jerky, bitchy, temper tantrum throwing, misogynistic, toxic self. Body positive, plus size reader with large breasts, hidden hookups, spit, some titty play, vaginal fingering, jealous and possessive Gator, slightly mean reader, degrading kink, praise kink mention, filthy talk, mean Gator, dominant reader/dominant Gator, public smut, getting caught, and NSFW.

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus Size Female Reader

Wordcount: 2,043

A/N: Really love working on exploring Gator with a bigger girlie, because in the Midwest, his options would’ve been a lot of big women. Sooooo, yeah. ;) Note that this is not some fluffy Gator. Man is gonna be mean and nasty as hell, so be warned (he’s cornered with his feelings and he doesn’t like that shit)!

~*~

He really cannot fucking believe this. You actually have the nerve to show up where you know that he will be, dressed like this, acting as if you didn’t want him to call you the second that you got back into town (Because WHEN the fuck did you get back? And why didn’t you call him?). A calloused trigger finger massaged off leftover condensation, nothing but mere drops of amber liquid left over in his glass. He feels like a snarling, raging beast, a fucking embarrassment.

And you simply tuck your handbag into your armpit, situating the end of a very tight black dress, one that slices into a cutoff at your cleavage, the swells of your goods leaving little to the imagination. Stupid bitch. Those are his tits. Besides, since when do you care about what you wear out when you rarely come to bars or club joints around town, anyways…? Your makeup is dark, like wafts of smoke, shimmering on your lid, lips lined a deep blood red, something else you never do around him, either.

Okay, so he’s not good enough to try all of your tricks on?

He’s got that familiar clench starting in his toes, licking his muscles with electricity, pushing on his ribcage, digging painfully into his internal organs to do something. You wave at a couple of local girls, but you don’t join them at a table, no. You head directly to some punk faced fuck in tight jeans and cowboy boots, a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other. Gator’s eyes widen so hard that the muscles protest in stroking stings, his fist clenching over his thigh, knuckles white, taunt flesh wrapped shakily around his glass. He lets it go before it shatters.

A date. A fucking, motherfucking date.

You couldn’t call him, didn’t text him (embarrassing how much he refreshed your thread, honestly), but you bitch about secrecy. And this is what he gets for staying sober from the pussy he could be getting? Nah, he’s not gonna be shown up by some slut that should be grateful he gives her attention at all, and definitely not with this fucking pencil dick of a man, whose joke you’re pathetically giggling at. Abandoning his glass, Gator is walking his way on a sticky bar floor, passing your backside to slam his hands on your table and let out a hysterical chuckle.

“Well, bust my balls. What’s so funny over here, huh?”

Gator takes a mental backflip for points as your eyes widen and you look like you’ve dove into the pools of humiliation. Your date, for lack of better word - he’s trying to figure out what’s going on, but Gator doesn’t let him get in a word. Crowding in front of his space, he’s in your airspace now, reaching down to find your date’s drink, lips wrapping at the bottle’s end as he sips and lets out a snort. “Lightweight.”

“Gator…” You warn, reaching out to attempt to grab his wrist. He shrugs you off, shaking his head as he eyes your ensemble, those fucking tits pressed together and spilling over your cleavage’s hem.

“Look at you, honey. All dressed up, not answering your phone. How long you been back for?”

“I’m busy, back the fuck off —“ He’s suddenly very close to you now, nose nearly brushing, actually letting his personal rules slip, your own emotions becoming discombobulated.

You don’t back away, breathing escalating as his hot breath fans along your painted mouth. He’d like to shut that up, keep you full. And you, you cannot keep your eyes off of his tight black shirt, arms bare and tan from the Midwest summer sun — freckles and moles on display. He’s wearing dark jeans, his normal boots, and thigh holster for show. Fuck, he smells good. He knows it too, as he watches your eyes dart across his wet lips.

He simply smirks, reaches down for your drink this time, and brings it to his lips. Straight whiskey. You were here for a purpose, and it’s up to him to redirect it. You watch in wondrous fascination when he drinks down your remaining liquor in a straight shot, his tongue making a show to lick the rim along the glass, before he lets it settle back onto the cheap bar table coaster. He’s taking that air about, every single inch of him away from you before you can blink, one hand rubbing behind his neck, pulling on his chain that’s tucked beneath his collar, knowing the action specifically drives you crazy, the other hand retrieving his vape.

He blows smoke directly above his head, looking between you and Mr. Clueless Cowboy, laughing lightly. He’s pissing you off. “Hope you folks intend to call a car tonight. I’d hate to have to arrest anyone for driving under the influence.”

And he’s gone. Leaving you practically smoking, aching, hurt, and severely pissed. You grab your purse and excuse yourself to the restroom to get your bearings. You should’ve known, however, the second that the door closes behind you — Gator would be too. He doesn’t approach too fast, doesn’t scare you or grab you, he has his own lines not to cross, to respect.

You’re clenching the sink by the time he’s nearly behind you. You’re tired, pent up, but you still manage to speak. “Don’t. I’m getting sick of you and your games.”

“Is that why you didn’t answer me? Think that’s polite —“

You spin around and level your palms to his chest, shoving him back, hard. “You know, I’m the one that should be embarrassed. Your fucking dad, you being his lackey. I should be the one to be afraid to be seen with you, but I’m not.”

Gator perks at the mention of Roy, of his debt towards him just by being born under his namesake. He feels cornered, losing control. “Watch your mouth. I’m not afraid of anything —“

As if you are ignoring his words, you continue. “I want a real man, not some pussy who is afraid to be seen in public with me. You’re a fucking coward, Tillman. You don’t deserve one single inch of me, and I’ve got plenty to go around, baby.”

Now, Gator can lie and say he is further pissed, that he intends to leave and forget you. But your words, how you stand up to him — his cock kicks, slacks becoming less loose. You’ve got the power and you’re more than ready to use it. Leaving your purse in the sink behind you, you stand a few inches from his airspace, your perfume soaking into his senses, making his jaw unhinged with sinful babble. “I bet you’re fuckin’ wet right now.”

You shrug, crossing your arms to purposely accentuate your chest. “Just because I like looking at you, doesn’t mean that I like listening to your mouth run. Pompous, annoying, disgustingly pathetic. And I can’t stand you.”

His brows press together, his pupils blown so far to hell that he’s seething when the words leave his clenched teeth. “One more word, bitch…”

You lick your mouth and smile lowly, tongue practically caressing the words as they drop off. “Fuck. You.”

What happens next is a dizzying array of blurs. The open pipes and exposed beams - clad ceiling passes in your vision as you meet Gator into a chest crushing embrace, pulling when he pushes, the both of you falling onto a stall with your mouths locked. You’re already working your hands into his belt, a grip hard to maintain with how worked up he is. Gator knows just what to do with you, his own hands immediately ripping the fabric of your dress down to expose your perfect breasts. His mouth waters, his hands paused.

He gives you a look, but you’ve already got his hands closing around your tits, encouraging him to squeeze. His knees knock you into the toilet, his mouth smeared with red kisses. His jaw clenches, nose wrinkles, his eyes glazed over as he lets them roam you, palming you, sampling you. You’re his. He needs more, though, his body rampaged, starved for more you.

You can read those thoughts immediately, the same want, a silent communication. “Put your mouth on me.”

He doesn’t waste a second, head tilting, letting you tug it into shambled strands, his lips close over your bud, tongue lapping around your areola, only to give you what you after you start to beg him for teasing. He isn’t phased that you aren’t jerking him, all that he wants right now is get you off, be with you, be around you. He tries to ignore what that realization means, and luckily, you’re rucking your own dress around your waist, his orbs catching a slinky thong as you work it down your curved hips. He briefly stops what he’s doing, groaning in appreciation as your glistening curls are put on display and your beautiful stomach, with stretch marks that his tongue has traced not enough times yet. He’ll have to fix that.

You’re a little quieter after you’re so naked in front of you, despite having been before. He notices this and abandons his focus on your chest to grab you around the waist. His voice is hoarse, exploding into a molten rasp, coated in the warmth of tension, a vulnerability leaving as he pinches your chin to raise your gaze. “You’re too beautiful for him. Too beautiful for me.”

Your reluctance to accept any compliments, especially his, that is automatically clear when you make your statement. “You could’ve gotten plenty pussy with me gone, Gator.”

He’s never felt more like a piece of shit than in this moment, watching as you truly believe that. He inhales sharply, throat tied to it, escaping words evaporating off his tongue’s tip, shared with you. “I missed you,” It’s actually a freeing statement, one that he feels braver saying, continuing. “And I didn’t screw around on you, y’ know.”

You’re looking at him as if you’re made of glass, irises darting back and forth. He can’t decipher his anticipations, but you save him. “I missed you too. But I had to draw a line, Gator…”

“I know.” He’s resolved to it.

He’s ready to back off, praying it’s not too late. You grasp his wrist, lifting it directly beneath your mouth, and he’s sure he blurts a little in his boxers the moment that your spit settles into his palm. He’s cursing, panting, rocking onto his heels as you lead him between your legs, spreading them, separating two of his fingers, taking them into your warm cunt. His hand tightens on your overflowing waist, fingers instinctively beginning to fuck you, enjoying the devious squelch that echoes. You become more handsy as the minutes pass, eagerly seeking out his chain from his collar to hold onto, rocking against his wrist, bouncing yourself on his fingers — taking what you want.

Gator assists by leaning to lick your nipple into his mouth, letting you hold tightly to his hair, suffocated by your moans and the scent of you. Neither of you hear your date enter the bathroom, not until he’s by the stall and speaking. He doesn’t get the hint, maybe he’ll go away? You don’t want to stop and reject the idea of Gator taking his hand away, leaving his hair, and holding onto his wrist tighter. You give zero fucks if he can hear what you’re doing in here, but he probably thinks Gator makes fun of you —

Your insecurities are tangled into a trap the second that Gator kicks the door open with his boot to give your date an eyeful. Publicly. His eyes widen, posture stiffening, you gasping. Gator adds in a third finger and your legs wobble, making you toss your head back and fuck yourself harder, inner thighs a soaking mess, forgetting everything but the pleasure that you deserve. Your ears are ringing static, a creamy wetness all that can be heard beneath your pleading breaths, uncaring what’s going to happen after, needing to get there NOW.

Gator makes his claim, a lazy little smirk quirking in the corners of his stained mouth. “Be safe on the road, bud.”

[theresstillgrowinghere]

I don’t often find I have much to say during chronic illness awareness months anymore. I’m tired. My words feel tired. I don’t feel like I have anything new to add. Sometimes I worry though that that in part comes from my having been in various digital chronic illness spaces for almost a decade. Of course it feels tired to me. There are things that rattle around my brain that feel so obvious and commonplace (and that have been said much more eloquently by others before me) but may still be worth expressing, just judging by the ways people in my life haven’t been able to understand

So for gastroparesis awareness month this year, there are a few things I want to note from my experiences (tw for food/eating, weight without numbers, medical trauma)

1) My relationship with food is so scarred and multifaceted. It is messy and thorny, conflicting and complicated

(I am scared of food. I miss food. I hate food. I want to eat so badly. I never want to think about eating again. Tell me in detail about how it tasted. I love food. Please don’t ask me to join you for a meal. I don’t want to miss the communal aspects of eating. I feel so disconnected and other and separate just because I don’t eat. Sometimes I do try to eat and it makes me sick. Don’t comment on it, please; it’s not helpful to scold or encourage - I feel shame either way)

2) There is no cure. There is only management. I think people understand this in theory more than actuality, because when I say this I mean please, please stop expecting any management option to be The Thing. Please don’t expect something to offer substantial improvement, even if it is a life-saving dramatic change. As I have tried to explain to people in my life, those types of interventions are often complicated and risky and, in our broken healthcare system, very difficult to access until the situation truly is dire and life-threatening. Which can mean that the body takes significant damage before getting there. Sometimes by the time you access the intervention, that damage is irreversible and the goal is just to stop further decline. It’s not making me better; it’s keeping me from getting worse. For some reason that’s difficult for people to understand

(But sometimes people do find what for them is The Thing or are The Things, and that’s an important piece of the whole picture. The problem is the persistence of unrealistic expectations among people around us)

3) My relationship with healthcare is vital but fraught and heavy. I rely on it tremendously just to stay alive. It is also my only in-person access to the world and to people, which is a weird kind of mindfuck. But I am also deeply afraid of it after so many years of trauma. I am terrified of hospitals and medical professionals. I’m sorry for the way that fear makes me irrational, makes me assume, makes me protect myself. I know so many medical professionals are so caring and kind, but it is very, very hard to go into a medical setting trusting that that will be the case

4) There are some things I wish truly were obvious. Like don’t comment on someone’s weight, ever. Don’t say you wish you could “have a little of that” to change your appearance. Don’t try to convince me to “just try to eat a little.” Trust that I know my body best. Don’t offer me unsolicited advice or recommendations. Don’t say “when you get to be my age…” because I will point out that, based on the amount of damage to my body already, it is very possible I will never reach your age. But more to the point, I am not too young to be this sick. It happens

Anyway, these are my 3am-notes-app, camped-out-on-the-bathroom-floor thoughts. It is also important to note that they exist in the context of my gastroparesis being born of and coexisting with my other chronic illnesses, and they all become so deeply entangled

Wishing everyone well. Hoping your August is kind and gentle

To everyone with gastroparesis (and other digestive disorders, really), I’m sorry your tummy hurts, and no, you actually don’t need to be very brave about it. As I heard someone say recently in a different context but definitely applies here as well, “We weren’t born to be fighters. I don’t want to be brave. I want to be okay.” I just want all of us to be okay

[liasadventuretime]

✦ YOU JEALOUS ?

PT. 2 ↦ i fucking knew it.

neteyam x reader x ao'nung

PROMPT ➜ after that night, you were left with doubts, and everything that was sure, now wasn't. but maybe this night you could get some answers from the one and only.

