#hint hint it's more on brand for what i Usually draw :] //loud wink//

[xxplastic-cubexx]

commission !!!!!

Comm Info (Nov. 9th, 2024)

[hunnybadgerv]

Fevered Observations | Guardians in the Darkness [Nyx Shepard/Kaidan Alenko]

Summary: Nyx and Kaidan practice long distance flirting while keeping up polite appearances.

a/n:  Prompted by @painterofhorizons for #1 (Good sex deserves to be loud) from the SEXY PROMPTS meme

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Fevered Observations

-1-

Kaidan arrived early. Of course, he did, Nyx thought as he stepped through the door with that damnable grin, holding a bottle like he had that night not so long ago on the Normandy. Just a drink, he’d said.

She knew better as soon as he’d said it, but the distraction had been so much more than welcome. And it would have been just as welcome again, if he’d been about thirty minutes earlier, but with the whole crew and then some scheduled to be at her apartment in a little more than 10 minutes.

His smile had always been her kryptonite, even more so when his amber eyes twinkled with a fire that threatened ignite every inch of her skin into a raging inferno. She gulped down a deep breath when his empty hand grazed over her hip, dipping to the small of her back. The gentle pressure of his familiar touch was all the encouragement she needed to press her body against his. Nyx let her head fall back to welcome his warm lips.

Nyx drew her fingers through the shorter hair at the back of his neck as a perfunctory hello peck became a more proper, passionate greeting. Ignoring the press of the bottle cap under her shoulder blade, Shepard reveled in his embrace. Kaidan enveloped her; Nyx lost herself to the sensations of him—the prickle of his stubble, the firmness of his chest, and the plushness of his lips. His thick arms tightened around her—as if he could pull her into him. And her head spun as she clung to his broad frame.

There was a softness to his kiss despite the bruising pressure of his mouth on hers. His tongue peeked past her lips, probing her mouth with teasing little flicks and long lunges. Nyx fisted her hand into his shirt, as if holding on for dear life. She’d learned one thing in her fight against the Reapers it was not to take a single second for granted, not to save for later what she could savor right then and there.

With Kaidan, that outlook intensified. She’d died once—abandoning him—then lost him a second time. She’d missed too much already to skimp on showing him how much he meant to her now. Her thigh eased against his leg. She all but dangled from his broad shoulders and replied to his deepening of the kiss with a greedy thrust of her own tongue past his lips. The hum reverberating through his chest seemed to vibrate through her as well.

“I love that sound,” Kaidan growled at her, breaking the kiss, but only enough to catch a breath.

“So do I,” she agreed, though meaning something else entirely.

His forehead rested against hers, and he brushed the tip of her nose with his. They shared breath, eyes locked. With the way he looked at her, Shepard felt like the only other person in the galaxy, like the lone planet basking in the warm, amber glow of his gaze.

“It always works its way down my spine in the most delicious way,” she told him, with a tiny shift of her hips.

As his grin widened, he made that sound again and tasted her lips. She pulled at the back of his neck in an effort to keep his mouth on hers. She wanted to keep him from ending this kiss too soon; wanted to hold onto the resonance of him just a little longer.

“Good to know, but I meant that sweet hum of yours,” he countered, leaving her wanting more.

“I wasn’t humming.”

Kaidan’s smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I assure you, Nyx, you were. Both times.” A flare of desire flashed in his gaze. “Want to go for a third?” He didn’t wait for an answer before the distance started to close, only to be halted by a shrill alarm.

It was her turn to growl, but hers came out more irritated than elated. Her embrace loosened, but Kaidan squeezed her tighter. “Where are you going?”

“Kaidan, the cookies are going to burn.”

His brow furrowed. “You made cookies?”

She slithered out of his grip with a heavy dose of reluctance. “It depends on your definition of ‘made,’” she said with a giggle as she hurried across the living room.

Kaidan followed, each footstep echoing through the room and her head—her pulse almost seemed to match the staccato beat of that rhythm. It had her regretting not waking him up that morning, maybe if she’d disturbed his sleep she wouldn’t be quite so susceptible to his mere presence now. Of course, that was just wishful thinking. He always affected her, even more so when it was just the two of them.

He leaned against the counter and watched her spatula cookies off the sheet then transfer them onto a cooling rack.

“I think the only thing that could make this more adorable would be one of those frilly aprons,” he teased.

“I’m not sure you could pull off the ruffles,” she teased.

“Oh, I assure I can pull off a lot of things. But you. I think something in a red check would bring out the fire in your eyes.”

“I can kill you with this spatula,” she assured, brandishing it at him, but her laughter would take any sting out of the playful, toothless threat.

“But you wouldn’t because I brought your favorite.” The thunk of the glass on the counter brought her attention to the bottle he’d brought. She merely assumed it was his brand of whiskey.

The corner of her mouth twitched into a surprised smile at the familiar label—English Harbor. “How the hell did you find that?”

“I have my ways.” His usually easy grin took on a cocky bent.

“Here I thought you were only going to use your Spectre powers for good,” she chided, abandoning the cookies and rounding the counter. Her hand slid along the length of his arm, draping over his shoulder.

He tipped his head. “How is making the love of your life smile a bad thing?”

Nyx laughed, her other hand following a similar track as the first until it met the other behind his neck. Kaidan gripped her hips, thumbs rubbing tiny circles near the bones of her pelvis.

“Besides, that’s not how I found it,” he said, pecking the tip of her nose.

“Oh, really?”

“Turns out you and Bailey have the same tastes in rum.”

Her brow pulled together and her head fell back a little as she looked at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

Kaidan nodded. “I wouldn’t have figured that one either.”

She chuckled, that was unexpected information. “Thank you,” she replied, rising up on her tiptoes.

This kiss barely had a chance to build before another chime interrupted them. This time the buzzer wasn’t so innocuous as sweets, it announced the arrival of their crew.

“Could you put those last two pans in the oven for me?” she asked slipping out of his arms again.

Why did he only arrive a few minutes early? she thought with a hint of a pout on her lips. The thought mingled with a blooming frustration as she crossed to the front door to greet the first arrivals. She stole more than a few glances back toward the kitchen, where Kaidan leaned on the counter staring at her with a dark, sultry look that stole her breath from her chest. She couldn’t help but want to be a part of whatever was playing out in his head, but, alas, that would have to wait.

 -2-

The party picked up quickly. After Liara, Dr. Chakwas, and Miranda arrived, the others trickled in at a steady pace. It placed an expectation on Shepard. But Nyx played the role of hostess well—making sure tasty bites and goodies were available and that drinks were filled, she kept the music at a level that encouraged dancing while still allowing for conversation, and she kept the conversation moving and flowing as she checked in with her friends.

Kaidan left her to those hostess duties, admiring rather than impeding. He leaned against the glass of the full-sized windows in the living room, watching her. Besides a few quick little chats with his peers, he’d mostly been left on his own to nurse his whiskey and his desire.

Once in a while, she’d look over and catch him observing her. The time he winked, she gave him a sweet smile. The raise of his glass, earned a laugh. But his unwavering stare seemed the most successful.

In one instance, she bared her neck, pulling her long, honey blonde hair over one shoulder to show off that long column of supple flesh. He studied it with the same care and precision he would put into kissing and nibbling at that thin skin.  

Later in the evening, the same intense attention earned a wiggle as she chatted with Liara. The shift of her hips was subtle, though the recrossing of her legs wasn’t; deep down he’d hoped that movement had been to combat a tingle building between her thighs. A tingle he’d love to deepen until she couldn’t do anything but call out his name.

Of course, he wasn’t the only one playing that game. Nyx knew how to draw his attention. That sweeping motion that left him staring at her neck intensified his building desire to mar the smooth skin with a pink-red jagged half-moon shaped bite marks that would glow against her pale throat. Crossing her legs or brushing her calves against one another, locked his eyes and his thoughts on the shape of them. The curve and power. Without a doubt, drawing his attention to her strong legs would leave him thinking about having them wrapped tight around his waist. Kaidan also knew just the right amount of pressure to use when tracing the muscular shape of her calf to spark a stampede of goosebumps. A charge he’d happily chase with lingering open-mouthed kisses.

Even though she talked to everyone except him, she still managed to flirt with him. When her fingertip traced the neckline of her dress from near her shoulder and over the swell of her breast, it was a tease just for him. When his gaze rose to hers, those vibrant blues eyes were locked on him. For what seemed the first time that night, she was standing alone. Slipping a hand in his pocket, he closed the distance between them without losing her attention for a second.

“You’re quite adept at this,” he said, ignoring the polite, public standards of personal space and standing far too close, though not close enough for his personal tastes.

When Nyx shifted even closer, Kaidan figured she didn’t mind his presumption. “My parents were both officers, I’ve been to this sort of thing before. Though this is loads more fun than any of those stuffy command dinner parties.”

