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icollectyoursins · 3 years

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Jotaro Relationship Head Canons SFW

Because I’m a self indulgent little shit and just love to ignore all of the work I have to do, have some Jotaro head canons. I am but a humble simp, and love this man. So much.

Update as of writing this. Somehow, it got very angsty, so... yeah. Sad man vibes. Also rambly. I just kinda kept going.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: None, just angst, but nothing too serious.

Word Count: 2,985

Jotaro’s type is... I mean, it depends, like most people. I don’t think he’s super picky over appearances or things like that, it’s more whether or not he gets along with you and how long he can put up with you. He’s polite (well, as polite as he can be) and courteous, but probably a little more apathetic when you’ve first met. Once you’ve been around for a while he’s more relaxed and almost a little more critical. Mostly because you’re his friend now and he expects more from his friends.

While I was writing this I sort of realized that he could be aromantic. Maybe it’s just my own aro tendencies coming through, but I thought it sort of lined up with his personality. Or at least from my experience with romantic attraction.

Eventually, though, he’ll admit he cares about you a little more than he cares about others. It comes through in little almost compliments. “You did good. Keep it up” or “good job, dealing with this” are common phrases that sound nice on the surface, but it almost feels like he’s trying to pressure you to do more, which is far from the truth.

If it’s not awkward compliments like that, it’s awkward gifts. Always something you had briefly mentioned wanting or stared at a minute longer than you usually do, wrapped in a paper that’s your favourite colour or pattern. Sometimes, though, it’s something you’ve never mentioned that he somehow guessed would be something you wanted.

At the same time, though, he’s oblivious or at least acts like he is. There may be times when he goes home after you said something exceptionally sweet to him or that just means so much and he’ll just take a moment sitting at his desk to mull over what you said.

With a grunt, Jotaro rolled back into the armchair with a cup of tea in one hand and today’s newspaper in the other, since he didn’t get to read it this morning. It’s late with the sun almost completely set, giving his room an orange hue. He tries reading the first column, something about a cat being saved from a sewer grate, but after about a minute, he catches himself drifting away, sort of staring blankly at the paper.

He blinks hard, taking a long sip from his coffee. He must be tired. Another attempt is made at reading, this time the comics. They’re not his favourite thing, but short enough that he can focus on them. Or so he thought.

He zones out again, face suddenly feeling very hot.

He was thinking about you. Or, rather what you said.

It was something so simple, so mundane.

You had been talking about family together, exchanging drama, if you will, and he had brought up how his father had left his mother when he was very young. It didn’t bother him, he had said, after all, it was years ago and if he was being honest, he didn’t really need a father. Then, you gave him this look. It wasn’t pity or something like that. You put your hand on his knee, staring deep into his eyes.

“Jotaro,” you said, voice soft and sweet. You struggled to say the next words, opening your mouth, sighing, then finally: “I’m not leaving you.”

“Why would you be leaving?” He said, confused, taking it literally. Or, he pretended to be confused. It had made his heart warm with affection.

What Jotaro hadn’t noticed at that moment was that his eyes seemed to gloss over with wet tears while talking about his father. He wasn’t over it, you understood that. How could he be? He was so young then, he probably didn’t understand what was happening or why and now that he’s a father himself, there had to be so much guilt about being the same way. It was only now that he was realizing how much you had an effect on him.

It didn’t make him sad, by any means but... loved. He’ll say thank you tomorrow with a gift or some flowers. He hadn’t planned on meeting you for the rest of the week because he was busy, but work could wait, right? Yeah. Tomorrow.

God, it would take so long for him to get you to move in together. He’s so used to living on his own that I think he’s a little self-conscious about it. He’s not a slob by any means, but certainly a bachelor. I mean, he lived (assumedly) on his own from probably around or earlier than DiU right up until Stone Free, so it’s been a while and he’s certainly comfortable with his mess of clothes lying on the floor in the corner, but you won’t be. He cleans up before people come over, obviously, but how many times did he actually invite someone in?

When you start staying around more, he starts cleaning more, which makes him a little frustrated both coming to terms with liking someone enough that he’s actively cleaning for them once a week and also discovering that he’s a lot more gross than he thought. You would not believe how stained the counter was from coffee or how gross the filter was on the coffee maker. He takes his coffee very seriously. You begin to notice how clean everything is, well, how consistently clean everything is and it even starts to smell nicer, more floral and fresh. He bought a lavender air freshener. “It’s supposed to be calming,” he’ll say with a hint of annoyance. It’s not a bad smell to him, better than vanilla air fresheners, but it does give him a headache when he first sprays his place. You seem to like it though, so he’s willing to put up with it.

I honestly believe this man can cook, but nervous when cooking for other people. His food when he was a bachelor was good enough for him and I’m sure Holly would have shown him a lot too, but it’s not the best food. He definitely steps up his game when you’re over and even more so when you move in. He’s better with dishes that have pasta or noodles because it’s easy, but he’s not too bad behind the grill either.

When you guys finally live together, he tries to keep the cooking even, with you cooking some days and him doing the rest, but I honestly feel like unless you are a hazard in the kitchen, you would do most of it.

Jotaro would be like that with most things around the house partly because he doesn’t want you to do all the work if you don’t want to but he enjoys having a little more time to himself to either do work or... yeah, it’s just work. There are a few things that he’ll never make you do because it’s either too hard or he’s built up a routine of doing that thing a certain way and he’s convinced no one else will do it right. Like his laundry. He won’t let anyone else clean his clothes. He tried once and nothing dried right, he swears that his jacket is still damp to this day. You can fold his stuff or hang it up, but he’s running the washing machine and dryer. Also picky about how his office is cleaned.

If you asked and gave a legitimate reason for not doing a certain chore, he’ll do it, but be prepared with an excuse as to why you can’t wash the dishes or fold the laundry. He’s especially resistant if he’s working whether that be gathering information for the Speedwagon Foundation or editing his latest Marine Biology book.

Actually, can we just talk about how much this man hates folding laundry? It’s so pointless to him. Why fold it and put it into neat little piles when you’re just gonna rummage through the drawer and mess everything up? Sure, it looks nice, I guess, but not for long. He was for sure a floordrobe kind of guy, especially in his early years. He knows which ones are clean, it’s fine, just leave it. Of course, he would get better the longer you’re at his place, but still. It’s not that he’s lazy, he’s just busy and putting clothes away takes way too fucking long. (which, honestly, agreed.)

Date nights with Jotaro are... rare. I mean, you live with him, why would he want to go out and pay for something when he could do the same thing at home? They’re nice, of course, but it’s more common for him to take you out to dinner while you guys are on vacation or in a location other than home, because he doesn’t feel like cooking and it’s more special when you’re supposed to go out. Eventually, it clicks in that you are supposed to make each other feel special and will surprise you with an expensive dinner or a short cruise. If you suggest the aquarium he’ll think you’re just saying that because he’s into aquatic wildlife, but honestly doesn’t put up much of a fight and will answer any questions you or anyone else has about the fish.

He does enjoy a good relaxing movie (or documentary) night at home, though. It’s so nice to finally be finished work, settle into your super comfy couch and just chill until he gets tired. Even better when you’re lying on top of him with your head just under his chin. There’s something so soothing about smelling your perfume, shampoo, conditioner, cologne, etc. To just smell you so close to him and feel your weight. Aaah. So nice.

The microwave beeps faintly from the kitchen signalling that popcorn was done. You trailed out soon after, tossing the bowl to mix around the butter. You smile sweetly at him, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Jotaro’s lips before settling into his lap, nestling your head just under his while stretching out your legs. His arm instinctively moves from the back of the couch to drape over your back, rubbing circles into it with his thumb.

He sighs; relaxed, finally. He allows himself to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, just basking in your comfort. When he opens his eyes, he pulls you closer to him, feeling your heart beat almost in time with his. It was moments like these that eased his panic of losing you. You were here in his arms, safe and sound and vice versa. He was safe in yours.

Yeah, he’s a little angsty. But, can you blame him? He’s getting better, though. With help, of course. With you being around so often (and being very adamant that you’re not going anywhere) he’s able to let go a little. He’s not perfect, by a long shot and progress is slow, but it’s the little things like these that makes you proud of how far he’s come.

PDA is common, but a little restricted. When you’re out together, Jotaro’ll always have his hand on your back or shoulder. Hand-holding isn’t really a thing for him, but he will make sure you know he’s there. He’ll kiss you in public, but it’s not nearly as intimate or special as when you’re at home. Still, it’s a sweet reminder that he loves you, seeing as words of affection aren’t really his thing.

I mean, he can express himself just fine, but he still gets a little nervous saying things like ‘I love you.’ It’s more along the lines of ‘I care about you.’ Or, well. “of course, I care about you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Which... thanks. I think.