TAGS ➜ teasing, mentioning of sex, smoking, angst, fighting.

you don’t even remember what exactly happened after... that.

you just remember neteyam’s eyes going absolutely numb, almost glossed with doubt. you hit him where you wanted to. but now you’re not even sure if that was how you wanted to make him feel. it’s incredible how you used to feel that proudness and glory in your chest every time he almost cried because of something you said. were was that feeling now ? was it now buried, the same way that neteyam was buried in your mind ?

you almost felt bad, regretting immediately what you said, but at least hoping he would get angry or say something back to alleviate that feeling of deep guilt you were sensing. you knew that even though he doesn’t show it, he cares. yes, he does actually care about what you say, what you eat, who you hang out with. but how could you be so dumb ? why would he make fun of you and ao’nung if he didn’t give an absolute fuck ? but you don’t get it, is he jealous ? is he worried ?

what are you neteyam, what are you thinking about, since you know every single thought of mine from how deep you’re buried in my mind ? are we feeling the same things ?

every time you thought about the way his hand, that was on the back of your neck, slowly let go of it, almost like he was defeated, not knowing what to think. his hand trailed it’s way down your back, which gave you goosebumps, to your arm and then your hand. you were still confused, looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed, having no idea of what he was going to think or say or do. you just let him, you trusted him enough to do that.

he held your hand for a few seconds, looked at you with eyes that were veiled with tears. but those seconds, lasted years, almost leaving your hand burned from how thick the tension between y’all was. he left, leaving your hand dangling near your hip, and immediately went away. you don’t know where he was going, you didn’t see it. but that string that connected you and him, would tell you later. since you two started being mean and competitive with each other, this weird red string formed. you could have your eyes closed, but as soon as he enters the room...

your bones ignite.

“neteyam’s here”.

you want the one you can’t have, and it’s driving you mad, because it’s always all over your face.

do you even want him ? do you want him or the version of him you created in your mind ? the version that used to play with you, take care of you, make you laugh and cry ? were did all the years go. they just flew in front of your eyes, and the person that cared about the most slowly died, only leaving his moving body and those soulless eyes. maybe you outgrew each other, maybe you didn’t. maybe it’s just an excuse because you couldn’t be together in the first place, even as friends. and the options left were either stranger or enemy.

and you would both rather feel hate, than feel nothing for eachother.

your insults were just sweet words spat in his face, which in his opinion were always better than your silence and indifference. his rough hand, glued to you. everytime he hit you it felt like a kiss.

but this is exactly what you were scared of, his indifference.

you hoped he would’ve at least turned back to you to call you a skxawng or dumb, or whatever.

could at least fill his ego a bit. but he didn’t.

you were now contemplating whether to go to the beach to talk like you did every night, or to just stay in your tent and sleep. this was probably the first time you weren’t sure that he was going to be there, because this type of situation had never occurred.

you’re bad at keeping your emotions bubbled, you’re good at being perfect but together you two were good at being trouble. the only way your emotions resurfaced was picking on him, just to see that angry expression which you absolutely loved, for reasons you couldn’t talk about with lo’ak because it would’ve been weird to talk about him that way with his brother. the most you could do was cross your legs, that’s it.

you know what, fuck it if he’s not there you’ll just smoke alone and then go to sleep as usual.

you brought your cigarettes with you and the special lighter you only use when you’re with him, fucking hell. your organs would probably start eating each other if he isn’t there, but you can’t know if you don’t go first, right ?

you hyped yourself up, took your things and closed your tent. while walking to your usual spot, you happened to hear jake and neytiri talk in their tent. you kneeled and positioned yourself better to not get caught because this would be very awkward and weird to explain.

“i don’t know. i don’t think Eywa does things on accident, there’s no such thing as accidents with her. but it seems so weird. what happened to them ?” this was definitely neytiri’s voice, the last time she sounded this worried was when you and neteyam got lost in the forest when you were seven and eight years old, they then found you both sleeping next to a tree. him hugging you to keep you warm. the sharpest blade of all is nostalgia.

“i’m actually worried, if they had the chance they would kill each other. i have no idea of what to do, all the words and speeches seem absolutely useless. sometimes i think the only way to stop this fighting is to send him to a training camp so they won’t get distracted by their competitiveness.” that’s jake voice, almost cracking. your heart sinked.

they’re going to send neteyam away. you couldn’t stop a tear from cutting through your face only at the thought of not always having neteyam six feet away from you. you had to take matters into hand.

you immediately stood up, walking fast to get to the beach as soon as possible.

your mind just couldn’t shut up. what were you going to do ? who were you going to have next to you ? yes, you have lo’ak but it just wasn’t the same thing.

to your surprise, you notice neteyam was sat in his usual spot. you didn’t recognise him at first, his hair was tied up only leaving a few braids that framed his face. he always knows how to hit the right spot. not smoking, but he was still there alone. you walked on the sand feeling it under your feet, and sat next to him. he did notice you but it seemed like he just wanted to ignore you.

don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

you took a cig out of the pack and lit it up, positioning it on neteyam’s lips while still holding it. he breathed in some smoke, to then breath it out a few seconds after.

you smiled, and positioned it again on your lips, doing the same thing.

the only sound you two were hearing was the waves crashing on anything they found in front of them. everyone was sleeping, you two smoking without letting a thing out of your mouth that wasn’t smoke.

“you know...” you started, finally catching his attention. he turned to you, taking the cig out of your hand, lightly touching it. without even realising it, you held your breath, goosebumps spreading all over your body. why were you suddenly so nervous, what happened ?

don’t panic.

“... i’m stronger that all my men, except for you neteyam.

i didn’t genuinely think that my comment was going to hurt you, that wasn’t my intention. “

you finished your sentence, almost whispering, feeling your heart about to jump out of your ribcage, this was the first time you ever seriously apologised to him. probably the reason why you feel your legs shaking like there’s no tomorrow. you just stayed there, silent not knowing what else you could possibly say to him. you have never been good with words. at the end of the day, your love language was physical touch. you just couldn’t find the words to express how sorry you felt, you could only do that by physically touching them. hugging, touching, caressing.

but things were way too awkward with neteyam to even lightly touch him. you felt this invisible barrier between the both of you, that neither of you dared to break, or even look on the other side. maybe because you were afraid of knowing what was going on the other side of the fence, maybe because you already know. only your consciousness knows the thin difference.

“i always get this anxious feeling,

but it always goes away when i’m with you breathing.”

two things caught you off guard in that moment. first of all, the fact that he was speaking to you, and second, what he said. you would’ve never thought in your whole life that you would ever hear him say anything to you, that wasn’t insulting or teasing. your brain can’t even process what he said, but your body already did. you could feel this weird warm, not hot, feeling in your stomach lingering there. your lips wanted one thing and one thing only, craving the presence of something, almost tingling, that you’re still not sure you will ever admit to yourself. to make things worse, neteyam slowly dropped his eyes to your lips, making you gulp. he looked at them for a second, only to then place the cigarette on your lips slightly parting them, while still holding it.

you hesitated at first, but then breathed in some smoke, taking over your lungs, filling them. neteyam smiled while looking at you breathe out, to then position his lips on the filter, exactly where yours were. you both silently decided to stay quiet, and enjoy each other’s presence.

both of you craving to do something, say something, since this was the only alone time you two had before going back to hate each other, which was something you silently decided mutually. you didn’t want to ask questions, but why did you have to do all this ? because you both know you’re not that jealous. maybe fear of commitment ? but fear of committing to what ? a simple fucking friendship ? maybe you both knew you could never be just friends. maybe you could, but you didn’t want to only be friends. who knows ?

you chuckled, catching his attention.

“you know we could argue right now, and no one would hear or see us ?”

you would never in a thousand years expected this. he neared his smirking face to yours, making your heart skip a beat, but without making it noticeable.

“we could do anything right now,

and nobody would see us. anything.”

and then proceeded to blow smoke in your face, making you cough while you both were chuckling.

he better thank god that you love his mom, because Eywa knows you wouldn’t have held back.

he then proceed to stand up, giving you a hand. you got up and he immediately pulled you in a hug. you hesitated again, but gave in. you hugged him tightly, letting all of his worries flow into you. he kissed the back of your ear, just like you did with ao’nung. sorry neytiri, but that motherfucker. you could literally fall to your knees right now. but you didn’t. you wanted to know.

how far can things get ?

he hesitated, and kissed you again on the same spot. he took it even further and trailed with his kissed to your cheek. kiss after kiss. letting his hands trail from your back to your lower waist, holding it tight like you could escape at any moment.

kissing, from the back of your ear, to your cheek. from your cheek to you jaw. with his hand positioned on your chin, he lifted it up, go give him more space to work on, making you hold your breath, clinging more and more to him. he moved from your jaw, to your neck. weakest spot of ours. and he knew, he fucking knew. you made a mental note to not tell to lo’ak anything about you anymore, because he was going to spill everything to neteyam. and for what c’mon ?

your thoughts were interrupted by his mouth kissing every inch of your neck, sometimes even biting on the sensible skin. you felt the need to cross your legs, to relief even if only a little bit the stress that and nervousness that he was causing you. almost as if he read your mind, he placed his knee in between your legs, but without making any contact.

“fuck you” you thought, without having the energy, the tongue or even the mind to say it out loud, you just felt him smirk against you neck. he knew, again. where did he get all of this experience ? well it wasn’t like you could act like he wasn’t handsome. very handsome. he must have girls like this every night, while you’re feeling special and excited for something he probably has already done a thousand times with a thousand people. you felt embarrassed, humiliated almost. but why does he have such difficulty finding a mate then ? you can hear the girls of the village, talk about him, his arms, his grin, his neck, his legs, his waist, something that is positioned a lil lower than his waist. you couldn’t understand ?

can’t he have the girl he wants ? is she that offlimit ?

that must be why him and jake were arguing the other day, neteyam saying that the only person he wanted was already taken by someone. he loved her, but she wasn’t his.

you feel the same exact way, but talking about mates with him was more offlimit than the girl he wanted. that would’ve been way too awkward. your thoughts were once again stopped by neteyam, who was dragging his hand way too low your waist, it’s not like you didn’t want him to, but still... you were afraid. even if you let him, would’ve that been it ? the end of it ?

a useless hook up, and then going to back to hating eachother ? but you knew. you already knew that if you two crossed that line, you could’ve never gone back to hating him. keeping him distant was the only thing that worked. were you so afraid to love him ? were you afraid he wasn’t going to love you ? were you afraid to love ? were you afraid of not knowing how to love or were you afraid of knowing too much, but with the wrong person ? but well if not him, then who ? for all you know, this could be the last time someone touches you this way. you must stop him, but how could you ?

“neteyam, stop.” you harshly grab his arm, taking him by surprise, but successfully stopping him. he chuckled leaving his head in the crook of your neck, his hands suddenly become distant and cold even though they still were on your body.

“i knew it.” he distanced himself from you, only for him to walk away still facing you for a bit and then stopping, still keeping you confused and doubtful. he continued.

“i fucking knew it.”

➜ @xoxobabe @marcswife21 @arminsgfloll @rubysworld96 @klarolinefanatic @giftfromthemoon @k4tsukiis @rainehatepage @neteyamsbbgfr @miapanticc @iixyia @famousbagelhandspurse @astablacksword @ghoulfac3 @buttercake2234 @potseluymenya @mashiromochi  @avatarslut0

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 7)

Summary: Dean and the reader are in it now. Max and Sam are safe but how do they get themselves out of danger?

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 8,800ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Reader POV

You knew there was no way in hell either of you were going to send your brothers back to this fucked up place. Or Eric and Sloane who would surely be killed. But Dean wasn’t going to risk you either. Which meant there was one option.

And thankfully the crowd was still watching the show before them, even if it was much harder to see you and Dean behind the guards.

“Do you know what a blitz is?” you asked. Sebastian looked at you like you were nuts, momentarily distracted exactly how you wanted him. Dean threw a punch, a hard one, connecting directly with Sebastian’s nose. Blood poured out as Dean tried to hit the guard directly behind you and make a hole for you to get away. They were on him like that though, Sebastian’s gaze turning murderous. 

“Take these two to my office. Figure out how to dispose of them. Find those fuckers that ran off and kill them,” he growled. He popped Dean in the face once, twice, three times, your blood boiling. You took the opportunity to kick the guard behind you while the focus was on him, chucking your heel at another guard on your left and sending your fist flying towards Sebastian’s nuts. He nearly doubled over, ignoring Dean for the moment, his attention back on you. His very angry attention. 

His fist flew out fast. You’d been hit plenty of times accidentally in dance rehearsals. High kicks. Wayward hands. Hell, even Eric had gotten you in the face on occasion when you boxed. But those were accidents. Or you were wearing padding. A mouthguard.

Sebastian Monroe hit you so hard you felt your bones rattle. Your left cheek felt split open, though you doubted it was more than scraped up, a stinging pain to accompany the throbbing that echoed in your skull. Maybe a tinge of blood was dripping down your nose.

You stumbled backwards straight into a guard but had enough time to whip your head around and show your still present crowd of party goers your very clearly injured face.

“He just attacked us!” you shouted, Sebastian glowering as you looked back to him with a smirk. “The world just saw you hit the damn princess of pop on a livestream. Do a thing to us and I don’t give a fuck who you know, you’re going down too.”

“Dad, stop.” Cecilia forced her way into the crowd of people when Sebastian reached for me, smacking his hand away. She stared up at him, fury in her eyes. “It’s over.”

“Stay out of-”

“Everyone is watching. They know what she said. They saw your men move first, you attack them. No one in the world will believe that she’s drunk. Look at them.” His gaze momentarily went over her head and past the bodies in front of him to the crowd of guests nearby. 

The room was absolutely silent. Three hundred pairs of eyes dead set on you, Dean, and their host with bloody knuckles. Three hundred phones aimed straight at you. Three hundred witnesses. Too many people to persuade that you’d lost your mind. Too many to convince that you were wrong. Maybe before but after decking you right in front of them? Crazy or not, that was a line in the sand he couldn’t undo.