He nodded in silence.

Nyx looked up at him, her head shifting just so as to put that lovely neck of hers on display again. Her voice dropped to a honey-coated whisper that sparked along his nerves and wrapped tight around his groin. “You’ve been staring at me all night, Major.”

“I assure you, it’s not just tonight.”

She laughed and strangely a hint of pink chased across her cheeks. It wasn’t like Nyx to blush, at least not usually.

“I don’t think I told you earlier, but you look amazing.” He let his gaze caress every inch of her body with an untempered rapaciousness that he couldn’t yet telegraph to his fingertips. He kept both of his hands politely tucked into the pockets of his trousers, just as she kept her hands to herself for the moment.

“Thank you,” she dipped a little with a shallow curtsy. The strangeness of the gesture widened his grin. “You look pretty good yourself.” Finally, her fingers teased against the fabric of his shirt as her thumb traced the top of the V of his hip, it never dropped past his waistband, much to his dismay.

The pair of them stared at one another, bodies close enough that he could feel her breasts brush against his chest with every breath she took. The light scratch of her nails, sweeping downward along that intimate slope of his pelvis, didn’t help his willpower, nor did the fact they were steps from her bedroom.

Leaning toward her, he heard her breath catch when he whispered in her ear. “You do realize that you’re making it incredibly difficult for me to come up with convincing reasons not to drag you away from this party of yours.”

The way she smiled up at him, almost made the metaphorical angel on his shoulder faint and give up his battle to keep the little devil inside him in check.

“Why on Earth would you do a thing like that?”

“I can think of a hundred reasons.”

“Such as?” The purr in her voice did things to his body and mind.

“Hearing you say my name in that tone of voice for one,” he told her.

“Kaidan,” she replied, her breath teasing across his lips.

Throwing caution and propriety to the wind, Kaidan slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She gasped, as if his reaction had surprised her. With little more than a quick glance to confirm no one was watching the two of them, he pulled her into her blacked-out bedroom.

With a soft thud her shoulders connected with the wall, Kaidan’s mouth on hers muffled the quiet groan that almost escaped her lips. Her hands moved over his chest with fervor, as his  cradled her cheeks to facilitate the kind of kiss he’d been aching to give her since their short time alone before the party had been interrupted.

 -3-

All his staring had Nyx hot and bothered. She swore she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and every time she had looked over at him, the intensity of it just left her in a more flushed state. Even trying to get him back seemed to have backfired—it just left her more desperate to feel the touch her mind conjured in far too vivid detail; it left her skin blazing.

Finally having his lips on hers, however, seemed to just make that gently roaring fire flash over. Sandwiched between him and the wall, she used the leverage the position gave her to press her body firmly against his. Her hands skimmed his waist then grabbed that noteworthy ass to pull his hips flush with hers. Kaidan swallowed the moan that broke free when she found evidence that maybe her retaliations might have been more successful than she imagined.

Her hands went to his fly, freeing his cock easily as his mouth blazed a heated trail down her neck. Her teeth buried in her bottom lip as she tried to stifle the sounds he inspired. When he bit her neck, she squeaked. It seemed so much louder in the darkness.

While she froze, her lover didn’t stop. One strap of her dress slipped over her shoulder a moment prior to his fingers tugged at fabric aside to expose her breast; his hot mouth sealed over her nipple before she could argue or suggest someone might hear. Instead, her thoughts swirled in her head, while naught but soft pleased sighs escaped her lips in reply to the tender attentions he paid to her body.

She felt his fingers against her thighs, and managed to catch his wrists before her skirt ended up around her waist.

“Kaidan,” she whispered in a tone just shy of alarmed. “Someone’s going to hear.”

She almost regretted her reason for halting his progress instantly. The absence of his mouth made her tight nipple ache, a sensation that now echoed between her legs.

He leaned over her, features barely noticeable in the stark darkness. But that voice, thick with need and desire washed over her. “It’s possible.” His fingertips swirled around her bare breast. And she could almost imagine the look in his eyes—somewhere between intoxicated and considerate. “Do you want me to stop?”

Stars, that was a good question. She didn’t answer immediately, taking a moment to consider all the options. As if trying to nudge her toward a decision, Kaidan pinched her nipple, sending a shock through her nervous system.

“I hate to, but I will. Just tell me what you want, Nyx.” His voice purred in her ear, his lips brushing the lobe in a way that made her want to feel his teeth tugging at it.

She didn’t want him to stop, but she also worried someone might hear. “Do you think the music is loud enough?” she asked as her hands abandoned him to turn to the interface of her omni-tool. She nudged the volume upward, then increased it a little bit more in the quadrant nearest the bedroom. “That should work, right?”

In the glow of her tool she caught a quick glimpse of the smirk he wore, the hungry way he looked at her. The weight of his gaze made it a little harder to breathe. The next moment she was plunged back into darkness and the next his forehead rested against hers.

“You do realize—” his voice—low and rumbling, painted with a shadowy, sultry tinge—reverberated through her as his hands returned to the her thighs, “—you might have to hold back a little, Nyx.” She could feel the brush of his lips against hers with certain sounds, but still he didn’t kiss her. His fingers ghosted over her thighs, causing little muscle tremors here and there. As if by magic, his touch inched up with the retreat of her hem. “But only if you’re really worried about them hearing, or caring enough to investigate a sound that’s clearly an orgasm.”

She gasped when those playfully dancing fingers grazed the soft fabric between her legs. Nyx immediately wondered why they didn’t do this in the dark more. Not seeing him, not being able to predict from the movement of his eyes or his hands what he was going to do was deliciously maddening.

The potential for social regret gave way to his intensity. She wanted him, that was all she thought about as he loomed over her. His hands pinched and caressed skin, sending shivers and shocks through her body like her own personal storm, which only intensified as the hem of her skirt receded.

“I thought you were of the opinion that good sex deserves to be loud?” she teased.

“Challenge accepted,” he said quickly before renewing the kiss.

His mouth on hers stole her breath, even though she’d been waiting for it. She couldn’t hug him quite the way she wanted, with one arm pinned in a halfway pulled down sleeve that exposed one breast. She gave up trying and let that hand skim higher, wrapping it around his cock. Nyx swallowed his groan and twisted her hand in the hopes of earning another.

She broke the kiss with a gasp, when his fingers pressed over her clit and inched further.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbled against her cheek.

“You’ve been staring at me all night like you wanted to fuck me right then and there.” Her voice broke on the last words when his finger slipped into her.

“Touché. I might have imagined that very scenario once or twice,” he admitted, stealing a kiss. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head all night. The taste of your lips.” He punctuated his revelation with a lingering kiss. “The way your skin would feel against mine.” There was a low growl clinging to his voice as his lips brushed her cheek.

“Kaidan,” she whined on a whisper as his lips moved lower.

“I could almost feel the bite of your nails scraping across my back, my chest. The feathery caress of your breath in my ear.” He placed kisses along her neck between every word.

Her hand stroked his cock, greedily pointing it toward her hips, which rocked against his touch as he lavished her in the sensations she’d been thinking about, too. “More,” she said, only barely finding the coherence to form the demand.

“Watching you walk, all I could think of was the way your hips move against mine. The way your back arches when I suck your nipples hard. Each time you threw your head back in a laugh, I could almost hear the way you keen when I bury my cock inside you,” he told her as he thrust into her hands. She sighed as his words brought the very sensation to her mind as well. His nose tickled along the length of her neck. “The way your pussy tightens when I pinch your nipples or bite your neck.”

He demonstrated the latter, and her body flexed in reply. “Kaidan,” she whimpered again.

“Yes, Nyx.”

Her lips found his and she kissed him with desperation, wordlessly begging him to do more than tell her what he wanted to do to her.

Kaidan knew what she was doing as well as she did. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

“Please, Kaidan.”

“Please, what?”

All this talking seemed counter to the point of holding back or being quiet. She managed to move in such a way as to just barely tease her clit with the tip of his cock, but he refused to indulge her.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged.

Nyx grabbed the back of his neck, her lips brushing against his. “I want to feel you inside me,” she said, perhaps a little too loudly, but her frustration was winning out.

Once she gave her desire voice, Kaidan didn’t make her wait. Pulling his fingers out of her, he tugged one of her legs over his hip. At that change, she released him and grabbed onto Kaidan’s waist for stability. Nyx buried her face against his chest just in time to muffle a low moan that escaped her as he guided his cock into her.

Curling his fingers under her chin, he brought her lips to his. They stayed like that, only breaking the kiss to gasp for the occasional breath that they couldn’t steal from the other’s lungs. Their mouths muffled some of the sounds of their passion as their bodies gave in to a biological imperative. They swallowed moans and whimpers, groans and grunts, as their bodies worked in tandem delivering on those sensations they had been imagining most of the night.