Kissing him is so nice, so you’re not too mad about him doing that instead of words. When Jotaro kisses you it’s full of a mix of emotions. Mostly caring, but on his rough days, there’s something else there. It could be worry or whatever the emotional equivalent of never letting you go is. You can always tell that he wants it to last a little bit longer. There’s something in the sad look in his eyes when he or you has to pull away. Sometimes he’s overly gentle like he’ll break you somehow, especially if you’re not a stand user or fighting-inclined (whether physical or otherwise). It’s not patronizing, or at least he tries not to be patronizing, he just prefers you safe.

It started out simple enough. You and Jotaro were just sitting at the table, eating dinner when he got this... sinking sort of feeling. There was something in the silence between you that just sent his mind spiralling. Thoughts of you someday dying too soon for whatever reason or leaving him because he’s not there enough, stand users, car crashes, divorce. They all started to flood into his mind, fabricating that you would somehow be taken away from him.

“Jotaro? Are you okay?” Your voice rings through; a bright light breaking the storm. He’s been staring at his plate for a while now, his eyes are dry and itchy. He looks at you and tries to say something, but the words don’t come. Is he okay?

You stand up and walk over to him, cupping his face gently. You rub the dark circles under his eyes while kissing his forehead. Jotaro slowly wraps his arms around you, letting his face fall into your hands. You’re pulled into his lap after a few minutes, running your fingers through his hair next. Finally, he sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you,” he mumbles and though you’re not quite sure why, you still say a quiet you’re welcome, silently soothing him through whatever happened.

If you couldn’t tell, he needs a lot of reassurance. Not so much words, but actions like the snippet above. I mean, he can be as strong as he wants but we all know he’s got some baggage and while he’s able to put it aside, for the most part, I think when you’re at home he’s just a little more vulnerable.

Now, onto happier things! If you like coffee or tea, he will always make you a cup in the morning. Jotaro is a very early riser except on the weekends, so he usually gets that done while reading or watching the news and when you come down, he’ll ask if you want breakfast then make it for you seeing as he’s more awake.

He loves coffee. So much. He might have a caffeine addiction, honestly. At all times of every day, you can see him with a black coffee in hand and a book or phone in the other. He will switch to decaf at some point, but you might have to switch it for him. He’s forgetful when he gets busy.

Sleeping in on the weekends is like heaven for him. The two nights (or more on holidays) that he gets a full nights rest, breakfast in bed and a warm soul to cuddle into. He’s usually big spoon with a hand just resting on your side, but please, for the love of god make him the little spoon once a week. Will never admit it or vocalize wanting it. He just grabs your hand and drapes it over him with a “good night” and then promptly passes out.

He’s a heavy sleeper but doesn’t sleep often. Once he’s out, there is nothing that could wake him up except the fire alarm or something like that. It just takes a while. Not because of trauma, but more just internal clock is delayed.

Not a bath guy, strictly showers ‘cause they’re quicker. Most of the time he’s in and out before you can invite him into yours. When you do he’s “reluctant” but showers with you are a favourite of his. He gets his hair washed for him (if he bends down), he can wash you. It’s great.

I don’t think he would want more kids. He’s getting older, busier and just doesn’t think he has the time to care for a baby, even with help. Plus, if they were anything like Joylne or god forbid him when he was younger, he might start greying sooner than he thought. Joylne is a great kid, but... she’s definitely got some of his defiance in him. One kid is fine.

He doesn’t really like pets either, hates when there’s fur on all the furniture. But, if you came home with a stray cat or two, he’s not gonna put up a fight if you say they’re not going to the pound. “Just as long as you take care of them yourself.”

You got him a betta fish once because Jotaro. Fish. Makes sense. He thought it was a little pointless at first. You can’t pet them or play fetch (not like he does those things anyway). All a fish does is sit there and look pretty. You were a little disappointed, but whatever, you’ll take care of it. Then he comes home one day with a 30-gallon tank, freshwater plants and fancy lighting to help them grow which he quietly sets up in the living room. He spent at least a half-hour deciding on where to put it.

A week later, after he’s pleased with how it looks and the tank has been cycled he puts in an order for more fish then lets your betta acclimate to the tank. “There, he’ll be happier in here. The idea of bettas not enjoying or panicking in larger tanks is a myth. He won’t be alone for long anyway. He also won’t kill everything in the tank.” Well, he hopes he won’t, each fish is different. Thankfully, the small school of tetras get along with your betta just fine. From then on, he’s in there once a week, cleaning everything, trimming the overgrowth. It is officially his tank.

#Jotaro is probably my biggest comfort character and the first one I really fell in love with out of jojo so this had to be done at some poin #jotaro kujo #kujo jotaro #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro headcanons #sfw prompts

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

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hi! i really love your writing, and was really hoping you could do another dean winchester x f! plus size reader. possibly were they are best friends and she is pining for someone else. so before she can make her move on someone else he stops her and confess his love for her. idk maybe some angst/fluff/smut?? you don’t have to if u don’t want to, it’s totally up to you. like no pressure at all! but seriously, i do really love all your writing and i wanted to say thank you for everything u write and do!! <3 once again no pressure at all with this ask, but overall thank you!!<3

Just one good reason

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader

SPN mixed Bingo Square: Hurt/Comfort Square

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,

Setting: mid season 11

Rating: E (explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: angst, smut, yearning, grumpy and sweet Dean (yes they need a warning),

Word count: 12,805 (Truly Was suppose to be this long. I blame Dean for this.)

Summary: He’s given a million reasons, damaged goods, blood on his hands, nightmares, scared in so many ways. But most of all that he’s not good enough. Just when you’re ready to walk out that door he gives you one good reason to stay.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this request, I love writing for Dean so very much and to add a plus size gal in as well that just makes my day. I do hope you’ll enjoy this story. The song “Million Reasons” both version’s by Lady Gaga and Briana Buckmaster are inspiration for this story.

Tag list: Is open for all character’s and series I write for.

@spnmixedbingo

Dean Winchester list: @akshi8278

Just one good reason list: @chickensarentcheap

@impala1967dwinchester, @lilacprincessofrecovery, @superavengerpotterstar @jbbarnesgirl @sofreddie @slightlyobsessedwithissues

Ancient hinges creak wearily, firm hand pushing to hold open the heavy door letting you and Sam pass by. Fatigued sigh leaves slightly chapped lips, “It’s good to be home.” Taking the stairs down two at a time, tossing duffle bags towards the war table.

“Going soft on us old man?” Teasing quip tugging a smile from your lips as you drop down into the nearest chair. “Getting use to having that soft bed under your ass now huh?”

Scoffing, whiskey flecked green eyes settling on your plush frame, “Woman you forget we’re the same age first off.” Playfully stocking towards you, hands placed on the back of your chair to cage you in. “Second damn right that bed is magical, memory form baby, it remembers me,” poking your side, giggle leaving your lips body squirming in the seat.

“Stop,” pleading tone entering your voice, trying to evaded his questing hands trailing along your curvy sides. “Please,” puppy eyes begging for mercy, his hands aren’t willing to give. Though you can’t bring yourself to care seeing the weight, even for a moment, disappear from his countenance. Or the fact your sides aren’t the ticklish spot on your body, moving in the seat purely for show.

“Say your sorry for calling me old,” brow lifting watching you squirm under his hands. Wishing and not for the first time, he could have your soft body slotted against his harder frame. Knowing how well you fit just in a different way, one that hasn’t been enough for a long time.

Giggles burst from your lips, hands flat against the hard plains of his chest tugging on the dark blue t-shirt to distract from his plans. Pushing him away which had as much of an effect as a toy bulldozer did against a real brick wall. “Okay, okay I’m sorry, promise I’m sorry,” gasping for breath giving a hard tap to his shoulder.

“Now who’s giving up too soon?” Hands pause as his eyes catch yours for a long moment. Smiling face beaming up at him, heart beating triple time and not from assaulting you with his hands. Unable to resist the urge to touch your soft skin. Callused fingers come up to barely graze just under your left eye carefully capturing the eyelash on the tip of his forefinger from your cheek, “Make a wish.”

Leaning forward to place your lips close to the offered digit, eyes closed to blow a cold stream, eyelash fluttering away unseen. Keeping your libs lowered for a bit longer torn between what you truly desire and what’s within your grasp. Whiskey roughened voice breaking through your thoughts, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“What you wish for?” Swallowing hard, beloved eyes flutter open to ensnare his in there depths. Catching something simmering just below but disappears quicker than a jack rabbit running from a coyote.