You yanked Dean to his feet and stepped back from the guards while Sebastian contemplated his next move. He could run or fight. Try to take you and Dean again. Try to buy his way out of this mess. 

But he simply stood there, staring at his daughter, as if he knew there was no good option left. He kept standing there, the room still quiet, everyone still holding their breath.

Cecilia said something you couldn’t make out, something that made him recoil as if she’d struck him. As she backed away, flashing lights filtered in through the windows, your nerves only receding when you saw a swarm of people in FBI jackets and members of your security team.

It was only then that you realized something was covering your shoulders. Dean’s suit jacket. His hand was on your shoulder, arm curled around your back. Wait, why did your shoulder hurt? And why was Dean murmuring, his lips against the top of your head?

You lifted your head, Dean wearing a sad smile. “You back with me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, closing your eyes when Barry and Owen reached the two of you. They got you outside away from the very confused party guests but you had to stay put for the moment. The feds were busy rounding up every guard they could find, more and more lights flashing in the dark night, more and more cars heard in the distance.

“That was so fucking stupid of you,” said Dean, taking a seat on the front steps, guiding you down with him. His thumb grazed your jaw, careful to avoid your cheek. You smirked, Dean returning it. “You lost your cool. It was a little scary. A little hot too.”

Your eyes wandered down to the bracelet on your wrist, bottom lip wobbling before Dean was pulling you into his lap. “E-Eric taught me how to win a fight. How to beat people twice my size. How to beat a group when I was outnumbered. But the most important thing he taught me-”

“Words are your greatest weapon.” We both looked up, Eric frowning as he inhaled sharply. You eased slightly. He wouldn’t have left Max and Sam unless they were safe.

“That bad?” I asked when he knelt down in front of me, flickering his eyes up. 

“I told you to always fight as a last resort, kiddo,” he whispered. “What happened?”

“She started screaming at him after the text,” said Dean, his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. “They tried to grab her after that and it escalated.”

Eric stared at Dean’s black eye and split lip for a moment, raising an eyebrow at you. “So you baited him. Smart girl.”

“Huh?” asked Dean. You pursed your lips. “What’d I miss?”

“You tossed me the phone so I could read the text.”

“Yeah? Then you left it on the table when you hopped down.” 

“Not exactly.” You reached behind you, under Dean’s jacket and your tight one shoulder sleeve, pulling out the phone. You held it out to Eric, his head shaking as he saw the video was still recording. “If I was shouting and screaming, then people were looking at me but they weren’t looking at me. While Sebastian was worried about the fact that Sam and Max were apparently two very famous people’s brothers, he didn’t see me slip the phone away and he definitely didn’t see me catch him threatening to kill us on tape.”

“Hot damn,” said Dean, staring at you with wide eyes. “You came up with all that in a few seconds?”

“When Eric started working for me, he sat me down one on one and told me I could listen to him, learn his rules, let him keep me safe. Or I could not be a damsel and learn how to take care of myself and know he had my back. Pissed me off so much calling me a damsel I decided I’d show him and learn how to do his job better than him.”

“Never suspected that’s what I wanted her to do all along,” said Eric softly, surprising you by taking Dean’s cheeks in his hands, turning his face gently. “When you’re no longer concussed, which you totally are, you and I are going to start meeting for an hour a week, teach you to be safe too. Alright, sport?”

“Sport? Eric Clayton, you don’t care about me now do you?” teased Dean. Eric scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked you over quickly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what a softie you are.”

“I really need to find a new job,” he sighed, pecking a kiss to your forehead as he stood. “I don’t think you have a concussion. A scrape and nasty bruise. Maybe that got your nose but the hospital will check. Don’t do that again, kiddo.”

“I’ll do my best,” you said, catching his hand when he headed for someone in an FBI jacket. “Are they okay?”

“We got in the car before this scumbags cronies knew what hit them. They’re both a little skinny but otherwise seemed alright. Sloane and the rest of the team is escorting them to a hospital where some agents are waiting. You two are going to have to give statements but I’m going to hand this over and check that I can get you out of here first.”

“Can you ask when we can see them?” asked Dean, Eric parting his lips, hesitating. 

“Yes but…please try to understand what I’m about to say,” said Eric, squatting down in front of both of you. “When someone is abducted, and found, it’s not like a movie. They have to be checked medically. Psych evaluations. Debriefed by authorities. They have to be cleared to see their families again and the process can be…lengthy. It could be six hours, it could be twelve, it could be three days. Your brothers have been gone a very long time. There are a lot of people involved in making sure that they are as prepared as they can be to see you again. These are not your teenage brothers who were barely going through puberty when you lost them. They’re grown men. They need time to adjust.”

Dean took your hand, interlacing your fingers with a nod. “We’ve waited a long time. We can wait a little longer.”

Eric excused himself while you sat in silence together. Ten minutes ago, your brain was going a million miles an hour and now…

“We should call our parents,” said Dean quietly. “They’re going to feel so guilty for thinking they were gone.”

“It’ll be alright,” you said, Eric waving the two of you over to where he chatted with an agent. “Come on. Let’s go get you settled.”

Four Hours Later

It was a shade past midnight when you found Dean in a hospital room. It hadn’t taken long for you to discover you were trending on every social media platform. Worldwide. Your entire team showed up to the hospital along with Dean’s agent. While you were expecting them to want to spin some story, instead they came with changes of clothes for each of you and word that your parents were booked and on a private flight out to LA already.

Max and Sam had been taken to a different hospital but you knew they had federal agents with them so you didn’t worry too much.

“Hey handsome,” you said quietly, taking a seat on his hospital bed. Dean smiled in his joggers and long sleeve henley, reaching a finger out to brush your cheek. “Won’t even scar. Apparently all the plastic surgeons at this hospital were chomping at the bit to work on my face. One even offered to fix my nose at a discount.”

“I love your nose,” he said, wiping his thumb over the black and blue crossing over the bridge of it. “Not broken?”

“No. Burst blood vessels is all.” You pushed up the sleeve of his hoodie you wore and scooted up closer to him, his hand resting on your gray sweatpants. 

“Oh these are soft,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m not sleeping. Don’t scold me.”

“That’s more Sloane’s job, isn’t it?” you teased, Dean agreeing, fluttering his lids open. “Your parents are at FBI headquarters. Mine should be there soon.”

“S’good. Maybe they can see the guys in a few hours. Sloane said a friend in the agency gave some intel. Clean bills of health. They have some old scars on their backs and what look like a healed burn though.”

“Well if the boys want them gone apparently there’s enough plastic surgeons here to take care of it,” you said, Dean humming. You were both quiet, trying to ignore that they’d been hurt at some point. Badly. “Did she find out anything else?”

“Not a lot. They’re still undergoing their mental evals before they take them to the headquarters but it seems promising? Definitely a lot of trauma and PTSD but like the guys have likely learned how to manage on their own I guess? I mean, in my opinion we get those two into the best therapist we can find but in the meantime they’re like…doing better than expected.”

You leaned back in the bed, cramming into his side with a content sigh. “It’s because they had each other. They weren’t alone. I hope.”

“We’ll learn more the next few days, figure out what they need,” said Dean, brushing his lips over your temple. “They should live with us, not our parents.”

“I don’t disagree but why?” 

“S’like Eric said. Max and Sam are not teenage boys anymore. They are both twenty eight and fuck, Y/N, they deserve to be adults. Our parents will suffocate them with concern. We can tow that line. Be there but let them be independent, let them be free. Obviously it’s their choice but with the attention that’s going to be on them, we can keep them safe too. We can show them how much fun there is to life in a way our parents can’t.”

“That makes sense. I just want them with us,” you said, closing your eyes, hoping the medicine they gave you for your headache kicked in soon. “I’m sorry I called you those nasty things.”

“It wasn’t real. All’s forgiven,” he said, his arm wrapped firmly around my shoulder. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s okay. Emma said there’s a clip going around of you going all Alpha and stepping in front of me to protect me. Apparently you are in fact, not quite the bad boy people thought.”

“We got our brothers back and I’m no longer a scoundrel? I’d call that a successful night,” he teased, adjusting himself so he sat upright. “Can you do me a favor and get me a snack from the vending machine? I need some sugar.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” you said, sharing a quick kiss. A moment later you were down the hall, grabbing a package of swiss rolls for Dean. Your ears pricked up at the sudden noise in the quiet hospital wing. The staff had blocked off a corner of it for you and currently was restricted to your people in the waiting room. 

But someone was definitely making noise in a hospital room nearby.

You poked your head in a large dark room, big enough to hold eight beds. There was a grunt and you frowned. The staff said you had these rooms to yourself. They hadn’t forgotten a patient had they?

You quickly walked through the dark space, towards a dim light coming through the windows.

“Excuse me-” You pulled back a curtain, jaw snapping shut as two very naked people quickly scrambled to pull up the sheet at the end of the bed. You shut the curtain and spun around, loud shuffling occurring behind you. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

You quickly walked for the door, barely outside of it before a hand caught your shoulder. 

“Y/N.” You turned and faced Eric, his tuxedo pants pulled up but buckle undone, his undershirt halfway tugged down his torso. “I uh, don’t apologize. I’m the one on duty. We are on duty. We should-”

“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. Eric frowned but remained silent. “I walk in on you and Sloane screwing and you apologize to me? No. Just, no.”

“We are on duty-”

“And there are how many cops and feds outside those doors over there? You know it’s safe here so don’t…” you trailed off as Sloane cleared her throat, walking out barefoot in her dress. You looked between them, Eric glancing down to stare at her hand.

He slowly laced their fingers together, sharing a small smile with her.

“Are we…good?” you asked, the two of them sharing a look and smiling, heads nodding. “Are we happy?”

“Yeah,” said Eric, not giving you the time of day as his eyes wandered all around Sloane’s face, nothing but adoration in them. “I think so.”

“Tonight was a bit of a needed reality check. We wasted a lot of time by not talking to each other. So we talked it out. We’ll talk more about it but…” Sloane trailed off, giving Eric a soft smile. 

“We’re going to give us a chance.” He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand, his sole focus on her. 

“You both deserve it,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Which is why Eric, you are suspended until further notice.”

He slowly turned his head, giving you his best bitch face. “You’re being checked for a concussion again because if you think I’m going anywhere after everything that happened tonight-“

“Dean and I are safe. We can’t do anything but wait for Dean to get released and then to see the boys. So you two are dismissed. Go talk or whatever you guys want. But I don’t want to see your faces-Eric!” you said when he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Sloane, you understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said, cocking her head. “But there’s no way in hell we’re leaving you guys.”

You frowned, Sloane slipping past you, heading for the women’s room. You gave Eric a glare, a cocky smirk staring back. “Why are you being difficult about this? We are safe. You two have been in love for years and you’re finally working it out. Take her home, Eric.”

“Nah,” he said, crossing his arms, chuckling when you huffed.

“I will fire you.” He laughed, choosing to wrap his arms around your body, giving you a tight hug. “I’m not joking.”

He hummed, ignoring your repeated grunts at him. Finally you sighed, his chest warm against your achy cheek. After a few beats, you let out a small shake, Eric kissing the top of your head.

“What did your parents say on the phone that made you cry?” You stiffened momentarily, Eric’s chin coming to rest on top of your head. “You think I didn’t catch that? I know everything that happens around here. Spill.”

“Promise me you won’t get angry because when you get angry at them you go all crazy and I need the version of you that’s like my older brother, not my scary protection agent. Please.”

“You do realize older brothers are far more protective than people in my line of duty.” You pouted, staring upwards, his finger booping your nose. Tears filled your eyes, his own full of worry. “I promise to be good. Don’t worry-”

“No it’s…do you actually care about me? Like an older brother would?” you asked quietly. He smiled, leaning back to look you up and down. 

“You remember a few years ago how you thought you asked me to have sex the night of your 30th birthday? Yeah, see, you actually asked every single man on the security team and they all saw how clearly plastered you were and said no.” You blinked away your tears momentarily, holding up a finger. 

“I did what?” Eric laughed deeply, rubbing your arms.

“It was a bit adorable really. But me? No, I didn’t get an ask because it would have been ‘like fucking my brother.’ I put you to bed after that. You were shaky on the details in the morning and knew you asked somebody to screw you so I took the heat so you didn’t feel embarrassed around the boys. So. Do I care about you?” He cocked his head, hiding a smile. “Yeah. I care a fuck ton. You’re my best damn friend, little sister and the world’s biggest pain in my ass all rolled into one. I love you kiddo which is why as much as I’d love to take Sloane home, she understands I’m not leaving my family alone tonight. Especially not when your parents are vile because I had a dad like that and I know how it fucks you up.” 

You swallowed thickly, Eric bending down to be at eye level with you.

“Just because Max is back does not mean you have to have a relationship with them. They-”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you whispered. He furrowed his brow, Sloane’s footsteps heard behind you, coming to a stop. “They called and asked me not to tell Max what they said because…b-because I was never supposed to pick him up that day. They were. They blamed me so they wouldn’t get scrutinized. T-They blamed me and told me…for years I thought…”

You hiccuped, Eric’s grip on your shoulders hard, so hard it hurt. He was pissed. More than pissed. But his face was strangely calm.

“You punched a mob boss in the dick tonight. A very, very violent man that’s killed god knows how many people. You’re strong and you know that. I saw the tape and damn it kid, you are amazing. I am begging you, do not let these people hurt you anymore. They don’t deserve your protection. They are abusive and manipulative. My dad was the same way. Exactly the same. Don’t be like me and wait your whole life to acknowledge it. Don’t give them a second more of your time. Be a big sister instead and do what you have to in order to protect Max.” 

“It’ll break his heart,” you breathed out.