Her nails bored into his back, as his hips snapped against hers. Every rotation of his fingertips around her clit brought a whimper to her throat. To her own ears the sound seemed to get louder every single time his hips clapped against hers, but a part of her didn’t care—she damn sure didn’t want him to stop.

“Fuck, Nyx” Kaidan gasped in the absence of sound that signaled the cusp of Nyx’s orgasm. Her body tightened against and around him. His smooth movements roughed. Then his mouth found hers again as a long deep moan broke free from her throat. Moments later, he grunted into her mouth with his own orgasm. They rode one another’s climaxes out, oblivious to anything beyond the two of them in that instant.

She held him tight, dotting his lips with soft kisses. Kaidan cradled her body against his; neither of them rushed to separate. Deepening one of his sweet kisses, she had to admit that maybe there was something to quiet sex—sealing his mouth with hers, consuming every ounce of his desire. It was greedy and glorious. But her reverie was cut short by the vibrant laughter that invaded the darkness from the other room.

“We should probably get back,” Nyx whispered.

Kaidan didn’t move. “Or we could say hang the party.”

Shepard tried to summon up an argument.

“There is that huge tub.”

“I think Zaeed might have booby trapped it.”

Kaidan’s chuckle rumbled through her. “Well, guess it’s lucky I spent some time with that salarian EOD team.” He shifted, lowering her leg and baring her heated flesh to the chilly breeze of the environmental system. “C’mon.”

She laced her fingers into his and followed him across the room, stepping out of her heels as they went. Certainly none of their friends would fault them for disappearing early, she thought as they slipped through the bathroom door and closed it behind them. His lips were on hers again before the lights even came up, but Shepard had no complaint about that fact. She merely savored every moment they claimed together.

[daemour]

You’re Still My Universe pt. 4

Title: You’re Still My Universe

Pairing: Jinyoung x BamBam

Genre: Fluff, hint of angst, parent au

Warnings: VerY direct references to sex

Word count: 3024

Summary: Jinyoung’s life is devoted to his son. But the first time he’s been separated, so many other people barge into his life and start taking up what little free time he has left.

inyoung misses Yugyeom. Yes, it’s only been three days since Jinyoung dropped him off at Jaebeom and Youngjae’s, but he really missed him. He misses being woken up at odd hours of the night when Yugyeom has a nightmare and wants to cuddle with Daddy, he misses making pancakes on weekends for a giggly child, and he misses Yugyeom’s kisses.

Yes, he’s been able to focus on work and they’re happy about it, but Jinyoung hopes they don’t take it for granted. As soon as Yugyeom is with him again Jinyoung swears he might even spoil Yugyeom a little more. He’s been moping around the house every time he comes back from work, half-expecting Yugyeom to be running around and trying to climb up his legs.

He should probably go out to take his mind off the empty and silent apartment before all his time is taken up by Yugyeom again. Jinyoung can hear Jaebeom in his head telling him to go do what kids his age do, even if Jaebeom is only a few months older than Jinyoung.

With great difficulty, Jinyoung gets up from the couch where he had been nursing an almost empty soju. He was just so comfortable. God, he feels older by the minute. Today it’s lounging on the couch, tomorrow it will be retirement.

Jinyoung is too lazy to put on something nicer than the wide-legged pants Jaebeom laughs at and a regular tee shirt, he really does feel like a middle-aged man. But in an effort to save his fashion sense, he puts on his scarf and a jacket before heading out. It’s early April, a little cold for his liking but that just makes going out to a nice, warm, place all the better.

He heads almost immediately to the bar he and Jaebeom used to frequent during their university years. It had been so long that Jinyoung was slightly awkward inside for the first few minutes. It was both familiar and yet different and Jinyoung wasn’t sure if he liked it. Different people, different decorations, and yet, there was a sense of familiarity there.

The bartender is different. Last time Jinyoung went there it was a kind old man who would always give him and Jaebeom an extra drink if it was a slow day. Now, it’s some young man who Jinyoung doesn’t recognise, and who might be foreign. Jinyoung wasn’t ever any good at telling the difference, but the person’s aura doesn’t seem Korean. Jinyoung wonders if he’s just as good at making drinks.

Only one way to find out, he guesses. He orders a quick drink, his usual bokbunja, and watches the bartender out of the corner of his eye. The bartender seems natural, smiley even as he takes orders from not so nice people. Jinyoung thinks he was a good choice of bartender. He had such a pretty smile too.

He wishes Jaebeom was here, Jaebeom always liked looking at eye candy with him. Jinyoung pulls out a phone, taking a quick picture of the menu and sending it to Jaebeom for old times’ sake. He gets a reply soon after of his son sleeping on the couch with the cats, and Jinyoung coos under his breath.

The clinking of a glass draws Jinyoung’s attention away from his phone. The bartender had served his drink with a smile. “What’s got you so peppy?” Jinyoung returned the smile.

“My friend just sent me a picture of my kid and his cats. It’s really cute, do you want to see?” Jinyoung may be a bit of an idiot, showing off pictures of his kids to random people, but he feels like he’s doing the world a service. To his credit, the bartender leans over the counter, smiling wide enough for his thick lips to be stretched thin.

“Of course. How old is he now?” Jinyoung turns the phone around with a proud father's smile. The bartender laughs. “He’s very cute, what’s his name?”

Jinyoung can feel his heart blooming with pride. He now knows what his father felt like when Jinyoung was younger and carted around in a stroller. “He’s four, and his name is Yugyeom.” Jinyoung smiles back at the picture. He should make it his lock screen. And home screen. In fact–

Jinyoung saves the picture, immediately setting it to the picture, and the bartender laughs. “Seems like you really love your son. Your friend’s watching over him, right? So are you relaxing with your partner then?”

Jinyoung takes a sip of his drink to prolong giving his answer. The downside of meeting new people was having to remember that Yugyeom has only one parent. “Ah, his mother died in a car crash three years ago.” He downs the drink, letting the sweet alcohol wash away his bitterness.

The bartender’s eyes immediately soften. “Oh, damn, I’m sorry man. That sucks-" his eyes dart around, catching on a new customer, and he excuses himself with a smile. Jinyoung’s eyes follow him again, smile tugging at the corner of his lips. This man was nice enough, friendly and kind.

His phone binged again, and Jinyoung unlocked it, smiling slightly at his brand new lock screen. Jaebeom had texted him; ‘isn’t the deco a bit different?’ and Jinyoung was immediately launching into a whole paragraph or three about the new bartender. He could tell Jaebeom was just responding to respond, not because he was interested, but Jinyoung couldn’t help himself.

The bartender, now that Jinyoung thought about it, was young. Younger than him, maybe. He had a nice smile too, and big eyes that really did make him seem younger. And pretty lips. And he always smiled at the customers, even the slightly pissed ones, offering them a laugh and a drink.

“I’m glad to see you think so highly of me,” the peppy voice caused Jinyoung to look up from his phone and straight into the bartender’s eyes. The words and the meaning behind them took a moment to register, but when it did, Jinyoung’s face burned hot red and he almost threw his phone across the counter.

“I– It’s not-" Jinyoung stammers out, and the bartender just laughs.

He leans across the counter once more, winking. “Maybe you should know my name first, cutie. I’m BamBam.” Jinyoung’s face turns even redder, and BamBam laughs again. “And you are?”

“I’m Park Jinyoung.” BamBam laughs again.

“So stiff, so formal. C’mon, man, crack a smile!” Jinyoung lets the corner of his mouth pull up, and BamBam mirrors it, only wider. It came so easily to him. Jinyoung wishes he could feel as young as he is. He can’t remember the last time he was out and having fun like this.

Even Jaebeom, only a few years older, had time to do this, even married and trying to get through the adoption process. Sometimes, Jinyoung felt like he was losing himself in Yugyeom, losing who he was. He knows it's a far reach, but he feels tired sometimes. BamBam is still smiling, letting Jinyoung work through his tangled thoughts and feelings.

“Sorry,” Jinyoung finally says. He doesn’t know what he’s apologising for, and neither does BamBam.

“Hey, man, I don't think you’re that much older than me, right? Come on, drop the formalities.”

Jinyoung arched a brow. “I’m still a customer, you’re providing me with a service.” BamBam laughed again. He and Jackson were similar in that aspect, never running out of smiles and giggles.

“Well, it’s a good thing my shift ends in ten. Will you stay?” Jinyoung doesn’t know what his ace looks like right now but it must be funny considering BamBam laughs. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know.”

“I don’t know how– I-" Jinyoung flounders for an excuse and BamBam laughs, leaning forward and closing Jinyoung’s open mouth.