Clearing yours throat, “Can’t tell ya Deano won’t come true if I do.” Giving a smile, pressing him backwards to raise and grab your duffle bag. Cell phone signaling an incoming text message making you pull the the black case wrapped piece of tech out of your front jeans pocket. Bright smile pulling your lips higher seeing just who’s messaged you. “Catch y’all later.”

“Someone good?” Sam speaks for the first time since coming home. Watching the scene between his brother and best friend. Wanting to strangle the both of you for not seeing what’s right in front of you.

Head snapping up from buried in your phone to stare wide eyed at Sam, “Yes, no I mean it’s nothing but could be something.”

“Will again?” Peripheral catching the dark scowl pass over Dean’s features before disappearing behind a mask of indifference.

Humming sweetly, sparkle lighting your eyes that go back to your phone for a moment. “He’s asking if we can meet up tomorrow for lunch, trying to choose where to eat.”

“What about,” clearing his throat to unclog the emotions choking off the air to breath. “That little diner in town? It’s your favorite and serves the best pie aside yours of course.”

Trapping and tugging your bottom lip between nibbling teeth, head shaking in the negative. “Nope he’s not fond of greasy foods.”

‘Plus that’s our spot,’ unbridled thought slides into your mind and you want to look over at Dean to remind him. But push those thoughts aside with a wave, heading towards the bedrooms carefully making sure not to bump into a wall while responding.

Green eyes follow till you round the corner, heart catching in his throat cursing himself for mentioning your diner. Knowing better yet wanting confirmation without asking if the spot is still special.

“You’re an idiot Dean,” shaggy brown head shaking as he to snaps up his duffle bag to head towards his room. “The foundation is already there start building before it cracks.”

“Thanks Riddler, just cause I’m Batman doesn’t mean you have to be so fucking vague.” Left with his thoughts and the growing feeling he’s loosing you to another man. Dean leaves his stuff lay where it landed glancing over the chair you vacated not five minutes ago then heading towards the kitchen. In need of something harder than beer but settling for the dark brew being the only alcohol in the bunker.

Opening the fridge door, grabbing a brew his fingers brush against the clear plastic container holding a single slice of pecan pie. Eyes unseeing, drifting back into memories when the Mark of Cain still burned into his skin.

2015

Charlie’s dead, beaten, murdered and left in a pool of her own blood. Every time his eyes close she’s there, expressionless sea green eyes staring blankly into his own. Never hearing her snarky retorts, sassy ways or those hugs she gave. Staring into cold brown sludge, hands gripping the mug a little too tightly. Not sure why he chose to come here of all places. When he could’ve started out on his hunt for the Styne’s. Deep down though he knows the reason right as the little bell signals someone’s entered the small family owned diner. Knowing exactly who and trying to ready himself for your present.

Never ready for how your soft fingers brush along his temple, settling on his shoulder for a moment while you slide into the worn pleather covered booth. Trailing those gentle fingers down his black and grey plaid covered arm. Tugging one hand from around the ceramic cup to intertwine your fingers. Head coming to rest on his shoulder, no words just comfort in a time when he needs it most.

“You shouldn’t be here,” dark with hints of gravel and kissed with pain in the tone. Whiskey flicked green obits focus, for the first time on something besides the cup in his hands, landing on the top of your head.

Shrugging, “Where else should I be Dean?” Looking up at him sorrowful eyes meeting right when your other palm comes up to brush moisture from his cheek. Unnoticed tears sliding down cool cheeks, “You’re my best friend there’s no place I’d rather be then right here helping you.”

“You could get killed,” the very through twists his heart till almost bursting. Brings bile to rise in the back of his throat, slithering through his system to settle unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach. It’s one thing to loose Charlie a heavy casualty. But you, Dean isn’t sure he’d come back from the dark path he’d follow for vengeance.

Soft sad smile turns your lips barely upward, “Not gonna happen I have my knight in shining Impala to keep me safe.”

“I couldn’t keep Charlie safe how can I…”

Shaking your head, finger placed over his kissable lips, “You’ve given me a million reasons already Dean Winchester and I don’t believe a single one of them.” Resting your foreheads together a moment, tenderness skating across your veins for the man beside you, “You might not believe it but your a good man.”

Pie filled plate slides across scared formica table top, metal fork clattering against the ceramic pushed in front. “More coffee,” sweet feminine voice floats from beside you.

Nodding, “Please, sugar and cream too.” Giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes feeling Dean stir beside you.

“Black like my soul you know that sweetheart,” slightly chapped lips brush your cheek. A simple thank you for this act of kindness he feels undeserving of. If he hadn’t already been head over heels in love with you this sweet gesture would’ve sealed the deal.

Breathless gasp parts your lips as you turn finding Dean closer almost invading your space. Leather, motor oil and Irish Spring tickle your nose, eyes locking with those agony drenched obits, making another gasp exist your lungs. Heartache rocketing through your body, colliding with anger directed at the Styne’s.

“Eat your pie Winchester we’ll talk about that soul of yours later after dealing with the Styne’s.”

Heart freezing at the mention of the murdering family, “No,” rougher than intended, Dean grabs your chin twisting your face towards his. Rage hot and potent flaring through those beautiful greens. “No you will stay with Sam I’ll deal with them myself…”

“Dean you can’t be serious…” grabbing his wrist, pleading in your eyes for him to listen. Loosing Charlie splintered your heart, counting her as the sister you’ve never had. Her blood demanding revenge for the grievous act. But loosing Dean would kill you, knowing you never would come back from that agony.

“I am, deadly so. You try and sneak along I’ll toss that sexy ass outta Baby faster than you can pray to Castiel.”

Snorting, pulling your chin from his grasp, “You couldn’t lift me Winchester and you can’t stop me…” but the look he gives you does. Any farther flow of words halt in there bid to tumble out of your mouth.

“No I can’t,” callused palms cup your cheeks keeping you in place. Searching your eyes and making sure you understood, “I don’t want you to come with me Y/N. If there’s anytime to listen its now. I’ve lost one sister I didn’t want.” Bitting those words out to keep from speaking the others which threaten to pour from his being. “I can’t loose you,” resting your foreheads together again.

Nodding, trying to keep yourself from rubbing your cheek into his palm or worse press your lips against his. Lying to yourself isn’t something you normally do and you wouldn’t start now with the realization you were in love with your best friend and worried your going to loose him to the all consuming darkness.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show

You're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

Downing the last of his long neck, drawing patterns over the hardwood table underneath with the condensation from the bottle. Eyes trained on that single slice of pie you’d bought him weeks ago.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you D,” mirth filled voice floats towards him before you reach his side in body.

Hand coming into view grabbing for the container to toss it out. But Dean’s quicker, “If you value your life, you’ll unhand my pie,” thick fingers circle your wrist pulling your plush body down beside him. “It’s not nice to steal a man’s pie woman,” keeping his tone light, playful and away from the looming fate he knows will visit upon his person once you figure out Will is the man you truly want. Deserving of your light, and laughter, the sweetness, of your beauty that Dean only hopes the other man will appreciate.

Gasping in mock outrage, “Who me?” Hand to heart trying to keep the laughter from your tone. “I would never deprive you of pie Deano. But I would that slice since I think it’s become a science experiment.”

Narrowing his eyes towards the offending sweet dessert, “It is not.” Poking twice before pulling the pie forward for a closer inspection. Musical laughter meeting his ears, smothering the smirk threatening to bloom over his lips. “Okay so maybe your right,” turning his pouting face towards you.

“Course I am,” giving him a wink then standing to toss the ruined sweets out. Pausing by the panty, you peek in unaware Dean’s watching you from his seat.

Teasing sway to your generous hips has his eyes tracking every movement. Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at how temping you look. Thick thighs encased in blue denim jeans feet bare from wearing those steal toed Dr. Martins during hunts. Body stretching upwards, soft cotton baby blue tank top riding up to bare a silver of delicate skin to his eyes. Your fingers barely snag the sugar container’s edge, pulling it down to clasp against your ample chest.

Chastising himself for the erotic thoughts flipping through his mind on a single film reel. “What exactly are you doing sweetheart?” Carefully keeping his lower half away from your line of sight. Lest you find out the problem currently tenting his jeans, teeth gritting to stop himself from acting on all those thoughts.

“Never you mind Dean Winchester,” tossing over your shoulder, checking for vanilla extract, light syrup, and butter from the fridge. Last stop the freezer mentally trying to remember if you there's a pie shell left or would need to make one. Hoping for at least a single, since checking the flour stock and coming up almost empty. “Start a list for me please and put flour on it,” setting the three ingredients in your hands down. Turning back to open the metal door to peer into the freeze, swaying slighting to a song running through your head. A triumphant “Yes,” exists your lips, a little dance of excitement upon finding the last shell.