“Look at his life. His heart’s already broken.” You looked past Eric and spotted Dean, green eyes downcast. “Those people told you to die. Fuck them. Max still has a family, right here. Hell, he can have my parents too. But we are not letting him go from one manipulative monster straight to another. And you already decided that, didn’t you?”

“I just…I don’t…what if he thinks I’m lying?” you whispered. Eric moved aside, Dean sighing as he gently tilted your chin upwards. “What if he picks them? They’re his parents. I’m-”

“Y/N.” Dean shook his head. “You’re forgetting something very important.”

“What?” you breathed out, his hand cupping your uninjured cheek. 

“He probably remembers every single detail of that day. He knows you weren’t meant to get him. Even if you were, it wasn’t your fault. As far as we know, he’s spent a long time living with a manipulative bastard. The second they blame you to his face, he’s going to figure out exactly what life’s been like for you while he was gone. You’re not going to have to say a thing. They’re going to fuck it up themselves. All you have to do is be there for him after the fact, sweetheart.”

You nodded, Dean wrapping you up in a hug, Eric and Sloane leaving to give you some privacy. “Dean?”

“Hm?” he hummed.

“You want your swiss rolls?” He laughed and let out an agreeing hum. A moment later you were in his bed, splitting the package, a pit forming in your stomach. You left your snack in the opened plastic wrapper, Dean’s heated gaze on you when you went to the dark window. You glanced downwards to the parking lot, catching at least nine different news vans with bright lights on. “They’ll never have normal lives. Sam and Max. Even if we weren’t famous, they are in their own right. They didn’t get to be normal kids.”

“What’s really wrong?” he asked. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean sat upright in bed, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“How do you know something’s wrong?” you whispered, crossing your arms. His lip twitched up, if only for a brief moment.

“How’d you know I’d pick up on what cherry blossoms meant in that fake fight?” You bit the inside of your cheek, shrugging a shoulder.

“Because you’re smart. I trust you.”

“Why cherry blossoms?” Dean asked again. You stepped away from the window, stopping in front of him. 

“Because it means a safe place to me.” He took your hands in his, stroking the backs of them with his thumbs. You met his gaze, Dean staring up with big green eyes that eased some of the worry in your gut. “My childhood house, there’s a cherry blossom in the front yard. It was weird because no one in the neighborhood had one. But we did. It was the tree that was always safe when Max and I played hide and seek. It was the finish line whenever we had races. I had my first kiss under that tree. I wrote my first song under it. The day Max didn’t come home, I sat out there for hours crying and then just feeling numb.”

The pit in your stomach rose up, eyes quickly fighting back hot tears.

“It was safe. He knew it was safe. It was always safe or home base or where he’d wait for me to get home from practice so we could play after school. So I’d sit under that stupid tree everyday for hours hoping he’d just come back to where it was home, where it was safe. To our stupid finish line.” You wiped off your face with your sleeve, Dean’s chest rising and falling slowly. “Finish Line is about that damn tree. Homebound? That tree. Cherry Lipstick? Tree. Blossom? Tree. Jungle Gym? Tree. They were all for Max. All for him just in case he heard them so he’d know. So he’d know I was still looking, that I wasn’t giving up on him. It’s the only reason I signed my first record deal at all. I thought the more popular I got, the more power and money I’d have and maybe I could find him. I thought it’d be enough but it wasn’t. It all came down to dumb luck.”

“Y/N.” Dean chuckled, pulling you down to sit on his lap. You put your arms around his neck, Dean shaking his head. “You’re the best damn big sister in the world. Max might be losing his parents but he’s got nothing to worry about.”

“I worry about things,” you said, Dean laughing again.

“No shit,” he said, his deep chuckle helping ease away some of the lingering concerns in the back of your mind. “Now sit down and relax. Tonight’s a good night.”

“I know,” you said, Dean handing you the swiss roll. You took a bite, Dean scooting back on the bed, bringing you with him. “That’s why I told security the all safe code was cherry blossoms. But I still don’t get why would Eric tell you that when we didn’t know each other much yet?”

“I think he saw the way we were together at the restaurant and that afternoon. It was probably as obvious to him as him and Sloane are to us. It’s inevitable.”

“Inevitable? Good song name,” you said, Dean grinning. “You know I totally caught them fucking in a room down the hall.”

“Eric!” shouted Dean. Approximately six seconds later he was in the doorway, gun in his hands and wide eyed. “You and Sloane, eh? About fucking time!”

“I swear to god I’m quitting this job,” grumbled Eric, flipping Dean the bird as he left.

“That’s his love language,” you said, Dean laughing. “You know what mine is?”

“Cuddles, orgasms and swiss rolls?” You looked him up and down, nodding your head. “I’m just that good.”

“Oh my god,” you said, rolling your eyes and slipping out of bed. “I’m getting more snacks, cocky bastard.”

“You love it,” he teased. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, playboy.”

Dean POV

“Thanks,” I said the next morning at the local FBI headquarters. I was tired, my face hurt, and I definitely had a concussion which meant sitting out tonight’s game and the next few weeks worth. Y/N’s cheek had swollen to a nasty purple color but she’d gotten a few hours sleep at the hospital. I hated to see her hurt but she took it in stride, her focus elsewhere.

Sam and Max were somewhere in the building, as free men, which made my stomach do this weird flipping thing akin to the first time I’d seen Y/N. It was nerves but good ones. We’d be able to talk to the guys soon but they were wrapping up talking to some special investigator which meant Y/N and I had time to kill. While our parents were using that time to scream at each other in a conference room after I not so subtly slipped to mine about what her parents plans were, Y/N got dragged into signing autographs for the people in the office. It was fucking ridiculous and unprofessional of these people but she needed something to do to keep her mind occupied.

Which meant I had a chance to talk to someone I’d been dying to since last night.

“Hey,” I said. Cecilia looked up from the table she’d been staring at. Her pretty blue dress from last night was gone. Now she wore way too big sweatpants, an FBI shirt and had a pair of cheap flip flops on her feet. “The agent said you’re okay if I talk to you for a minute?”

She nodded, pulling her hands down to under the table. I took a seat across, giving her a smile.

“I uh, went to the LA concert at the end of August too,” I said, holding up my wrist so she could see my friendship bracelet. “That was before Y/N and I knew each other.”

She only stared, vacantly almost. Poor kid looked like she’d been up half the night. 

“Why did you protect us last night?” I asked. “You stepped in and your dad just…it was like he realized it was over.”

“He was going to kill you both. He tends to do that to people.” I took my turn to stare, Cecilia sighing. “He would have, even if everyone was live streaming it. He didn’t care at that point.”

“But why would you protect two strangers? I don’t even understand how you got him to stop-”

“Just because he’s a bad person doesn’t mean I’m one.” I parted my lips, the right words to respond not coming. “It’s why I lied for Sam and Max when they slipped your guys names to the party planner. I always knew my dad was violent and something was up with them. I figured they always worked to send money to their families or he’d threatened them. But a man like my dad…”

“What he says goes,” I filled in for her. She nodded, relaxing her shoulders. “Thank you for covering for them. I’m guessing they would have been killed if you hadn’t.”

“It’s not a guess,” she said, breathing deeply. “I’m the only thing in the world my dad cares about more than keeping his power.”

Cecilia leaned back in her chair, glancing down for a split second. 

“I told him if he touched either of you, touched anyone, he would never see or speak to me again. We fight enough that he knows I’m telling the truth.”

“Is that why you’re helping the feds? You hate your dad?”

She got up, pacing back and forth. “I don’t hate him. He was never bad to me. He was overprotective if anything. But he bought two boys off the black market to be slaves for him. Shit Max started working at my house two months after I was born. My whole life. My father doesn’t deserve to be free ever again. I just wish I said something sooner.”

I rose to my feet, Cecilia stopping in her tracks. I took a few tentative steps closer, her arms firmly crossed over her chest. I paused a few feet away, her short frame practically dwarfed by the large clothes, making her look even smaller.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to tell you something and I need you to listen to me, really listen.” I crouched down to meet her at eye level, finding her gnawing on her bottom lip. “It was not on you to save Max or Sam. Or even Y/N or myself. But you did. At fucking fourteen years old. You’re still a damn kid and you went way above and beyond for us. Don’t you ever blame yourself for anything your dad ever did. He might not be a good person but you are an amazing one and I will owe you for the rest of my life. I may hate your dad but I don’t hate you. Y/N and I both feel that way. I’m sure our brothers do too. Now, life is going to get rough for you because all of us are all over the news. But we’re going to help you get through it. Whatever you need, we will help. Understand?”

She nodded after a moment, her eyes still full of worry.

“They said your mom is flying over from Europe right now,” I said, going to the table and jotting down my number on the notepad in there. “This is my cell. I want you to give it to your mom when she gets in. Tell her to call me anytime, okay?”

“Why would you help me?” she asked quietly. I stood upright, handing her the paper. She took it, carefully folding it and putting it in her pocket.

“Because you’re a good kid and you can’t help having a shitty parent. Now, do you need anything while you wait for your mom?” Cecilia shook her head. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Can…can you tell the guys I’m sorry? And Y/N too?”

“Sorry, no can do. You only apologize when you’ve done something wrong you see.” She rolled her eyes, quickly frowning when she realized what she’d done. “Do me a favor? Keep being a normal teenager.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“Thank you, Cecilia,” I said, offering her a smile. “I’m sure we’ll talk again. Maybe we can catch one of Y/N’s concerts together next year.”

She blushed and nodded. I had my hand on the door when she cleared her throat behind me. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“This is probably going to come off as super creepy but Y/N is happier with you. Take it from a teenager that’s obsessed with her. She is so much happier in pictures lately. I saw the way you stepped in front of her. You’re a good person too.”

“I try,” I said. “I’ll see you around.”

I was in the hallway for less than two seconds when Sloane rounded a corner, taking my hand. “The boys are ready. They want to see you and Y/N first.”

I didn’t have time to get nervous as Sloane dragged me down the hall and back around the corner, Y/N and Eric waiting outside a door with a few agents. Sloane released me as I took Y/N’s hand, one of the agents opening the door for us.

I spotted an unfamiliar young man spinning around in a conference chair first, the room full of light from the large windows on the back wall. He had the same color hair as Y/N, his eyes filtering over and meeting mine, finding those the same as hers too.

We both looked away at the same time, my eyes drawn to the figure by the windows. Holy shit Sammy got tall. His hair was a longer and I could see the beginnings of stubble along his jaw, probably in need of a shave. 

But that smile when he saw me? That was still my Sammy’s smile.

At least that hadn’t been taken from him.

“Wow. Can you believe it Sam?” asked Max, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “It’s the three time superbowl winner Dean Winchester!”

“I know! And the Princess of Pop? I think we’re supposed to be meeting our brother and sister, not celebrities. Where are those untalented hacks anyway?” teased Sam.

“No clue. Maybe we can get autographs while we wait. Our siblings definitely aren’t as cool as these guys,” said Max with a shit eating grin aimed at Y/N. He winked and she dropped her jaw. “Hiya, horse hair.”

“I don’t have horse hair you little shit,” she said, storming over, Max catching her in a crushing hug as he stood. 

“Hey jerk,” said Sam as he approached me.

“Hey bitch,” I whispered, meeting him in a deep embrace. He chuckled deeply, squeezing me way too tight. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ve been dying to show you for years I ended up taller than you.” I rolled my eyes, holding him harder. “It’s alright. Only one of us could be blessed to be tall and good looking I suppose.”

“Oh I fucking missed you, you asshole,” I laughed. There was a squeal beside us, both our heads turning as Max quickly released Y/N. “Don’t break her on me, Max. I like that one.”

“Eh, she’s alright,” he said, Y/N wrapping her arms around his waist in a side hug. “A little clingy.”

“You’re a dick,” she said with a smile. “I missed you Maxie.”

“Yeah I guess I missed you too,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a smile. He gave her another squeeze and looked to me, eyes flickering down to my arm. “Nice tat.”

“Thanks. Little brothers go on the arm,” I said, Max glancing back up. “Come here, shrimp.”

I pulled him into a hug as Sam reached for Y/N, the two of them sharing some words. Max relaxed against me, letting out a very deep breath.

“You don’t know this yet but I really love you, kid.” He burrowed his head in the crook of my neck, nodding once. “You can cry you know.”

“I did enough of that over the years,” he said, raising his head, smiling wide as he looked me in the eye. “It’s just like being able to take a full breath for the first time in a long time.”

“I understand the feeling,” I said, ruffling his hair, spotting the faded bruise on his cheek. “What happened here?”

“It was part of our plan. Well…getting punched wasn’t but it was part of it,” he said. I cocked my head when Sam threw an arm around my shoulders, Y/N sneaking in between the both of them.

“Plan? All we heard was you guys slipped our names onto some guest list,” said Y/N. They shared a look, silently communicating, the sudden realization hitting me that there was so much we didn’t know.

“We’ve made…a few escape attempts over the years,” said Sam. “The last failed one was eight years ago. We knew if we tried again, it had to have high chance of success which meant outside help.”

“Because we only had one shot left and we knew both of you had some level of infamy…we always thought if we could reach out to one of you, we knew we’d be able to get out. But it was kind of impossible until we found out you were dating.”

“Seb, that motherfucker, loves the Wolves and Dean. Cecilia loves Y/N and those two had a pretty argumentative relationship to say the least. We figured if we could somehow get you guys invited to one of his parties, he wouldn’t think twice because maybe it was a way to get some good grace with his daughter and it benefited him at the same time,” said Sam. “So we risked it.”

“How’s she doing by the way? We heard Seb was arrested. She doesn’t really have anyone else beside her mom who Seb has banished to Switzerland most of the year,” said Max. 

“She’s uh, alright. Pretty sure the kid is beating herself up for not saying anything about you guys, said she had a gut feeling something was always off,” I said. They shared a look again and frowned. “She’s just a kid, guys. She-”

“Cecilia is the only person we like,” said Sam with a laugh. “Trust us. She’s how we know so much about you guys.”