“Let me finish up back and when my coworker arrives I’ll come and join you.” Wait, BamBam wants to join him? Before Jinyoung can ask why, BamBam darts off and Jinyoung is left with an empty glass and a bemused smile. BamBam isn’t the same as he is, not at all, but somehow Jinyoung finds that endearing.

The wait is not too long, someone enters and takes their place behind the bar. Jinyoung is about to order another drink when lanky arms loop around his shoulders. He jumps, looking to his right, and there is BamBam grinning at him like a cheshire cat. Jinyoung tries not to be embarrassed but he can feel his ears heat up and BamBam laughs again. His voice is a lot rougher than Jinyoung remembers.

“Hi,” the greeting comes out of Jinyoung’s mouth a lot softer than he’d like and BamBam giggles again.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Before Jinyoung can answer, BamBam turns to the new bartender, exchanging low pleasantries and ordering a drink. Jinyoung once again finds himself looking at BamBam’s gorgeous side profile. He doesn’t know why, but Jinyoung is drawn to him, and it didn’t help that BamBam is insanely pretty. “You could take a picture, you know. It’d last longer.”

BamBam had caught Jinyoung staring again, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I”—Jinyoung fumbles for words as BamBam laughs—”I– do you find joy in teasing me?”

Jinyoung expected an answer that wasn’t flirty, but he had underestimated BamBam apparently. The much skinnier bartender leans in close, breath ghosting over Jinyoung’s cheek. Jinyoung is practically frozen in his seat as BamBam whispers in his ear, “Yes.”

Jinyoung feels like he could explode from the inside, face burning hot and BamBam cackling at his expense. “Stop teasing me,” he whines, “Aren’t I older than you?” BamBam laughs again.

“I don’t know, how old are you?” Jinyoung tells him, and BamBam laughs again. “You are older than me by three years, oppa.” BamBam emphasizes the honorific, and Jinyoung chokes on air, heat pooling in his stomach at the sound of it.

“What the fu-” BamBam cuts him off with an elbow.

“No cursing in the establishment, hyung.” Jinyoung glares at BamBam with no bite.

“You are a pain in my ass,” Jinyoung decides out loud, and BamBam snorts, leaning in and fluttering his eyes at the older, who pointedly turns his head away.

BamBam laughs again, whining and pushing his head into Jinyoung’s shoulder. “Stop ignoring me, hyung,” he draws out the last syllable of the honorific, “Pay attention to me.” Jinyoung turns his eyes to BamBam, mouth tightening at the sight of BamBam’s usual shit-eating grin.

“Then”—Jinyoung is the one leaning forward this time, hand coming around and sliding down to the small of BamBam’s back—”don’t be a brat, BamBam-ah.” BamBam is finally startled, his eyes quavering and his mouth moves from a smile to a gasp.

Jinyoung smiles in satisfaction, not missing the way BamBam’s eyes flick to his lips. He returns to his original sitting posture, and BamBam almost immediately downs his drink. There’s a moment of silence, where Jinyoung and BamBam just sit there and look at each other, until BamBam finally reaches forward and interlaces his fingers with Jinyoung’s.

“Let’s get out of here, hyung.” Jinyoung’s eyes shift to look at BamBam’s hand holding his, feeling his heart warm. “Hyung?”

Jinyoung shakes his head to get out of his thoughts, smiling at BamBam. “Yeah. Where do you wanna go?” BamBam laughs.

“My place, you can meet my cats. I saw your son, let me show you mine,” BamBam jokes and Jinyoung snorts, bumping his broad shoulder into BamBam’s thinner one. The younger whines playfully, pinching Jinyoung with his free hand. “Hyung, stop playing around.” Jinyoung just laughs again, and BamBam doesn’t wait for a response, pulling Jinyoung out of the bar and down the street.

Apparently BamBam didn’t live far, his apartment building only a few blocks away. In the elevator, no words were exchanged. BamBam had pulled Jinyoung in by his neck and pressed a kiss to the older’s lips and the night had started.

Jinyoung’s free hand (the two hadn’t stopped holding hands) made its way to the small of BamBam’s back again, holding him close. BamBam’s lips were full and chapped, and Jinyoung couldn’t get enough of them. But the elevator dings, the doors open, and BamBam pulls away. Jinyoung pouts at the loss, but BamBam pays no heed, dragging Jinyoung down into his apartment.

The door bursts open and BamBam soon pins Jinyoung to the closed door behind him, mouth finding his. “Fuck– BamBam-” Jinyoung gasps out and BamBam laughs breathily. “Don’t worry, hyung, I’ll take care of you, you big baby.”

The words startle Jinyonug, and his eyes narrow, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against BamBam’s. “Hm. I think it’ll be the other way, BamBam-ah. Don’t forget, baby, I’m the hyung.” BamBam’s eyes light up with desire and Jinyoung’s hands travel down, ready for a busy night.

And it certainly was busy. When Jinyoung woke up in BamBam’s apartment the next day, his head hurt like hell. He didn’t really know why, but it probably had something to do with how he kept accidentally knocking his head against the headboard, and possibly how he and BamBam drank even more right before heading to bed for one last round before falling asleep.

Now that he thinks about it, his everything hurts. His legs hurt, his arms hurt, his head hurts, and his dick and ass definitely hurts. But his heart is warm, and his body is warm as well, thanks to BamBam curling around Jinyoung’s waist and burying his head in Jinyoung’s shoulder. Jinyoung’s arm is trapped under BamBam’s shoulders, which may be part of the reason it aches, but he doesn’t really mind. Especially after last night.

Jinyoung can’t help himself, tilting his head and pressing a kiss to BamBam’s temple. He’s grown fond of the younger man. When they weren’t fucking, BamBam was always friendly and funny, and liked to play cards and watch dramas which Jinyoung appreciated. And his cats were adorable.

One, Jinyoung thinks is King, was curled up at the foot of the bed. Jinyoung doesn’t quite know how it got in, but he doesn’t mind, making soft noises to draw the cat over. King doesn’t care at first, but after a few minutes he wanders over, settling on Jinyoung’s chest like he owns it. The weight is comforting, and Jinyoung could almost fall asleep again.

However, before he can, BamBam stirs and yawns, eyes flickering open, his eyelashes tickling Jinyoung’s shoulder. Jinyoung giggles at the sensation, and BamBam smiles lazily up at Jinyoung. “Morning, hyung,” he says, breath ghosting over Jinyoung’s collarbone, eyes still trained on the older.

“Good morning, BamBam,” Jinyoung responds, smiling back and leaning down the best he can to press another kiss to BamBam’s forehead. “Did you sleep well?” BamBam laughs, rough and low in his throat.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, hyung? After all, you’re my guest.” Jinyoung just laughs, and King presses a paw into his cheek in retaliation at the movement. BamBam snickers. “It seems like you’re stuck in my bed for the time being. Do you want me to get King off or would you like to be served breakfast in bed?”

Jinyoung snorts again, and King, annoyed enough, just retreats to the windowsill, where the sunlight is just as warm as Jinyoung’s chest. “Well, there’s my answer.” BamBam snorts, wrapping his hand loosely around Jinyoung’s wrist. He brings the elder's hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it softly.

Jinyoung can feel the warmth bloom in his chest again, and BamBam rolls his eyes endearingly before hopping out of bed. He only was able to take a few steps, however, his knees buckled and down went BamBam like a sack of potatoes.

Jinyoung leaned over the edge of the bed and laughed. “Having some trouble there, Bam-ah?” BamBam glared at Jinyoung, pulling himself up with the edge of the bedframe and shaky legs.

“Fuck you,” he says with no bite at all, and Jinyoung laughs again.

“I mean, we went at it for almost the whole day, even over your kitchen counter. But if you want…” he trails off and winks, and BamBam looks disgusted but with a twinkle in his eyes.

He leans closer, nose brushing against Jinyoung’s. “Well, hyung, I distinctly remember, on the sofa, you crying because I just wouldn’t let you-” Jinyoung cuts him off with a hand over BamBam’s mouth.

“Okay, you made your point, BamBam-ah. We get it, you fuck just as hard as I do.” BamBam cackles again, not unlike a crow, and Jinyoung can’t help but let a smile tug at his lips. “Let’s just go make breakfast. Jesus.”

Jinyoung manages to stay upright, and BamBam is slightly miffed about it, but it doesn’t mean his legs don’t hurt all the same. Jinyoung can feel his leg muscles screaming at him in agony. They make it to the kitchen aching and giggly, and BamBam crinkles his nose in disgust at the mess on it. “Gross. I forgot we didn’t clean up.”

Jinyoung snorts. “I’ll wipe the counter, you can start breakfast. Sounds good?” BamBam nods, still shaking his head in disappointment. “Why are you so unhappy at the state of your kitchen, Bam? I mean, last night you seemed to enjoy being fucked to tears,” Jinyoung can’t help but tease BamBam back, and BamBam squawks again, smacking Jinyoung on his sweaty and sticky chest.

