#angst

[mudtrash]

Took a few days but BEHOLD MORE NARI ANGST/WHUMP

Was thinking about trod Narinder being secretly in love with Lamb the whole time and the fact that Narinder most definitely has trust issue and fears of being mortal now

So with those two trains of thought combined, I wanted to explore… other hidden feelings he might have towards the lamb… 👀💧

Eat well, my flock, Cult of Nari Babygirls tm 🤲

[miaogo]

Reference: Las dos Fridas

More angst below

Cw: Blood/gore

I really like how this one turned out

[a-b-riddle]

cw: mentions of torture. Hurt/comfort. Wound aftercare. A lil bit of Kate Laswell OOC behavior. I don’t hate her I promise. It’s just for the plot of how out of character these men are acting.

I love the “reader is believed to be a traitor, but isn’t trope”. But what if there was a bit of a twist?

Price doesn’t wait for Laswell. When he hears that one of his own has been taken in for treason, he makes a fucking bee line to your cell with the rest of the 141 in tow.

They had been out on a mission when the news dropped about their favorite comms girl had betrayed them.

The couldn’t believe it.

They didn’t.

Which was why Price had laid his hands on a woman for the first time. Grabbing Kate by her shirt, demanding to know where the fuck the Shadows had kept you. The most heinous thing you did on the job is read those spicy little porn books that the boys loved teasing you about. But giving off classified information you didn’t even have access to? Price didn’t hold back as he called Kate every name in the book for her stupidity in trusting fucking Shepherd of all leads. Price telling himself this would he would never trust Kate again in allowing this to happen.

Which was why Kyle cool, calm and collected had acted brash and held a gun to the MP who was taking too long to hand over the keys to unlock your cuffs that kept you dangling from the ceiling. When John was still riding the adrenaline high from dealing with Kate, Kyle had taken the initiative to handle the situation. He knew you wouldn’t be the one to get the justice you deserve. Kyle was determined to everything in his power to do just that.

Which was why Simon had carried your broken body out of the room and into his own barracks. Laying you gently on the bed. Slipping out on going to the med bay, not trusting anyone else on this damn base to take care of what belongs to them. Offering you words of comfort as you cried in his arms. “Shhhh. It’s okay. We’ve got you. Not letting them take you from me again, Lovie. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Which is why Johnny had gently cleaned your wounds. Resting on his knees as he took care of the deep cuts on your feet and the slash on the back of your ankle. A punishment for trying to run away. A sliced ACL to ensure you wouldn’t try it again. Johnny had kept his anger at bay while taking care of you. Eventually getting your physical wounds managed before working on the rest. Johnny who crawls into the bed with you. Holding you close and letting you cry into his chest as he he rubs your back.

They couldn’t believe their comms operator would be capable of betraying them. Even if you did, they would get their pound of flesh a different way.

[hmusunoo]

「 FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE | L.HS 」 𐙚

pairings.ᝰ.ᐟ Heeseung x fem!reader synopsis.ᝰ.ᐟ You shouldn't love him. you were marrying his best friend for gods sake, but you couldn't help your feelings and on what's supposed to be the best day of your life it became clear that Heeseung couldn't help his feelings either warnings.ᝰ.ᐟ SMUT. mdni, reader and Heeseung are NOT good people, toxic relationships, betrayal, runaway bride trope, interrupting a wedding, cheating (don't like it don't read it) , fist fights, unprotected sex (bad) , oral male receiving, tit fuck, mirror sex, bathroom sex (multiple times) filthy to be honest. ft. Yunjin (le sserafim) and Belle (Kiss of life) heartbroken jay (I'm sorry jay ily) + more I'm probably forgetting about.

You shouldn't be doing this. It was terrible, it was wrong, it was so so wrong. How could something so exceptionally good be so erroneous. You couldn't help it, truly. Heeseung was your kryptonite and he knew it. In fact he was rather smug with the fact.

He currently had you bent over the vanity in the run down bathroom at the very venue you were meant to get married in as soon as tomorrow. This was your fucking rehearsal dinner and here you were fucking the best man, who is also your husband to-be's best friend. You were a terrible person doing a terribly impermissible thing. Something Jay would hate you both for, rightfully so.

Still the desire you felt in your veins for Heeseung was simply inextinguishable. The heat of your love burned too brightly to be put out. No matter how many times you had tried to stop whatever this was you couldn't. You always found yourself back together, him deep inside you for hours on end in the most outlandish of places. Bathrooms, cars, dressing rooms, closets. Anywhere you could get your hands on each other you did.

It started a random night when you and Jay had a big fight. Thinking your relationship was over you drowned your sorrows at the local pub near your house. Somewhere Heeseung had apparently frequented after stressful days of work. One thing lead to another and you ended up in the bathroom together, then you ended up in his bed for hours you were tangled up in one another not thinking of the repercussions of your more then distasteful actions.

The morning after when you woke up with a pounding headache and a memory that had made you sick to your stomach you cried for what seemed like days. Jay had called you apologizing near tears as he assumed you were cooling off at your best friend Yunjin's house. You and Heeseung swore that it was brief lapse in judgement and that it would never happen again, it would become something you took to your grave.

Until it happened again, and again, and again. Every chance you got. The sick feeling afterwards never really faded. The guilt of what the two of you were doing eating you up inside. Even then you didn't stop. Heeseung was like a drug, one that consumed your entire being.

You found yourself thinking about him at almost all waking moments. Even when Jay and yourself were being intimate you thought of Heeseung and the way he knew your body better than any man you had ever been with, including Jay. How he could get you to cum with a simple lick of his tongue on your clit. He was the best lover you've ever took to your bed. On top of all that he was the best friend you could dream of having.

While you had a more than stellar sex life with Heeseung you also had an amazing friendship, speaking until all hours of the night about any and everything. The conversations never grew awkward the moments never growing stale. Soon you found yourself falling in absolute love with him.

Leaving Jay was something you wouldn't even think about doing, It would hurt him way too much. The man had adored you, he treated you like a princess. You were the least deserving person of his love and yet you were terrified of being without him. What would your family think? Your friends? They would hate you, they would judge you.

Of course you and Heeseung had talked about running away together but it just wasn't feasible at the moment. In all honestly the thought of leaving was something you were running away from. You were too comfortable with your daily life and routine. The thought of starting over scared you. It was hard to admit that the thought slightly excited you too. The thought of being with Heeseung all in. No secrets, no hiding. Free to love each other out in the open, but it wasn't that simple and no one in your life would forgive you for it. No matter how tempting the idea was.

The night that Jay had proposed to you was a bittersweet one. You knew you had loved Jay but you also knew that you weren't in love with him. It hurt you more to admit that to yourself. When he proposed your friends and family were there, including Heeseung. Who had a smile that only you knew was fake on his face. He clapped like everyone else when you accepted but you knew the true turmoil circling in his head.

That was more than evident when he later pushed you into the bathroom of the fancy restaurant. Yanking your panties down and pushing into you in desperation against the wall of the bathroom. He had your throat between his fingers squeezing it like a vice as he muttered words of dominance in your ear. You were begging for him to give you some sort of mercy as his pace was Moree brutal than you had ever seen.

"You're mine" He grunted when he came inside of you for the second time in a row. His lips attached to your tits where you had to yank his head off so he wouldn't leave any marks. Something he was less than pleased about. He inserted his fingers in your heat pushing his leaking cum back into the hole that he had just abused. Ordering you to put your panties back on and walk around with the evidence of him all night.

When you had finally went home that night you faked falling asleep early with the guise of being exhausted from all the excitement of the day. You already felt dirty from having Heeseung's spend in you all night you didn't want to feel worse by sleeping with Jay that same night.

You knew how all this had sounded, you knew how it looked and still you continued and truthfully you had no intention of stopping.

"You're so sexy" Heeseung grunted from behind you. His thrusts were quick and precise. The wack of his hips against yours furthered the arousal coursing through you. "Taking me so good like a good little wife." His voice was firm as he whispered the words in your ear taunting you.

The white rehearsal dress you were wearing was bunched up around your waist, your panties hastily pushed down your legs for quick and easy access. Heeseung's tie crooked and hair disheveled from the heated make out session you were having only ten minutes ago.

"Hee" You gasped out griping the basin of the sink in your hands. "feels so good" You words were slurred as Heeseung continued his assault on your battered core. His grip on your hips tightening with every thrust and every slam of his hips.

"Yeah?" Heeseung smirked watching your face contort from the pleasure through the mirror in front of you. "Who's making you feel so good baby?" His breathing was heavy the words sounding more breathy than you were sure was intended.

"You" You whispered out, struggling to find the words he was chasing after.

"What was that?" He continued to taunt. His hand snaked around your neck squeezing lightly as he brought your mouth to his, hovering over your lips but not fully connecting them. You whined pushing your face forward in a feeble attempt at connecting your lips with his.

"No no" Heeseung tisked with a coo. "Answer my question baby..who's making you feel so good?" His tongue ghosted the outside of your lips grazing them in a tantalizing way.

"You" You gasped out "You Heeseung" You knew he was looking for his name to fall from your lips. His smirk all the evidence you needed to know that you had reached his target.

"That's right my love" He quickened his pace even faster knocking the air from yours lungs in the process. The thought of someone possibly looking for you had eluded you the moment Heeseung sank inside of you.

"I'm close" You heaved splaying a hand out in front of you on the mirror to better support yourself. "Right there!" You were chanting, your voice high pitched. You had only hoped and prayed that no one was walking past the bathroom at this very moment.

"Right there?" Heeseung cooed slamming his hips into you with one particularly hard thrust.

"Yes, fuck you're deep" Your legs started to tremble from the pleasure struggling to right yourself. Heeseung held you up the support from him more than appreciated because without it you were sure you would crumble to the ground a puddle of yourself.

"I'm going to cum" Heeseung emit's breathily. You pushed your hips back against his in an attempt to further his pleasure. You had a strong inclining it worked when the sound of his breath hitching in his throat was heard from his position behind you.

"Oh fuck, yes. Fuck me back. Just like that" His dirty talk was a catalyst to your orgasm the sound of his deep husky voice moaning in your favor tipping you over the edge of no return. Heeseung followed suit almost immediately after shooting his cum deep inside of you.

Taking a second to catch your breath you cleaned your head against the mirror welcoming the cold of the glass to help cool your heated skin. Heeseung slid out of you with a wince his sensitive cock soft and limp as he tucked it back into his dress pants.

"let me clean you up" Heeseung susurrated. The sex haze fading and the second of guilt that had always passed between you two came and went in a whisper just like it always did. Every time. This time it hit a little harder, the reality of where you were and what was to be happening tomorrow weighing on the both of you like dead weights. Your relationship with Jay wasn't something the two of you discussed often, it was sort of a taboo topic amongst you both. Almost believing that if you don't speak about the horrible thing you two were doing it would make it sudden less harrowing.

Of course that wasn't true and most days the guilt tears you up inside but you endure it, for Heeseung.

Heeseung took a piece of plush toilet paper and cleaned you up carefully like he always did after the two of you finished. He pulled the skirt of your dress down smoothing it out as best as he could as you looked yourself over in the mirror. Your makeup was slightly smudged from the kissing but other than that you had looked perfectly put together.

"Y/n I-" Heeseung's hand snaked around your waist readying himself to turn you around to look at him. He couldn't get the words out before he was being interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. The two of you jumping at the intrusion.

"Y/n?" Yunjin's voice bellowed from outside the door. "The dinner is starting are you ok sweets?"

"Y-yes" You stuttered out "I'll be right out, just nervous. Go save me a seat will you"

"Well of course there is a seat for you! You're the bride" Her cheery voice and the context of her wording had made you cringe. Heeseung as well given that he physical recoiled at the mention of you getting married tomorrow.

"I'll be right out!" You stifled again. You heard Yunjin give you acknowledged confirmation and walk off. The breath you let out was heavy. Looking over at Heeseung who had a detached look on his face, an almost sorrowful look.

"Are you ok?" You asked him, grabbing his face in your hands.

"Uh yeah" He cleared his voice "We should get out there" He ghosted his lips over your forehead breathing in, then setting thee lightest kiss he could to the area.

"You go first, I'll leave a few minutes after you." Heeseung detached himself from you looking at himself in the mirror one more time to check himself over.

You slipped out of the bathroom with ease. Most of the guest were in the dining area of the venue already getting ready for the rehearsal dinner that was to take place. You spotted Yunjin, your best friend and maid of honor sitting next to your other best friend and bridesmaid Belle. The end of the table held two seats. Intended for the bride and groom.

Gulping a big breath of air down you sat down next to Jay who was smiling at you awaiting your arrival.

"Hi" Jay whispered to you as you sat down.

"Hi" You whisper back sending him the hardest smile you could possibly muster. "Sorry, I was in the bathroom."

"Phew" Jay laughed jokingly wiping his forehead "and for a second I thought you fled out the window like a runaway bride" Your eyes widened a blush of embarrassment coating your cheeks. Jay's laugh rang through cutting you right in the gut.

You laughed a long with him not wanting to alarm him. You took his hand in yours squeezing it lightly ass a reassurance to yourself more than it was to him.

Heeseung stumbled into the room looking as proper and poise as he ever did. Your cheeks heated up once again, this time not in embarrassment but in arousal. Squeezing your thighs together to alleviate the want coursing through your veins for the beautiful man that was finally seating himself farther down the table next to a few of the other groomsmen.

You lifted your glass of water to your lips taking a sip to try and calm the ragging fire brewing inside of you, flashes of your earlier actions in the bathroom ceaselessly running rabid in your mind.

"Jenni said that she walked passed the bathroom and heard a women moaning Heeseung's name..sounds like he was getting busy with one of your skank bridesmaids" Yunjin said in a hush voice so that only you, belle and herself could hear it. You chocked on the water you were sipping on eyes widening. Jenni had heard you two? You couldn't have possibly been that loud?

"No way!" Belle squeaked "He's always so closed off.. he never wants to take women home. Trust me I would know, i've tried at least ten times for that man to take me to his bed." Her words had your teeth grating down on each other. That twitch of jealously rearing its ugly head.

It wasn't fair of you to be jealous, you were to be married. But the sheer thought of Belle, or any other woman for that matter in Heeseung's bed had made you sick to your stomach.

"I cant't believe he'd fuck someone here of all places" Yunjin said with a face of disgust. Your eyes wandered over to Heeseung who was in a conversation with Sunghoon. His smile wide as he discussed whatever it was that they were talking about. Your heart pounded in your chest at the mere sight of him happy and laughing away with his friend, for a second just a tiny little split second you imagined what it was like to be getting married to him tomorrow. The sight of you walking down the aisle in your dream dress, your heart racing to the end like it were a finish line and Heeseung was the raining trophy. A true prize to be won.

The sick feeling you felt just a second ago was replaced with butterflies, a burning in your heart that you only felt with him.

Your day dream was abruptly shattered when the sound of a knife on glass was heard around the room. Jay was clinging the wine glass to summon everyone in a toast. Your smile fell for the briefest second before it was forced back. Looking like the cheerful bride you were meant to be.

"I'd love to propose a toast to my beautiful bride-to-be Y/n you've made me the happiest man alive and I can't wait to marry you tomorrow and start my life with you by my side forever." Awe's of adoration rang throughout the room. Everyone taking in your dotting husband-to-be. Your smile was fake, the blush on your face would paint you as an incredible actor.