“She was also the only person that was ever nice to us. No, we have no problem with her. We should talk to her before we leave if we can,” said Max, Sam agreeing. “But I guess we should save the explanations for when mom and dad are here.”

Y/N’s face fell, Sam giving her a side hug. “He means my parents. Max decided they were his a long time ago cause yours kind of suck. No offense.”

Y/N snapped her head up to Max who shrugged. “They blamed you when it wasn’t your fault. Maybe they didn’t spell it out but I heard enough from Cecilia and caught enough snippets from interviews she’d watch to know that they tried to pin my kidnapping on you. I gave them up years ago. I hear John and Mary are nice.”

“They are,” she said, closing her eyes. “I was freaking out last night about telling you and…we can talk about it later. I’m sure your guys parents are chomping at the bit.”

“They’re going to smother us,” sighed Sam. 

“Yeah. Isn’t it great?” asked Max, giving both me and Y/N a hug, Sam completing it on my right side. “Alright. Let’s let ‘em in.”

“So why was that pass interference?” asked Y/N as we lay on her large sectional late that night watching football. 

“You can’t hold the guy,” said Sam, walking around the chaise and taking a seat beside me.

“That was not a hold,” said Max and Y/N in sync. 

“Yes it was,” I said, Sam echoing my sentiments.

“It wasn’t but the angle is bad,” said Eric, Sloane leaned back against his chest over on the love seat. “Aren’t you supposed to route for the Wolves by default, kiddo?”

“We are a Chiefs family thank you very much,” said Max, Sam rolling his eyes. “Oh you want to start again, Winchester?”

“We are formerly a Chiefs family, Maxwell,” said Sam, narrowing his eyes. “How many times have we been over this?”

“I am a Wolves fan when they are not playing against the Chiefs. How many times have we better over that, Samuel?” shot back Max.

“Here we thought they’d be traumatized shells of themselves. Instead you’ve been bickering over football the past decade?” asked Y/N, turning her head to look at both.

“It’s a coping mechanism,” said Sloane, taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl in her lap. “Although your guys psych eval report was shockingly positive. Some stuff to work through but manageable. I always figured you’d be super fucked up. No offense.”

“One of the shrink people said it’s cause we had each other,” said Sam, glancing at Max. “Healthy codependency.”

“We probably should go to therapy though,” said Max, Y/N ruffling his hair.

“Of course. When you’re ready. Take a few days before you try to start unpacking. And when you’re ready we can see a doctor about getting those scars removed,” she said. They were both quiet for a moment, Sam’s head resting on my shoulder. 

“So why aren’t you at your game tonight?” asked Sam. 

“Oh I wonder,” I scoffed, giving him a noogie. “Coach said if I set foot in the stadium he’d bench me the rest of the season. He’s a good guy.”

“That’s nice considering you get paid a gajillion dollars to show up, even if you’re half dead.” Sam snickered beside me, letting me pull him into a noogie.

“Probably helps that Y/N personally spoke to the commissioner of the league and threatened to pull out of the halftime show if they didn’t quote ‘Make accommodations for not only an injured top draw of the league but someone who’s personal life they’ve capitalized on all season.’ Girl don’t fuck around,” said Eric. He took a sip from his beer, Max raising an eyebrow at his sister.

“Seriously? You’re that famous?” he asked.

“She’s that powerful,” I said. Y/N tilted her head upwards, a small smile on her lips. “Excuse us for a minute.”

I took her hand, Y/N following me down the hall to her studio. Y/N slid her hands up my arm, holding on tight. “What are you thinking about big guy?”

“Do you remember last night before the party when I was talking about football?” She hummed, tracing her thumb under my black eye. “My contract runs out this year. My agent was about to start negotiations.”

Y/N pulled me over to the piano, sitting on the bench before patting the spot next to her. Slowly I sat, her right hand reaching across my body and hitting a key. She took my hand and hit the same key with it, doing it a few times. 

“What are you doing?” She moved my hand down the keys, hitting another one.

“You like the piano. We’re going to have to find you a hobby in retirement and this is one we can do together.” A stupid smile spread onto my face, Y/N lacing our fingers together. “You were halfway out the door last night. Now that the boys are back…maybe you take a year, we take time with them while you figure out what you want to do next.”

“I told coach earlier this is my last season,” I said. “I need to be home more.”

“Just don’t give up what you want for us,” she said. I shrugged, turning in my seat. 

“I’m not giving up anything. I’m gaining something new.” I took her hands into my lap, Y/N shifting closer. “I do want one thing though. Live life for you, not Max. He’s going to be alright. So no more songs trying to talk to him. No more pushing yourself to the extreme. Let’s start making you the priority and what you want.”

“I want you to move in permanently. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to write the sappiest love songs about you. I want to do only twenty shows next year and focus on our family for the rest. I want-”

“Damn girl, you’re greedy,” I teased. She punched my arm, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I think we can arrange those things, sweetheart.”

“Oh and I want to plan Eric and Sloane’s wedding,” she said. I laughed, tugging her into my lap, her legs wrapping around my waist. “Can you imagine? It’ll be full of like badass action movie kind of people.”

“Eric’s going to hate it. I’m in,” I said, chuckling lightly. “It’s a little presumptuous though. I mean, they started dating twenty hours ago.”

“Those two are so going to be engaged within a month.” I hummed, cocking my head. “That isn’t me saying I need…you don’t have to-”

“We don’t have to rush. Someday,” I promised.

“Someday,” she whispered, brushing her lips over mine. “So if brothers go on the arm, where do I go?”

“Where do I go?” I teased, Y/N grinning. “Oh? Do we have an idea?”

“Oh yeah I’ve got one of those.”

Reader POV

Four Months Later

You jogged down the hall of the stadium, buckets of sweat pouring off you. Even Eric was having a hard time keeping up. You kept running around a corner though, smiling when you saw an equally sweaty Dean in his uniform and pads, helmet by his side talking to Benny and Michael.

“Hey!” You ran over and found yourself in a big hug, Dean squeezing you tight. “You’re doing amazing sweetie. But you, Benjamin, are favoring your right shoulder and making a hole and the Chiefs are taking advantage. Get your shit together. He’s going out with a superbowl win, got it?”

He held up his hands, Dean chuckling to himself. “Didn’t you guys like it better before I taught her all the rushing routes?”

“She’d make a good offensive coordinator,” said Michael. “Great show out there. Normally these suck but yours was actually watchable.”

“I’ll bring you up next time,” you winked. “I’ve heard you sing karaoke.”

His face went white and you laughed, Dean kissing your sweaty forehead. “How are the boys doing?”

“Max is in a Wolves jersey. Win or lose, you get to make fun of him for switching his team after making such a big deal about it.” 

“Oh I definitely will,” he said, people moving around and heading back onto the field. “Walk with me.”

You followed by his side, Dean taking your hand in his. “They seemed like they’re having a blast. They had on matching shirts making fun of us earlier so we’re going to get memed the hell out of.”

“Good. I’m glad they’re having fun,” he said, the stadium loud when you stepped foot onto the fake astroturf. “Are you?”

“Are you kidding me? I just performed at the superbowl. You’re up by ten. Our brothers are having the times of their lives. I’m pretty sure Eric and Sloane got caught on camera staring adorable into each others eyes which I’m totally printing out onto t-shirts we can embarrass them with.”

“I’m literally right here, asshole,” said Eric behind you. You spun around with a smile, Eric rolling his eyes. “You got a minute before we head back if you don’t want to miss any of the game.”

“You mean you don’t want to miss any of the game. You know I appreciate my number one fan, Eric,” said Dean with a cheeky grin. Eric flipped him off, hanging back once you were closer to security. 

“Kick it in the ass, babe.” You held up your hand, Dean high fiving it before your fist bumped into an explosion, a tradition you’d started before each of his playoff games.

“Always do. Ready to have a trophy husband in about three hours?” he teased. 

“Trophy husband?” you said, Dean thumbing over the heart tattoo on your wrist, his own sporting a matching one. You weren’t married. Technically. There was a time for that down the road. But you’d gotten the tattoos a few days after Max and Sam had come home. The media had guessed what it meant and landed on it was some stupidly cute couple thing. Only a few knew the true meaning.

You were his, he was yours and that was that.

“I mean you do have a cute butt. I guess you can be one of those,” you laughed. Dean grinned and pecked a kiss to your lips, a thunderous roar in your ears from the thousand of onlookers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you girl with the obnoxious orange sneakers,” he said. You glanced down and blushed, Dean curling a strand of slick hair behind your ears. “Want to grab some chicken nuggies with me after my game? I mean, last time I was there I ran into the love of my life. Maybe I’ll see her again.”

“Yeah I think you will,” you said, kissing him quickly and winking. “I’ll see you soon, playboy.”

“See you soon, princess.” You let him jog over to his team, quickly jogging out of there with Eric by your side. 

“I love your sneakers!” shouted someone as you ran through a stadium hall, trying to make it back upstairs to grab a quick shower and change. 

“Thank you!” you called back, Eric shaking his head. “What?”

“I can’t believe you wore those godawful orange sneakers in front of a hundred million people,” he said. “The Winchester jersey makes sense but the shoes?”

“I didn’t do it for them,” you said, smiling when you glanced down at the shoes. 

Your original sneakers from college. It’d taken some hunting down but you’d found them still in your old roommates possession. More than one of your designers and members of the team tried to persuade you to not wear them. They clashed. They were ugly. They didn’t match anything.

But you didn’t care. 

While the world was watching you perform in those orange sneakers, you only cared about one person watching. 

The boy that fell in love with the girl with the obnoxious orange sneakers. And that smile on his face when he saw you in them? 

You’d never forget that smile for the rest of your life.

___________

[vhagarlovebot]

THE WAY I FEEL INSIDE.

pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: you’ve been in love with aemond targaryen ever since your second year at boarding school, the only problem is that he doesn’t know it and you’ve never been good at lying to him.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, pining, hurt/comfort, love confessions, mentions of alcohol, swearing, basically two idiots in love. it is a little bit long.

note: hello, lovely reader ! i just want to say a few things before you start reading. this was one of my first works here on this app but in a different blog way back when i used to write for the marauders. this was actually written thinking about remus lupin and i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

THE GREAT HALL IS A MESS in the morning and does not help with the migraine you woke up with, therefore you can’t focus on an essay that’s due today. it does not help that your friends are laughing and talking with each other either, it’s not like you’re good at paying attention to one thing when there’s a lot going on right next to you, so your attention shifts away to them not really listening to what they’re saying.

you’re still with your hands on your head looking directly at the book you have in front, trying to sort out the mess, when cregan’s voice startles you.

“you alright, love?” he asks from his seat in front of you, the hint of a smirk on his face.

“jus’ trying to finish this essay.” you say softly, closing the book and rubbing your tired eyes with the palm of your hand.

“i thought you finished it last night.” baela says, turning her head, body facing cregan. “you need help?”

“not really,” you give her a tired smile. “m’just tired, i didn’t sleep well last night.”

whatever baela says you can’t hear it because from the corner of your eyes you see aemond’s tall body getting closer to the table and sitting next to you. twenty minutes ago he was sitting at that same spot but left without saying a word, causing everyone to worry.

“here,” aemond gives you something, looking down you see a white pill in his open palm. “s’going to make you feel better.”

you don’t say anything, you just stare at those bright blue eyes and blushed cheeks. and he stares back, not paying attention to anyone but you.

you didn’t think aemond could do anything else to show how much he cares about you, but you were proved wrong. something as simple as this has your heart beating fast and tears filling your eyes, and you’re extra aware that he can hear the thump thump thump of your heart as much as you can see the frown that has taken over his face.

and you’re also aware your friends are watching, so you take a deep breath and the pill still sitting on his hand.

“always taking care of me, aem, thank you.” you mumble, laying your head on his shoulder.

you walk slowly through the halls, head in the clouds.

you were able to finish the essay on time, the migraine long gone, and the only reason you managed to do it was thanks to aemond because if he hadn’t gone to the infirmary then you’d still be sitting in the great hall eating your brains out.

at the thought of your best friend a smile makes its way on your face.

ever since you have known aemond he’s always been extra careful with you, extra attentive, extra caring. and you’re pretty sure it started during second year in boarding school when your parents sent you a letter saying they would not be home for christmas, which meant you had nowhere to go and no other option but to stay at the school alone. aemond was sitting close to you that day and saw the way you tried to hide your sadness with a small smile but weren’t able to keep the tears from falling, and when you left in such a hurry that you didn’t notice you had dropped the letter on your way out, that’s exactly when he decided to persuade his friends to stay. he didn’t mind lying or spending christmas at the school, he just wanted to see the pretty girl smile again.

you met the targaryens on christmas day your second year at boarding school when they were some of the few students who stayed too, and it was one of the best thing that ever happened in your life.

you fell in love with aemond targaryen on christmas day your second year at boarding school, though at that time you didn’t know and refused to accept it until fifth year.

you two fell into a routine in which you were a walking mess and he was right there next you ready to help you, or be a mess with you. always making sure you eat all your meals after he saw how on fourth year you stopped going to breakfast choosing to go straight to classes and how you always stayed at the library until there was no one left, so you were free to go to your dorm without worried glances from your friends. that was until you came down from the girls dormitories one morning, knowing everyone was at the great hall, everyone except aemond who was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs with an apple and a juice box in his right hand, and a shy smile on his face. always making sure you understood everything your professors said. always waiting for you after one particular class you two did not share once he witnessed some girls being mean to you. and you were always happy to lie next to him when he was feeling grouchy and scared, giving him comforting words and tracing the scar on his face, making him hide under his pillow with blushed cheeks; he looked after you and you looked after him, that’s your friendship. you always tried to convince yourself it was just a friend worrying for a friend, when in fact you were head over heels in love with the boy.

there have been a few occasions where all you wanted to do was tell him how much you love him; a lot more than a best friend should love her best friend. but every time you decided to finally do it, still afraid you would ruin the friendship but unable to hide how much you were feeling, something that would leave you with scattered pieces of your heart in your hands happened. because with each passing year while the feeling inside of you grew, and it grew and it grew, aemond showed you he didn’t feel the same way. and you knew he never did it on purpose, how could he if he didn’t know you were in love with him while he snogged different girls, running to talk to you about it and breaking your heart. you didn’t think you’d hate lying so much, but every time he sought advice from you, you hated every word that came out of your mouth, you hated the forced smile on your face, you hated how your eyes welled up with tears when he told you alys rivers stopped him after classes to tell him how handsome he looked that day, batting her eyelashes then coyly hiding behind her books. you hate how your chest physically aches when there is a party in the common hall because it means you’d have to see him flirt with a different girl all night. and that’s exactly why you stopped going to parties, giving a different excuse every time someone asked.

so you convinced yourself that everything you could ever have from aemond is his everlasting friendship. and that is better than not having aemond at all.

your walk comes to a stop when you see your friends sitting in the grass at the rugby pitch, in the distance cregan is giving his team a talk before the game, looking rather annoyed.