“Oh, my God, shut up hyung.”

There was no room for banter after that, BamBam had thrown a wad of baby wipes at Jinyoung’s face. While Jinyoung was wiping down every spot they had occupied last night, BamBam was busy frying some food and trying to ignore the look of Jinyoung’s ass as he was on his knees and wiping the floor.

They managed to get through the morning without any side excursions (though Jinyoung did suck off BamBam in the shower and vice versa), and Jinyoung was ready to make his way home when BamBam grabbed his arm.

“Hyung, can I have your number?” Jinyoung tries to keep his face from breaking out into a smile, but he can’t help himself.

“Yeah, sure.”

[longassr1de]

Sweetness

Pairing: Jeno × fem!reader

Genre: smut!!, established relationship, domestic??

Word count: ~2k

Summary: What better way to beat the summer heat than with a sweet treat?

⚠️ Warnings: pretty much another pwp, 00 liner smut, food play, ice play(?), fingering, rough and unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving), pet names (moreso relationship-wise though), look..very curious things happen with popsicles okay?, not yet proofread.

A/N: lmk if I missed any warnings or any typos and such! I haven't written in so long or thought up anything this filthy to the point that I even surprised myself with this one.. so much for easier the 00 line content onto this blog. Whoops! Anyway I hope you guys enjoy! xoxo (oh also im currently on mobile so i'll add the read later in a bit, i apologize in advance!!)

It all started out with Jeno being a tease on a hot, hot summer evening. Sure, it was terribly humid out, but the way he kept sucking at the colorful popsicle even when it began to melt down to his slender fingers had you feeling wet heat in a much more personal sense. He held eye contact with you as his lips pulled away from the frozen treat, sinful eyes making it a point to devour the way you intook just a little extra air when he licked at the sticky mess upon his palm.

"Care for a taste?" Jeno offered, his deep voice filled with mirth. That's all it really took for you quickly stride across the room to join him where he'd been sat at the sofa. He tossed the remainder of the popsicle atop its wrapper on the coffee table, instead pulling you into his lap as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You could still taste the cold sweetness on his tongue even as he sucked at yours, biting your bottom lip as his strong embrace loosens in favor of grabbing at your ass.

He thanks the heavens for your wardrobe selection today, your skirt making it so much easier to grind against your pretty little panties. If the wet spot forming on his pants was anything to go by, he'd guess you were just as needy as him if not moreso.

"On your back princess, I wanna try something." Jeno helps you take off your shirt as he lays you onto the leather, straddling over your hips before slowly making his way down to your breasts. He mumbles out praises for your body as his slowly warming mouth licks and sucks at your nipples. He separates from your body, drawing out a whine from your lips, when suddenly his now cold again mouth quickly works them to stiff peaks.

"You like that, baby?" You can only nod at his question, carelessly reaching for his hair, needing something to grab onto as he presses cold kisses across the expanse of your neck down your torso. "You're so sensitive for me, does a little cold make you this wet, hmm?" You blink up at your usually sweet boyfriend, only to find his gaze to be more hungry than playful.

"Answer me, baby? Or have I already fucked you stupid without even touching you?" The loud whine your body automatically let out as a response to his filthy words has you blushing frantically, only serving to further spur Jeno's near-sadistic behavior. "Aww, it's ok princess, there's no need to be embarrassed. You're gonna sound so pretty when you're cumming for me later, I just know it."

Before you know it, your skirt's flipped up to cover your abdomen, and it's near impossible to tear your gaze away from Jeno's fingers and how they seemingly glide across your wet lips. His tongue peeks out to lick at your clit before giving it a harsh suck, pulling back to bite at your thigh with a groan, and you just know he's left you with another blossoming mark. You always make it a point to complain about Jeno's marking habits, but he knew better; after all, he's caught you staring at them in the mirror before when you thought he wasn't home.

Frustrated that you had yet to be properly touched despite all your boyfriend's teasing, crinkling sound catches your attention, only to be met with the sight of Jeno sucking at that damned popsicle again. So much for hoping it was a condom so you'd finally be getting some. "Babe, pleeaaseee," you keen, wiggling your hips before biting at your swollen lower lip, trying to entice your boyfriend, "do something, anything."

"Anything?" But it's more of a statement than a question, as you soon find out. The remainder of your clothing is dragged off your body before the cool touch surprises you, but you're even more surprised to find Jeno fucking a brand new popsicle into your wetness. "Your pussy's gonna be so sticky and sweet for me, can't wait to watch you suck it off me," he all but groans at the mere thought of your heavenly lips sucking him off. The image of Jeno's colorful cum spilling out of you doesn't last long, as the freezing treat demands its presence be known, his tongue simultaneously going back to working at your clit.

Letting out a loud moan of his name, he looks up at you, squeezing you thigh with his free hand to draw your attention back to his face, intense eyes settling upon your teary ones. "Does it feel good, baby? Is it too cold?" You're touched that he's checking up on you, but it's really difficult to form words when his cold digits take over and fuck up into you with fervor.

"Don't stop, don't stop fuck Jeno please don't stop!" Just as you cry out for more, the man in question pulls away from you completely, leaving you high and dry just when it your orgasm was building up around his skilled fingers. Your eyes open to the sight of a shirtless Jeno with his pants and briefs pushed down just enough so that he can fuck up into his hand, giving himself just a hint of relief before moving on to the main event. Complaints die in your throat as you watch Jeno grasp both his leaking cock and the popsicle between his palms, rocking against the length of the sticky mess before once again pushing it into you a handful of times, ultimately discarding it off-handedly in the general direction of the coffee table it had been melting atop. "Think you're ready to take my cock now, princess? Wanna feel how well you take me," mumbling the latter against your lips, already having his tongue nearly down your throat as he aligns his tip, drawing out beautiful, desperate moans when he finally pushes in and sheathes himself inside your wetness to the hilt. You'd never even noticed when the rest of his clothes had gone missing, but you weren't complaining either.

"Fuck Jeno, how do you feel so hot yet so cold at the same time?" you shiver, simultaneously pulling closer and farther from his body, seeking the warmth from his chest while avoiding his freezing hands. He only chuckles at this, kissing further down your jaw before pausing to suck another mark, this time into your sensitive breast. Jeno's cold hands find purchase on your hips despite all your wriggling, bodies quickly warming up as the heat in the room rises on this passionate summer night. His hips work a strong rhythm into your own, pulling lewd melodies from the depths of your chest, raking your nails down his broad back in retaliation for making your things quake.

"Please tell me you're close, because I'm so turned on I can't guarantee I'll outlast you at this rate." The sheepish confession coming from a face that's anything but has you nearly combusting on the spot. His furrowed brows, parted, kiss-swollen lips and strangled groans all adding to your current heightened state of pleasure.

"Just a little more, Jeno I'm so so close. Feels so fucking good, just like tha-at," your eyes roll back as you're speaking and the cockiness that his features don immediately spell trouble. He's found your spot and he is whole heartedly planning to abuse this newfound knowledge. Both of your thighs are pushed up and pinned in place by your chest, his knees digging deeper into the leather; the glint in your boyfriend's dark eyes shining twice as bright in the now-evening glow, vision quickly blurring as his pace picks up considerably. His filthy praises besides your ear only helping your decent further into madness, bucking your hips into his as your nails dig into his shoulders for dear life.

"That's it, good girl, let go for me, come all over my dick, you can do it." As if by magic spell, your release floods your senses, a strangled cry of Jeno's name escaping your weak lips, babbling as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The colorful popsicle residue mixed with your own cum leaks out of you as Jeno pulls out of your warmth, and he stops for a moment to admire the art that would soon be once again ruined by raging hormones.

True to his filthy word, once you've recovered your still-horny lover is quick to lead your head between his legs, making sure you wouldn't forget the real sticky treat he'd made sure to save you a taste of. "Your mouth feels so good, so good, all for me, yeah?" he coos down at your form, blissed out as he enjoys the view.

It's his turn to be surprised however, when you pull off his cock to wink up at him, seductively murmuring for him to use you for his own release and fuck your throat. Not one that needs to be told twice, Jeno cups your cheeks as he holds you in place, slowly slipping into your mouth once again. He stops to make sure you're sure, asking if you're okay every time you whine or gag around him, not wanting to hurt you either.