Your eyes flickered to Heeseung's for only a moment but in that moment you had seen the white sheen of his skin and his look of utter devastation. It had left you confused, and also panicked. You didn't want anyone to see Heeseung's expression and think anything of it.

Jay lifted your chin up with his finger breaking your brief eye contact with Heesseung. He landed a soft kiss to your lips, one you would have swooned over in the early days of your relationship with Jay. The knot in your stomach was wound so tight you felt as if your insides would burst at any moment. Spilling the contents of your affair everywhere.

"I love you" Jay whispered as everyone sat idly by watching what they thought was two people madly in love with one another. If only they knew the storm brewing inside of your head and the gaping hole in your heart the size of Lee Heeseung.

Later that night after the rehearsal dinner you had felt nothing but exhausted ready to get to your hotel room and sleep for the night. Considering what tomorrow was you wanted to get a good nights sleep, it would be a long day after all. Jay was upset that you had to be in different rooms for the night. It was very obvious to you and everyone else what he was intending on doing tonight if you two were to share a room together.

You said goodnight to Jay before beginning your walk to your room that you shared with Yunjin and Belle. When you were close to your room you were just about to open the door before you were being pulled into a maids closet across the hall from your room.

With a muffled screeched you whipped around trying to see who exactly pulled you into this dark fucking space.

"Its me. It's me" You heard Heeseung whisper out grabbing onto your upper arms to settle you.

"Heeseung! You scared the shit out of me!" You whisper yelled at the boy.

"Sorry baby I needed to see you" Heeseung's voice was strained almost like he was holding himself back.

"Are you alright?" You asked him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok its just.." He trailed off looking down at the ground almost in embarrassment. "After seeing you and Jay tonight it made me..incredibly territorial."

You arched a brow his way the ghost of a smirk making its way onto your face. 'Yeah?" You cooed toying with the belt loop of his dress pants.

"Wasn't it enough to fuck me right before that?" You were taunting him, riling him in hopes that he would defile you just the way you know he wants to.

"It's never enough" He growled pulling you closer to him by your waist. You were right up against him. His hard won prominent in his pants. It had you breathing heavier by the second, the want for him growing and growing. "I'm addicted to your tight pussy baby" His voice was a low murmur in your ear.

His breath fanning over the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spin. Heeseung grabbed at your asscheek giving it a rough squeeze as he attached his lips to yours with an animistic growl. "Mine" He grunted out. It was incredibly hot to see just how riled up and possessive he was for you. You'd be lying if you said you were absolutely dripping wet right now.

You were still wearing the rehearsal dress you were wearing earlier when he fucked you in the bathroom so grabbing his hand and placing it on your sopping wet underwear was no problem for you at all. "I'm so wet right now" You panted against his mouth as he continued to assault your mouth with his tongue.

"Fuck" He cursed circling his fingers over your covered core. "You are" He nodded at you, he lifted his fingers to his mouth and encasing them whole. He slurred up the juices just from your heat.

"Can I suck you off" You whined already working on getting his pants off and around his ankles.

"Y-yeah" Heeseung stuttered raking his hands through your hair. You dropped to your knees in front of Heeseung pulling his dick out of his pants.

Starting with small little kitten licks to the head Heeseung looked down at you with a dark glint to his orbs. His eyes were full of nothing but unadulterated lust for you. "Don't tease sweetheart..." He whined out yanking your hair just hard enough to show you how serious he was.

Finally deciding to put him out of his misery you attached your mouth to his cock taking him as far as you could bobbing you head up and down at a fast pace that had Heeseung's knees buckling underneath him. The rest that couldn't fit in your mouth you used your hands to please him with working him over like a starving whore.

"Holy-" Heeseung gasped out holding a hand against the wall beside him to stop himself from buckling under the pleasure of your warm, wet mouth. "That's it sweetheart. Can you take me deeper?" His voice was low and gravely a moan slipping out past his labored sentence.

You took his cock deeper in your mouth until you felt the tip hitting the back of your throat, with a gag you released his member to take a quick breath. You attached your mouth to his balls sucking on them as you continued to pump his member in your small hands.

"Fuck" His moans and whines were your driving force to further pleasure him even more.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth Hee?" You asked with a gasp reattaching yourself to his tip awaiting his answer.

"Your- f-fuck" He was struggling to form sentences his gasps and whines taking precedence over structural sense. "Your tits"

You smirked up at him, Tit fucking was a guilty pleasure of Heeseung's any and every chance he got to be wrapped around your tits he took it. If you had a penny for everytime Heeseung ask to cum on your tits you'd be rich. You really should have seen this coming.

You pulled the top of your strapless dress down revealing your perky breast to his hungry and wanting eyes. Heeseung licked his lips reaching his hand out to cup the underside of your boob circling your nipples between his finger and thumb. A low whined escaped your lips at the tweak of his fingers on your sensitive nub.

You took your two breath in your hands and squished them around Heeseung's cock encasing him fully. You started your rigorous movement up and down on him and a continued fast pace. Occasionally you would dip your head to lick the tip that poked out from between your breasts.

"Beautiful" Heeseung moaned "So beautiful baby" His hips stuttered at your movements. You knew he was close based on his labored breathing and the squeeze of his eyes shut. His thrown back against the wall of the closet.

"You close?" You asked shakily, Heeseung nodded his head fast returning his hands to your nipple playing with the nubs once again.

"So close baby" He moaned out "I'm fuck- I'm there" His thighs tensed above you and soon enough his cum was shooting up and all over your exposed cheat painting it white with his spend.

"Fucking hell" Heeseung sighed when you let go of his now soft cock. Giggling you dipped your finger into the cum that still coated your breasts sticking the finger into your mouth as you contained eye contact with the boy.

"God, you're something else" He laughed shaking his head in disbelief of you. Looking around the closet for paper towels to clean you up a comfortable silence fell over the two of you.

"Aren't the guys going to be looking for you?" You asked Heeseung as you wiped your chest clear of Heeseungs cum. You pulled your dress top back over yourself finally covered up once again.

"Nah, They were having a few drinks and I wasn't in the mood to hear Jay gush over you all night like you're his.." He trailed off looking over at you expectantly. You couldn't help but cringe at the suddenly awkward feeling in the room.

"Well..technically I am his Hee" It was a hard pill to swallow. One that Heeseung obviously didn't like the taste off very well.

"what if you weren't?" Heeseung asked grabbing your hands in his. "What if you didn't get married tomorrow" Never has he been so brazen about you leaving Jay. Sure, the two of you had discussed it many times and all times you came to the conclusion that it just wasn't possible.

Your friends and families would hate you and more than that jay himself would hate you. It was a tricky subject one you didn't like breaching often and Heeseung knew this. The fact that he was bringing it up the day before you were meant to get married was a little bit inconvenient.

You wanted nothing more then to be with Heeseung. You wanted a full and happy life with him, but in all honesty you didn't deserve it.

"He'll hate us Heeseung.." You murmured not looking him in the eye. You feared that if you did look him in the eye that it would be all the convincing that you needed, but you had to think realistically and it just wasn't an option for you.

"Every time I look at you I find it harder and harder to care if he would hate us. I find it harder and harder to find excuses as to why we can't be together. Every kiss, every touch, every time I'm inside of you I'm that much closer to shouting to the rooftops to everyone who will hear me about how much I love you Y/n." No one said being in love would be easy but you didn't know it would be this fucking hard either.

The words Heeseung was saying to you had made your heart stutter and your pulse quicken. Your resolve was crumbling and fast.

"I don't know.. She hasn't answered her phone and I've been calling her for like an hour." You heard a muffled voice right outside the door of the maids closet stopping all traces of the earlier conversation. It was Yunjin right outside your hotel door that was narrowly across from the maids closest you and Heeseung currently occupied.

"You don't think she got cold feet and ran do you?" Belle's voice was heard next shakily asking Yunjin the question no bridesmaid or maid of honor wanted to say on the day before a wedding.

"No, no Y/n would never do that." Yunjin said "She's probably just with Jay sneaking off somewhere, we'll give her until midnight before we call Jay and ask"

"So..in ten minutes?" Belle asked. You looked at Heeseung quickly your eyes wide as panic slightly set in. You needed them to go into the room or somewhere else so you could slip out of this god forsaken closet.

"Yes" Yunjin voice got a bit distanced and the sound of a door closing ceased all voices from the hallway. They had went into the room like you had hoped and now you had to make a dash for it if you didn't want to be caught sneaking out of the closet with Heeseung on your toes.

"I-i have to go" You rushed out to Heeseung giving his hands one last squeeze before you quietly opened the door to closet leaving him alone. He reached out to you but quickly slammed his hand back down. Letting you leave without another word.

You could do this, you could do this, you could do this. It's what you kept telling yourself over and over as the day slowly but surely progressed. Hair and makeup flawless, head piece neatly connected to your veil and dress as snug as ever over your body. You looked...exquisite. You looked more beautiful than you ever felt like you had before. But truthfully you had felt less than stellar. There was a heavy weight that sat in the bottom of your stomach the feeling making you sick all over.

You were getting married today, but you were marrying a man you didn't love. A man you haven't loved in a long time. It was tearing you from limb to limb, he had deserved so much better than you. So, so much better. You were a true harlet and nothing you did after this moment would change that fact.

You had spent so much of your relationship with Jay tangled up with another man, falling in love with another man. Even worse so that man was his best friend, a friend he had for years and years. You were that driving wedge between them. You were a horrible, disgusting person and it had taken you in a beautiful white dress getting dotted on to truly notice it.

"You ready sweets?" Yunjin asked you from behind you. Hands on your shoulders as she beamed lightly at you through the mirror.

"Yeah" You whispered averting your eyes away from the mirror and away from the prying eyes of your best friend. She looked happy and that had made you feel more poorly than you'd care to admit.

"Well it's time.." She squeezed your shoulders gingerly then turned around to gather the rest of the bridal party readying them to get into their positions next to their respective groomsmen.

You took a deep breath finally looking yourself win the mirror one last time before getting up to join your wedding party. You caught Heeseung's eye across the hall standing next to Yunjin as she talked everyone's ear off about the order and what to when they reached the end of the aisle.

Heeseung's stare was intense, it was a look you had never seen from him before. Like a mix of awe and sorrow. He clenched his hands by his sides flexing open then closed in what you could only assume was nervousness. He didn't say a single word but he didn't need to. You knew exactly what he wanted to say and you weren't quite sure if it hurt you or healed you. Hurt because this was it; you were marrying another man. Or healed because again, this was it and you were marrying another man and sooner rather than later this would have to end.

You hadn't accepted that fact yet and the realization hit you like a freight train going a hundred miles an hour. You didn't know if you were losing Heeseung tonight or if you were loosing yourself, It had felt like both.

The wedding music you had picked out started playing over the loud speaker signally the start of your forever.

Taking one finally deep breath you started you decent down the aisle. Jay stood at the end a smile on his face that had only made your heart crack wide open. You had to remind yourself to smile you didn't want to look how you felt and truthfully you were terrified. You were so terrified that you were making the biggest mistake of your life right now marrying a man you weren't in love with.

Once again your eyes flickered to Heeseung's for a split second. His gaze still on yours as if it had never left. It was still intense, still raw and still so full of emotion that it left your head spinning on its axis.

Once you reached the end of the aisle your hands found Jay's awaiting ones. You sent him the warmest smile you could muster as he whispered "You look very beautiful" to you. It furthered the sinking feeling in your stomach.

The officiant started his spiel not even a second later, your mind wandering to unforeseen places as he drowned on and on about love and bringing to people together in holy matrimony but you could not focus on a single word he was saying. Trying to calm the pounding off your heart as what seemed like a million eyes watched you. Could they tell you were falling apart at the seems? Could they seem the storm brewing in your head. Surely they couldn't pin point the dreadful look on your face, it was just nerves to them. You were just another nervous bride to them.

Finally the officiant declared to everyone in the room to speak now if they'd like to object or forever hold their peace. The room was eerily quiet the clock in your mind ticking and you found it screaming at you something you had never thought before. Heeseung say something! Say something please. The thought startled you but it came straight from your heart like a high jacker taking over your mind body and soul your heart was for once at the forefront of your being, finally In charge making the decisions for once.

Heeseung please..-

"Don't marry him."

You could hear a pin drop. The silence that followed was deafening. No one had believed it. You froze in your place your eyes shooting to Jay to watch his rigid body as he stared down...at Heeseung a mixture of confusion and rage written all over his face.

"What-" You cracked the silence.

"Don't marry him Y/n" He said again stepping down from the higher up podium the wedding party were on.

"Heeseung what the hell are you doing?" Sunghoon whispered yelled to him. Everyone watched in horror as Heeseung ignored him looking at you and only you.

"I can't stand here for more second and act like this isn't tearing me apart. Mind, body and soul. I'm not great with words Y/n. You know that but I think it's a rather simply thing to say anyway. I love you" Gasped were heard from around the room Jay's eyes wide as he stood unmoving watching the scene unfold in front of him.

"I love you so much that I'm willing to be the villain in every single persons story here, including yours. If that's what it takes for you to take my hand and run out of here with me." Heeseung held his hand out to you as you took a shuttering breath.

Reaching your hand forward to take it was all you intended to do, but before you could connect your hand with his Heeseung was sent flying back onto the ground Jay on top of him in a blur before you could even register what was going on.

"jay!" You shrieked out as the two boys tumbled over eachother throwing blow after blow. Sunghoon sprang into action yanking Jay off of Heeseung with as much strength as he could.

"You fucking bastard!" Jay bellowed pointing his finger in his direction.

"Y/n. What the hell is happening." Yunjin said from next to your her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion looking between Heeseung who was on the floor wiping his now bleeding lip and Jay who was being held back by Sunghoon.

"I'm sorry ok-"

"Fuck you! You just told my wife you love her and-and oh god" Jay turned to you his face red, tears sliding down his cheeks in a cascade. "You- you were going to take his hand"

"jay I-" You started with a stutter trying to gain your bearings but truthfully you didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry" You cried tears now falling down your cheeks too. "I didn't mean to hurt you but I-i lo-" He cut you off again, a furry in his eyes you had never seen before.

"Don't." He ran a hand through his hair puling at the ends. "Don't say you love him."

"But I do" You whispered defeated. "I love him Jay."

Heeseung those from the floor still wiping his bleeding mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. Not like he'd need it now anyway.

"How long?" Yunjin said from the corner looking at you. "How long have you been lying to everyone Y/n"

You looked to the floor with shame "Over a year"

"I can't believe this." Jay muttered "You've been sneaking behind my back for over a year?" You nodded, the tears still free flowing.

Jay shook his head again, turning to walk away his back turned to you and Heeseung he muttered "I'll never forgive you two. Never."

Your heart cracked in two at the sight of his shoulders slumped in defeat. Of the sight of the disgust from almost everyone in the room as they watched the scene unfold in front of them.

Yunjin picked up the hem of her dress making her way towards the direction Jay went. "Yun please" You called out in a whisper.

"No, Y/n." She seethed. "You ruined everything. I hope you're happy." The room quickly emptied itself everyone fleeing for the monstrous mess that was supposed to be your wedding leaving only you and Heeseung left to deal with the aftermath.

"I don't regret that." Heeseung spoke softly, being the first one to finally break the harrowing silence.