Damn near swallowing his tongue so entranced by your movements gulping different words back down to keep from making a total fool of himself. As he utters, “Not till I know exactly what your making over there Betty Crocker.”

“Resorting to blackmail now?” Brow arched, unconsciously licking your lips slowly. Unaware of Dean watching the path it takes across your pump bottom lip, tucking it between indenting teeth.

For distraction purposes, Dean pulls his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. Bringing up the list app a suggestion to simplify things you gave him months back. Forcing himself to focus on the small screen in his hands instead of the woman currently dancing around the kitchen. Pulling bowls, pots and pans out, one chance glance has an inaudible groan vibrating through his chest at the sight of your plush ass. Bent over shifting through sheet pans knowing which you look for as arousal flares to life so potent Dean turns quickly hiding his reacting. Planting his face in the palms of his hands, elbows bent to catch the weight. Fingers digging into eye sockets to use the pain and banish the thoughts from reappearing.

Frowning at his actions you come over after putting the pan on the counter. Fingers running through his hair, scraping the scalp with short nails. Pleased smile at the groan you pull from his lips as he rubs his head into your palm like a little puppy. “Something wrong Dean?” Worry dancing through the cadence of your voice other hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Fine,” head popping up, forcing your fingers to slide out of his hair. Taking a chance to glance up into your worried eyes. Underserving of your soft touch searing his skin. An itch to run from our presence skitters across his veins. “I’m fine sweetheart just tired.”

Searching his face, those whiskey flecked green eyes so unlike the blue-greens of Will’s, catching something hiding in those deep depths he’s trying to hide. Never fooled by words, always inspecting his actions and those little tells partially concealed though you know them all too well. “You’re covering something up Winchester I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” patting his cheek and stepping away.

‘I don’t want you to go on that date,’ on the tip of his tongue poised to leave his lips he keeps smashed together burying those feelings to not ruin this chance you have at an apple pie life. The very thought tears his heart, rendering another hole in the punched out organ. Though it’s his own fault for giving you a million reasons to keep that boundary line in place. Tip toeing almost across a few times, but always toeing the line keeping himself in check. Head snapping around when something hard hits the back of his head, scowl in place though it’s more playful than menacing. “Did you just…” glancing towards the floor to find a lone pecan on the ground behind him. Head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed on your face, which is the total opposite of his holding a sweetly innocent look concealing the trouble he knows you’ll cause. “Seriously a pecan? That could’ve done damage Babe Ruth.”

Eyes rolling, snort issuing from your up turned lips, “I don’t know what you speak of Dean I’m just here making a pie minding my own business. Can’t help it if a pecan has it out for you.”

“Possessed it must be,” voice pitched in a poor imitation of Master Yoda, getting a boo hiss from your general direction. “Though something tells me a certain someone threw the poor helpless nut.”

Shrugging, face neutral a picture of indifference with hands on your wide hips ingredients spread out over the counter. “Stop calling yourself names Dean it’s not nice.” Bottom lip trapped for a second to keep from giggling at the way he’s looking towards you.

Enjoying this moment of normalcy you’ve managed to capture in these dark and dangerous times. Thoughts skittering towards Will, if he’s able to put up with the hunters life style? Former Marine, Will knows so little of what truly goes bump in the night making you worry he wouldn’t feel at ease. It’s the reason you’ve hesitated each time he’s asked you out. Not wanting to drag someone else into a life of blood and death. Persistence and patience paid off when you finally agreed on a dinner date for tomorrow night. One your actually looking forward to.

But then you glance towards Dean, seeing the smile grace those soft looking lips, shinning in his whiskey flecked green orbs for the first time in months and you hesitate. Would you want to leave this life for a man who wouldn’t understand you not fully anyway? Or stay and remain the best friend till a hunt takes one of you out? Could you truly leave your home with the Winchesters, with Dean?

His voice breaks through the your thoughts, ruthful chuckle echoing through the room, “Haha sweetheart stop trying to be John Candy it ain’t workin for ya,” bending to scoop up the tossed nut a memory filters through his mind. Opening a wound he thought long since closed over soaked in whiskey and women who’s names he’s forgotten. Shaking the thought away to ask, “You gonna chunk a nut at your boyfriend tomorrow night too? Or is that reserved for me?”

Not sure why he’s even asking or teasing you about it or the fact there’s a bite to the tone. He shouldn’t care about a simple date, yet the thought twists his gut smile slipping from his lips as he looks down at the pecan in hand. Unwillingly letting those images fill and play before his eyes.

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills

If you could find a dry way, I'd forever be still

But you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

December 2011

Run down two room shack a nicer way of putting it truly, you think while pulling up outside next to Baby’s sleek black side. Hands gripping the steer wheel till knuckles hurt and you can focus again through the haze of tears spilling down your cold cheeks. Still trying to grasp the fact Bobby Singer legendary hunter, go to lore man, and surrogate father, dead by a bullet from Dick Roman’s gun. Itching for vengeance you try to quell for another time when you can let all the anger out. For right now you knew he needed you more than any strategy planning or revenge thought.

Remembering Sam’s voice shaking, laced with pain, peppered with rage but above all coated in sadness you could hear over the phone lines. Never hesitating to drop the case — for now — breaking speed limit in the need to reunite with your boys. You’d do anything for family even those who weren’t by blood. Learning a long time ago that family doesn’t end with the DNA flowing through your veins.

Shaking those thoughts from your mind and existing the car only to lean back in and grab the bags from the passenger side. Standing to full height to peer over the top locking eyes with those anger clouded greens. “No I didn’t bring you anything Winchester so don’t bother asking.” Trying to lighten the situation with poorly used humor.

Words fail to leave thinned lips as you pass by, hand holding the creaking barely held together door open for you. Following behind his voice scratchy from no use, “Sam call you?”

“Of course silly why wouldn’t he?” Placing the bags on what could pass for a pile of rubble instead of an island countertop. Turning to face him cataloging each feature, the stone set of his jaw, shoulders tight with tension, eyes those beautiful normally vibrate whiskey flecked greens mute with anguish he tries to hide.

Shrugging, shoulders dropping forward with no will to keep them up, “He shouldn’t have your needed else where Y/N.”

“Bullshit Winchester,” moving with purpose to stand in his personal space. “Bobby was just as much a father to me as to you. There’s no other place I’d rather be than here, for a different reason yes but I’m not leaving so suck it up buttercup.”

Catching the flash of anger tinging the deep greens whether directed at you or himself you’re not sure. “We already salted and burned his body, there’s no reason for you to stay.” Turning away from your softening eyes knowing your going to try and reason with him. Make him see he’s not responsible for what happened.

“I know,” two simple words make him pause and turn back. “I didn’t come to say goodbye to Bobby, I came for you.” Taking one step closer arms wrapping around his slumped shoulders bringing him into the shelter of your embrace. Steady hands running the length of his stiff back, imparting your warm, trying to give comfort knowing he’s unaccepting of such sympathies.

Brows furrowing, frown tipping his lips downward, fists clinching at his sides, Dean tries to keep himself from giving into the solace he so easily could find in your embrace. Warmth sinking into his skin through the layers of clothing he wears, tingling his skin, quickening his pulse.“Why?”

“You need me, your not listening to Sam or Castiel talking about going off to track Roman down yourself,” spitting the Leviathan’s name out like chewed to long gum. Head resting against his strong chest feeling the slightly erratic beat of his heart against your ear.

Back stiffening, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do Y/N I can make that decision on my own.” Low growl rattling through his chest as he pulls from your arms and steps from the warmth evaporating from his body. “You should leave.”

“And get yourself killed?” Hands slamming to your wide hips glaring daggers at your best friend. “What happened wasn’t your fault Dean. Any one of us could’ve taken that bullet, Bobby knew the risks of the mission, accepted them and died…” swallowing the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. “A hero,” ignoring his last words, reaching out to try and take his hand only to have him pull away like you’ve burned him.

“Don’t, don’t try to reason this with me I know better,” turning his back to head for the wall covered in papers trying to figure out just what Dick Roman’s up too.

Shaking your head knowing he’s hurting but not wanting to voice those feelings, to make him appear weak. With a sigh leaving your frowning lips you move silently beside him looking over the wall of weird trying to piece together how everything connects. Brushing your hand against his, pinkie trailing to catch what you think is his forefinger. Wrapping the little finger tightly around his you lean over, “I’m right here when you’re ready Dean, I’m not leaving nor letting go.”

“You should,” not bothering to turn and face you. Memories of Lisa and Ben filter through his thoughts along with Bobby, his father and what he can remember of his mother. “I’m poison and get everyone around me killed.” He doesn’t want to add you to the growing list. Rather wanting you to leave and find a different path for your life.