“cregan’s going to kill you if you don’t take this game seriously.” you say looking at your raven-haired friend, tossing your bag and sitting next to helaena. at this, jace throws you a half-eaten chocolate before taking his things and jogging to his friend.

“where were you?” baela asks, titling her head.

“professor gerardys wanted help with something, i said yes for a few extra points.” you shrug, bringing the chocolate to your mouth while looking around. instant regret crosses your features at the sight of your best friend sitting a few meters away with a bunch of people, his arm around alys river’s shoulders.

luke follows your gaze. “it looks like she finally took the courage to ask him out.”

“she asked him out!?” your voice comes out a little too loud for your liking and you really don’t like the look of pity that comes into your girl friends eyes. “well, it was about damn time.” you chuckle, though your friends know the reality behind those words.

“you coming tonight?” helaena asks, changing the subject and rubbing your arms, but looking straight ahead to baela, who is making fun of something luke said. “i think it’ll make you feel better,” her smile is pleading. “y´know you need it, forget the books for one night.”

you look at aemond one more time. “i think i deserve it.”

you are laughing as baela explains to two boys how jace was the one who helped win the match. “no, no! you don’t understand how important it is that jace did that,” she exclaims. “if he had gone to the left, then we wouldn’t be here.” the silver-haired shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink.

“i think they get it, baels.” you roll your eyes, rubbing shoulders with her. “don’t you, boys?” they nod eagerly, hiding their faces behind the cups filled with liquor.

your conversation is interrupted by someone leaning against the wall next to you. “hey, you.” aemond speaks after a moment of silence. “i didn’t think you’d be coming.”

“if you want i can go back to my dorm.” you mumble, trying to avoid his gaze. you know you shouldn’t be so cold with him, after all he’s done nothing to have you reacting this way, at least not something he’s aware of.

“that’s not what i said.” you’re not looking at him but you can sense the frown on his face. “i’m happy you’re here, i can’t remember when was the last time we party together.”

“well, i’m here now.” you clear your throat. “were you with alys rivers today?” you definitely shouldn’t have asked, you don’t even want to talk about it. you would rather hear about how jace is the best player on his team than to hear about how the older girl is stealing your best friend’s heart when you wish you were her. you want your heart to stop hurting and your mind to stop creating scenarios in which it is you who’s feeling the warm emanating from his body, the owner of his laugh… his heart.

“you saw us?” he doesn’t sound surprised.

“s’not like you two were being quiet.” you shrug, taking a sip of your beer.

“we all saw you.” baela explains, interrupting the conversation in your favor. “are you two like… together?” she asks what’s been going through your mind all day but were too afraid to ask.

aemond goes silent and all the blood leaves your face. that’s it, this is the final confirmation you needed to let aemond go—not like he was yours to lose—and you don’t want to hear it. your heart has been crushed so many times through the years you don’t think you could handle it one more time.

you straighten your shoulders and smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “if you’ll excuse me.” you try to fight the feeling that has settled in your belly, pushing away the pain in your chest, but it gets harder every second. you would think time would make it easier.

you try to hide the sound of your heart breaking by walking away, but aemond is having none of it. he grabs your wrist and you’re forced to stay right where you are. but you’re afraid. you fear that the longer you spend with aemond, the more emotionally unstable you become, eventually exposing yourself and your true feelings.

baela excuses herself, leaving you and your best friend alone, though the common hall is full, it feels like it is just the two of you.

“are you feeling alright?” he asks, confused. “you want me to go to the infirmary again? i’m sure they will ha—”

“jus’ stop it!” you cut him off, pushing him away.

he whispers your name. “i’m just trying to—”

“i didn’t ask you.”

“well, ouch.” aemond takes a step back, looking at you like you have two heads coming out of your body. “i know you didn’t ask me, but i want to.”

“m’not your fucking problem.” you mutter bitterly to yourself, but he hears it.

“did i do something to upset you?” he asks, genuinely worried. you can see the gears moving inside his head, like he’s really trying to remember what did he do.

you know you’re acting this way guided by your feelings and aemond has nothing, but everything actually, to do with it.

you take a deep breath. “i’m sorry, i’m not feeling well today.” you shake your head, taking two careful steps towards him. “you did nothing. i just need to lay down, i’ll see you in the morning.” you assure him with a smile.

but again, he’s grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. “i can go up with you.”

“you should worry about your girlfriend.” you nod, looking over his shoulder at alys rivers, who’s not even trying to hide the scowl on her face.

he doesn’t even look. “but you need me.”

he doesn’t deny it.

aemond doesn’t deny she’s his girlfriend.

“i don’t need you.” you get out of his grip and he doesn’t stop you.

once you are out of sight, you let all the tears fall.

you don’t know what time it is, but you still hear the music echoing. sighing, you roll on your back ready to go back to sleep when you hear what woke you up again. you can barely hear the thud coming from outside the dorm and the first thing that comes into your mind is that one of the girls is trying to open the door but is too drunk to do it, so you get out of bed.

there is, indeed, someone drunk behind the door. but this person has silver hair and blue eyes that, you are sure, look into your soul.

you suddenly remember you cried yourself to sleep and if he weren’t too drunk he’d notice how red your eyes are.

“what are you doing here, aemond?” you ask, helping him to his feet and inside your dorm.

“why do you hate me so much?” he drags the words, and you can smell the whisky every time he opens his mouth.

“i don’t hate you, silly.” you couldn’t help but laugh, carrying him to your bed. “maybe i do hate you a little bit right now. how much did you drink?”

“don’t know, lost the count.” he smiles while looking at you. “would you lay down with me?”

“okay, jus’ let me take off your shoes.” he keeps staring at you while you help him get rid of his jacket and shoes, he even smiles every time you make eye contact.

once you’re lying on your bed again, aemond turns to you. “why were you crying?” it doesn’t surprise you, really, he’s always been extra observant.

“i had a bad migraine.” you shrug, avoiding his gaze. but his slender fingers on your chin make you look directly at him. you try to steady your heart, pounding in your chest so hard you know he can hear it.

“yea’ right.” aemond mocks you. “after that pill i gave you this morning there’s no way you still had it.”

“maybe it wasn’t as effective as you thought.”

“would you stop for a second?” he grimaces, bringing his hands to his temple. “i can’t think straight and you already have my mind going in circles.”

“what does that mean?”

he sighs, caressing your cheek. “you don’t even notice.”

“notice what?” you ask, confused. he’s drunk and talking nonsense, and having him so close to you isn’t helping.

“that i’m—” he whispers, not breaking eye contact, air tick between the two of you. a part of you hopes his next words are the ones you were dying to hear for so long. you also hope you’re not dreaming when you see him lower his gaze to your lips. you’re extra aware of the proximity, you feel his breath on your face, combination of alcohol, cigarettes and just aemond. he parts his lips and you instantly close your eyes. “m’going to be sick.”

“what?” you open your eyes only to miss his warmth.

aemond rushes to the bathroom, face pale. you know he’s throwing up before you even get out of bed, and it doesn’t take long for you to be by his side.

aemond whines when you try to get closer, a wet cloth in hand. “don´t.”

“i’ll always hold your hand, aem.” you whisper, reminding him of the words he’s said to you a bunch of times. when you get closer again he doesn’t say anything and just lets you do your thing. “this is goin’ to make you feel better.” you say quietly, filling a glass of water and kneeling beside him.

aemond groans, resting against the wall behind him. you do the same. “you know,” he turns his head to you. “you are really, really pretty.”

your cheeks go red immediately and you know aemond notices that too, so you try to look somewhere else but his hands on your jaw don’t let you. and so you find yourself looking straight into his blue eyes, full of something you can’t figure it out. but he stares at you for a long time, or maybe it's just seconds, but you feel like he spends hours smiling at you with his eyes slightly closed, like you’re going to vanish if he stops and leave him there on the bathroom floor feeling pathetic.

“and you are really, really drunk.” your voice is barely a whisper, still looking at him.

“you don’t believe me? you don’t believe me.” he shakes his head, the smile growing. “you’re so oblivious.”

“m’not!” you complain, pulling his hand away.

you really don’t know what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t need to know that. he also does not need to know you’re feeling those familiar butterflies in your belly, the ones that appeared the first time he held your hand, leaving your entire body tingling.

“i should kiss you right now to see how oblivious you are after.” aemond says casually, as if he didn’t just say what you think he did.

“wh—what?” this time your eyes are fix on the bathroom floor; the tiles are more interesting than his eyes. oh but you know if you look at him again you’ll be completely lost. you know he’s drunk and saying things he doesn’t really feel because he doesn’t feel that way about you, right? suddenly, your eyes are on him again. “don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“but i mean it.” his eyes dart to your lips. when he looks up again, he realizes he’s been caught. “do you want to kiss me, sweet girl?” aemond moves closer, his face inches away from yours. of course you want to kiss him, you’ve been dreaming of it for years, and even in those dreams, it didn’t feel this surreal.

“why don’t you ask me again when you’re sober?” you shake your head, a smile making its way on your face. “and your breath stinks, by the way.”

aemond laughs, resting his head on your shoulder. your heart skips a beat because he doesn’t say anything, and when you are going to speak again not knowing exactly what to say but wanting to hear something from him, anything that could tell you how he really feels, aegon appears in the doorway.

“hey, lover boy, it’s time to go.” he kneels in front of you and his brother just groans, hiding behind your hair and inhaling your perfume.

“you smell nice.” the smile on his face is one of drunkenness.

and when you witness how aemond can barely stand, your heart breaks into tiny pieces. maybe aemond was just drunk, maybe he just wanted to kiss you because you were the only girl with him. you weren’t aemond’s first choice; you were his last.

you wake up feeling a little optimistic. you don’t know if aemond really meant what he said, but you are ready to face whatever his words may be, even if those words break your heart.

none of your friends are in the common hall when you go downstairs and, in all honesty, you don’t want to look for them, there's only one person in your head and you’re going to find him before all bravery leaves your body.

you are smiling widely when you step into the great hall, familiar faces sitting at the table but not the one you’re looking for. your smile falters when you get closer to your friends, all of them laughing and talking about the party last night. maybe he’s still asleep, maybe you’ll grab some food and bring it to him. maybe you could do that if he wasn’t sitting next to alys rivers at her table.

tears fill your eyes as you hear helaena’s voice calling your name, but all your attention is on aemond and the smile adorning his face. all you can hear before running out of there it’s his laugh. of course he wasn’t thinking straight, what were you thinking? he’s so charming and handsome, always helping others, always smelling good, always flirting with pretty girls in the hallways, always enjoying his popularity. he’s tall, agile and strong, smart; of course he needs a girl that can match with him, his needs. and you’re not that girl. you’re not popular, most of the time you are running late to classes, asking help from others, you don’t do sports and it shows, it’s a miracle if a boy flirts with you and if a boy does it, most of the time it’s because him or his friends want you to introduce them to your girlfriends. you are not that pretty either, you have bags under your eyes, you barely do make up and your hair is a disaster. what could aemond targaryen possibly like about you?

you barely make it to the stairs leading to your dorm when a hand grabs your wrist, heavy breathing behind you. “wait!”

“sorry, i forgot something,” you say quickly, wiping your tears with your free hand. “i’ll be back in a minute.”

he lets you go and you run to the stairs, before his words stop you. “i was really drunk las’ night, wasn’t i?”

“yes.” you say with a bitter laugh.

“shit— i think i threw up in your bathroom.” he laughs, and you hear his footsteps getting closer. “sorry ‘bout that.”

“it’s okay.” you smile even though he can’t see your face. “i need to grab this thing before class, you know how profess—“

“i’m sober now.”

your heart stops beating, everything around you stops. did you hear him right? you don’t dare to move, you can’t.

what could aemond targaryen possibly like about you?

“but i saw you with al—”

“she’s barely a friend.” he explains. “i don’t know if what you said last night was because you didn’t know how to reject me,” he starts saying, moving closer and closer to you. “but i’m here anyway. i can’t hide what i feel inside me anymore.” and that’s when you turn around.

he’s a few feet away, fidgeting with his hands and looking at you with that same something you saw last night.

“i’ve loved you since the first time i saw you. when—”

“when we met on second year.” you interrupt him, cocking your head to the side. of course you remember, because the letter you got from your parents that year was the reason your whole friendship started. you just can’t believe what you are hearing. now the tears streaming down your face have a different reason, one you did not think was possible.

he smiles sheepishly at you. “no—that was not the first time i saw you.” he scratches the back of his neck, meeting your gaze. “i saw you the first day of school, on the train. you were sitting next to baela and i remember thinking ‘god, i’ve never seen such a beautiful girl before’” he takes one step forward. “i remember thinking i was seeing an angel.” he chuckles, his face red and eyes glistening. “i’m seeing one right now.”

you can’t see due to the cascade coming from your eyes, you try to wipe it, only for them to be replaced with more tears. you didn’t think you could smile this big, to feel this happy, to feel this loved.