"I want to be with you" He took your hand in his cradling your face with his other palm. "No matter what Y/n I want to be with you."

"I do too." You said a single tear falling from your eyes.

"Lets runaway" He said, your eyes widening in shook at his brazen proposal.

"Marry me. and let's runaway." He titled your head towards his. His eyes completely attached to yours with an intense gaze you could describe as desperation.

"Ok" You said a small smile making its way on your lips "Ok I'll marry you" Heeseung picked you up in a blur spinning you around in his arms.

"Heeseung!" You giggled out as he placed you back on the ground grabbing your head in his hands, cupping your cheeks and attaching his lips to yours in the most vehement kiss you had ever had.

"Let's get out of here."

You didn't know where you'd go and what the future held for you. You didn't know if the people in your life would ever forgive you again, or if they'd even care that you'd left but all you knew was that your future was Heeseung and with that it couldn't be anything less then extraordinary.

ɾαιɳ'ʂ αυƚԋσɾ ɳσƚҽ!; omg. I'd like to make it abundantly clear that I do not support cheating in real life, this is purely fictitious so please don't scream at me. I'm sorry Jay ily! you deserve better.

ƚαɠʅιʂƚ!; @st1llm0nster , @belovedhoon , @blossommi

[delilahsturniolo]

never felt so alone - m.s

divider by @enchanthings ❕

in which: y/n gets back from a long and stressful day at work, causing her to completely snap at matt.

this story contains: resolved angst, fluff at end, crying, panic attack, small argument.

written by: @delilahsturniolo

____________________________________________

“the whole world would fall apart.”

“and i never felt so alone.”

I groaned in exhaustion as I walked up the steps of my porch. I messily grabbed my keys from my belt loop and unlocked the door, stumbling into the house.

I shut the door behind me and placed my bags down. I immediately trudged over to the living room, flopping face first into the couch.

My whole body hurt, I felt like collapsing from stress. I whined as my face was still in the leather of the couch. I picked up my head, checking my phone. Matt wasn’t home, all I needed was him and his comfort after a long day.

As if on queue, I heard the front door open. I didn’t even have the energy to get off the couch. I heard what sounded a lot like Matt’s footsteps walking into the house.

“Baby? Are you home?” Matt called out for me. I grunted and sat up slightly. “Over here..” I mumbled, my words slurring. I lazily sat up, leaning my head back against the couch as Matt entered the living room.

“Hi sweetheart.” Matt smiled warmly, he came over, kissing the top of my head. Matt flopped down on the couch next to me, his hand tangling in my hair.

“How was your day?” Matt asked me. I rubbed my eyes lazily, reflecting back on my day. My boss screamed at me, everyone was being annoying, I spilled my coffee in the morning and I had a ton of work. It was the complete opposite of what I wanted it to be like.

“It was fine.” I shrugged, lying completely. I scooted away from Matt slightly, not wanting his touch at the moment.

Matt only scooted closer, attempting to wrap his arms around me. “Are you sure? You don’t look oka-“ Matt began speaking, but was cut off by my voice.

I suddenly pushed him away from me a little harsher than I should’ve, completely losing it.

“I said I’m fine okay!?” I practically screamed, I didn’t mean it though. Matt’s eyes widened at my sudden outburst, he looked more confused rather than shocked.

“Woah woah woah…calm down baby.” Matt’s voice wavered, he tried grabbing my wrists but I immediately yanked them away.

I stood up from the couch, my eyes growing glossy. “Just leave me alone!” I expressed, storming off to my room.

I barged into my room, crawling into my bed and letting out a sob. Tears streamed down my face, I sniffled, burying my face into the pillow as I cried.

I was so exhausted, I was barely getting any sleep from my workload.

A few moments later, I eventually drifted off to sleep, tear stains were still present on my cheeks as my body trembled slightly. The house was dead silent.

I didn’t know where Matt was, but right now I didn’t care. I knew I had to apologize later though. I laid limply in bed, letting my exhaustion from the day wash away as I drifted off.

2 hours later…

Rain clattered against the window, lightning flashed outside. The sound of the storm was soothing, it somehow eased my tense body.

The door to my room creaked open slightly, Matt’s head peaked into the room. He sighed deeply as he saw me sleeping in the bed alone, clutching mr wrinkleton to my chest tightly.

He walked in, shutting the door behind him. He went up to the window and closed the blinds, turning on the lamp that sat on my side table, it casted a warm light throughout the room.

I felt the bed dip as Matt sat down on the edge of the bed, hovering over me.

He gently placed a hand on my arm, rubbing it up and down in soothing motions. “Sweetheart..” He whispered, leaning down to bury his face into my neck. He kissed the side of my neck a few times before speaking again.

“Wake up f’me baby..” Matt gently spoke, his voice soft. He shook my body lightly.

“Mmm?” I mumbled as my eyes fluttered open. “Matt?” I muttered, rubbing my tired eyes. Matt smiled down at me in a loving manner.

“Hey pretty girl..you okay?” Matt questioned, he gently moved my head into his lap, tangling his hands into my hair, gently massaging my scalp with his fingers.

I nodded, too tired to even respond. We stayed in the same position for a few minutes before I sat up straight, looking Matt in the eyes. “M—Matt?” I croaked, my voice breaking slightly.

His eyes immediately locked with mine. “Hm? What’s wrong baby?”

“I—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve never yelled at you.” My eyes grew glossy almost immediately, I felt a lump in my throat as I spoke. Matt’s gaze grew soft.

“It’s all my fault, I-I..” I could barely speak between my shaky sobs, my uneven breathing turned into small gasps of air as my body hyperventilated.

“Hey hey..shh, look at me y/n.” Matt insisted. gently cupping my face in his soft hands, forcing me to look at him.

“Breathe honey. I’m here, I’m right here. Not goin’ anywhere, alright?” Matt reassured me, he exaggerated his own breaths, in hopes i’d copy him.

I sucked in a deep breath, letting out sobs in between. “M—matt, I can’t..” I cried, he only shook his head.

“Yes you can, I know you can. Deep breaths, in…and out..” He maintained strong eye contact with me. He leaned into my face, gently pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hands moving to my waist.

I didn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss, my nerves immediately disappearing. My breathing eventually evened out, he pulled away from my face, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears.

“You with me now?” Matt questioned, taking my hand in his. He intertwined our fingers together, his thumb caressing the back of my hand in circles calmingly.

I nodded. “Thank you Matt.” I whispered, he smiled at me, his eyes filled with sincerity and concern.

“No need to thank me, baby. It’s what I’m here for.” He replied.

“And—don’t apologize either. I know you didn’t mean what happened earlier.” Matt assured me, I sighed.

“No no…that wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have reacted like that at all.” I shrugged, my hand moving up to Matt’s hair.

“It’s okay, I promise. You wanna tell me about your day?” Matt asked, his body relaxing in an instant as I tangled my hand in his brown hair.

“I don’t even know, it was so horrible. Everyone was being annoying, I was so incredibly pissed off and I have so much work to do..” I explained, Matt nodded in understanding.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish I could take all your pain away.” He whispered in a sympathetic tone, he gently wrapped me into his arms, hugging me like his life depended on it.

I hugged him back, nuzzling my head into his chest. His hands traveled from my waist to my shoulders, Matt gently squeezed them, beginning to massage them soothingly. This was all I ever needed to feel better.

“Let me run a nice, warm bath for you alright? I’m gonna take care of you baby.” He ran his hands up and down my back, before suddenly picking me up and carrying me to the bathroom, I squealed in happiness.

He set me down, laughing softly, he started the bath. He added a bath bomb and lit a candle for me.

“I love you so much, Matt.”

“I love you more, my gorgeous girl.” Matt kissed my forehead, as he began to slowly help me get undressed, he carefully took my hand and helped me into the tub.

I leaned my head back, relaxing and feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders as I washed the stressful day away, automatically feeling better having Matt by my side.

____________________________________________

comment on this post to join the taglist! 💌

________________________________

[luvlucia]

pillow princess - psh

summary: sunghoon loves the pillow princess that you are || warnings: dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, reader is a pillow princess, missionary || genre: established relationship, smut, fluff || word count: approximately 320 || a/n: see the request here!

Sunghoon had only learned about the term "pillow princess" online, having no clue about it before then, and he immediately knew, that was what you were.

It fits you so well. He was constantly in control whenever you had sex, doing almost, if not all, of the work. Meanwhile, you'd lay there, looking pretty as ever, taking it all.

Some people used the words "pillow princess" as a negative thing but he never thought of it that way. Not when it came to you. He liked being in control and having you just lay there, taking it. He loved seeing that beautiful fucked out expression on your face as you let out whines, whimpers, and moans that he loved oh so much.

Tonight was no different as you lie with your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you, his tip pushing past your cervix at this point. You were gripping onto his biceps tightly as he held himself up, continuing to move his hips, pistoning in and out of you.

As always, you weren't shy with your sounds, and he loved that. When you first started fucking, you definitely were, but over time, as you got more comfortable and as Sunghoon started to urge you on more, you'd gotten more comfortable with being louder during sex.

"Such a pillow princess. Isn't that right?" Sunghoon commented breathlessly as he continued to fuck into you, the both of you feeling your releases coming closer. "Laying there, taking it like the good girl you are." He said, groaning out as he hit a particularly good spot.

You whined out in pleasure as you felt yourself growing closer, his words only turning you on further. The truth was, you knew you were a pillow princess. Sometimes, you wondered if it bothered him but when he said stuff like this, you were reminded of the truth, that he fucking loved it.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[k-aay]

☆ "JUST A 'LIL BIT..!"

☆ SYNOPSIS : the jjk men get a littlleeee jealous of watching you fiend over your celebrity crush (part 1)

FEATURING : gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, megumi, yuji, inumaki

NOTE : just a note saying that I am absolutely crazy for all of these men :P also I know nothing about star wars other that Hayden is a little too fine

CREDITS! : this work is owned by @k-aay on tumblr. please dont steal my work! (i do not proof read, sorry for any mistakes !!)

[baelarys]

req!!

jealous aemond at their twin daughters or their other child nameday…when the reader be ask dancing with some lord. And BAM jealous husband moments…

𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨

Aemond targaryen x reader velaryon ¡Niece!

Word count: 3222

Warninig: Jealousy, fluff

Pt1,pt2 & pt3(I will continue with this dynamic until I die or you get tired hahaha because I love this little family, don't be shy and make more requests for whatever you want!)

Everything had to look impeccable, perfect like in a fairy tale, and you had worked hard to make sure it was so. The castle halls and gardens had been adorned with millions of flowers, each one carefully selected to harmonize with the colorful and majestic tapestries hanging from the stone walls. The servants had worked tirelessly under your watchful supervision, ensuring that not a single detail was out of place.

You had eagerly awaited this day, your princesses' name day, an event that brought together the most powerful Lords and Ladies of Westeros. The sun shone high in the sky, blessing the celebration with its warm light, while the tables in the gardens filled with delicate dishes and golden cups of wine.

You stood by the grand doors of the hall, attentively watching as the guests arrived. Elegant laughter and lively conversations filled the air as ladies in silk and brocade dresses gracefully paraded, followed by knights whose armor gleamed in the sun. The banners of the great houses fluttered proudly in the wind, each a reminder of the nobility and power gathered at your celebration. Every courteous gesture, every measured smile, and respectful bow reflected the harmony you had worked so hard to achieve.

Your daughters, Vaera and Vaerys, were the very image of joy and youthful pride. Clad in matching dresses, their golden hair crowned with flower garlands gleamed under the light. They walked confidently through the hall and gardens, their small steps filled with enthusiasm and curiosity, as if they were truly the mistresses of the place. The laughter of both mingled with the soft music accompanying the event, as they played carefree among the guests, who were quick to praise their charm and beauty. The attention they received pleased them immensely, their childish smiles lighting up every corner they passed.

Aerion, on the other hand, did not share his sisters' festive spirit. Since waking up, he seemed to carry a cloud of discontent that darkened his little face. He had not left your side all day, and his irritability became evident whenever you tried to step away for even a few minutes. As soon as you were out of sight, his cries echoed through the halls, a constant reminder of his foul mood. Your attempts to soothe him with sweet words and caresses seemed to have only a temporary effect, as any interruption of your presence turned him into an inconsolable baby.

The hour of the banquet had finally arrived, and you found yourself seated next to Aemond, who, despite his well-known aversion to such events, wore an expression of patient resignation, trying his best to appear comfortable in the midst of the celebration. The great hall was filled, with the royal family occupying the seats of honor. To your right, Queen Alicent exchanged solemn glances with her children, while your mother and grandmother, Rhaenys, and the Velaryons sat at the main table alongside your maternal relatives. The torches illuminated the room, casting golden reflections on the goblets and platters overflowing with delicacies.

You, for your part, tried to remain present, though your attention was divided between the banqueting bustle and Aerion’s persistent restlessness, still nestled in your lap. With gentle movements, you stroked his golden hair, trying to soothe him as the little one emitted soft sighs of exhaustion. It was a fragile, temporary comfort, as if at any moment the child's bad mood might resurface.

Suddenly, an unsettling feeling crept over you, as if a burning gaze was resting on your skin, piercing through the warm atmosphere of the hall. At first, you thought it was Aemond, watching you as he often did when he thought you wouldn’t notice. You turned your head slightly, expecting to find his one eye fixed on you, but to your surprise, he was engrossed in a whispered conversation with his mother, Queen Alicent. Their words were barely audible, but his concentration seemed complete.

Confused, you glanced away, discreetly searching the nearby faces. That’s when you saw him. It wasn’t Aemond watching you so intently, but Lord Donald Tarly, whose position at the table gave him a clear view of you. His penetrating green eyes were fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and something more—something difficult to decipher from across the distance. It was a gaze laden with intentions you couldn’t interpret at that moment but which undoubtedly made you uncomfortable.

The lord, heir to one of the oldest and most respected houses of the Reach, had only recently arrived at court after several campaigns on the western border. His reputation as a formidable warrior and strategist preceded him, and although his public demeanor had been impeccable, that insistent scrutiny from the other side of the room made you feel vulnerable.

Instinctively, you adjusted Aerion's position in your lap, using the movement to divert your gaze and cover up by appearing focused on your child. However, the discomfort remained. Lord Tarly's gaze was unyielding, as if he was waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

Aemond, despite his apparent detachment from the surroundings, noticed the change in your posture. "Is everything alright?" he murmured, his deep voice barely a whisper as he leaned closer to you, his expression unchanging. There was no need to explain the situation to him; his keen perception seemed to have sensed your discomfort even before you fully understood it yourself.

The banquet continued, with the atmosphere growing denser and more charged as the food came in endless trays of roasted meats, golden breads, and fragrant sweets. However, your attention was far from the feast. Aerion, still in your arms, was beginning to fidget, his heavy eyelids struggling against the sleep that wouldn’t quite come. His sisters, not far off, had started to sway in their seats, their eyes heavy with sleep after a day of games and excitement.

With a gentle gesture, you leaned toward Aemond. "I think it's time to put the children to bed," you whispered, watching as Aerion nestled closer to you, seeking the warmth of your body. Aemond nodded slightly, a sign of approval that needed no further words. With one last look at the hall, you carefully stood up, holding Aerion in your arms while summoning one of the maids to help with the girls.