Tugging on his finger to wrap the middle and forefinger with your ring and pinkie fingers, “Then Sam and I are the antidote to your poison.” Giving a soft sad smile to his side profile, wrapping him up into your arms. Resting your head on his shoulder, voice a gentle whisper of breath upon his cheek and neck,“Those reasons keep tallying up Winchester we’ll hit a million before long.”

Reminding you both of a long ago discussion between the two of you in Bobby’s junk yard while still teenagers. Before angels and demons, vampires thought long dead and ancient Leviathan brought back from the pit of purgatory. When you made the packed to never fall for each other and always remain best friends. To never let go no matter how dire the situation, you’d have each other’s back.

Evaporating memories of long ago, you speak softly still resting your head on his shoulder. “You work on this mosaic of papers you have plastered over the walls. I have a pie to bake,” not giving it much thought you quickly press a kiss to his stubbled cheek then turn to head back towards the passable kitchen area.

Tingles dance over his skin for longer than he wishes, wanting to suppress those feelings bubbling up to try and consume him. Thinking he could bury them under the mounting pain and self hated. Yet, the warmth of your arms, soft press of your lips, your words register and sink into his brain Dean turns to watch you work unable stop a few of those feelings from dancing around his heart. Single thought shocking him in its stark contradiction to his current state of mind, Dean Winchester self proclaimed ladies man has fallen in love with his best friend. A sucker punch to the gut making him gasp and reel that silent declaration in. Stuffing it under the right full emotions of anger and pain. Letting them tap dance through his veins instead, something much safer for the both of them. Something he could understand and deal with.

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

To cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But, baby, I just need one good one to stay

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare

It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware

'Cause you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

“He’s not my boyfriend yet Dean,” eyes rolling as you turn to melt the butter in a small sauce pan. Though there is a part of you wishing he could one day fill the role unless a single good reason can change your mind comes your way.

“But you want him too?” Words muttered through presses together teeth. Hating the fact he’s letting something so trivial effect him in such a way. You’ve had other boyfriends, one night stands he’s had to sit through yet this one feels different. As if he could truly loose you this time and those thoughts scare the shit outta him the most. Because yes you’re his best friend for longer than he can remember but above that you’re the woman who gets him, argues with him, sets his ass straight when he’s being stupid and above all or so he hopes, loves him warts and all.

Hands pause at his question looking into the melting golden liquid bubbling silently remembering to flick the tiny knob and turn the heat off. While your head screams to say yes but it’s a little small voice beating quickly beneath your ribcage making you pause. Clearing your throat to gather what thoughts you could from their scattered places. You’ve always spoke with honesty to Dean, unless circumstances dictated other wise, and you weren’t about to change now. Through you wouldn’t turn to face him when you did wanting to keep from seeing his eyes. Finding the reason for his questions in those green depths you’ve fallen for though never spoken the feelings. “Yes, he could…” swallowing to coat your dry throat to spit out the words rotting your stomach. “I could have a chance at happiness with Will, Dean. Why do you even ask?”

“I don’t want to loose you,” ‘Because I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue to tell you, give voice and life to his true feelings. Wanting you to stay and forget about those million other reasons he’s let slip between the cracks in your relationship.

Frozen in place, hands gripping the countertop beside the stove. “You wouldn’t loose me Dean I’d still go on hunts with you, I’d stick around,” lies tasting bitter on your tongue, heart beating triple time wondering if he’ll pick up on the dishonesty your speaking. Always feeling he’d never see you as anything other than his best friend. Never the type of woman to draw his attention, too soft and plush in places most men wouldn’t want and you didn’t pine for a man who’s given you a million reasons to walk away. So you shoved those feelings, the love you held back trying to make it work with other men. To find the one who’d surpass Dean destroying your feelings for the green eyed hunter, giving you the one reason to stay and belong. So why now did he have to put doubts in your mind? Why ask these questions when in years past he’d brush other men away as nothing more than a passing fancy?

Silently Dean stands slowly making his way towards you, taking in the ridged stance of your plush form. Hands itch to wrap around your thick waist and haul you against his chest. Pausing right beside you, brushing his fingers against yours too hook what he thinks is your forefinger with his pinkie. “You and I both know things wouldn’t stay the same between us sweetheart. He’d find a way to take you away from me,” praying you won’t pull away Dean turns to stare at your profile. Taking in the beauty he’s catalogued thousands of times, the curve of your lips when you smile, slope of your nose, eyes bright with laughter or spiting fire when angry usually at him. Softness of your cheeks under his palms the times he’s actually got to cup and caress the skin.

“We’ll remain best friends Dean that’ll never change,” gathering the courage to turn and look into his eyes. Catching the sadness coating those beloved greens making your heart ache. Tongue slipping out to tug back your bottom lip between your teeth indented them to keep from asking the question your heart demands.

Of its own accord Dean’s free hand comes up to brush over your cheek, cupping the soft skin, fingers spread from apple to jaw wanting so badly to draw you in and kiss those tempting lips. “I want you happy Y/N and if it’s possible out of this life, been wanting that for you since Bobby,” sliding his hand to your chin to pinch the end with his thumb and forefinger tipping your face up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll miss you sweetheart.”

Eyes lock with stormy greens after he pulls back, soft gasp parting your lips at the simple touch, words sounding like a goodbye instead of their usual see ya later. Grappling for words to say, questions to ask, trying to figure out what’s going on, and why now. But he’s gone before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and your turning to rush after, seeing his back disappear around the corner.

Feet finally responding to command as you quickly follow stopping at the doorway, “Give me one good reason.” Praying he’ll listen and stop, hoping it’s not too late. “Stop giving me all these reasons to leave.”

Back ridged but his mind a flurry of thoughts and answers, more questions than he could shake a stick at. Only one reason comes to mind, “Good reason to what?”

Traveling the short distance to take his hand intertwining your fingers with his, needing him to turn around and look at you. Needing the connection while stating, “Give me a good reason to stay Dean to not go tomorrow night.”

“I can’t,” partly wanting to flinch from your touch, to tug his hand free, and partly wanting to sink into your familiar embrace. Soak in the peace he always finds in your arms, to bath in your warmth and possibly bask in your love. But Dean wouldn’t be selfish he’d let you go even if it meant killing his own heart and soul.

The urge to punch him grows strong but your refrain from using violence, “Why not? Too scared? Or you just don’t care?”

The warmth of your hand disappears from searing into his palm, tingling those long nimble fingers, his eyes close knowing you’re walking away because of that millionth reason. Till the first brush of soft fingers tender in there touch upon his cheek. He gives in to the urge and rubs his slightly stubbled cheek into your palm. “If that’s you Sam, I’m gonna kick your ass dude,” ignoring your questions in favor of basking in your touch instead. Hearing the soft giggle from your lips brings a smile to his own. Eyes finally opening too stare into yours, almost doing a doubt take at what he sees in those beloved depths. “I don’t deserve you Y/N.”

“Stop giving me a million reasons Dean and give me the one that’ll make me stay,” imploring him with your touch, fingers tracing over his cheeks and jaw. Tracing his plush bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, “I just need one good reason.”

He’d find the situation funny if it’s anyone else standing in front asking the same question. Even Sam would get a chuckle from his lips, but you, his breath freezes, heart thumping wildly in equal measures of terror and excitement. The very thoughts running unrestrained in his mind scare the shit out of him, but only one truly feels right. Snaking an arm around your thick waist pulling you against his strong chest, fitting like missing puzzle pieces. His free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I love you.”

Tears slip from their ducts barely held back till those three simple words spill from his mouth jump starting your heart and sending your emotions swirling. Warm palms cradle your wet cheeks, gun callused thumbs brush hot tears away, you spy the worry and fear your non response sparks. “Do you mean it?” Wanting clarification before handing your heart over to the very man who’s held it for so long.

Knowing what your asking Dean stops waiting and lowers his mouth to yours. That first touch of lips electricity shoots through you veins. Body responding quicker with arms going around his neck to pull him firmly against you not a wisp of space between your bodies. Fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of his head while you slot your lips against his. Demanding and deep, a tangled dance of tongues. Clashing of teeth, a melding mouths and finding the right angles to draw those delicious moans from each of you. Till air becomes necessary and you break apart panting, “That answer your question sweetheart?”

“No,” smirking when his eyes narrow, “I wanna hear it again.”

No hesitation in speaking those three words, “I love you.” Groaning when your lips smash back to his. Stealing breath from his lungs and a moan from his chest, Dean walks you backward till your pressed against the cool tile wall. Lower pelvis holding your soft body in place so his hands can dance over your cotton covered plush form. Palm’s flat against your thick waist, slowly dragging them around and down to cup your generous ass. Squeezing firmly and making you gasp.