Once you reassure him you're fine and start moving of your own accord, the loudest moan you've ever heard from Jeno to date spilling out, his head thrown back in sheer pleasure from the delicious sensation. You have all but a minute's worth of the upper hand before feline eyes are back on your own, silently asking for permission to begin moving his hips. Your silent response comes in the way your hands come up to his hips, ready to stop him if you needed to come up for air. A mere three thrusts in and Jeno is doubling over, sweet and filthy words coming out slurred as he's drunk off the feeling of your thigh throat around his length. "I'm so fucking close, oh my god," Jeno's ragged voice manages to rasp out, bucking wildly as you gag around his thick dick. "Gonna cum down your throat princess, yes or no?" He tugs at your hair to get your attention, briefly stilling his fidgeting hips. Your moan of an answer and the way you claw at his thighs to brace yourself being all the nonverbal cues he needs before he pulls out, sensitive tip all the way at your lips again, and you take in a deep breath just before he pushes back in so deep you feared you wouldn't be able to take it, the evidence of white, hot pleasure coating your throat in stripes.

Rather than the usual salty tang of Jeno's cum, the sweetness of the popsicle and taste of your own essence remaining the dominant taste on your tongue. You lick at your sticky lips as Jeno slowly pulls away from your mouth, hissing at how sensitive he is after such a powerful orgasm. He lays back before pulling you with him to lie over his chest, uncaring for the sweaty sheen adorning your bodies in favor of the peaceful embrace of your love. Many peppered kisses and high praises later, Jeno gently turns to press a lingering kiss atop your head, softly calling your name to beckon your gaze.

He breaks the silence by asking, "What do you say about trying whipped cream next time?"

"Sounds... sweet," you retort, much to Jeno's chagrin. At times like this he could easily see why his friends made fun of you two for your sense of humor. But for as much as he teased, he knew he would always be twice as in love with you as he ever claimed to be. And that.. was pretty sweet indeed.

[saxxxology]

What Lurks Beneath the Surface - 2

After Sam’s ultimate sacrifice, you struggle to cope. When he shows up after months of being gone, you’re happier than ever to see him. That is, until you realize that the love of your life is much different than you remember. 

PAIRING: Soulless!Sam x Reader WARNINGS: canon divergence (season 6), angst, suspense, violence, smut, minor dub-con, and more. NOTE: Some elements of this series are a little darker than what I usually write. Warnings are sporadic to avoid spoilers - if you feel uncomfortable it is up to you to stop reading or message me with any questions.

Read the entire series on Patreon for just $3

Series Masterlist

You’re lying on the bed when you wake up. You sit up a little too fast, and your vision blurs and swirls, forcing you to close your eyes again.

“You’re awake.”

The voice makes you freeze and choke on a scream. Glancing sharply to your left, you see him, long hair, sharp profile… it’s him. 

Sam.

He’s sitting in a chair, staring at you. His face is expressionless, like he’s looking at you because he can, not because he wants to.

“Don’t act so surprised. Should’ve known I’d get out sooner or later.” He looks down at his hands, and you follow his gaze. He’s cleaning a gun that you recognize, the Glock that you keep back in your bedside cabinet. “Nice gun by the way. Knew you were goin’ for it.” 

“H-how?” you choke out, and your voice cracks with the effort of speaking. You wince as a dull pain spreads through your neck, from your windpipe to the bottom of your skull. You raise a hand, feeling tender skin and bruises under your fingers. “How did you get out?” 

Sam shrugs. “Don’t know.” 

“How long have you been out?” you ask, your voice rough, either from not being used in so long or from the pressure that had been applied to it earlier. 

“Maybe since a week after I went down,” he replies. “Been watching you for a while.”

Your throat aches as you swallow. “A whole year? And you couldn’t have shown up sooner?!”

“Took me a while to find you,” Sam continues, “you stopped using cards, didn’t leave any good trails to follow.”

You stare up at him, all sorts of emotions coursing through you. You’re amazed that he’s still alive, happy that he’s standing in front of you, apparently healthy and relatively happy. There’s a hint of anger at what he did to you, and why he couldn’t just knock on your door like a normal person.

“Does Dean know you’re alive?” You ask.

Sam shakes his head. “No. And I don’t want him to.”

“Why?” You narrow your eyes. “Is there something you don’t want him to know?”

Sam shrugs. “He’s happy. I’ve been watching him too.”

“Yeah, and I was just starting to get happy again, that doesn’t matter?” Your throat aches with emotion as you stand up to face him. “I was starting to get over what happened, I was practically drinking myself to sleep almost every night, I was depressed!” You start shouting as tears start in your eyes. “I was sad and scared and Dean cared more about some woman who’s practically a stranger than he did about me! I had to go through it alone! And now you’re here and I don’t even know how or why!”

Sam just stares at you, at the tears streaming down your face, the slightly purple bruises on your throat from where he’d been a little too firm in trying to subdue you. “I need your help.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the closed curtains just behind Sam. “Yeah, well, I’m still trying to figure out if this is real or not, give me a bit.”

Sam turns away from you, grabs your bag, and tosses it onto the bed next to you. “Believe me, you’re not dreaming.” He motions to your neck. “That’s proof enough. Call your boss.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to be missing work for a few days.”

There’s something eerie about the way he’s looking at you, the way he’s talking to you. When he used to talk, you could hear the emotion in his voice. With your eyes closed, you could tell if he was smiling or frowning when he spoke. Now, you can’t really tell what emotion he’s feeling, or if he’s feeling anything at all. His eyes are cold and empty and there’s an odd glint that doesn’t look like it belongs there.

“Sam, what’s wrong with you?” You edge away from him to stand shakily at the foot of the bed.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he replies calmly, “I’ll prove it.”

Sam takes a silver flask from his bag and unscrews the cap. He tilts his head back and takes a long swallow, raising an eyebrow at you as if to say not a demon, and then unsheathes a small silver knife that looks brand new. He draws it over his forearm, leaving a small trail of bright red blood.

“Not a demon, not a shifter, not anything you should be scared of.” He sets the knife back on the table. “Just good ol’ Sam.”

You step forward and slowly wrap your arms around his torso, and you listen to his heartbeat, loud and steady in his chest. He hugs you back, his fingers spreading across your back, and you realize just how hard it’s been living without Sam’s hugs, and you hold onto him tighter, burying your face in his chest.

“I missed you, Sam,” you whisper, “I really missed you.”

***

FOUR MONTHS LATER...

Of course you go with him. You’ll always go with Sam if he asks. Three days after Sam comes, you drop your job, pack up, and sell most of your belongings online. 

It’s hard to keep from telling Dean; often, when he calls you, you find yourself nearly telling him about the case you’ve caught with Sam, or that Sam’s even alive… 

It hurts, but you’d promised Sam that you wouldn’t tell. And you keep your promises.

You’ve gotten used to this version of Sam. You miss his old smiles, wish that every laugh wasn’t partially forced, but then again, if you’d gone to battle with the Devil for who knows how long, you’d probably take life a little more seriously too.

Sam’s definitely changed; not just mentally or emotionally, but physically. He’s bigger, stronger, more alert. He works out like a maniac and keeps track of his hygiene even more than before. There’s a new confidence in his stride, a sharper, clearer tone when he speaks. And then there’s the fact that he stays out later than usual and never looks tired, even if he’s gone all night. 

You don’t ask questions, just respect the way he lives now.

It’s mid-February when you and Sam finally catch a break. The past few weeks have been non stop hunting, and you’re glad when Sam agrees to stay in Columbus for an extra day. It’s not entirely for care of you, however; cash is running low and Sam’s taken a liking to your skill of seducing men into giving up more cash than they can afford to. 

On this night, you join Sam for a game of pool against two members of what looks like a biker gang. The men’s eyes flicker between your low-cut shirt and skirt, only stopping when it’s their turn to shoot.

During this time, Sam drinks continuously, one beer after another. By looking in his eyes, you can tell he’s steady, but he’s acting, pretending to get drunker and more confident with every drink he takes. The bikers team up, and within minutes, they’ve got a small pile of twenties and fifties going on the side of the pool table.

“Your girl’s good luck,” one of the men comments, nodding his head in your direction. 

Sam grins and wraps one arm around you, pulling you tight against his side. “Damn right she is.” He smiles down at you, and you offer a smile back. You hate it when he plays with you like this, pretends you’re a good luck charm or something he can use for his advantage, but right now your need for money surpasses anything else, and playing along with his little game might get you more.

Sam watches closely as one of the bikers lines his cue up with a ball and swings forward. The ball misses its mark by a good three inches, and his friends groan as Sam straightens up, a smile playing on his face. He only has to make one more perfect shot to win everything on the table.

You hear the whispered curses from the men surrounding you, and Sam turns his head to look at you. He shoots you a wink that shows nothing but confidence and quickly lines his cue up with the white ball. Your heart beats faster in your chest; it’s been a long time since you felt this rush, the win-or-lose-everything thrill that is powerful enough to make your head spin and your legs tremble.