You left the hall, leaving behind the growing clamor of the evening. The sounds of laughter and animated conversations were muffled as you walked away, and the echo of your footsteps resonated in the wide corridors. The torches illuminated your path as the girls, tired but obedient, followed closely.

You finally reached the children's rooms, where the maids had already prepared their beds. Gently, you placed Aerion in his crib, caressing his forehead with a tenderness only a mother could offer. His eyes, now almost closed, sought yours for a brief moment before surrendering to sleep. The girls, between whispers and soft giggles, were guided to their beds by the maids, who soon dimmed the lights and left them to their dreams.

Once you ensured that everyone was peacefully asleep, you paused for a moment to watch them. Aerion breathed calmly, and his sisters, wrapped in their blankets, looked as innocent and peaceful as the day they were born. You sighed, letting go of some of the tension you had accumulated throughout the night.

When you returned to the great hall, the atmosphere had changed dramatically. The festivities had evolved, shedding the formalities that marked the ceremonial dinners. Now, laughter was louder, wine glasses were raised more frequently, and the sound of music blended with the clinking of glasses and the rhythmic footsteps on the marble floor.

The center of the hall was cleared, turned into an improvised dance floor. Pairs of nobles, some visibly affected by wine, spun and laughed, their garments shining under the torchlight. The music, once soft, had come to life, with violins and lutes setting a livelier rhythm, suited for the occasion. The younger guests, those who stayed away from the stern gazes of the older ones, seemed to embrace the celebration with a freedom you had not seen earlier in the evening.

Determined to return to your seat next to Aemond, you maneuvered around the edges of the dance floor, avoiding the couples spinning and laughing in their intoxication. The hall vibrated with the lively music of the lutes and violins, and the atmosphere, filled with wine and laughter, seemed to intensify by the second.

However, just before reaching your destination, an unexpected obstacle appeared before you. As you looked up, you came face to face with Lord Donald Tarly. His smile was wide, and the warmth with which he regarded you suggested more than mere courtesy. His eyes roamed your face with a familiarity that made you uncomfortable, but there was no way to avoid the encounter without appearing rude.

"My lady," he greeted with a courteous bow, though his tone held a confidence that bordered on insolence. "It would be an honor to invite you to dance."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the urge to decline his offer to avoid stirring Aemond’s displeasure. However, given the public nature of the event and the presence of nobles and allies, you decided to maintain appearances. After all, it was just a dance, and courtesy dictated that you should not refuse without a clear reason.

"Of course, Lord Tarly," you replied with a nod, taking his hand when he offered it. You knew Aemond wouldn’t be pleased, but you trusted he would understand; after all, some formalities were unavoidable in court.

Lord Tarly’s fingers gently closed around yours as he guided you to the dance floor. The music continued to resonate, and the violins began a softer melody, fitting for a quiet conversation. As you started to move to the rhythm, Lord Tarly broke the silence.

“It’s an honor to dance with you tonight, my lady. I must confess I’ve been looking forward to this moment since I arrived at the banquet,” he said, his tone kind but with a hint of flirtation.

You managed a courteous smile. “It’s a pleasure, Lord Tarly. I hope you’ve enjoyed the festivities.”

“I would enjoy it more if every night included the privilege of your company,” he replied without losing composure. You could feel his gaze examining you with interest, and you decided not to respond to that.

However, as the dance continued, you found yourself laughing at one of Lord Tarly’s anecdotes. Despite your initial reservations, the conversation turned out to be more pleasant than you had anticipated. His humor was subtle, and his ability to keep the conversation flowing made time pass quickly.

But then, as you gently twirled to the music, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was as if an invisible force compelled you to look across the room. Raising your gaze, you met Aemond’s eyes on the other side of the hall. He was seated, his posture rigid, his expression grave. The tension in his jaw was evident, and though he hadn’t said a word, his gaze conveyed everything you needed to know. Aemond’s lips barely moved, but the fire in his eyes indicated that the scene before him displeased him greatly.

Your heart skipped a beat. Aemond was not known for his patience when it came to you, especially when someone else showed interest in your attention. His gaze was a mix of jealousy and barely concealed anger, and you could see how his fingers tightened around the goblet he held, as if trying to contain himself.

“Are you alright, princess?” Lord Tarly’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You forced a smile, though your attention was no longer fully on the conversation. “Yes, of course. Just a bit distracted.”

“I see that Prince Aemond is watching you quite intently,” Tarly remarked with a barely perceptible smile. “I hope I’m not causing any misunderstandings.”

You tried to laugh lightly, though you knew the situation was becoming more tense. “No, of course not. Aemond is… very protective, that’s all.”

“Protective?” Lord Tarly’s smile widened a little. “I can’t blame him. There’s certainly much to protect.”

You felt uncomfortable at the double meaning in his words, and as the music began to slow down, you decided it was time to end the dance. “It has been a pleasure, Lord Tarly, but I think I should return to my husband.”

You stepped away gracefully, determined to return to Aemond. When you sat next to him, you hoped he would break the silence, but he did not. He didn’t even look at you. His jaw was tight, and the jealous glint in his single eye was unmistakable, though he made no effort to conceal it.

Frustrated, you took his hand in yours, trying to smooth over the situation. However, his rigidity remained. “Do whatever you want,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of irritation and exasperation.

You hoped for a reaction, a word, something that indicated he was willing to discuss the issue, but Aemond simply continued to stare ahead, his silence more stubborn than ever. You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to keep pressing the issue. You had no intention of arguing over something so trivial. Not here, not now, and certainly not over a minor courtly dance.

His jealousy seemed, at that moment, rather childish. You stood up firmly, adjusting your dress with a decisive gesture. There was no reason to prolong the discomfort of the situation, especially not in public. You decided that it was best to retreat to your room. If Aemond wanted to maintain that absurd attitude, you would not waste your energy discussing it at a banquet full of onlookers. Not for something so insignificant.

Aemond did not stop you, which irritated you even more. Without looking back, you left the hall. As you made your way through the torch-lit corridors, you felt the tension in your shoulders beginning to ease slightly. You repeated to yourself that distance would do you both good and that tomorrow, things would surely look clearer.

You reached your room, closing the door softly behind you, though more decisively than you had intended. Silence greeted you, and the tranquility you had longed for during the hectic night began to settle. You removed your jewelry with methodical movements, letting your thoughts drift away from the previous scene.

But the echo of your thoughts was soon interrupted when you heard the door open with an almost imperceptible sound. There was no need to turn around to know who it was. Aemond.

You turned slowly, finding him in the doorway, his expression a mix of wounded pride and barely contained regret. There was no need for immediate words; his presence said it all. He couldn't bear the idea of letting you go like this, just like that. And although he was a man who rarely apologized openly, you knew that his way of following you was, in itself, an acknowledgment that he had let jealousy overpower him.

"Are you going to say something?" you asked, keeping your gaze fixed on him. Your tone, though controlled, had enough acidity for him to know you weren't willing to let the matter pass easily.

Aemond stopped a few steps away from you, his gaze locked with yours, but the silence continued to fill the space between you both. He seemed to be torn between his pride and the desire to make things right, a tug-of-war that you knew all too well in him.

"What do you want me to say?" he finally murmured, his voice low but charged with barely disguised tension. "That I didn't care to see another man approaching you as if he had any right? That I should have stood idly by while he looked at you that way?"

You sighed, crossing your arms in front of you. "Aemond, it was a simple dance. Nothing more. You can't react like this every time someone speaks to me. This isn’t the battlefield, and not everyone is an enemy."

"A simple dance?" he retorted, taking another step toward you, his eyebrow raised. "I saw what I saw, and it wasn't just a dance. That man has no idea what respect means, and I'm not going to tolerate anyone even thinking they can..." He stopped, his words hanging in the air as he struggled to contain the rising heat of his temper.

"Can what?" you challenged, shaking your head, frustrated. "What do you think is going to happen, Aemond? That I’ll leave you for Lord Tarly? For a man I barely know and, to be honest, means absolutely nothing to me? You can’t keep acting as if any interaction is a threat to you."

For a moment, his eyes showed something more than jealousy: there was insecurity in his gaze, a shadow that he rarely revealed. You knew it wasn’t just a matter of wounded pride; there was something deeper affecting him.

"I can’t stand the idea..." he started to say, his voice softer now, almost broken, "that someone else might even imagine having your attention, your closeness. I’m a man of war, but with you... I don’t know how to handle this."

The echo of his words hit you hard, disarming any defenses you had built. Aemond, however fierce he was with people or in court, found himself lost when it came to expressing what he felt for you.

The echo of his words hit you hard, disarming any defenses you had built. Aemond, however fierce he was with people or in court, found himself lost when it came to expressing what he felt for you.

You looked at him for a moment, letting your shoulders drop, tired of the argument and knowing that despite everything, there was some truth in his fears. "You don’t have to handle anything. I’m not going anywhere, Aemond. I’m here, with you."

There was a silence loaded with emotion before he took the final step toward you, closing the space between you both. His hand slowly rose to your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that always surprised you in someone like him. "I’m sorry," he murmured, almost in a whisper, his gaze searching yours.

Before you could respond, his lips met yours in a kiss that, although starting softly, soon grew more intense, filled with a mixture of regret and need. Your hands clung to his clothes, responding with equal fervor, allowing the tension that had filled the space between you both to dissolve in that intimate moment.

When he pulled away, just a few inches, his eyes shone with a silent promise. "It won’t happen again," he assured, his forehead resting against yours. And in that moment, you knew that, as complicated as the emotions you shared were, you would always find your way back to each other.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 6

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“How long have you known him?” Bucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every reaction.

“Five years,” you answered, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want him to pick up on any hint of tension.

Bucky frowned, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Ian seemed like a typical journalist, but something else about him gnawed at Bucky's instincts.

He rarely interacted with foreign reporters, so why did Ian’s presence feel… off? He was sure he'd figure out why this feeling wouldn't leave him.

Before either of you could say more, Greg appeared, clipboard in hand, and gave you both a pointed look. “Alright, you two, time to get ready. The event’s about to start. Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly.”

You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir. You’d been on stages before, but not like this. Not with Bucky, not under the gaze of an entire country.

Bucky noticed your hesitation and moved closer, placing a firm hand on your lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

You looked up at him, trying to read his eyes. Was he just saying that for the cameras? Or was there something deeper there? It was getting harder to tell. You nodded anyway, more for yourself than for him, and straightened up. You had to play your part, just as you always did.

At the Convention

The large venue buzzed with excitement, lights shining down on the stage like spotlights in an arena. When Steve Rogers walked up to the podium, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He was the golden candidate—charismatic, confident, the embodiment of what the people wanted.

The room buzzed with anticipation as Steve Rogers approached the podium, every eye in the venue locked onto him. He stood tall, his presence commanding, radiating the quiet strength he was known for. After a brief moment, he began speaking, his voice steady but filled with passion.

"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans," Steve’s voice echoed with gravitas, "Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era. We face challenges that require not just strong leadership, but leadership rooted in integrity, honor, and the unyielding belief in the power of the people."

The crowd quieted further, hanging on his every word.

"For too long, we’ve watched division grow. But I believe in the strength of unity, the strength of standing together—one nation, bound by a shared responsibility to protect our freedom, our families, and our future. And I pledge to lead with the same unwavering commitment that I’ve given to this country my entire life."

He took a brief pause, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, his tone growing more impassioned.

"I am not just here as a candidate, but as a father, a husband, and a son," he said, gesturing toward his wife, Peggy, and their children standing nearby, his parents behind them. "I want a better world for my family—just as I want a better world for yours. A world where opportunity isn’t reserved for the few but shared by the many. A world where every child grows up in safety, with access to education, health, and the opportunity to pursue their dreams."

The applause began to rise, but Steve held his hand up gently, signaling for quiet once more.

"This is not just my campaign. This is our campaign. Together, we will fight for a future that respects the dignity of every individual. We will build an America where justice is not selective but a right for all. Where leadership is about service—not power."

His voice crescendoed, igniting the room.

"Because I believe in us. I believe in the promise of America, and I believe in the strength of the American people. Together, we will rise to meet the challenges of today, and together, we will create a brighter, fairer, and stronger tomorrow."

The room erupted into thunderous applause as Steve’s words settled over the crowd. He stepped back, waving, as Peggy and their children joined him at the front of the stage, a living testament to the family values he championed.

With that, Steve Rogers sealed the moment—an electrifying speech that echoed far beyond the walls of the convention hall.

The crowd erupted into applause as Steve stepped aside, making way for Bucky.

Now it was his turn.

You watched as Bucky walked to the podium with the practiced ease of a man who was born for this. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, the overhead lights catching the sharp angles of his face. As soon as he began speaking, the room hushed again.

“I want to thank everyone for being here today,” Bucky started, his voice strong, yet warm. “Serving alongside Steve has been the honor of my life, and I am proud to stand here as the candidate for Vice President. My family—my parents Julius and Caroline, my siblings Shawn and Hazel, my nephew Nate, and my brother-in-law Tim—are with me today.” He motioned to the side, where they all stood. Caroline’s expression was as rigid as ever, while Julius offered a rare smile.

Then Bucky’s eyes found you.

“And of course, my wife. She’s been my rock. She’s stood by me through the hardest times, and I can’t imagine being here without her.” His voice softened, but the sincerity in his words cut through the noise in your head.

You smiled on cue, the kind of smile you’d perfected over years of practice. But inside, everything felt muddled. Bucky spoke as though you were his whole world, but you knew the truth. This was a performance. A calculated move to protect his image.

The applause was thunderous, but it sounded far away as you fought the emotions swirling inside you. Bucky looked the part—strong, dependable, built for this kind of role. He was doing everything right.

But you? You were pretending. The smile you wore for the cameras wasn’t for him; it was for the part of you that wanted to see Caroline suffer, to see her envy every look Bucky gave you on that stage. But underneath the spite, you felt something deeper, something far more complicated.

'Can I really keep doing this?' The question lodged itself in your mind as the applause rang out again.

You watched Bucky continue his speech, looking every bit the man of the moment. He thrived in this atmosphere, while you felt like you were drowning in a sea of lies. Every glance from the audience, every flash from the cameras, reminded you that none of this was real.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause again. Bucky turned to you, offering his hand. The warmth of his palm against yours was meant to be reassuring, but it only deepened your confusion.

As you both exited the stage, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He leaned down, voice low in your ear. “You did great,” he whispered. His words were laced with a strange tenderness that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, but deep down, the weight of this act was crushing you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the convention wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, you and Bucky maneuvered Tim’s wheelchair carefully. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in the air, but you could sense the underlying tension between Bucky and Ian as Ian approached you and Tim.

Ian greeted you with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m working on a piece about the election from the perspective of the candidates’ families. What’s it like for you and your family during all this?”

Bucky, standing beside you, made a subtle move to place himself between you and Ian, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. “I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Bucky began, but Tim cut him off.

“Of course! I’ve never been interviewed before. It’ll be good to share my side,” Tim said eagerly, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Bucky looked at Tim, then at you, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. He sighed and stepped aside, unable to argue with Tim’s excitement or your reluctance to refuse a friend’s request.

Ian turned to you, his expression curious. “You never mentioned your brother before. It’s clear you two have a strong bond.”

“She’s a private person,” Tim interjected with a hint of pride.

Ian raised an eyebrow, glancing back at you. “You really seem to know her well.”