Using the opening as a way to work his tongue back into your mouth, delving in for another taste of your sweetness. Low groan existing when rearranging his mouth to fit differently and snag a gulp of air. Stubble abrading your chin in the most spectacular of ways. Pooling heat low in your belly and making your mind wander in other more salacious directions. Brought back from teetering on the deliciously desirable edge by a sharp bite, his teeth nabbing your bottom lip to tug, letting go with a wet pop. Breath fanning out over your heated cheeks. Eyes once closed now open and locked with yours a pleading undertone to the desire darkened greens.

Knowing what he wants to hear and unable to wait along, “I love you too Dean.” Heart bursting with unrestrained joy flooding your system and making you love drunk.

“Thank fucking God,” groaning, resting your foreheads together still trying to reign in the wild thumping of his heart. Your admission only serves to make the largest muscle spasm quicker. All his pent up emotions, desires and needs flowing to the surface, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from rushing into something too fast. Remembering it’s still fresh and new between the two of you a different path to the relationship already established in friendship.

Giggling softly, you cup both his cheeks, thumbs brushing along his skin, three days worth of stubble abrading your palms. “So,” teasing smirk pulling at your lips, “I better call Will huh?”

“For?” Trying to keep the bitter growl from escaping and giving away his feelings on the sore subject. Tugging your soft body back in place from your wiggles to side free, not ready to let you go just yet.

Sliding one hand down his chest to rest where you know his anti-possession tattoo resides. Tracing the edges with the tip of your finger over the black t-shirt he’s wearing, locking eyes with his, “Seems I’m a taken woman. Wouldn’t want to lead the poor guy on now would I?” Watching how those whiskey flecked greens darken, pushing his lower body deeper into your plush form. Barely heard as you try not to give away the whimper of need his body produces in your own, with his pressed so tightly. Cool concrete keeping you body temp from over heating for the moment.

“No,” clearing his throat leaning in to draw his nose over your jawline. Touring towards your ear, catching the lobe between his front teeth to tug. Low desire filled growl leaving his lips, followed by, “Tomorrow is another day sweetheart and right now you’ve got better things to do.”

Heading tipping over granting access to the parts of your neck he wants, trying to keep the shiver from rolling over your body. Heat flooding your veins sparking a need you’ve never felt with any of the other men you’d previously had relations with. “What,” licking your parched lips, “what better things Dean?” Praying it’s the same idea rolling around your head for the longest time.

Pausing in his mapping of your neck and shoulder with his lips, Dean raises his head to spear you with a heated look. “Me for starters sweetheart, that is of course…” uneasiness has him trailing off the first time in his life. The bitter taste of uncertainty coating his thoughts for a fraction of a second before your lips land back on his.

Teasingly soft presses, little ghost touches of your tongue, playfully dotting his cheeks, chin and forehead with your lips before brushing close to his ear. “Hey Dean,” smiling against his skin, tenderly pressing your lips just south of his ear. Nibbling the found patch of sensitive skin behind committing the spot to memory for later. Breath puffing out quicker feeling him shiver, knowing what the next words would invoke in Dean and his love for the movie. “You big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” sultry tone added to the cadence.

His eyes close for a moment, heart swelling as you recite the words to one of his favorite movies. Marveling at the fact you’ve remembered the lines perfectly and Dean falls deeper in love with you if that’s possible.

The gentle caresses of your lips against his skin setting fire to his nerve endings, room in his jeans becoming a hot commodity as his shaft thickens and throbs. Finding the distraction almost too much while trying to recall the next line. Teasing giggles reach his ears that he replies to with a deep chuckle. Words coming back to him, “Show me the way home, honey.”

Reaching down to tug one hand from your ass, chuckling with a shake of your head when it doesn’t budge but squeezes the generous globe. Notching himself tighter into your body, smirk appearing as your eyes widen, gasp issuing from parted lips. Bitting the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling before the words can escape. “Is that a pickle in your pocket or you just happy to see me?”

“Oh sweetheart it’s a great big dill I can show ya,” flashing a smirk, both of you trying hard not to laugh.

“Preferably,” deep voice tinged with slight offense but liberally coated in amusement. “In your own room so the both of you aren’t bare ass naked in the hallway bumping like bunnies,” having rounded the corner towards the kitchen and catching the intimate embrace. “A vision I don’t want branded into my skull thank you very much,” Sam paused arms crossed in annoyance. Golden dotted green eyes dancing with mirth, catching the playfully scandalous expression cross your features. Glancing towards Dean who buries his face in your neck getting a deep chuckle from his brother.

Try as you might to keep from busting out laughing they just rolled out of your mouth as your eyes lock with Sam’s. Acting stoic but the smile tugging at his lips and the teasing flash through his eyes speak a different story. Only thing holding you up is Dean’s body still pressed heavily against your. The man in question glancing up first to look at you then over his shoulder towards Sam. “Don’t even start Sammy,” grumbling good-naturedly giving him a middle finger salute and the opening you need to slip from between his hard body and the wall. Teasing growl rumbling through his chest at the loss of your warmth. Dean reaches out to snag your arm but you manage to dance out of his reach, giggles echoing off the walls trailing behind your disappearing form.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Dean but Cas owes me fifty bucks,” patent Sam Winchester smirk sliding over his lips. Brow raised at his scoff, “Can’t believe I had a betting pot going?”

Watching you run off happy grin tipping his mouth upward, he looks back at Sam grin still in place. “Just can’t believe it’s with Cas. Rowena maybe, Jody, Claire, Alex and Donna fuck yes but Cas,” incredulous look stealing over his features for a few moments.

“Who say’s the bet’s not bigger than you think,” broad shoulders shrugging same smirk in place, Sam enters the kitchen on that note leaving Dean to stare wide eyed after his baby brother. “Matter of time, always just a matter of time,” laughter tinged voice exists the kitchen, unseen shake of his head at the mess left behind.

Stock still for a fraction of a second till soft giggles echo quietly down the hall, grin turning into full blown smile. Need rushing back through his veins in remembrance of your position just a few short moments ago. Low curse existing his mouth, Dean turns racing off to find which room you’re hiding in.

Nerves tingled through your body, worry interrupting thoughts/memories of short minutes ago. Hard press of his body against yours, warm moist breath fanning out over your skin sending tingles of a different kind to skitter across your veins. But now standing in Dean’s room trying to figure out where to lay or stand that would invoke images of sensuality. You look down at your bare feet toes wiggling against cold concrete. Up wards to thick jeans clad thighs, a baby blue tank top covering your torso, self consciousness went out the window decades ago. After the first serious injuries you suffered at the hands of a vengeful spirit had you damn near stripped naked in front of Dean. Confidence in face of adversity knowing he’s the only one for miles around to patch you up.

Now though is different, same confidence but wishing for sexier clothing something to entice and tease. Small snort issues from the depths of your body knowing damn well you had nothing of the sort in your possession. Flannels, tank tops, t-shirts and jeans hunter’s required staples along with the functional under garments you groan at remembering are mismatched at the present.

“Beautiful even in those rumpled clothing,” deep voice breaking through thoughts and making a squeak sound as you quickly turn to face the lazily leaning against the door jam hunter. Arms crossed over muscular chest, biceps straining the black t-shirt’s sleeves, “I meant what I said before Sammy interrupted us.”

Tugging your bottom lip back under indented top teeth turning to face him fully, “Which part?” Barely keeping the mirth from bubbling over, “That I should show you the way home or you have a big dill?” Easy going banter calming your nerves even the part about feeling ill-prepared clothing wise.

Tender infused whiskey fleck green eyes turn molten with each sweep of your body. “I love you,” words escape as eyes stay locked, Dean pushing away from the doorway. Booted foot catching the hardwood door and slamming it shut behind him. Stocking towards you as a lion would his prey, licking parched lips wanting to devour you. Hands fisting at his side though to keep from reaching out and doing just that incase it’s something your not ready for.

His breath froze upon seeing you walking around his room, something akin to relief floods his veins along with a sense of rightness. Sure you’ve come in hundreds of times to wake him from a nightmare or mornings, to barrow music and to talk. Yet, this time feels different giving your relationship changed moments ago. Catching the indecision clearly written in those beloved eyes that don’t focus on one place too long. For a moment Dean wishes he could read your thoughts but then having hunted and lived together for decades he picked up the situation and cues without having to know your thoughts.

Pleased hum breaks Dean from the wondering trail his thoughts took him on to spy the sweet smile gracing your lips. Hands positioned on your hips one cocked to the side as you stand there waiting expectedly. Restraining himself, Dean opens his palms to bring them up and cup your cheeks dragging you against him. Lips meeting in the tenderest of kisses that he keeps in place while speaking, “You want this, want me?”