“i remember seeing you in classes, in the hallways… always so pretty.” he takes another step, this time only looking at your eyes, not fidgeting with his hands, not uncertainty in his words. “i was a silly, silly boy back then and didn’t know how to talk to you, so when on second year you got that letter,” he looks shy, his eyes meeting the floor. “i took it and convinced the boys to persuade our parents to stay. i wanted to stay with you, i wanted to see you smile again and—when i saw the smile you gave me, it was all worth it.”

you rush to him, face wet and blushed, and a heart beating so fast you think it’s going to explode. locking your arms around his neck, you softly press your lips to his in a kiss full of unspoken words, full of passion and love and tenderness. you are both crying and it’s wet, but oh so perfect.

“you love me?” you ask, smiling with teeth. you have never been so happy before, you have never felt so safe in someone’s arms as you feel in aemond’s; you have never felt so in love with aemond targaryen as you feel right now.

“i am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you.” aemond murmurs, lips curled in a grin, arms around your waist making you feel those butterflies you’ve experienced through the years once more.

“and i am hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you, aemond targaryen.” you say softly, caressing his cheek. a new set of tears already falling down your face. “always have been.”

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Your writing is so genuine! And so brilliant. And I love that you’ve taken up writing for Kate! I hope you’ll do more! Perhaps like the fake marriage thing, but the reader asks Kate in a rush to be her fake girlfriend at this reunion she’s going to, and like the fake marriage fic, she’s kind of desperate? Because her old classmates thought she’d be nothing?

Thank you! I hope you like this one too!

“Shit.”

“Problem?”

You looked up from your phone, the email on the screen glaring up at you like an omen you hadn’t prepared for. With a look of concern, Kate was looking at you over the top of her computer. You’d paused on your way out when the notification had come up on your phone, juggling with your bag to not drop the phone. Now, you were frozen, looking at her, not wanting to admit to your boss what a loser you were.

“Kind of,” you said, “not really. It’s fine.”

“You don’t sound very sure about that,” she said.

“My school reunion is tonight and I forgot. I’ve been so focused on that project with the lasers that it slipped my mind,” you said, hoping that would end there.

“Do you have time to get there?” she asked.

“I do. Unless you need me to stay late,” you said, seeing a perfectly acceptable way to get out of it.

“No, no, you go have fun.”

She must have seen something in your face because she stood, approaching you with a raised eyebrow. You’d spent enough time with her over the years to know she was seeing more than you wanted her to. Sometimes being friends with your boss had its downsides.

“Unless you don’t want to go,” she said.

“It’s not that,” you said, “it’s just always a bit awkward to go to these things alone. And I can’t talk about my job because.” You gestured at the whole building as the concept of confidentiality, “so it’s not exactly conducive to these sorts of things.”

“But you want to go?” she asked.

You didn’t want to outright lie to her. Which might explain why the most insane thing came out of your mouth next.

“I don’t suppose you want to come with me, do you? Just pretend to be my girlfriend for the night?”

You immediately felt your skin heat and you shook your head. Embarrassment was a heavy drug and you felt the need to just turn around and walk away rather than deal with the consequences of your request. Running away was always an option. 

“Never mind, that’s stupid. Ignore me,” you said, immediately trying to move past the moment. 

“I’m confused why you want me to go with you,” she said, “unless it’s just the fact I’m the only one here.”

You squeezed your eyes closed, not wanting to face her. Your heart was fluttering in your chest and your stomach was roiling with panic. It had all gone wrong so quickly, and you hadn’t even shown up to the reunion yet. 

“Because if I could pull a woman like you then I would have proved them all wrong,” you answered. 

You hadn’t wanted to tell her exactly how the other students had thought of you in school. The absolute derision you’d faced on a daily basis. The way the opinion of your classmates had sunk into you until you’d begun to believe it. 

“Wrong about what?” she asked.

“Let’s just say that the other students didn’t think much of me,” you replied, not willing to go into all the nuances of your time at school.

She considered you a moment, those dark eyes sweeping over your body before settling on your face once again. You shivered, not wanting to admit what it did to your already turbulent heart. 

“Alright then, but we’ll have to stop by the wardrobe department on the way out,” she said.

“What?” You couldn’t quite let yourself believe what she was saying.

“I’ll go with you but I think we could both use an outfit change. No one will be impressed by either of us dressed like this,” she said. 

You trailed her into the lift, still not quite able to believe what was happening. Kate was going as your date to your school reunion. The woman you had spent too much time fantasising about to be professional was going to pretend to be your girlfriend for the night just to get back at your classmates for being mean to you when you were a teenager. 

Pushing into the wardrobe department, set up after one too many undercover operations had ended in disaster due to bad shoes, Kate turned to look over you again. She strode off, expecting you to follow. You did, unable to do anything else.

She handed you a dress from a rack, eyes sweeping over you again. You took it, unsure what you should do. 

“Go on,” she prompted, hands gently nudging you towards one of the changing rooms at the back of the room. 

You did, slipping the silk over your body. Staring in the mirror, your eyes travelled over your body. The dress clung to your curves, highlighting you in a way you were unused to. Just the feeling of the material against your skin felt decadent, more expensive than your usual clothes. 

“Are you dressed?” she asked.

“I’m not sure about this,” you called to her. 

“Just let me look at you,” she said.

You stepped out of the tiny room, staring at your bare feet. You couldn’t meet her eyes, not needing to see the censure in her gaze. 

“I don’t know what you were talking about. It’s beautiful on you.”

You looked up, finding her focused solely on you. Your cheeks heated as you shifted your weight from foot to foot. Abruptly, she nodded, passing over a pair of heels to you. 

“You’ll do very nicely,” she said.

“Aren’t you-” 

Your words cut off as you looked at her properly. Gone were the navy slacks and the military inspired blazer. In their place was black trousers, black jacket, a white button up that was unbuttoned daringly low. Cleary you’d spent more time staring in the mirror in disbelief than you’d thought. And clearly she was trying to kill you. 

“Come on, you can return the clothes on Monday,” she said.

She grasped you around the elbow, offering you stability as you balanced while putting on the heels. Your hand grasped her shoulder, her warmth seeping through the layers of her clothes. If you didn’t look at her, she couldn’t turn your brain to mush. But then her hand came up, unclipping your hair until it fell around your face. 

“Much better,” she said.

She was so close to you, those brown eyes softening as they traced over your features. Your breath left your chest and you were frozen under that gaze. Her fingertips brushed over the apple of your cheek before she stepped away. 

“You look lovely. Now shall we get out of here?” 

“Okay,” you said, trying to ignore the swoop in your stomach. 

Her hand on your lower back led you away, to her car, opening the door for you like a proper gentleman. You slid into the dark interior, doing your best to settle your heart. It had been a stupid idea to ask her to do this for you, a moment of desperation asking for a fantasy you’d never allowed yourself to voice. 

Tonight was going to destroy you in one way or another. 

Sitting in the darkened cab of her car, the air felt too close, the walls pressing in. You were trying not to look at her, staring out the window, but you were so aware of her. In your peripheral vision, you could see her toss her blonde hair out of her eyes, not wanting to stare at her. It would be so easy when she looked that good. 

She parked the car before you had the chance to come to terms with the situation you’d found yourself in. You stared out the windshield. The silence stretched. 

“We could always turn around and get dinner somewhere instead,” she said.

“What?” You turned to look at her.

“You don’t have to go in there,” she said, “nothing is stopping you from leaving now.”

“It’s not that simple,” you said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because,” you said, knowing you had to say it so she could understand, even if you hadn’t ever wanted her to know this about you, “I need to prove them wrong.”

Her hand reached out, resting against yours clasped in your lap, fingers twisting together almost painfully. You let them relax under her touch, trying not to do any damage before you’d even got started. 

“I know I shouldn’t care about what a bunch of pricks said when we were teenagers but I can’t let it go. They made my life hell and I want to show them they were all wrong. That I’m something now. That my life is worth something,” you said, your words spilling out your shame into the silence for her to consume. 

“Of course your life is worth something. Anyone who made you feel otherwise is so very wrong,” she said, sounding fierce enough to have you flushing.

“You have to say that. You’re my fake girlfriend,” you said.

She smiled at your weak joke, her pity unwelcome when you were trying to lighten the mood. Her hand squeezed yours, leaving you feeling like you should have kept your mouth shut. 

“Just forget I said anything,” you said, tugging your hands out from under hers. 

“No. Hang on.” Her fingers curled around your arm, keeping you from pulling completely away, “what just happened here?” 

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m all over the place tonight,” you said.

She considered you for a moment. You couldn’t look her in the eye, just needing the night to be over. Then you could slink away and curl up in bed and wallow until your self pity turned you into a disgusting heap of viscera. 

“Come on, let’s go show everyone what an amazing person you’ve grown up to be,” she said.

You slid out of the car, the cool night air enveloping you. Her palm slid along yours, fingers tangling with yours as she fell into step beside you. It was so warm and steady, and yet just that touch was making your knees feel like jelly. 

You had to get a grip on yourself. 

The hall was lit like a dimly lit wine bar, the kind of trendy place you’d never found yourself in. Although, you could easily imagine Kate there, sharing a drink with someone, leaning into them in the intimate atmosphere. You stopped imagining that scenario pretty quickly. 

“Wine?” she asked.

“What?” There was no way she could read your mind, was there?

“There appears to be an open bar,” she said, “red?”

“Well, if there’s an open bar, I might have something a bit stronger,” you said. 

You ignored the people around you, making a beeline for the bar, your hand still firmly in Kate’s. You passed Kate a glass of wine, fingers brushing together. Without thinking about it, you took a drink from your double whiskey, the burn of alcohol going through you. 

“Right, is there anyone you were hoping to talk to?” she asked, turning to look at the room.

You’d mostly ignored everyone in the room as you’d hightailed it to the bar. Turning now, you wished you still could. Just the thought of approaching someone made you want to throw up. 

“Let’s do a lap,” you said.

Her fingers tightened around yours, surprisingly making your heart calm a little. You looked up at her, finding her eyes so kind when they gazed down at you. You found yourself leaning into her, her warmth giving you comfort as you took a turn about the room. 

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’ll let you know once I have an answer,” you replied.

Her smile was soft and for the first time you didn’t feel silly for your anxiety. You let out a long breath, turning back to look at the faces around the room. They were familiar, if different. Time had changed everyone, and yet it was like being a teenager again, going to assembly, surrounded by your peers. 

“No way.”

You cringed at the voice, loud and jarring in the space. Turning, you almost flinched back at the blonde woman looking at you, a grin on her face. Perfectly curled hair, makeup that had definitely been applied by a knowledgeable hand, clothes that cost more than your entire wardrobe put together, you knew exactly who was looking at you. 

Elizabeth Hartmore had made your life a living hell. 

Your name sounded venomous on her tongue, the delight she took activating your flight or fight response. Kate’s hand squeezed yours but you had no words for her. You regretted ever coming.

“Diane and I had a bet going about whether you’d show up. She thought you’d never show your face here but I know you better than that,” she said, those knowing eyes practically seeing inside your soul, finding every weakness you had, “looking for a handout? Or are you hoping to use one of us to give you a leg up after failing on your own?” 

“I haven’t,” you tried to say before the words died on your lips. So much for proving them wrong. You couldn’t even get a sentence out.

“What was that?” Diane asked.

“She’s hardly a failure,” Kate said, helping where you couldn’t, “if anything, she’s rather successful.”

“And you are?” Elizabeth asked.

“Kate Stewart, Commander in Chief of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” she replied, “and the very lucky woman who gets to call this one mine.” 

She untangled her fingers from yours, holding her hand out to Elizabeth to shake. She did so, her eyes sweeping over Kate, presumably taking in her entire being, the easy confidence which she inhabited her own skin. Kate slipped an arm around your waist rather than return to holding your hand, warm and heavy and so present. Her hand rested on the swell of your hip, almost proprietary. Your heart tripped over itself. Having her so close was doing all kinds of funny things to you. 

This had been such a bad idea.

“I’ve never heard of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” Elizabeth said.

“No, I don’t suppose you would have,” she replied.

You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep from smiling. The absolute disdain Kate had managed to infuse in those seven words was a thing of beauty. Her arm tightened around you until you were nestled against her. 

“I hope you know she’s just trying to ride your coattails,” Elizabeth said when she had no other comeback. 

“She stands rather well on her own two feet,” Kate said, still so calm.

Her lips brushed your temple and you startled, not having expected it. Her chuckle was warm, fond, familiar from late nights and shared car rides. 

“Don’t you, darling?” she asked, looking down at you, warm brown eyes sparkling as her lips pulled up into a smile.

“I do alright,” you replied, finding yourself breathless.

“They’d be lost without you,” she said and you knew she was putting how she felt as your boss into words. Your cheeks heated, the praise doing something funny to your stomach. Her lips tipped up into a smirk and you cursed her for being too good at this.

“Kate,” you said, not really sure where you were going with it.

“I’d be lost without you,” she said, her voice low enough to make the conversation feel intimate. It was like she’d forgotten the other two were even listening, but surely she couldn’t have. The whole point of her being there was to prove them wrong about you. It had to be fake. 

But the way she was looking at you felt all too real.

“What do you even do?” Elizabeth asked, breaking the moment. 

“I’m a scientist,” you said, barely thinking of the words, still caught in the way Kate was looking at you. Like you were something precious. Something to be coveted, “a physicist.” 

She scoffed. 

“A rather bloody good one, too,” Kate said.

Your lips curled up into a smile. Her hand squeezed your hip and a shiver went through your body. You watched as her gaze dipped down to your smile, lingering longer than was necessary before making its way back up to your eyes. Your breath caught and you felt her go still, her body pressed against yours from how tight her arm was around you. 