“We may not always show it, but we’re very close. She’s been like a second mother to me, especially after I lost my leg,” Tim said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the unexpected praise from your brother. It was rare to hear him speak so openly about his feelings.

Ian smiled as he jotted down notes. “This story is going to resonate with a lot of people.”

After a while, Tim excused himself, leaving you and Ian alone. Ian’s demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more serious.

“Thanks for giving him the chance to speak,” you said with a slight edge. “You know, it feels like you just handed him a chance to embarrass me.”

Ian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Isn’t that what siblings do? Cherish these moments of difference before it’s too late.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean,-?”

Before you could ask, Ian pulled you aside, his face set with determination. “I heard there’s a divorce in your marriage.”

You stiffened, your eyes widening in surprise. “How did you find out?”

Ian’s smirk was almost smug. “Don’t underestimate my skills. You vanished, then reappeared, acting like everything’s perfect. I pieced it together from the campaign.”

He leaned closer, his frustration evident. “Not once did you mention him. And now, suddenly, you’re playing the loving wife. It’s irritating.”

You crossed your arms, feeling a wave of anger and discomfort. “Are you planning to use this information?”

Ian’s expression softened, though his eyes were intense. “I don’t know yet. But a few people already know.”

You flinched at his words, a shiver running down your spine.

Ian’s voice dropped to a reassuring whisper. “Don’t worry. They’ve only heard rumors. No one has solid evidence. I could protect you. Because you deserve someone better.”

You gulped, unable to speak. Ian’s concern seemed genuine, but you couldn’t shake off the pain from your marriage with Bucky. Your emotions were still tangled, and you didn’t want to get involved with Ian’s feelings, especially now.

You glanced up and saw Bucky watching you from across the room. His eyes were locked on you, his gaze sharp and intense. It felt like he was assessing every movement, every word. The tension in his stare made your heart race, and you could almost feel his frustration and jealousy from afar.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the car sped through the night, the backseat felt increasingly cramped, the air thick with unspoken tension. You stared out the window, trying to avoid Bucky’s piercing gaze. The city lights flickered past, a blur of neon and shadows, as you stewed over the conversation with Ian and the unresolved questions it left.

Bucky's silence was more oppressive than any words. His jaw was set tight, and the muscles in his neck were rigid. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, laced with an edge of command. “Don’t meet Ian anymore.”

You continued to look out the window, your reflection a ghostly image against the darkened glass. “He knew about the divorce,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his grip on the seat tightening. He was silent for a moment, the weight of your revelation settling in. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Well, that means I’m on the right track. Every politician has skeletons in their closet.”

You turned your head sharply to face him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not afraid if the rumor leaks out?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. But I’m more worried about how it’ll affect you.” He paused “But look at the bright side. It narrows down the list of people who knew about our marriage.”

You turned to him, eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re playing with fire, Bucky.”

He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. His expression softened into a smirk, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “I’ll win this for you. I still remember that moment when you wished me to win, just to spite my mother. I need that brave Y/N.”

You could feel the heat from his body, his breath mingling with yours as he drew nearer. The car’s dim lighting accentuated the intensity in his eyes, a smoldering gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Don’t make this about me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bucky’s smirk deepened, and he moved even closer, his face inches from yours. “But babe, this is all for you,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.

His proximity was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You swallowed hard, the line between anger and something else entirely blurring as his lips almost brushed against yours.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were caught between the anger at his manipulation and the undeniable pull of the unresolved feelings you still harbored for him. The confined space of the car seemed to shrink around you, the air charged with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.

Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his smirk fading into an expression of intense focus. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that made your skin tingle. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice carrying an almost desperate edge.

You hated him for the pain he’d caused, but his touch betrayed your emotions, making it hard to stay firm. And he knew it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.only the charged, almost unbearable closeness between you.

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[hoe4hotchner]

Can I get an imagine where the reader is married to Aaron and gets hurt by an unsub and he’s worried about her and races to find her or whatever. I just want to be rescued and held by Aaron!!

Solace | [A.H]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘞: 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤, 𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘠/𝘕 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘞𝘊: 0.9𝘬

𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮😭😩

           The deafening sound of sirens filled the air as Hotch raced through the chaos, his heart pounding in his chest. His usually calm, collected demeanor was fractured, barely holding together under the crushing weight of his fear. The flashing lights of police cars and ambulances cast harsh shadows across the scene, but all he could focus on was one thing: finding you.

           He didn’t care about the unsub, the case, or anything else at that moment. All that mattered was you - his wife, the love of his life - somewhere out there, hurt, possibly worse. The thought twisted like a knife in his gut, each second stretching into eternity as he pushed past the swarm of agents and EMTs.

           "Where is she?" Hotch's voice came out sharp, breathless, as he grabbed the arm of the nearest paramedic, he looked panicked.

           "We’re treating victims inside—"

           "Where is my wife?" His tone cracked, unrecognizable even to himself. The fear coursing through him was real, raw, and it took everything in him to keep from shouting. He didn’t want to think about what might happen if you were too late.

           The paramedic’s eyes softened, and she motioned toward the building in the distance - smoke still rising from its shattered windows. "They brought her out a few minutes ago. She’s over there—" The paramedic had worked with Hotch several times before and knew who he was referring to.

           Hotch didn’t wait to hear the rest. His legs moved on instinct, feet pounding against the pavement as he sprinted toward where the paramedic had pointed. Everything around him became a blur as he neared the edge of the chaos, his eyes scanning desperately for you.

           Then he saw you.

           You were lying on a stretcher, surrounded by EMTs, your body battered and bruised. Blood stained your clothes, your face ghostly and covered in small cuts, and for a moment, Hotch felt his heart stop. His world narrowed to just you - lying there so still, so vulnerable.

           "Y/N," he whispered, almost afraid to say your name, as though speaking it aloud would make the reality of your injuries too real to bear.

           You blinked slowly, your head turning toward the sound of his voice. Despite the pain etched across your face, your lips trembled into a small, fragile smile. "Aaron…"

           He was beside you in an instant, kneeling next to the stretcher, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "I’m here. I’m right here." His voice was soft, but the tremor in it betrayed how close he was to breaking.

           Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and Hotch's heart skipped a beat as he panicked, his hand tightening around yours. "Hey, stay with me. Please, stay with me."

           You opened your eyes again, your gaze locking with his, and you gave the smallest of nods. "I’m okay… just a little… shaken."

           The sight of you, injured but still fighting, broke something inside of him. He felt his throat tighten, his chest constricting with emotions he hadn’t let himself feel since Haley. Fear, helplessness, love - all of it swirled inside him as he pressed his forehead gently against yours. "I was so scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I’d lost you."

           You squeezed his hand weakly, your eyes searching his. "You didn’t lose me… I’m still here."

           His breath hitched as he pulled back slightly, taking in every inch of your face, every bruise, every cut. The sight of you in so much pain, and yet still trying to comfort him, made his heart ache. He gently brushed his thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped down your skin. "You’re going to be okay. We’ll get through this."

           But the guilt weighed heavily on him - he hadn’t been there when you needed him most. He had failed to protect you. The thought gnawed at him, threatening to pull him under, but you tugged weakly on his hand, grounding him back to you.

           "Don’t… don’t blame yourself," you murmured, your voice thin. "I knew you’d come. I knew you’d find me."

           Hotch's jaw tightened as he blinked back his own tears, his heart swelling with love and relief. You trusted him, even when he doubted himself. He bent down and kissed your forehead softly, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual as if that would somehow keep you safe.

           "I love you," he whispered against your skin, his voice filled with a desperate tenderness.

           "I love you too," you breathed, your smile small but genuine, even through the pain.

           The EMTs moved in to check your vitals again, and Hotch stepped back, his hand never leaving yours as they worked around you. He watched them carefully, not willing to let you out of his sight for even a second. He couldn’t shake the fear that something might happen, that he might lose you if he blinked.

           But as the minutes passed and your condition stabilized, the panic that had been clawing at him began to ease. The doctors said you’d be okay - that your injuries, though serious, weren’t life-threatening. Relief washed over him in waves, but the fear lingered, the memory of almost losing you haunting him.

           When the EMTs finally finished, Hotch sat beside you again, his hand cradling yours gently. He could see the exhaustion weighing heavily on you, your eyelids fluttering as you struggled to stay awake.

           "It’s okay," he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. "You can rest now. I’m not going anywhere."

           You gave him a tired smile, your hand weakly squeezing his once more before your eyes closed, finally succumbing to sleep. Hotch watched you for a long time, his heart still heavy, but you were safe. You were alive.

           And that was all that mattered.

[questions-about-blorbos]

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[angelcake10023]

Welcome Home….

You get no context for this LOL at least not yet

[violetaquadelight]

🔸️💠Don't forget me💠🔸️

[slapstermasterr]

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝗪𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18 (MINORS DNI) smut, virgin reader!, unrequited love, heavy angst, reader gets hurt, kinda friends with benefits, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, language

Word Count: 7216

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Waste' by Kxllswxtch. | One-Shot.

Dean's eyes narrowed as he treated your wounded hand; you smiled a little to yourself as he talked about how you sometimes behaved recklessly. If only he knew how much you cherished the moments when he protected you during a hunt.

You had been with him and Sam for a year now, and it was difficult to resist falling in love with him. You weren't sure when you fell in love with him, but you sensed it from the moment he smiled at you, or maybe in a random moment. Every time you glanced into his green eyes, you felt a sense of admiration. You had absolutely no complaints. 

He complained as he was working to treat your wound, “You must know, I will consider kicking you out of the team if you keep acting like that.”

It began to rain in your house's weak light. Your heart was filled with fright as he took care of your wound in your house, where you were alone, and it seemed so calm; you were afraid of losing that precious, fragile time with Dean, not of ghosts. You weren't afraid of ghosts. 

You asked naively, as if you had no idea what he was talking about, “Like what?” When he grabbed your hand too tightly unintentionally, and that sudden moment hurt you a bit, you attempted to draw it in toward yourself with a pained gasp. 

With a look of regret on his face, you looked at him with understanding. 

“When I tell you to get behind me, you must do what I say, or when I tell you to stop, you must stop.”

“Remember the previous case in point,” you sighed. “If I did what you told me, we'd both be dead.” You looked up to see how he was feeling. 

“It was only a single exception,” Dean immediately defended himself, rolling his eyes at you. 

“However, if I had listened to you, I would have been killed. You too,” you mutely remarked. You weren't attempting to put the blame on him. You were aware that he was guarding Sam and you constantly. You dropped your eyes to your eyes as he looked at you, feeling instantly overwhelmed and overpowered by his piercing stare. “I promise that when I go hunting, I'm not being careless. I truly listen to you, but you must have some degree of faith in me. Since I joined you and Sam months ago, I'm convinced he has more faith in me.”

You wanted Dean to think highly of you, someone whom he could always trust, just as you trusted him with your life. You wanted him to trust you, your strength, and your feelings. Even if you were quite successful, you felt that he still seemed to be unsure about you.

This time, instead of cracking one of his jokes to lighten the mood, he seemed to be deep in focus. When he appeared so confused and like he was in pain on the inside, you wondered what exactly he was thinking. Though you didn't think you could stop him from ruminating at that moment, you still wanted to help him if he was in pain, calm him down if he was feeling anxious, and comfort him if he was feeling uneasy. 

The sense of worthlessness was an emotion you wanted to stay away from. 

When he noticed that you weren't as happy as you had been minutes before, he stated in a dry voice, “I don't want you to get killed or hurt because of me. I do trust you, but you have to stop acting reckless and try to save me by endangering yourself.”

“I wasn't putting myself at risk. You're exaggerating,” you said as you continued to examine his hands while he continued to take care of your wounded hand. 

“You're very stubborn, aren't you?” In an attempt to soften the thick air, Dean smiled back weakly. 

You chuckled and tried to catch his gaze by raising your head as you drew nearer and moved on to where you were sitting. “But Sam thinks I'm the easiest one to get along with and easiest to persuade,” you said. 

Dean winked at you suspiciously and said, “Hey, I guess you were right about something.”

“About what?” 

“He's dumb when it comes to reading people, huh?” 

You muttered, “Asshole,” and gave him a little leg kick. It made him laugh, which made you joyful. 

Dean let go of your hand, gave you a long, odd smile, and checked his watch after making sure you were okay and being well taken care of. You could feel the joy leave your body when you realized he wasn't going to stay or anything. You had no idea how to get him to stay with you, at least for a day, at your home. Still, he was always on the move. It's fortunate that he didn't hear how quickly your heart was beating, how much you wanted his touch, and everything else.

You said in a hushed tone, as if you didn't give a damn whether he said ‘yes,’ but you cared like crazy. “You can spend the night in here if you wish.”

“I think I have other plans for tonight,” he remarked, flashing you his adorable grin and a wink. “We move so much throughout the day. The town must have missed me.”

You chuckled slightly and said, "By whom exactly, Mr. Loverman?” You noticed that the rain was falling more quickly through the glass. 

Dean gave you a haughty look and stated, “By ladies, of course,” which made you jealous, but you didn't want to show it to him and ruin your friendship.

Playing with the fabric of your sweatpants, you said, “Boys. They come and go.” You attempted to ignore the vivid images of Dean with other women that were playing out in your head. It was unavoidable, but you didn't want to get jealous and mess up everything. “New ones appear all the time. Don't be worried about the women who missed you.” 

He smiled and replied, “You're a smartass, aren't you?” You felt encouraged to continue since he didn't appear to be offended or anything.

“And you're overconfident in yourself. Have you yet to be rejected by someone? Not even once?” You said it inquisitively. 

“Just once,” Dean remarked humorously. It eluded you whether he was being serious or joking. At times, it was difficult to understand him.

You tried to chuckle as you remarked, “Must be fun.”  You sounded like you were going to choke though.

Dean spoke for a little while before attempting to get up and leave your home, but the electricity unexpectedly cut off, leaving you gasping in surprise. You backed away from him with a shy grin, not because you were afraid, just because you realized you had touched his knee. 

You said, “Ah, it doesn't look like the rain is going to stop soon,” and to your relief, he sat back on the seat. As it was pouring heavily, you expressed your gratitude to God and Michael for their generosity and compassion, which you felt had come once in a lifetime.

At least once, you prayed that night's rain would never cease so Dean wouldn't go. 

"Yeah," he said in a dry voice. It was your hope that he wouldn't feel stuck with you and let down. Dean was aware that although you weren't terrified of ghosts, you were fearful of being alone yourself in the dark. “Do you want me to light a candle?”

You timidly replied, “I guess I don't have any.”

“All right.”

“Are you still planning to leave or spend the night?” You tried not to seem enthusiastic as you asked, but with anticipation. You hoped that his ability to read your face in the dark would be poor.

“I suppose it's best if I stay with you. You're a lovely young girl who, in the end, is more terrified of the dark than ghosts. As a gentleman,” he murmured, moving to a more comfortable position on the coach. “It's my responsibility to protect and repay you tonight, don't I?”

You laughed as though he had made a joke, but in reality, you were only finding it difficult to hide your happiness at his answer that he would stay. The angels seemed to fill your heart with such incredible bliss. If it would force him to spend his time with you in that manner, you may put yourself at ongoing risk. You wished he understood how much you valued each and every word he said.