Recognizing his vulnerability and what he’s asking with those simple words, arms wrap around his back fisting the shirt tightly to press the two of you together. Love saturated eyes burn into those greens you could drown in, “That’s my question Winchester stop stealing my lines.” Flattening one palm to slide up and into his hair. Pressing another kiss to his soft lips you’ve only imaged kissing till now. The reality so much better than any fantasy you ever came up with.

“Calling me a thief now sweetheart?” Using jokes to cover the fact he’s searching for the right words. Flustered and frustration slither through his veins in a combination Dean’s not accustom, words stammering of unintelligible nature tumble from his mouth. The feel of your blunt nails sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

Nodding, craning your neck back a few inches but keeping your eyes locked, “You stole my lines and my heart Dean so yes that would make you a thief.” Hand sliding over his back now and settling into the back pocket of his jeans, “I also meant what I said back there.” Catching the cocked brow you elaborate, “Take me to bed Dean I’m tired of waiting, I want to know how it feels to have you inside me.”

Soft groan issues from parted lips. Wanting to act on your words so damn badly his body vibrates with barely contained desire. Forehead coming to rest against yours, strong hands sliding too loosely wrap around and caress your neck. “You know I’m not great at relationships. I could seriously fuck things up.”

“I know but then so could I,” any doubts or insecurities evaporating into the ether with every look.

Callused fingers brush over your bare shoulders sending sensual shivers cascading down your body. Rubbing your thighs together for added friction with the heated look Dean’s fixing you with. Boosting your confidence to step back his hands drop to the side as you own pinch at the hem of your tank top. Slowly pulling it from your body, letting it drop with a barely heard whisper.

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” resolve snapping, reaching for your hips and tugging you back against him harder than intended. Lips sealing quickly to swallow the gasp existed parted lips Dean takes advantage of and slips his tongue inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, it’s all teeth and tongues, fighting desperately for dominance. Pulling groans from the depths of Dean’s soul as he pulls whimpers and moans from your own. Till air becomes needed though it doesn’t stop your mouth from trailing a hot path across his stubbled jaw. Nibbling towards that little patch behind his ear to flick the tip of your tongue against. Smirking at the shutter rolling through his body, fingers dancing a rhythm over his shirt covered torso. Hem reached you tug twice to which he nods reaching behind him grasping and pulling the garment off to join yours.

Hands, palms flat immediately going to ghost over his rippling tummy. Muscle covered soften causing all moisture to pool south, clit throbbing almost painfully. Sure you’ve seen him bare chested before this time it’s different. For pleasure instead of patching him up. Drawing desired groans rather than pain filled. “I know Sam would abject but I so wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around shirtless.”

Full belly chuckle leaves Dean’s lips, “Sweetheart don’t talk about other men right now especially not my brother.” Possessive hands landing on your naked plush waist, fingers spanning the distance and gripping the flesh in his palm. Dreams having nothing on the real woman in his palms.

“Just stating facts sir nothing more,” trailing your fingers over the slightly hair roughen skin. Brushing pebbled nipples from the cool air and your proximity. Reserving a gasp when you lean forward to lap with the tip of our tongue and nip at the peaked point. Glancing to lock eyes as you switch and give the same attention to its twin giving the same attention getting a hiss from your actions. Dragging you lips upward to trace his tattoo with kisses.

Molten green eyes drinking in the sight of your lips on his skin, shooting desire straight to his cock. Throbbing need demanding attention no matter how good your soft lips feel against his body. “Baby girl,” groaning at the nip you place, eyes close to compose himself. Flying open as air cool brushes his skin inside of the shared heat of both your bodies. Mesmerized by the way you reach back to unclasp your bra, pushing your lushes breasts out teasing his vision, salivating for a taste of your skin.

He steps forward crowding into your space backing you into the bed till the back of your calves hit the edge. Wrapping his arms around your plush form to brush hands away and do the task himself. Finger tips skimming the edges of both straps till reaching the top at your shoulders and drawing them down. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while pulling the garment from your pliant body tossing it behind him. Eyes flicking down on a groan, licking his dry lips at the beauty displayed for his ravenous gaze.

“Lay down for me sweetheart,” meeting your lust blown orbs with his own. “I wanna see you in my bed,” biting off a whimper when you drop onto the edge. Bountiful breasts bouncing teasingly as he watches you slide backwards towards the head board. Hands going to the button of your jeans, low growl pausing your nimble fingers. “That’s for me to do baby girl, just,” swallowing harshly as he looks you over. Partially naked spread out over his bed picture perfect memory for those times when the darkness tries to steal this happiness. “Give me a moment to drink you in.” Unable to decide where to look first, “So fucking gorgeous.” Toeing off his boots, hands going to his own jeans your shaking head pausing the movements.

“I get the same pleasure,” licking your lips slowly while raising up on your elbows. Beckoning him with two crooked fingers, hand resting with the palms up beside your plush body, “Get up here before I get impatience and take matters into my own hands.”

Declaration making him pause a moment low growl rumbling from deep with in his chest. As desire blown green meet yours, smirk gracing his handsome features. One knee comes to rest on the mattress Dean leans forward keeping eyes locked while pressing a kiss to your ankle. Grinning, feeling the quiver that runs through your body. “You wouldn’t dare sweetheart,” adding his other knee to spread your legs and slowly fit his body between.

“Shall we make a bet Winchester?” Using your free foot to brushing the nearest thigh with the flat. Sliding towards the very noticeable bulge busting the seams of his jeans, toes teasing the thick ridge before pressing the flat of your foot against him. Rubbing the length slowly pleased when a growl echos the room.

Grabbing that foot tickling the pad enjoying the way you squirm and giggle. Taking the opportunity to move fully between your legs. “About that bet hum,” fingertips drawing an invisible path of fire down the middle your body. Bracing then both arms on either side of your shoulders hovering over you, warm breath fanning out over your cheek he nuzzles with stubbled chin. Pulling a whimper from your gasping lips.

Of there own accord, your hands slide up the strength of his arms and biceps to clasping fingers together around the back of his neck. Left leg draped over his waist to pull him against your pelvis, breathless moan parting your lips at the contact of his hard length pressing into your dripping center. “I don’t want slow or gentle Dean,” head tipping back to give access to his questing lips that find your wildly thumping pulse, sucking a mark into the soft skin. “We have all night for that I just…” words caught upon seeing whiskey flecked green eyes dilated almost pitch with desire. Cheshire Cat grin tugging kiss swollen lips upward.

“Just what sweetheart?” Humming, brushing your lips together before returning to his last spot. One hand dragging over your soft body cupping the generous globe massaging gently feeling the nipple peak against his palm. Teasingly circling the stiff nub with the tip of his index finger before giving a sharp pinch and making you gasp out. Back arching at the pleasurable pain skittering across your veins.

Grasping what’s left of your mind to try and form coherent words, body responding instead pressing your chest into his large hand. Nails score down his back, one completing the journey to give his ass a tight squeeze. As the other detours to between your intimately pressed body. Happy to find enough space to slot your palm against his erection, cupping his throbbing length and giving short little strokes. Smile blooming with a breathless groan against your collarbone where Dean’s forehead currently rests. Nimble fingers pop the small metal disk, pulling the zipper tab down to slip the hand inside. Warmth enveloping palm feeling him twitch has you slowly licking your lips at the mire thought of getting to taste him.

“You’re killing me Y/N,” rutting his hips into your hand, mouth coming back to claim yours in a punishingly bruising kill. Tangling your tongues together, nipping a little harder on your bottom lip than meaning to but the accompanying moan flows straight to his cock. Making him twitch against your palm that has slowed with the distraction of the kiss.

Breaking for air, panting while trying to form and speak the right words, “We’re both a little over dressed Dean.” Pulling your hand from the tight confines of his jeans, using the one at his ass to help pull them and his boxers down only stopping when you couldn’t reach anything passed his knees. Sigh of relief exists his parted lips making you giggle and press a kiss to his chin. “Feel better?” Bottom lip trapped and nibbled on as your fingers brush his length. Finding your fingers barely wrap around the girth while to stroke, palm sliding over precum leaking head. Hips thrust forward at the sensations tingling down his back gathering low in his belly.

“Now who’s over dressed?” Mumbling the words against your skin. Dean regretfully brushes your hand aside grinning at the annoyed huff that leaves your lips. “Ah sweetheart put that sexy pout away you’ll get a chance to taste me soon enough. Cause if you keep using that soft hand on my cock I’ll cum faster than I want.”