The biker gang shouts and yells angrily as Sam lands the winning ball right in the corner pocket, and he sweeps the pile of cash into his hands before giving it to you. You shove it into your purse and follow Sam towards the bar, blowing a kiss at the leather-clad men over your shoulder. He pushes a fifty-dollar bill towards the bartender and points to the surly group of bikers.

“Get them drinks,” he says, and then follows you out of the bar.

It’s late, past midnight, and the streets are empty. You check your phone for the time, reading half-past ten on your screen. You have to walk a little faster to keep up with Sam, and you’re surprised he’s still steady on his feet.

“We should get something to eat.” You say, looking up at his sharp profile, lit by streetlights as you pass under them. “I think there’s an all-night McDonald’s or something down the street.”

“I’m not hungry.” He replies.

“Sam, you just drank, like, four beers in a row, you should eat.” You follow him across the parking lot to the motel. “You’ll wear yourself out.”

“I’ll eat in the morning,” he replies coldly, “it’s late, you should sleep. I wanna be out first thing in the morning.”

“What about you?” You watch him unlock the motel room and follow him inside. “You’re not tired—?”

Sam doesn’t respond, just turns to face you and pushes you up against the wall. One hand slips around your back, the other tangles in your hair, pulling your hair back. You gasp when he presses his body against yours and shove your hands on his chest, stopping him from getting too close.

“I don’t want to sleep.” His voice is low and dangerous. “You know exactly what I want.”

You try not to think about how close he is, how you can feel his warmth through his shirt and the way he’s holding you against the wall, caging you in…

“Sam, I…” you grip his jacket in both hands, unable to say the one word he’s silently waiting for. To tell him that you don’t want this will be a lie. 

“What?” His tone is nearly mocking, as if he knows you’re truly helpless.

You swallow thickly. “Please… get off of me.”

He narrows his eyes, but steps away, allowing you to slip out of his grip. He watches you go to your suitcase and tug a sleep shirt and a clean pair of panties out. “What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Shower,” you reply bluntly. “Stay out.”

You stay in the shower as long as you can, scrubbing the smell of the bar off your skin. Sam’s given you a lot of signals over the last few months, but in no way have any of them ever been that he wants to sleep with you. You’ve heard him fucking the life out of other women, watched them stumble out with runny mascara and a limp. 

Sam’s never wanted to do that to you before now.

Maybe one night… yeah, one night can’t hurt.

You step out of the shower and quickly towel dry. You carry your spare clothes into the main room and toss them onto one of the two beds. Sam’s been reading the newspaper, and he watches with dark, malicious eyes as you drop the towel, allowing him to see every inch of bare skin.

“Well,” you murmur, “get your ass over here.”

Sam rises from his chair, quickly crossing over to meet you at the foot of the bed. He yanks you up, fingers pulling at soft flesh, and kisses you so hard your teeth click. He shrugs his jacket off, dropping it on the ground before letting you push his flannel over his shoulders.

You’ve never felt this before, this degree of need, of want. You and Sam have kissed before, on undercover investigations where you’d had to pretend to be a couple, but those were little, gentle kisses. The way you’re kissing now is desperate and just on the border of too-rough.

And you like it.

Sam runs his hands over your body, up and down your arms, over your sides and up the curve of your back, feeling your skin flex and bend under his palms. He presses his lips against yours one more time before pulling back for air, and you open your eyes, looking up at him. His pupils are blown with need, and he hooks his hands under your thighs, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Sam…” You gasp his name when he lays you out on the bed and shoves his hips between your legs. He nips at your lower lip, his eyes glittering wickedly mere inches away from yours.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He bites down on your jaw and palms one firm tit. “Been wanting to get my cock inside you for so long.”

He’s just about to pull his belt loose when you hear a knocking on the door to your room.

“We sh—” you pause when Sam pulls you in for another kiss, “we should get that.”

Sam tilts his head, eyes narrowing. His tongue darts out to flick over his lower lip, and he smiles. “How about we ignore it until they go away.”

“No, it might be important.” You pull away, climbing out from underneath him and reaching for your nightshirt. It barely covers your thighs, and you hope that whoever’s at the door isn’t important enough for you to be decently dressed. Peering through the door, your heart stops in your chest. 

Dean’s standing on the other side, his fist raised to knock three more times.

“Get in the bathroom,” you whisper, turning to face Sam, who’s still standing with a hand on his belt buckle.

Sam begins walking towards the door, squaring his shoulders. “Why?”

You put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Because it’s Dean.”

Sam’s jaw clenches, and he moves past you to grab his shirt and jacket off the floor. He kicks his duffel bag under the bed and out of sight before slipping into the bathroom and closing the door.

You wait for him to go completely quiet before you answer the door. “Dean, hey.” 

Dean takes in your disheveled appearance and raises his eyebrows, but there’s no hiding the anger in his eyes. “What’s going on?” There’s a great deal of concern in his voice. “I tried visiting you for New Year’s but you weren’t there, now your place is all cleaned out and now you’re in freaking Ohio.” 

“I…” you try to keep yourself calm as Dean walks past you into the room. “I went to see an old friend in Toledo, I was heading back today and I got tired, so I thought I’d stay at a motel—” 

“You’ve been all over the grid for two months,” Dean replies. “I’ve been tracking you, couldn’t get you stuck in one place long enough before you took off.” He glances at your ripped shirt and disheveled hair again. “Have company?” He looks around the room and his eyes land on your bag and the twenty and fifty-dollar bills sticking out of the top. “Y/N, what the hell is this?”

You scramble to cover up your reason for having that much cash and Dean’s obvious conclusion. “I’m not selling myself. I just played a good round of pool earlier.” 

Dean pulls a handful of cash out of your bag and looks at it. “How much is here?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t count it yet.”

Dean drops his interrogation and bows his head. “You know, the only other person who could win this much was Sam.” He swallows thickly. “Seems like you’re taking after him.” 

“Yeah… yeah, I am.” You look down at the ground. “Guess you can call it beginner’s luck, I haven’t played since… you know.” 

Dean nods in understanding and looks towards you. “Are you hunting again?” 

Again, you’re stuck searching for an explanation. “I… there was a vampire in Cedar Rapids last month, I took care of it, it’s not—” 

“Don’t say it’s not a big deal,” Dean interrupts. “Seriously, Y/N? Your apartment’s empty, your car is gone, why do I think you’re lying to me?” 

“It was killing people, Dean, it would have killed more and I stopped it—”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have dropped a line and I would have come with you.” 

You stare at the ground, playing with one sleeve of your shirt. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey,” Dean steps towards you and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. “Don’t apologize, I just want you to be okay.” 

You hear the sink faucet running in the bathroom, and Dean looks up towards it. “You should probably…” 

“Go, yeah.” Dean backs away from you. “I’ll get a room someplace else, stick around until you take off.” He goes to the door and opens it. “By the way, if you sold your car, what are you driving?” 

You motion out the curtain covered window. “The Dodge.”

“That thing?”

“Yeah,” you cross your arms. “Real piece of crap, I’ve missed the Impala.” 

Dean grins. “Maybe we can go for a ride in the morning, bet she’s missed you.” 

You nod, watching Dean study the sleek black exterior of the car next to the Impala. “Bet she misses Sam more.” 

“We all miss Sam.” Dean sighs heavily. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, call me in the morning.” He points a finger at you. “And don’t scare me like that again.” 

He leaves, and the second you hear the Impala start up, you go to the bathroom door and knock twice. “You can come out now.” 

You’re sitting on the bed when the door opens and Sam steps out, carrying his jacket and shirt. “He’s gone?” 

“Yeah, he said he was getting a room at another motel. I have to call him in the morning.” You look down at your lap as Sam sits next to you. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Other than the fact that I keep lying to him, yeah, everything’s peachy.” You don’t look at him. “You’re going to have to tell him.” 

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re alive. I can’t keep lying to him for you, either you tell him or I will.” 

Sam reaches over, sets one hand on your knee. “I will… just when it’s the right time.” His grip tightens on your knee, and his other arm slips around your waist. “Now, where were we?”

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[meenasmoon]

I hope you still take prompts! Johnny is visiting his dad and asks for advice: he's head over heels for Meena but she is oblivious to his feelings since he is too damn nervous to make a move or to give hint, Big Daddy to the rescue! (kinda?)

I felt that this prompt was a great time to explore the budding trust between Big Daddy and Johnny because it is soooo important that they start to reconcile. Those father/son moments make my heart hurt but i love them so. I hope you all do too!