“How about you, though?” Dean asked out of the blue. Although his face was concealing himself in the darkness, you could tell by the tone of his words that he was perplexed. 

You asked, perplexed, not understanding what he was talking about, “What about me?”

“I haven't seen you with...someone in a long time since you joined us,” he said. You may argue that he spoke slowly in order to carefully select his words so as not to offend you or cause you distress. “Actually, I've never seen you with someone nor heard you talking about anyone.” 

You attempted to give him a confident smile, but all you managed to do was give him off an odd look. “Uhm,” you stammered out while attempting to think of anything to say without looking foolish. “Those hunts are challenging and exhausting.” You attempted to explain to him, “I'm not interested in seeing someone right now, and I can't find time for myself.” You were hoping he wouldn't dig too much.

You weren’t the best when it came to lying. 

As if he wasn't okay with your explanation, he grumbled, “We've been staying here for a month, and we are not even that busy.”

You wouldn't tell Dean that you were an inexperienced one in your mid-20s, as you knew he was very skilled with women. You just could not possibly make yourself look so foolish in front of him. You were unsure what he would think about you. Definitely, it was best to remain silent.

You said, “I'm just not interested and feel like I have no time for anyone,” trying not to sound like lying. Although it wasn't a total lie, how in the world could you admit that you were truly interested in someone, him, and that's the reason you weren't interested in anybody else?

You wanted he could read the words on your lips and your voice so you wouldn't have been trying so hard to explain things to him while hiding yourself away from him for so long.

Love was something that both wanted to be hidden and to be revealed. It was complicated and bizarre.

Dean finally responded, “You're right, actually,” after giving you a long stare. “You should avoid things that might distract the focus of your attention. Men might easily split your soft and lovely heart in half.”

You asked, irritated, “Why do you say that?” You always believed that since you avoided people so well, nobody would ever consider hurting you or anything like that.

As he moved a little closer to you, Dean smirked and remarked, “Like you say,” which made you tense. You couldn't see him well, but his smile was joyful. Before continuing, he arched an eyebrow and nibbled his bottom lip. “I'm ladies' man. I read women really well, and you're easy to see through.”

You said to him, “You really are a ladies' man. But I'd say you are illiterate.” 

Dean gave you a small chuckle and made the decision not to push you too far or make you feel more shy. And anyhow, he wouldn't allow you to talk about males, not right now. You did not require guidance since you did well on your own. “Hey, I see that you’re a little sharp today. After taking care of your wounded hand, I made the decision to spend the night with you and look how you treat me. You're being ungrateful.”

He made a false furious look at you, and you couldn't stop laughing. “You do realize, though, that I have once again saved your ass. I'm beginning to feel like you must repay me for acting as your guard. Like an angel.” You gave him a little smile and added, “That means something, right?”

Dean said, “It does,” with the same lighthearted tone as you, his eyes examining your face up close in the dark as your smile slowly faded from the corners of your lips.

You gasped in surprise and fright when an unexpected lightning strike struck with such force it seemed like the sky had been split in half. Dean laughed, seeing as how you really jumped on the coach. 

“I can't believe you're not afraid of ghosts, witches and all, but just some raindrops,” he stated in astonishment. Your pulse beat like crazy when you felt his breath close to you, but Dean probably assumed it was because you were frightened.

Both of your arms and legs touched, but you tried not to react. “I'm not afraid of rainy weather or something,” you replied. “It's normal to be jumpy when an unexpected noise like lightning appears.”

In an attempt to annoy you, Dean said in a persuasive voice, “It was just simple lightning. Many things might come as unexpected. You can't always get scared.”

You said, “Like what things?” as if in plea. 

You stared at his wonderfully shaped lips in the darkness as he spoke in a whisper. Your lips felt so dry that you wanted to lick them. Although you hoped he didn't notice, at that point you weren't really worried. Yes, you were a virgin with no prior experience, and you were very determined to keep your body and mind closed off to others, but things seemed different when you met Dean. It wasn't that you were old-fashioned-minded; you just wanted to be with someone you cared for, someone you loved. 

You were aware that the desire to be near him was more than simply passion; you wanted to touch his face, jaw, hair, and every other part of him. Your soul yearned to be near him desperately. 

Dean failed to notice when another lightning strike made you jump. It wasn't the finest moment for him to think clearly. There was always something enjoyable to do. Given that you've known each other for a while and that it must have been a while since you allowed someone to touch you, it seemed appropriate to blow off steam with each other. It was, after all, a difficult and somewhat tiresome a few hours earlier. 

Just when you thought you were going to pass out, Dean suddenly captured your lips and began to give you an urgent, intense kiss. Yes, you were somewhat inexperienced, but at least you've had a kiss. Quite some time ago, indeed. You made an effort to calm down, returned his kisses with your best effort, let your racing thoughts disappear into the darkness, and gave yourself over to that single perfect moment. 

You sucked Dean's lower lip, and your fingers stroked his jaw as his skillful tongue dominated yours. He must have been encouraged by your response because he moaned a bit as he shoved you back on the coach and pushed you to lie under him. He kept giving you firm kisses throughout.

His muscular neck was stroked by your hands as you drew him in between your knees. You shuddered as he put his body between your legs. It was the realization that your body was missing something that you were unable to identify. Your entire body exuded passion and desire. It hurt to need Dean so much. You had no idea how you had been able to contain yourself for so long.

You were longing to touch him all over.

Dean moved his lips to your throat, allowing you to take a deep breath. You were unable to contain a giggle as he violently sucked on your neck and throat. You realized you were sensitive there.

“Don't keep those lovely noises from me. Are we not the only ones alone in here?” While he boldly touched your skin beneath your shirt, Dean whispered. Though you urged yourself to relax down a little, you felt like your heart would burst at any minute.

It was possible that he might back off if you revealed to him that you were a virgin. It was certain that he would. You attempted to pretend that you had experience too and that it had simply been a long time because he was just interested in hook-ups, and that's what you were going to go through. It hurt to admit it, but maybe things would change.

You never would have imagined that you would feel that way about Dean, and you refused to miss the opportunity to be with him by telling him you weren't deflowered just yet. All you had to do was appear bold and avoid raising suspicion with your awkwardness.

Your cheeks flushed red, but at least the room was completely dark, keeping your almost scared gaze and timid finger movements hidden from him.

Your hands gently slipped inside his t-shirt, touching every muscle in so as to savor it. Your breath quivered with anticipation as your palm brushed every part of him. You could never let someone else touch you in the same manner that Dean did. 

Dean's eyes were on you, and as he nibbled your lower lip, you urged him to remove his shirt. You could see he was smiling a little bit when he pulled it off. That you were prepared to go one step beyond thrilled him. 

You must have pushed your injured hand a little bit hard when you gasped in little pain after both of your hands reached his back and you enjoyed the feeling of his muscles beneath your palms. 

“Hey, be careful and take your time there. Remember that all you are is a wounded gazelle under my mercy. You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?” As he worked on your clothing, Dean said in amusement.

You moaned in surprise as one of his hands slipped into your shirt and gave you a strong grip on your nipple. “Maybe I am,” you murmured, almost laughing, but the noise you made turned into a moan. 

You made a little movement beneath him. It seemed as though your body needed something from you or him, but you were completely unaware of what was going on. All you knew was that you were desperate for Dean to do something. 

You gasped somewhat alarmed as your nipple hardened between his skilled fingertips. As he slid on top of you and played with your tits, you got excited more and more, assuming that he wanted this as much as you did. You thought for a moment that it was actually romantic considering it was all dark and raining like hell outside, like the whole heaven wanted you to be with him.

You nailed Dean's back with boldness, crushed your lips to his once more, kissing him with desire while trying your hardest not to show Dean how shy you were in fact. It relieved you to hear him groan a bit in your mouth. You moaned quietly into his lips as soon as his thumb started playing with your nipples once again. 

Dean moved quickly to help you remove your shirt by pulling back. You were shivering a little, but even though he was making your skin hot, you would have blamed the room's cool temperature if he had asked.

His lips made their way to your nipples, where he expertly sucked them with his tongue. Your back arched as his lips nibbled your breasts delicately, and you forgot about your envious thoughts about how many other women he had treated like this. This time, you were unable to stop your loud moan from filling the room. 

Dean gave both of your nipples little licks and a firm kiss after sucking your tits for many minutes, making them slippery with his spit, and making you cry out beneath his body. You didn't know how pleasurable it was to be with someone doing such things.You were aware that you were attempting to create friction by placing your leg on his hip. 

He whispered to your lips, “I bet you're fucking dripping there,” as his hands gently moved into your sweatpants. He was trying to see every expression on your face in the dark. His voice was rough as he asked, “Are you wet enough to take me?”

You managed to say something like “Hmm,” which is sufficient. “I think I am.” 

“We must be sure,” Dean remarked in a lighthearted manner. “Let's see.” 

Dean slid his fingers slowly inside your sweatpants. He was grinning a little over you when he heard your heartbeat. As you waited for what was going to happen, you gripped onto his shoulder.

His fingers touched your underwear, causing you to gasp in surprise as he gave you a soft touch. Every second, you felt like you were becoming wetter. You believed you might orgasm at any minute since your clit was so sensitive to him. You wanted more because of how ethereal and gentle his hands were. You needed to raise your hip to him and squeeze his bisceps in order to receive what your body craved. 

Satisfied, Dean moved your underwear aside as he watched you twitch under him in desperation. He rubbed your clit some more, then used two fingers to feel how wet you were. 

Dean kept pushing back on his groan. He said in surprise, “Fuck, I knew you'd be wet, but you are literally leaking there.” You had no idea whether or not it satisfied him. All you wanted to do was the right thing. Regardless of what it was. 

You lied when you said, “It's been very, very long,” since you had no idea what to say. The way he responded truly made you feel a little awkward. 

You felt better after sharing quick kisses on the lips with him. “Good,” was Dean's sharp reply. “How many times can I get you to come to me tonight? You deserve appropriate treatment in light of the effort you have been doing these last few months, you know. I must reward you.”

Encouraged, you had a blossoming sensation of bliss and anticipation in your chest. You wished that light would never return and that you and him would always be in the dark together in that very moment.

He touched you during hunts and other times to make jokes, but you didn't used to be physical like that. Watching him being intimate with other women except you was agonizing. But now you knew you could touch him whatever you pleased right now. Just like you imagined when you thought about him, you touched yourself. 

Dean palmed your moisture in his hand, causing you to both pant into each other's mouths. You felt a little uneasy as one of his fingers began to gently press into your entrance since you weren't sure if it would hurt that much or not. You just didn't tell him anything since you didn't want to spoil things. All you did was wait expectantly.

He said, “You're a tight one, aren't you?” as he kept his finger inside of you. You were glad Dean wasn't being swift with you. You withdrew your lips from biting and captured his, pushing him into doing what he needed or desired as well. 

Dean expected that you would be tight, but he didn't anticipate that level of tightness. He was taken aback by how tightly your walls clamped around his finger, and he couldn't help getting thrilled at the thought of feeling your cock around him. He was shivering with excitement coursing through his veins. 

You bit your lip hard in pain as he pressed his thick finger a little further. You didn't make any sound that might have stopped him. Dean would stop in an instant, you knew. 

He must have realized how uncomfortable you were, though, because he began to touch your clit more in an effort to prepare you to become accustomed to him and make you wet enough to take him. 

As he worked on your clit, he remarked, somewhat smirking, “It seems we need to get you ready for me; otherwise, it might be painful a bit for you.”

“I'm prepared. Really,” you said, lifting your hips in the course of action. “You can go on.”

Dean groaned a bit and pressed his finger inside again. He used extreme caution. You whimpered and attempted to make yourself quiet by stealing kisses from him to silence your whimpers. 

Dean withdrew his finger and then thrust it back, not allowing you to say something. His abrupt movement caused your lips to parted in pleasure and enthusiasm. Even though there was still some discomfort, it was soon overshadowed by pleasure and desire as he began to properly finger you. You grabbed onto his shoulders because your pussy hurt from yearning. You tried to put your groaning mouth into Dean's, but he wouldn't let you kiss him. 

You could not help but let a moan out in ecstasy as your back arched when he gently pushed another finger and began to fuck you with them. You made a valiant effort, but it was impossible to avoid coming so quickly and effortlessly.

Dean moaned, “Give it to me,” realizing that you were making it difficult to come. “Come to me now. You're almost there; I know that.”

As soon as your climax hit, Dean grabbed your lips and planted a passionate kiss on it as he touched your chin with one hand, allowing you to ride your pleasure in between moans. 

Your hips rose to get more pleasure as though you could, your back arched, and your walls clenched hard as you rode your climax. Dean's experienced tongue expertly dominated yours as he murmured into your lips. He withdrew to give you a bit of time, and while he did so, he studied your face in the darkness, as if he wanted to remember each and every shadow that passed across your skin in the flickering light. 

He was at a loss as to why he had never touched you before. For a while, at least, it felt pleasant enough to become sidetracked. 

Your cheeks became scarlet as your climax wore on, but you were itching to go one step more. For that, you were ready. For a long while, you had been ready to give Dean everything. 

If he asked, there was nothing you wouldn't give away. 

You planted a hesitant kiss on him to gauge his reaction before your shaky hands made contact with his legs and through his trousers. You could see more of his face as your eyes grew used to the gloom. Your hands became braver as you watched him smile, and boldness invaded your body and thoughts. The sexual experience shouldn't be difficult. Particularly with him.

Shortly after your hand briefly ran over his hardened cock through his trousers, your fingers somewhat slid into his boxer. You were taking your time to gauge his reaction. You were hoping he wouldn't say no, draw a line, or worse, end it up.

You yearned to offer him the same pleasure that he gave you.

In a weak but hopeful voice, you asked, “Can I touch you?”

With a charming chuckle, Dean added, “You can do whatever you like.” His voice carried expectation, which made you thrilled even more.

You reached out and stroked his erect cock, feeling that it was safe to go a step further and meet his gaze with yours. His sly smile vanished from his mouth as he stifled a moan and shifted on top of you, his hand still resting on your thighs and legs. 

He said, “It seems like you're cold,” as soon as you began to touch him. 

You retracted your icy hand in an ashamed attempt to mumble a “sorry,” but Dean reacted swiftly and put your hand back to his aching cock. 

He responded, “We'll get you warm,” and helped you put your hand around his cock to feel closer to him and to give you the confidence to continue. “Your hand feels so good around me.”

Driven by his words, you felt each vein on his cock and then circled your fingers around it to memorize him. You weren't familiar with his length or anything because you weren't an expert on male anatomy, but he was thick, so it was difficult to properly wrap your hands around him. You reasoned that it would be best to take some action to get him to come. 

You moved your hands and began to rub him, trying not to feel shy as you stared into his eyes. Your chest was rising with excitement, and your breathing was heavy. His gasping for air made you pleased and aroused; all you had to do was give him the same pleasure. 

Dean told you, “You're doing so good,” in between strokes. 

You inquired quietly, “Do you like it?”

“I really like it,” Dean said as he planted a kiss on your neck. He paused at your sweatpants and began to carefully lower them with his hands. 

Your hands were moving more quickly on him, and your heart was racing. He felt larger in your grip. He was nearly there. But Dean gently stopped you, pushing your hands aside and planting a kiss on your lips. You sensed that the big move was about to happen.