In that moment it stopped mattering if she was pretending to be your girlfriend. It stopped mattering that this was all meant to be making a point. It stopped mattering what those girls thought about you.

You knew who you were and those girls didn’t matter to you at all. But Kate did. Kate mattered a whole lot.

“Come on,” you said, “let’s go.”

She quirked an eyebrow at you, but didn’t argue. You placed your glass down on the closest surface after draining it, sliding your hand back into hers, and leading her back out the door you’d come in. Twenty minutes in there had been enough. You had your answers, and they were that it didn’t matter anymore. You were happy, and you loved your life, and it didn’t matter what a couple of sad women thought about you. 

Besides, Kate thought highly enough of you for all the rest of them not to matter.

“That was rather quick,” she said as you stepped out into the cool night air.

“How about that dinner now?” you asked.

She stopped, forcing you to follow suit lest your hand pull out of hers. The warmth of it was the only thing tethering you right now and you liked the feel of it in yours. The way she was looking at you was full of confusion.

“What has gotten into you?” she asked.

“You were right. I don’t have to be in there and defend my existence to those people. They don’t matter to me, so why should their opinions? I’d rather go have dinner with a beautiful woman who likes my company and cares about me enough to go through this charade,” you answered. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” In the dark, you couldn’t be sure but you thought you saw a flush on her cheeks.

“Of course,” you said, “you’re one of the most beautiful people I know.”

Sometimes stating the truth was more simple than avoiding it. And in that moment you felt fearless. Your earlier epiphany was still buzzing in your veins and you felt invincible. 

“That’s rather flattering,” she said.

“Some facts are fundamental truths of the universe. That’s one of them,” you said.

“Bloody hell,” she laughed, “what are you doing to me?” 

“Sorry, I thought I was being clear. I’m asking you on a date,” you said, “for tonight, somewhere nicer than my school reunion.”

She blinked, as if you’d said something completely out of turn. You tugged her closer, your hand still connected to hers. She went easily, approaching you even as she seemed to not understand what you were saying.

“Kate, I think you’re wonderful. If you don’t want to go on a date with me, that’s fine. But cards on the table, I like you. Quite a lot in fact. And maybe I’m ruining our friendship, but all night I’ve been going out of mind because it turns out I quite like being your fake girlfriend,” you said.

“You do?” she asked, voice faint as if you were overwhelming her with information.

“I like you touching me. I like people thinking I’m yours. I want to be yours,” you said.

“Oh fuck it.”

With her hand in yours she pulled you to her. Her free hand curled around the back of your neck and then she was kissing you with a desperation that had you breathless. You melted against her, submitting. Her teeth nipped at your lower lip, tongue soothing over it before you opened to her, tasting wine and something that was specific to her. You moaned, your hand sliding around her waist, pressing closer. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging until you were nothing but a puddle of desire. 

Someone in the distance wolf whistled and you were sharply reminded that you were in the parking lot of your old high school, snogging like a teenager with your boss. You drew away, not far from her, still sharing air as you tried to catch your breath. Her eyes were molten, gazing on you, the flush obvious on her cheeks from so close.

She’d managed to kiss the words away from you. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, uncertainty filling your chest as the silence dragged on. Her eyes slipped down, focusing on your mouth, eyes darkening as the moment stretched. 

“Kate?” you whispered.

“Yes, darling?” she asked, voice deep, almost raspy.

“Is that a yes to dinner?” you asked.

“It’s a yes to all of it,” she said, “it’s a yes to you.”

Your lips brushed hers in another kiss, softer, sweeter, lingering when you knew she wasn’t going to push you away any second. Her warm hand cupped your cheek, holding you close, gentle with you. You let out a long breath once you pulled back, almost a sigh, eyes fluttering open.

“I’m yours,” you whispered.

“Then shall we get out of here?” she asked.

“Please,” you said.

And take you out of there, she did. 

[ashleysmessyjourney]

17 Months Messing Update: I Wore a Butt Plug to Christmas Dinner

I had held a poll on my Twitter asking if I should wear a butt plug to Christmas dinner. Needless to say, the results were overwhelmingly positive. While my followers had voted that I wear a large one, the one I had selected didn’t stay in all that well when I walked so I went with my next best option: the large Doc Johnson silicone plug. Its traditional shape made it simple to wear, and as it slipped inside of me to be held for the next few hours, I gradually grew accustomed to the weight and feeling of the plug nestled in between my butt cheeks. Even though I didn’t acknowledge it at the time, I felt comforted that I wouldn’t have to deal with any messy diapers at my family dinner because the plug would protect me.

In order to ensure that I had no messy accidents at dinner, I had been careful of what I ate in the few days leading up to the event, and in the hours before the event, I cleaned myself out with a few enemas. I prefer using the bag that you hang up on something with a long hose that goes inside you because I can just use water to clean me out. There’s something comforting about letting out a stream of water into my diaper in that manner because it gently reminds me that if I manage to hold on for even a couple of minutes, my strength will eventually falter and dwindle until I have no choice but to stop holding back the flood. Feeling helpless as I give in to my body’s needs and to the safety of my diaper really gets me going, especially as a comforting warmth weighs down the back of my diaper and makes it sag.

I prayed I wouldn’t have to feel that same sensation at my family’s dinner.

Before I left for my family’s Christmas dinner, I used a lube shooter to put a lot of lube inside my butt; if I had only lubed the toy before I pushed it in, it would have felt rather dry and would feel a bit uncomfortable after a bit. This method ensures that I remain comfortable at all times. When I arrived at the house, I made sure I looked presentable, that the back of my leggings and hoodie combo wasn’t covered in baby powder, and that my diaper was ready to go. I rubbed in the tapes for what felt like the tenth time in the last thirty minutes, almost as if it was a tool to reassure myself.

My family doesn’t know that I wear diapers all the time and I would prefer to keep it that way. I’ve always worn BetterDry around them and anyone else I don’t want to be in the know because they always start off so thin and discreet and that’s what I chose to wear that day. I can’t imagine what my parents would say if they found out that I was wearing a diaper, much less that I’ve been wearing them for several years at this point. 

Even though my family doesn’t come from much, my mother always likes to throw the biggest and bestest dinners on the holidays much like her mother did and her mother before her. I offered to help, knowing that it would put me at risk, but she declined as always; I know she takes great pride in doing it all herself. Dinner was nice. Everyone had a grand time, including me. I’ve worn around my family on countless occasions; either they don’t know or they aren’t saying anything about my diapers. Frankly, either of those options are good in my book. 

I tried to sit as much as I could because it helped me hide the ever-growing poof of my diaper. The drinks flowed just like they do every holiday at my parent’s house though I kept it to a minimum knowing that if I had a few drinks, I wouldn’t be able to drive for a while and I’d be walking with a waddle in no time at all. As the night wore on, I felt my inner thighs get pushed apart, little by little until it was really obvious to me that I needed to leave or change my diaper. I wanted to play it safe so I said my goodbyes and drove home.

When I got home, I hopped into bed and played with myself in my soggy diaper, teasing myself with my vibrator as I rewarded myself for accomplishing what I set out to do. I felt so naughty wearing my pink plug around my family, talking to them normally as if I didn’t have 5 inches of silicone up my ass for hours on end.  You can add more time onto this timer by sending me books, diapers, and other gifts from my wishlist. Everything listed has a comment next to it that says how much time is added, too. Any support would be greatly appreciated!

Current ending time: April 19, 2025

Total Days Remaining as of January 6, 2023: 834 days which is 27.8 months which is also 2.28 years.

[crustless-toast]

Screaming Your Name

Here is Chapter 1 to Screaming Your Name! An Oc x Daryl Dixon story! I'm gonna really try to not make the story too cringy and if I am please let me know so I can fix it lol. I hope you enjoy it either way!

I'm a little new to posting on Tumblr so I hope to be able to link all the chapter together properly as I post them. Until then, Enjoy!!

Raven was like any normal person. She worked a boring retail job that paid close to nothing. Just to go home to an empty house, pay bills, eat and sleep. Nothing exciting really happened in her life. She was just different than the average person. She enjoyed the little things. She was more of a glass half full kind of gal. Always enjoying the little things in the world. Unfortunately, the world came to an end. She wasn’t the athletic type but when monsters are chasing you down to eat you alive the only thing you can do is run. Running is what led her to her new life with people she never thought would enter it. She found friends, family, and love. She learned to fight, to face her fears, and to keep pushing forward even through the dark times. Out of everything all she wanted was to get one man to open up to her more. To show him the good that was left in the world. For Daryl Dixon to see there is still hope in the world. That life is still good. 

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Gripping my blanket closer to my body, I shiver as cold sweats soak my body. I don’t know how much more I can handle this. My cold that I've had from the start of this, has turned into something much worse.

 What medicine I did have is gone. Finding medicine is close to impossible nowadays. A few Advil here and there, as well as a bag of cough drops can only get you so far. Everywhere I’ve looked has already been picked through. The more populated areas are hard to look through. Too many of the dead filling those areas. I can't look through them on my own. It’s close to impossible. 

The summer heat had no effect on my cold body. The warmth just feels like the blanket. The slight breeze just makes me shiver more. If it was a normal day in the old world, people would think I was insane having a thick blanket wrapped around me with the sun beating down on me. But in the old world I’d have medicine and I'd be fine in a few days.

The sound of the dead was behind me and there was nowhere to go. No place to hide. I looked around to maybe find something, but there was only an empty road surrounded by woods. I grip my knife, deciding my only option was the woods. 

My legs were getting so heavy. I was having a hard time staying ahead of them. I needed to keep moving but I had to stop. My throat was burning from the sickness and the heat. I need to stop and to drink some of my water. Quickly getting back up. The sun was starting to set and it was getting too dark to see. 

I was getting too tired to keep going. My eyes feeling like someone is pushing them closed. I drop my bag, dropping to my knees but I kept a tight grip on my knife. Taking deep breaths that end with me coughing. I covered my mouth with my blanket, needing to keep quiet incase any of the dead were near. 

I jump at the snap of a twig not that far from behind me. Looking around, seeing if there was anything up ahead. I didn’t see much, but there was something ahead of me. It was hard to tell what it was exactly. But what light was left I could see something reflecting. Like a window.

Grabbing my bag, I moved ahead, dragging my bag next to me. Not having the strength to pick it up. As I got closer, I could see it was a cabin of some kind right in the center of an open field. Abandoned before the world ended. 

Growling was behind me. Staying here was my only option. 

Throwing my bag on my shoulder, almost making me fall. I raised my knife and slowly made my way to the cabin. I head up to the steps of the porch, listening closly to see if I could hear anything. So far nothing. 

I closed the door behind me, locking it with its old rusty padlock and placed a chair in front of it that was close by. Moving forward once my eyes were adjusted to the darkness. There was another door in front of me that led to the other side of the cabin. I drop my bag, heading to the door to close it as well as put a chair in front of it. In case something comes in I could hear it first.

To my left looked to be some kind of dining room with a table flipped over and chairs thrown all over. As well as the kitchen that appeared to be cleared out with every cabinet opened wide.. To my right I think it was a living room. It was empty with only a couch that looked so comfortable. The livingroom appeared to have a small hall that lead to other rooms. Each was empty with nothing in them but some old furniture that was rusted and destroyed. 

Grabbing my bag I made my way to the couch. My body relaxed as I sunk into it. Not caring about the dust. Exhausted from having to run all day. 

Reaching in my bag I grabbed my water, but it was empty. Just my luck. I didn’t realize I drank it all already. 

My body was so cold. I could see the bottle shaking in my hands. I dropped it, not caring where it went. Gripping my blanket even tighter around me as I lay down, my knife still in my hand. Finally being able to rest my head on something that wasn’t a hard floor. I don’t care that I can feel the springs in the cushions. I was so tired and sick. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more. No matter how hard I fought it. I needed rest so I let myself sleep.

~~~~~~~

A loud bang woke me from my sleep, but I couldn't move. My body was so heavy. I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to see if it was one of the dead or not. I was still shaking to the point where it hurt even more. My bones are sore from, well, everything. My knife was no longer in my hand. I must have dropped it in my sleep.

I could hear footsteps getting closer to me. I opened my eyes just enough to see the sun was up, shining through the windows. A figure walked into the door frame. I can barely make out a man holding something. It was pointed at me. 

“You bit?!” The voice was stern, southern and loud. 

I close my eyes, not able to keep them opened any longer. “N-no. Sick.” 

“Sick, how?” 

My lips quiver as I try to speak, “Fr-from a cold. I-i had fr-from the begin-beginning.” 

“Is it just you?” He was demanding an answer. 

I nod, too tired to answer. 

I felt a hand being placed on my forehead. His fingers were cold and rough. 

“Ya burin up.” 

I grip my blanket closer, “So-so cold.” 

I hear things moving around. I couldn't tell if he was taking my stuff or looking around the place. I didn’t care either way. 

“My camp has a Doctor. ‘M take ya to him,” Before I could answer him, I could feel his arms snaking under me. He grabs my arm and places it over his shoulder. Picking me up from the couch. With my blanket still gripped in my hands, I wrapped my arms tighter around him. Scared to fall. 

“Gonna make me hot,” He says in my ears.

He started to walk. I opened my eyes enough to see who this man was. His face was a little dirty, with some facial hair around his mouth. His hair was short and filled with sweat. His eyes were sharp, looking at everything around him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. 

He looked down at me for a second, and his eyes were a sharp blue that when the sun was shining just right, it made them shine a beautiful sky blue. 

My eyelids were getting heavy again so I closed them and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and the morning birds chirping.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Is that Sophia?!” A women screams, waking me up just enough to hear whats going on around me.

“Nah, just some girl I found. She sick.” I hear from above me. The man that was caring me.  

“Bit?” Another man spoke.

“Said it’s some cold.” He held onto me tight as he got closer to the people

“Bring her inside. I’ll take a look at her.” 

I was still too tired to speak. I fell back into my deep sleep. To a place that was safe.