Fatherly Advice

Johnny nervously bounced on the squeaky metal stool and stared at thedoor on the other side of the bulletproof glass, hoping that big Daddy wouldappear at any second. It wasn’t his usual visiting day so when he had shown up,looking flustered and asking to see his father, the guard had given him and oddlook and ushered him to their usual booth. Around him people were chatting withtheir incarcerated loved ones, oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions that wasswirling around inside of him. Finally with a loud blare of the door alarm thedoor opened on the other side and Big Daddy squeezed through the doorway withhis escort. Johnny smiled nervously at his dad as he sat down and the guardwandered off to wait by the door.

Johnny was so eager to pick up the phone he knocked it off the hook andBig Daddy watched him fumble around with the phone for a few seconds before hefinally got a good grip on it and brought it up to his face.

“Aw wite spill it son. Wot did ya do?” Big Daddy rumbled out and Johnnyimmediately began sputtering out excuses in response.

“Nuffin’! I didn’t do anythin’! That’s the bloody problem.“ Hemumbled the last part and ran a hand through his wild hair in frustration.

“Alwigh’ then. Wot didn’t ya do?” Big Daddy’s face was screwedup in confusion and he leaned forward to force his son to meet his intensegaze. When Johnny didn’t say anything and instead began fiddling with the worncord of the phone it hit him.

“It’s abaht a girl ain’t it.” He smirked and Johnny’s headshot up, giving him that incredulous wide-eyed look that he had seen one toomany times.

“Wha’….” Johnny gaped up at his dad and then let out a longsuffering sigh and slumped down on the grimy counter.

After a few seconds of his father’s stare bearing down on him, Johnnylifted his head and morosely looked up at his dad. “Fine. It’s abaht a girl.‘Er name is Meena. She’s amazing.” he said dreamily and rested his head on hisarms again.

“Is tha’ the elephant wif the nice voice?” Big Daddy asked, a smilespreading slowly across his face when Johnny got a dreamy look that heremembered from his own youth.

“It’s not jus’ nice dad! She ‘as the best bloody voice that I ‘ave ever‘eard. It’s loike an angel’s it’s so beautiful.” Johnny sat up, defendingMeena’s voice to his father who just sat there and watched his son with a senseof pride so strong that he chest hurt a little bit. Johnny had come to himabout a girl. He and Johnny had never had deep talks and he hadn’t given him advicesince he was a little kid learning how to skateboard. If he could go back anddo his son’s teenage years over again he would put the business on hold andparent his son, but he couldn’t time travel so in that moment he decided tostart, even if it had to be from prison.

“So. Even a blin’ monkey could clock that ya loike ‘er. What’s thechuffin’ problem?” Big Daddy asked, and Johnny turned bashful again, drawinginvisible patterns on the counter as he worked up the courage to tell his dadwhat was happening.

“Well I keep tryin’ ter say summit ter ‘er or ask ‘er out ya kna but…”Johnny trailed off and fiddled with the sleeves of his leather jacket and BigDaddy decided that his son needed some encouragement. His own special brand ofencouragement.

“Ya chickened aht huh?” he chuckled as Johnny’s face went brightred and he gave his dad a playful glare.

“It’s not that. It’s just every time she looks at me wif those blue eyesand she seems so ‘appy ter clock me. Me tongue gets aw tied up and I can’t breathewite.” he sighed and ran his hands down his face, scrubbing it slightly in aneffort to build up the words to continue, “And…and… I just forget wot I wantedter ask ‘er and I dunna ‘a ter talk ter ‘er abaht me feelings.”

“Sounds ter me loike ya ‘re in pretty deep me son.” he smiledcomfortingly despite Johnny’s deadpan look at his comment and started to hangup the phone. He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender and gestured forhim to pick up the phone again. Johnny reluctantly picked up the phone andimpatiently waited for his dad to get on with his point.

“Look Johnny boy, do ya kna ‘er favorite flower?” he pressed and Johnnylooked at him skeptically before nodding.

“She loves daisies.” he mumbled and arched his brow at Big Daddy, thedoubt clear as day on his young face.

“Daisies. That’s great. Na, do ya trust me?” They sat in silence for acouple seconds, Big Daddy grinning proudly while Johnny looked him up and downskeptically. Finally he let out a little laugh and gave his dad a small butgenuine smile.

“Yeah dad. I do.” he said softly and Big Daddy’s grin softened as wellbefore it widened again and he gave his son a wink.

“Good. So ‘ere’s wot you’re gonna do. First things first ya ask ‘er aht.Daan’t make it complicated cause then you’ll jus’ get too nervous again.” Heleaned forward, his face serious and his voice raised slightly in excitement.

“Wait wait wait. Wot if I’m already nervous? Just thinkin’ abaht askin’‘er aht makes me sweaty.” Johnny interrupted, a worried look on his face. Heclenched his hands as if to emphasize his point and nervously rubbed themagainst his jeans in an effort to wipe them off. Big Daddy just smiledsympathetically at his son.

“’Ey. Just take a deep breath fer a second. I’m gonna give ya sum advicethat worked whenever I got nervous talkin’ ter yer mother.” He watched Johnny’sface light up like a Christmas tree at the mention of his mother and his heartgave a little flutter in his chest.

“Mum? Ya got nervous talkin’ ter mum?” Johnny leaned forward; scootingto the edge of the stool as if getting closer to his father would make thestory that much better. Big Daddy chuckled and sheepishly rubbed the back ofhis neck as memory after memory popped up in his head.

“Ohh yeah. Loads of times. Wanna kna me secret?” he grinned and leanedin to the glass to create the illusion that they were going to share somesecret when in reality all of their conversations were recorded.

“Yeah! Yeah o’ course I do.” The eager smile on his face once again senta pang through Big Daddy’s chest as he was reminded of simpler times.

“Listen close boy.” He leaned forward and whispered into the phonereceiver. “Ya take a deep breath and ya focus on ‘er eyes. Girls loike is whenya look them in the eyes. Focus on them eyes and just let yer heartdo the talkin’. Shut down that brain of yers,” he pointed at the glass whereJohnny’s head was and he had never felt a stronger urge to break through thatglass and ruffle his son’s hair. He cursed himself once more for the decisionsthat he had made. Because of his criminal tendencies here he was behind barsand he could barely help his son with girl advice.

“Okay dad.” he said eagerly and seemed to take a deep breath in thatmoment, trying out the technique to calm his thoughts.

“Very nice boy. Na when she accepts, cause she will,” he gave Johnny alook when he looked ready to interrupt him with his doubts, “Ya pick ‘er sumdaisies and ya brin’ them ter ‘er when ya pick ‘er up. Trust me she’ll light upwhen ya brin’ ‘er flowers.”

“But dad… wot if she says nah?” Johnny asked and Big Daddy was amazed atthe vulnerability coming off of him in waves. It was like a dark cloud hadmoved in over his son’s head and it was his mission to banish it.

“Na clock ‘ere na boy.” He waited until Johnny looked up at him, hiseyes full of doubt and a small frown on his face. “That girl would be crazy terreject ya, and she ain’t crazy is she?”

“Nah…” Johnny said slowly, unsure where his father was going with this.

“Then stop worryin’ and start plannin’. I kna that you’ve got confidencein there. Let it shine through and you’ll be fine.” He said firmly but kindly.Johnny perked up slightly and looked up at his father with a new confidenceshining in his brown eyes.

“Thanks dad.” He said softly and Big Daddy grinned down at him, feelingaccomplished as a father for the first time since he watched his son ride downthe street on his skateboard in his helmet, shoulder pads and knee pads.

“Anytime son. Nah let’s talk plannin’. Ya need ter kna wot you’re gonnado for the date before ya even do it.” Johnny nodded and the two gorillas gotdown to work hashing out ideas for the future date. 

An hour later as Johnny rose from the stool and began walking away fromthe booth, Big Daddy stood there and watched his son turn around at the doorand wave as he disappeared into the outside world. As he walked through thehallways of the prison with guard as an escort he marveled over the fact thathis son was growing up. Johnny had always been the gangly teen with wild hairin his mind but today, today he saw an adult gorilla walking out those doors.He had missed so much of Johnny’s life; his love for singing, his firstperformance, the great loves in his life. When Johnny had started pulling awayfrom him he had tried to bring him back by bringing him into the gang, butJohnny had just continued to pull away from him, this time even stronger thanbefore.

As he walked back into his shared cell and saw his cellmates engaged ina game of poker he sat down in the chair that he had vacated and waited to bedealt into the next hand. As he picked up his cards he realized that his lifewas starting to turn around. Sure he was incarcerated and he had no idea whenhe would get out and be able to hug his son once again, meet the girl thatJohnny was obviously in love with, but his relationship with his son wasstronger than it had ever been before and that was the important thing.

He looked down at his cards and let his face curl into a self-satisfiedsmirk. Yeah his cards looked pretty good from here on out.

“Alwigh’ ya blighters I’m feelin’ lucky.” He looked around at thesuddenly nervous faces of his cellmates. “Whose ready ter get beat?”