He saw you were becoming stiff as he assisted you in taking down your sweatpants and underwear, so he questioned you suspiciously, “Are you nervous?”

You lied once more while waiting for him to remove his clothing. “No, of course, not,” you said. When he removed his boxer, you could have practically felt the chills beneath you. You had everything you had on the floor. “It's just cold in here.”

“Trust me, you'll feel warm very soon,” said Dean confidently. His tone had hints of dedication. 

You shifted slightly beneath him to find a more comfortable position. Luckily, there was plenty of room in the coach. You put your hands on Dean's back, feeling his hardness on your stomach, and you waited for him to do something already. Though plainly aroused and moist, you were still a little anxious. You

didn't want to come seem as inexperienced, though. You wished for this to keep going. 

“I do trust you.” That was true at least. 

Dean believed you.

While you waited, he took his cock and gave himself two or three strokes. Witnessing him stroking himself got you even more aroused.

Dean positioned himself on your entrance, making you tense up a little, then brushed his hard cock on your clit after making sure you were both ready. But you were determined to see it through to the end. It was almost like a chance to win him over in a romantic way. Maybe.

He pressed the tip of his cock, and you laid your hands on his back and nailed him like crazy. He was able to slide inside you very easily because of how wet you were, yet it was still uncomfortable and painful.

You bit your lip to suppress your agonizing groans and not to make him stop, so as not to seem like a wounded animal or anything.

Dean groaned over you, “Fuck, you are really tight,” pausing just before pulling away. It was difficult for him to fit inside completely.

You whispered to him, embarrassed, “Sorry,” attempting to calm down and let him in.

“Just relax,” Dean said, taking another position. You nodded to him quickly. 

He again pushed his cock inside of you. This time, your pussy was around him tightly, drawing him within. He let out a sigh of delight at that. Your eyes welled up with tears as he withdrew and used a forceful motion to push himself forward. It was as though he was slicing you in two. Thankfully, he was unaware that a few tears had trickled down from your eyes onto the coach. However, you were unable to cease whimpering in pain. 

Dean sensed when you were ready and gave himself a single, full thrust. You nailed his belly and back and moaned in agony this time because of his harsh moment. 

You were no longer a virgin while you were lying beneath him. Even though the man you loved was unaware that you had given him something unique, you knew that no matter what happened, you would never regret it. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. He could not believe how tight you were. Your walls were drawing him in, constricting around him all the while. If he was less experienced, he would have come inside you as soon as he entered your pussy. 

“I am,” you urged him to continue, your voice quivering. “Just give me a moment, please.”

Dean gave you a kiss to help you relax. He saw that you were a bit anxious and that you needed to wet yourself a little more before you could handle him. He was sure sloppy kisses would be helpful.

Dean stepped back after a while and questioned, “Are you ready now?” You were clenching around him, and his patience was getting thin.

You nodded to him, and Dean retreated and pushed inside again without waiting another moment. The way he fucked you was rough and painful for you. You didn't complain though, even if it was hard to get used to his size and pace in such a short amount of time. He moved slowly at first, but as you got wetter beneath him, he accelerated his pace.

Dean moaned, “You're taking me so well,” while fucking you in a rough way. His delighted tone and praises made your heart sing. “I like how tight you are.”

You only said, "For you." His compliments caused the anguish to become joy, and this time you didn't suppress your moans. You had no idea that you would enjoy this so much. 

“Oh yeah?” he said, teasing as he whispered into your neck, picking up speed. “You sound so sweet. Do you like the way I fuck you? I should have fucked your lovely tight cunt sooner.”

Your face turned red the moment he spoke dirty words into your ear. They were about how much he liked fucking you everything else. The whole room was filled with sloppy and obscene sounds that made you blush with shyness. You were becoming even more excited at the sound of his heavy balls hitting your pussy. You began to tighten up around him. Although you were trying to hold back to extend the moment, you were getting close. 

“This won't take long,” he groaned, getting his fingers tense around your flesh. It was difficult for Dean to control himself. You were tightening around him, whimpering beneath him. “Come to me. Come now!”

When Dean moved around a little inside of you, he started to fuck you harder and find your sensitive spot. With a groan, “Take it. Come on,” he said, fucking you senseless. 

You reached your climax and clenched him with his name on your lips as your screams became louder and you were unable to contain yourself any longer. Dean proceeded to fuck you throughout your climax by lifting your hips and drawing his body to you in order to receive more pleasure. You believed you might come again right there since your pussy was throbbing so much. 

After Dean made sure you rode your orgasm, he let out a deep grumble, pulled out his cock in between your startled gasps, and began to stroke himself. You became excited by his stroking himself on top of you, even though you had just rode your climax. 

When Dean began to empty himself on your thigh and stomach, you jumped. You waited for him to empty himself as you saw him spill his hot white ropes all over your body. You glared in shock as you watched him riding his pleasure.

You were no longer a virgin there, under him. It had happened. You were aware that he was only a friend and that the situation was really a bit awkward. You waited for remorse to surface, thinking that nothing would change with him, but it didn't. You didn't feel any sign of regret. Giving something unique to a loved one, even if it held no significance for them, was never wrong. After all, love was generous, and it always needed to consume the untouched places of your body and spirit.

With a low grunt, Dean moved your bodies on the coach and, to your astonishment, embraced you. It was obvious that he was satisfied. Dean grabbed the blanket that was hanging from the coach's corner and laid it over your bodies. You trembled as the heat took the place of the cold. You simply drew nearer to him to enjoy the moment because you had no idea what to do. You pondered whether this would occur once again. 

Jokingly, you said, “What now?” Still, a lot of questions raced through your head.

Dean sighed and said, “It's pretty late and seems like the rain won't stop any soon, so let's sleep.” You remained silent regarding what had transpired. 

Saying, “Okay,” you leaned into his embrace and made an effort to keep as close to him as you could. The thrill you had just had began to gradually fade away, leaving you alone yourself with despair and sadness. 

Dean remarked, “By the way,” before he closed his eyes. “Let's not talk about this to Sam or someone else, alright?” Though gentle and soothing, his words were sharp and cut you through. 

You said, “Sure,” immediately away. “Of course not.” 

As though nothing had occurred and you weren't naked in each other's arms, you told each other good night. Although it was awkward, you made the choice. When you made the decision to go all the way with him, you knew that was what would happen. 

You got out of bed before Dean did, picked up your clothes from the floor, and headed to the bathroom for a long shower. Whatever is done is done. It was irreversible; you convinced yourself. Nothing was a regret for you. You were relieved that it only happened with Dean. It was the appropriate decision for you to keep the details from him. He wasn't made to feel oppressed by you or anything. This would ruin the friendship and also ruin you. 

Dean also woke up, and you two didn't chat much after that. You felt a little uncomfortable, but as soon as Dean returned to his lighthearted demeanor, you felt at ease and acted naturally. When you saw he didn't put distance between you, you felt relaxed. 

That's how three weeks went by. Everything was well. 

Following a disastrous hunt that left Sam with an arm injury, you enter their home and assist Sam in taking care of his arm. The hunt this time was challenging, and you were distracted. 

Sam was giving you and Dean one of his puppy looks. You felt terrible. 

With remorse, you murmured, “I'm sorry, Sam.” He injured his harm in order to protect you, yet he didn't blame you for anything. You have probably never met someone as kind as he was. 

He said, “It's okay,” and made an agonizing moan as you carefully cleansed his arm. 

Dean snapped, “It's not,” in a harsh voice. He was across the room, observing Sam and you. He had his fists crossed over his chest, obviously frustrated with the current state of things. After all, Sam was his brother. “There, you should have been careful. Sam could have hurt badly because of you.”

“I know,” you said, panicked. “You are right.”

“I don't think so,” Dean stated sharply, glancing at Sam's injured arm. “You've been distracted for a while. I attempted to ignore it and hide the mistakes you made, but today they could end up killing Sam.”

Your pulse raced, and you felt guilty as you proceeded to handle Sam's arm carefully. As he persisted in blaming you, you found it difficult to contain your emotions. 

“It won't happen again,” you stated in a tremulous tone while keeping your gaze on Sam's arm. 

“It's alright. Dean, please stop being so grumpy,” Sam eventually pleaded in an insistent voice.

“You shut up,” Dean said, gesturing to Sam as if he were a little child. In fact, you were aware that he remained a child in Dean's eyes.

As you began to wrap a white cloth around Sam's injured arm, he groaned and pressed his groan back. “You're being annoying right now,” he said.

“I'm going to be more annoying if you two keep acting like this, you know.”

You said, “I'm really sorry,” and you gave Dean and Sam sincere looks. “It really won't happen again.”

Dean nodded at you quickly and sighed. However, it was clear that he was frustrated with you. “He's all I have.”

“I know.”

You and Sam didn't say anything further about what had transpired. Thankfully, despite his curious and suspicious stare, he remained silent. To get better, you had to gather yourself. But it was challenging. You questioned whether being near Dean worked as a deterrent for him to stay away from you. 

A week went by, and Dean came home with a blonde woman by his side as you and Sam were spending the night in the house eating pies and watching a movie.

Jealousy took over you, but you smiled and greeted them instead of pulling a grouchy face and making a scene. Dean's hookups and lovers became routine to you. The things that had happened weeks ago weren't important, even if it was hard to admit. Not a word about it was spoken. 

Last several days, Dean had been annoyed, but when he kissed the blonde, he was a completely different person. Happier, more relaxed. Though your heart was pounding from pain and suffering, your gaze remained riveted on the TV. It was pathetic how much you wanted to be her. It was a hard swallow. 

When she, Dean, or Sam told you something, you smiled and engaged in conversation so as not to arouse suspicion. They eventually made their way to Dean's room, and this is when your eyes started to well up with tears. You were unable to stop it. You uttered a little sound as your heart gripped with so much agony and suffering. You had no idea why. It might all have been different, but it wasn't.

Sam saw your eyes become wetter in the light, and he gave you a dubious look, but none of you said anything. 

You longed to travel back in time as soon as you heard it began to rain outside. This time, you weren't fond of the rain or how it felt. 

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A/N: I hope you like it. Let me know what you think, please.  ^^

[rqnarok]

LINGER | 4,3k

old man!logan x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Being another mutant who survived Charles’ seizures, you are forced to live alongside Logan. The things between you and Logan goes on and off, fragile and indefinite—yet it always lingers.

TAGS AND WARNINGS: smut, mdni! mentions of blood, death, and grief (not logan), lots of angst but lots of fluff too, old man!logan x mutant!reader but unspecified mutation so it’s up to you! minor injuries, nightmares, miscommunication, kind of slow burning (?), pining, logan calls himself ‘old man’ several times, petnames, reader being called ‘kid’ by logan, unrequited love but actually requited (just angst all over…), logan howlett is bad at feelings, love confessions, virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, p with little plot, fingering (f receiving), insecure!reader and insecure!logan, logan loves reader, unprotected p in v.

NOTES: not proofread! bello! ‘m not new to writing but new to writing fan fictions hehe! old man!logan is kinda my everything and this fic is kindaaaa self indulgent. listened to “linger” by the cranberries while writing this :0 feel free to send reqs and feedback to my inbox. this was mere my writing practice and my attempt to gain motivation in life. oh, sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes, eng is not my first language! hope this isn’t my first and last fic.. see u all <3 or not....:p

'Shamed what happened back in the East. 

A saying you heard but don’t know where. Even who said it. Still, you remember all of it—their cries of death, their pain, their suffering. 

A haunting vivid memory in X-Mansion, where all of your friends are lying on the ground, in pain—and you could not do anything. You just watched. In pain, too. There was a thought which you think that it was the end. You were already accepting it with open arms, welcoming your exit.

Then your mutation saved you from your fate. Your survival, at the price of grief. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

Jolted by his comment, you dart your eyes away from the road and into your lap. “Do what?” You mutter quietly, not sure if he even hears it. 

But he always does. “Never mind.” Logan sighs in the damp air. You both know it is better not to talk about what exactly happened back then. Talking is not what you two are best at either. “I asked you a question earlier, you hungry?” 

“A little, yeah. Yeah.” Your gaze sways to his driving figure: how his right hand grips the steering wheel way too tightly, how his soft blue shirt is all wrinkled, how his tired eyes look with those heavy eye bags, and the grey hairs all over his untrimmed beard. He looks worn out. But so are you.

The two of you have been doing this for God knows how long. Wandering from one place to the other with Charles in the backseat. Looking for a place to settle but not really looking for it either. It’s simply a suicide travel. 

He makes a turn towards a cheap-looking diner on your left. 

Northern Mexico. 

A place where you both decided to settle indefinitely. Alongside Charles, who lives in the abandoned smelting plant not so far away. Logan takes up a job as a limo driver in El Paso and every time you tell him you don’t want him to be so far away during the daytime, he always says: One of us has to earn the money, kid.

Kid. 

To this day, after time living together, you aren’t sure of the nature of the relationship between you and Logan. Companions? Friends? Strangers?

Well, one thing you are sure of is you are not his adopted child and he does not see you in that way, either. He sees you in the same way he sees Charles, as his responsibility. 

Before all this, you were aware of him: what he looked like, his mutation, his reputation. But you do not know him personally. You passed him once or twice in the hallways after your studies. That was it. 

All of a sudden, he’s all you have. The only other sane mutant you are fully sure, survived Charles’ seizure. Still, you two weren’t friends before and sure aren’t friends now. In this shared house, you and Logan are strangers—forced to live together on the sole base of sentimentality.

Deep down, you know there is something more. Something vulnerable, down there. Something fragile. There are moments like where-

Your thoughts are frozen by the sudden creaking sound of the front door. The sight of Logan all bloody and bruised entered your wandering vision. The book you were reading is now abandoned as you get up from the comfortable sofa. 

“W-what happened?” Rushing into him with quick movements, this is not the first time he returns all beaten up but it is still a blow to you every single time. You can’t stand the thought of losing another person in your life, even if you convince yourself that he is a mere stranger. 

His white shirt has reds in many parts, and he’s bleeding all over the house, “Some fuckin’ kids tried to mess up with the limo. F-fuck.” With the blood smeared all over his hand, he managed to get into the shared bathroom, his breath coming out short. 

“Wait!” You rushed to his figure with an aid kit in your trembling hands. He slouched forward, cursing himself. Gently, you wrap your arms around him before he falls and help him lean his back on the white tiles behind. 

He shakily opened the buttons of his shirt and you could see everything. While you grab all you need and start cleaning his wounds, he looks at you with his half-lidded eyes. The intense gaze that always makes you want to shy away from him—you are not so sure why. 

After a while, you kneel beside him and break eye contact, “Did you kill them?” you question him carefully as you tread his wounds. Not sure how he would answer tonight. 

Logan grunts when you touch one of his nasty wounds, still looking at you,  “No. But you should see them.” 

You feel uncomfortable at his reply, retreating your hands and facing the mirror, looking down at the sink, “I don’t want to see them, Logan.” At some point, as you search around for more supplies to treat his injuries that still haven’t healed by his mutation, you break down crying. Out of your realisation, you have been holding back your worries and sobs since you saw him. 

Logan, who notices this, pulls you abruptly into him and seats you on one of his thighs. “Hey, hey, why y’crying huh? Hm?” 

You hate this. You hate how you suddenly cry at the sight of him, at the reminder that this is all finite. His big calloused hand starts rubbing up and down your back, gently shushing you. You hate how he knows you all too well by now. 

“I told you to stop doing the job. I-I told you that this… this would happen. I’m always scared. I thought— ” You let out one big sob or whimper, you’re not so sure. Not when he’s cradling you in his arms like this. “You can’t heal like you used to, you can’t barely–”

“Hey, shh, pretty girl,” Pretty girl. You blush at that. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? That’s all that matters.” He shushed you oh, so tenderly. Such a paradox could live inside a man like him. Logan forces himself to smile, “Aren’t I? Come on, feel me up.” Logan sits you up straight on his lap. 

He always does this. Giving out, you delicately place both of your hands on the sides of his face, feeling him up. He watches you brush around his greying beard while holding your waist in place, drawing circles on your skin. “There ‘ya go. I’m here.”

When you feel calm down and tired, you rest your heavy head on his shoulders, “Maybe I should take a turn going to town–” 

He cuts you off while lifting your chin, forcing you to look at him right in the eyes that you were trying so hard to dodge. Without him saying any words, you know he is saying no. Your assumption is confirmed when he shakes his head slightly, looking down at you sternly. 

“It’s just me and you, Logan.” You say meekly and defeatedly. 

“Exactly. That's why it’s gotta be me, baby.” 

Moments later, you continue mending his cuts. And moments after that, you’re both lying together on the bed. Holding each other in slumber. Your head on his chest, his hands on your back. 

Through these delicate moments, you know him. That he is not simply a stranger to you. That this means something more. 

But he does not talk about those moments. Which makes you feel like your perspective is an illusion that you made by yourself, untrue. A false memory that you created in your head because you do feel something for him. 

In the morning, you wake up alone. Logan is nowhere to be seen around the room. Only traces of his scent are left on the white sheets wrapping around your figure. 

When you open the bedroom door, there he is. Sitting on the kitchen chair, his slouched back facing you while he sips on his black coffee which he secretly hates. He likes the coffees that you frequently make for him more. You don’t know that. He never told you. 

“Logan?” you call out to him. But he didn’t budge away from reading the newspaper. As if you weren’t there at all. As if moments like last night never happened. As if it’s true that you are merely a responsibility to him. A burden, even. You hang your head low at his ignorance and retreat to your room.

Such a paradox could live inside a man like him. 

Other moments happened too. One afternoon, his phone suddenly rings while he is out visiting Charles. With all the self-control you have, you try to ignore it, ignore everything that connects to him because it upsets you. But your curiosity gets ahead of your mind and you pick his phone up. 

“Hello?” you place the thing on the side of your left ear. No sound, nothing, nada. Before you know it, you feel a presence behind you and Logan is looking down at you with that look again. 

Snatching his phone away from you, not so gently, he mutters, “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff, huh?” The way he remarks and the way he looks at you makes you feel small and embarrassed. These are the moments where he is not going to cradle you in his arms–you know that. 

Your eyes darted to the floor. The lines on the wood oak floor suddenly seemed very interesting, “I’m- Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. So I thought–” 

“You thought? What? You have the right to?” Logan cuts you off before you finish your poor excuse of explanation. “You have your own pile of shit and I have mine. Stay out of my shit. You understand?” 

Sometimes there are sparks of rage inside of you that make you gain bits of confidence, “Well, we technically live in the same place, so–” 

Though, Logan quickly dims off that spirit by not letting you finish, “Understand?”

You limit yourself to a nod in agreement because you don’t trust your voice. Confusion often fills up your body to the brim. These are the moments you hate. How he treats you differently at one time and another. You hate how he makes you so weak. You hate how he has you wrapped around his fingers. You hate that you don’t have the same effect on him. 

“It’s not your fault, darling.” Charles reasons you one time when you visit him for weekly check-ups. “That man has issues! Even after all these years, I still could not fully understand him and his... complexities.” You force your lips to quirk up a little and pretend as if you justify that, too. But you're in so deep.

Weeks after weeks, it went on like that. You, confused. Logan, indifferent all the time. You miss his touches. Was it just a game to him?

Paralyzed, the color red clouded your vision. You see bodies lying everywhere, dead bodies. The room smells like dread. With what is left, your power manages to slow down the pain that rushes in you. Protect you from the incursion. 

Here, there is no way to hide. Their cries echo through the halls. Their screams still haunt you. 

If you could have saved yourself, you could have saved them too. But you watched them die.

You watched them die. 

You watched them die. 

Inside the dark of your room, you did not realize that you had been thrashing and screaming in your sleep. The nightmare came to you again. Grief shows through in the form of tears, flowing into your cheeks as you open your eyes in fear, “I let them die, I let them die, I let them die–” 

“Sweetheart?” a voice comes from outside your room. Near but so far away.

You kept repeating those words until a figure finally came up in front of you, Logan. He calls out your name, “Hey, no, no–” Now he is touching you all over, trying to stop you from moving rapidly and hurting yourself in the process. Sitting you in front of him and making you face him. Closing your eyes for a brief second, your chest heaving up and down, you remember again and you panic, “I-I watched them die–” your voice wavers. 

“No, shh, keep those eyes open. You’re okay. I’m here.” His hands hold your face and his thumb brush off some of the hair in your wet cheeks. 

“I could’ve saved them. They were dying, they were in pain–” You cry out as the scene on that day played out again. Daunting and haunting you without your consent. Always lingering around on the back of your neck. Only one person knows what it feels like.

Logan’s eyes soften while he remembers that bitter memory too, “So were you,” His voice coaks out, soothing you, “So were you. ‘s not your responsibility.”

At this, you put your arms around his neck and grip him tightly, finally comprehending what is happening. “Calm down, baby. Logan’s here. ‘M not leaving.” He hushed you back to your senses. 

After minutes of him comforting you in silence, his eyes dart to your bleeding lips which you bite to stifle your sobs. With much surprise, Logan parts them and caresses them. Looking at them then back at your eyes, then at your lips again. Your foreheads are now touching and you find yourself nose-to-nose to him.

In your chest, your heart beats so loudly that you fear he may actually hear it. Then with that look that he gives you again, every logical thought and pride you were trying to build, collapses inside you, making you putty in his arms. As you always do. 

But tonight, something more is happening, “Logan.” You managed to call out his name in a whisper, begging for something. He feels the same way too, “I know, baby. I know.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any signs of discomfort as he starts to kiss each one of your cheeks. He tells himself repeatedly in his mind, “No, not her. Anyone but her, you dipshit. You’ll lose her if you do this.” A belief that he has been telling himself every day.

What you don’t know about Logan, after all this time, is how he is afraid that if he touches you, if he shows you his feelings, you will be gone from this world. If he cares about you, he will lose you. He is in fear that the cruel world will take you away. As it always does to people he cared.

Bad shit happens to people I care about. And he managed to hold onto this thinking and compose himself every time.

Until now. 

Your whimpers and pleads get to him–he cannot hold back anymore, he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. He peppers your face with kisses, everywhere but where you need him the most, your lips. “L-Logan…” you feel your face getting hotter every moment. “Ah, p-please–”, you greedily grind your lower body onto his thighs. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He groans while breathing all over your face, “You have no idea what I would do to you, the shit I’d do for you.” One of his hands gets under your nightgown and he succeeds in squeezing your tit. “Ah!” you squeak in surprise and quickly get embarrassed when he chuckles at the noises you make. 

When your gaze meets him, the force can no longer be stopped. What you both try to bury deep down, what you two were locking away in a box, is bolting itself abruptly. The thumps of his heart match yours. There is no going back now.

While breaking a promise, he makes a new promise to himself: that he’d protect you before all the bad shit happens. He will not let any of it get to you. 

After a brief staring contest and lingering doubts, he loses himself, mutters ‘Fuck this shit’ under his breath, and locks his lips on yours, melting you completely into his embrace. You gasp into his mouth and tighten your hug around him. His tongue finds yours sensually as he cradles your head to deepen the kiss. It was the first time he kissed you. 

“It’s just you and me, kid.” He blurted out against your mouth and you could not conceal your smile. Whatever you both were trying to suppress, it’s now roaming free in liberation. 

His mouth grins at your reaction and before he can stop himself, he confesses, “‘M sorry for how I acted these days. This old man was so fuckin’ afraid of how things would turn out.” 

You were about to say it’s okay but he continues, “But he will try his best from now on. What d’ya think? Hm?” Logan looks over at you hesitantly, afraid of what you’d reply. His ‘confession’ does sound way better in his head, when he practiced beforehand. You didn’t know that, of course. 

A giggle went out of your lips, “I think I’d like that.” you say breathlessly before kissing him again. 

Our brain is meant to be effective. It is not designed to be right at all times. Well, sometimes we are right, but we experience the wrongs more. What we thought we knew, we don’t. What we thought we didn't know–maybe we do. Especially about another person and their feelings. Similar to what you thought Logan Howlett feels. 

Following that night, things had changed between the both of you. The ‘boundaries’ separating you two are torn into pieces, in a good way. Now you are reminded by the nature of your relationship through everything. When he comes back home to you every day, when he puts his arms around you while you are cooking dinner, when he kisses the crown of your head before sleeping, when he fixes your favorite kitchen chair, and many other whens. 

Including now, when he kisses you so roughly and gently at the same time, fueled by the desire he kept while he was still stubborn back. Logan hiked up your dress until he could feel your breasts, pinching one nipple.  “Missed you– missed you so much today.” He says while kissing down between your chest and your stomach, “Missed this,” somewhere in between. You are not so sure. 

“Tell me, did you miss me too, Little Missy?” Logan, who is kneeling before, tilts his head upwards so he can see your face. You cover your blushing face, shying away from him and his question like you are used to, “You know the answer.”

He picks you up from the kitchen with one hand and puts you down on your shared bed, “Oh, you don’t wanna say it?” You shake your head in an attempt to tease him. Lying down on your back and with parted legs, you can feel his rough beard while he kisses your inner thigh. “Aight' then, we may just see it.” 

By seeing it, he means ripping your white underwear, the one you adored the most and has a pink ribbon, “Shh. I’ll buy you another one.” Logan quickly says before he can hear your protesting remarks.  

“Really liked that one... ah!” The tip of his tongue probes your entrance without much warning, lapping up and down your cunt. “See, baby? You missed me so much. She’s dripping here.” 

You feel embarrassed with how he is looking at you down there as if he is inspecting you. Unconsciously, you try to close your legs slightly. Logan does not like this as delivers a soft spank to one of your butt cheeks. “So shy all the time when it’s just your old man.”  

Now, his rough hands are gripping each one of your thighs and keeping you in place. His tongue lapped at your pussy—from your hole to your clit, circling and sucking until you can feel his beard slicked up by your juices. Whimpering, your hands desperately pull at his hair, pulling him closer and closer as if he isn’t already eating you up. 

He chuckles darkly when you whine pathetically at the movement of his one thick finger entering your wet hole. “Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He huffed and looked up at you with pure animalistic need as his fingers worked your walls, hitting that gummy spot that had you crying.

“Please! P-please—Logan. Want you inside,” This plead makes Logan stop his actions and glance up at you, questioningly. You weren’t sure about a lot of things, but you are sure about this. “‘M ready, pleaseplease…”  

Logan has been denying you his cock for who knows how long. All this time, he gets you off by his mouth, thighs, fingers, anything except his cock. He always has an excuse, “You’re not ready for me, baby.” Or “This ain’t about me, kid.” Or “My old bones are too tired today. Next time, yeah?” Each one of them frustrates you. 

Your virginity is making him hold himself back. You know this, he knows this. Deep down, he still thinks he is a filthy man who does not fully deserve you and that he is ruining you. He thinks by not penetrating you by his cock, he gains some sense of decency but he really is just unsure. Not about you, no, never. About himself. 

But when you look at him with those big eyes while sprawling yourself bare to him, how could he deny you? “Are you sure? Fuck. Can’t hold myself back anymore.” Logan takes off his crumpled white shirt, undoes his belt, and tosses them away, making a clinking sound that echoes through the room. His eyes grew dark with raw desire as he brought down his pants and fists his large cock in his hand. All while looking at you. 

“Yes! Please, please, give it to me. ‘Can take it!” You snapped with excitement and lean up, pressed a kiss to a part of his greying beard—the older man grins at your eagerness. “You’re going to be the death of me, pretty girl.” Logan lifts both of your legs and puts his mouth on your mound once more, making sure that you’re ready and you haven’t changed your mind.

Between his hunger licks on your pussy and the probes of his thick fingers, he mutters, “I fuckin’ love you.” And that statement itself makes you cry out his name and come all over his fingers and tongue, “L-Logan!”

“Atta girl.” You arch your back in a euphoric state of your orgasm. He could smell you. Every part of you. “So beautiful. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

He helps you remove every fabric you had on, your pretty white sundress, your bra, your socks—everything that is separating you and him. Now you and he are completely bare, “All this for your old man, huh?” He mumbles the rhetorical question into the chilly air, his hands ghosting over your perked nipples and pinching them softly, then kisses each one of them. He goes down on you again and kisses your clit one more time. 

The sight of him makes your breath caught in your throat. You swallow your spit at the look of greying bread glistening with your cum, at the sight of his thick cock springing against his stomach. “Is my baby ready for me?” You nod your head eagerly at him, assuring him that this is what you want. 

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself between your bodies, “Use your big girl words, darlin’” He nudges at your already wet entrance, waiting for your response, taking his time with you. 

“‘M ready..! I want this, want you.” You pamper kisses all over his face the same way when he comforts you during your nightmare. His forehead meets yours and he kisses your lips gently as a form of understanding your needs. “Hold on t’me, my sweet girl.” 

Then his tip slips inside and you gasp into his mouth, “Good girl. My good girl. You can take it.” You tighten your grip around him as he pushes himself deep inside you, “D-Doing so good, baby. Just a little more,” down to the hilt—his cock bottoms out, “There ya’ go, princess.” Logan coos at your trembling state. 

He swallows your moans with a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the insides of your mouth. “Feel so fuckin’ good. I fuckin’ love you.” There he says it again while he pulls himself all the way out to just the tip, then all the way back in—making you throw your head upwards.

Logan growls and kisses your bare neck, leaving some marks on it but you don’t care, in fact, you want him to. “I love you too, Logan.” You utter those words to him as he rams into you, his thrusts going faster and faster as he loses himself watching you. The friction of his cock against the velvet walls of your cunt is addictive, the pleasure makes the older man grunts. 

He thrusts harder, his hips slamming into home, the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, alongside your little ah ah ah's . 

"Cum for me, baby. Come for your old man." With one final, powerful thrust, he releases inside your tight heat, his warm seed filling you as he curses and lets his head fall onto your embrace.

"Ah!" You shudder as you clench tight around him and milk his cock. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your body giving out of control as you experience another release of the night. 

Logan lifts his head to scan over the scene before him. He had never seen anything like it and he had seen a lot of shit. Your figure is all fucked out and filled. He didn’t think anything could be more beautiful than what he has right now. And he says it again before bringing his lips into yours, “It’s just you and me.” 

You tiredly return his kiss and look at him with a soft smile, “It’s just you and me.” 

His meaningless and plain life becomes something again because of you. You are the anchor of his life and his reason not only to stay but to fight and protect. 

Logan knows there are things that can be stopped, but then there is love.

He is in so deep too. This time, the both of you willingly let it linger. It’s just you and him.