His words presenting so many thoughts to run through your mind only cut off when wet warm heat engulfs your right nipple. Tongue flicking quickly over taut peak, blunt teeth nipping then soothing over with the tip of his tongue. Switching to the twin leaving both sloppy wet and tight, gleaming in the low light of his room. Worshipping at the temple of your body with kisses pressed into your tummy, running scared callused hands over your skin in silent reverence. Eyes taking in very inch Dean sits back on his knees between your parted legs. Tracing his knuckles along the seam of your jeans covered cunt, making you jolt against him.

Pausing to strip your jeans and panties from your body, tossing them and kicking his own off to land somewhere on the floor. Raising up on elbows to finally get a chance to look at him in all his naked glory. Tracing each divot of scars over a broad chest, passing over the middle to admire thick bowed legs spread wide. Lips licked slowly upon landing on his ridge cock, slightly curved and resting against his lower belly. Palm itching for a touch, mouth watering for that taste. “You’re beautiful Dean,” words whispered so low your unsure if he’s really heard them.

Heat blooms over his cheeks at your admission, looking your fill of his adonis body. Dean returns the admiration. Tracing the features of your beloved face, staring a little too long at your heaving breasts, soft tummy he wants to nibble on at some point. Thick thighs he can’t wait to have wrapped around his waist once he’s buried deep inside your wet heat. The very though has his eyes dropping between your parted legs, glistening folds beckoning him forward. Caught in that tempting trance, Dean slides back between your legs. Brushing his lips just above your mound and receiving a whimper from you. Locking eyes, “I think you got that backwards sweetheart, it’s you who’s beautiful.” Dipping to run the thick flat of his tongue through your folds, humming at the tangy sweetness exploding over his taste buds.

Hips cantering against his mouth, your own letting a deep moan free as one hand slides down to card through his short brown locks. Tugging the strands getting a groan to vibrate against your cunt while his talented tongue dances through your soaked folds. Torturing your clit with ghosted touches, one arm wraps around our thigh spreading you open. As the other slips a finger inside your wet channel, finding you squeezing and tight, garnering a deep groan of arousal from the man between your lips.

“Dean,” voice wrecked and he’s barely touched you. When he doesn’t answer or budge from his sensual assault on your cunt. Lips having formed a perfect O around your clit, tongue flicking kitten licks to the tiny nerve filled nub. Pleased with he whimpers and whines that filter through his desire filled mind.

Resulting in you tugging on his hair harder, back arching as a small shock rocks through your body, tingling your belly when he bites carefully on your clit. “Dean please,” eyes rolling back into your head at the added second finger. Crooked and pressing into the little spongy spot you’ve never had anyone touch. Ripping a half scream from the hidden depths of your soul.

Smug smirk tugging over slick wet lips, stubbled chin coming to rest just above your mound. Watching as you heave a breath, breasts catching his eyes for a moment till you tug again. Fingers anything but still as they thrust and scissor you open, working you carefully to fit his slightly above average length not wanting to hurt you. “Yes sweetheart?” Licking his lips from your slick.

Free hand coming up to cover your heated face, “Don’t sound so smug,” gasping the last word when his thumb brushes over your clit making you jump and wither. Heat spreading from that special spot in your belly, where the tight coil starts to wind higher. Thick thighs tremble with each sensation Dean draws out of you. “Need you, please, please.”

Caressing your quivering walls with the gun callused pads of his fingers, massaging your clit as you plead. Breath chocked out on another moan, chest heavy, heat coating your skin as you wither under him. “Ah but I can’t help myself sweetheart you don’t know what seeing you like this does to me.”

Gathering what little strength you have in your limbs to reach down and cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over the skin under his eyes. “Why don’t you get up here and show me Dean?” Voice wreaked yet a tender undertone rides through the cadence.

Pressing a single kiss to the pulsing little clit, giving once last flick making your squirm and Dean to chuckle. Slowly pulling his fingers out, stroking twice more your hips chasing the indescribable ecstasy winding its way through your veins. Only to have the tingles dance slower, the coil start to unwind as frustrated huff leaving your gasping lips.

Taking advantage to plunder your mouth, greedy for a sample of the wet cavern and a tongue tango that draws out a sharp moan of need. Especially tasting your tangy sweetness from his lips, sucking the bottom between your teeth to nibble. While reaching blindly over to the nightstand, damn near yanking the whole draw on the ground in his haste. “Give me a sec woman,” huffing out he rolls slightly off you. The noise drawing a giggle out causing him too stiffen, glancing back with a playful glare to refocus on finding his prize.

Using the opportunity to nose the thick column of his neck, taking in the scent of whiskey, leather and motor oil, peppered now with sex and sweat. Addicting and unable to help yourself from sink your teeth into his skin gently but hard enough to leave a small soon to purple mark. Soothing over with the flat of your tongue catching sight of the pause your actions caused. The aroused moan that leaves his lips, head resting on the bed to try and gather himself from your onslaught.

“Something wrong Dean?” Nipping just below his jaw, tracing your fingers along his side. Index finger swirling through the spares, crisp hairs leading a path to what you’ve craved to have inside you for a long time. Nimble fingers surround the base forming a perfect circle that can’t close but tightens. Stroking his length teasingly slow. In return receiving a warning growl — the sound devastating your senses making you throb — from the man currently fishing for a condom and growing frustrated when his fingers come up empty. “Shall I stop my love? Am I distracting you?” Whispered words breathed into his ear, lips kissing the shell. Knowing damn well just how tormenting you are to his senes and body. If his twitching cock your hand currently wrapping around stroking and the shallow breaths are any indication.

“Ha,” triumphant shout of accomplishment, Dean rolls back over you pressing bodies together and into the mattress. “Now where were we?” Flashing that teasing smirk with a hard rutting of his hips against your dripping core and tight fisted hand.

“What to you so long stud?” Biting back the giggles when he fixes you with a scowl.

Breath hissing out through clinched teeth when taking your hand off his cock, bringing those wickedly wonderful fingers to his lips and sucking on each one with a short nibble. Placing the open condom pack in your palm, “Do the honors sweetheart.”

Curling your fingers around the little foil packet, pressing your other hand into the back of his neck drawing Dean in for a tender kiss. Slow meld of your lips, light sips of your warm mouths. Tenderly tugging his bottom lip, to slide your tongue over the bruised skin and into his mouth. Licking and touring the heated cavern, seeking out ways to make his moan and grunt. A moment of forgetfulness while mapping his tonsils and sucking on his tongue, till you break for air. Chasing his mouth for more kisses only to receive a chuckle instead.

Eyes open to spear him with a heated look, foil packet crinkling in your hand a remind of your mission. Slipping fingers from his soft hair, to trace over his body, joining its partner between the two of your heaving bodies. Unlocking your eyes to glance down, hand wrapping back around his thick shaft to stroke twice getting a needy moan from the man above you. Before teasingly rolling the condom on paying special attention to the thick pulsing vein on the underside, mouth watering at the thoughts of getting to taste it later.

Dean grasps one of your hips to bring the leg around his waist, opening you up and feeling your soft skin under his palm. Sliding between your bodies to entwine his fingers with your, pumping his cock together. Different sounds, a hiss from Dean and a moan from you exists on shuttering breaths. Eyes reattach both blown with desire and coated in need, you notch the head of his cock at your entrance pressing the heel of your foot into the small of his back to urge him forward.

Teeth clamping to draw blood from your bottom lip but also to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he slowly sinks inside your quivering depths. Reaching up with his other hand to free your bruised lip, brushing the pad of his thumb over the glistening skin. “I wanna hear you sweetheart don’t hold back.”

“What about Sam?” Breath hitching, mouth hanging open on a moan that’s trapped on the edge of a scream when he bottoms out against you. Bodies flush, joined hands now resting above your head where Dean’s placed them.

Leaning in to press open mouth kisses to your lips and neck letting you adjust to his size, the exquisite stretch thumps through your veins the slight sting only heightening the pleasure. “Never mention his name while we’re in bed sweetheart,” snagging the lobe of your ear with his teeth. Pleased when you nod speechless, though not enough, “Words baby girl I wanna hear that prefect voice of yours.”

Swallowing trying to form words to answer, scoring your nails down his back an impatience mewling whimper leaves instead. Using the leg not wrapped around Dean’s waist as leverage to plant and push your hips up against him. Squeezing your walls tightly around his shaft drawing out a grunt from his lips. “Dean…” going to say more but he chooses that moment to pull out till just the crown rested inside your pulsing channel. “Just you…” hips snapping forward to fill you quickly stealing those words into a loud scream of ecstasy.

Starting a hard punishing rhythm, repeatedly waiting till your fixing to speak and either pulling out or trusting home. Always taking away what your going to say. Knowing your trapped between frustration and pleasure, Dean captures your mouth in another deep kiss. While his hips snap against yours, wrapping the other leg around his waist to angle you differently. Pressing your intertwined hands into the pillow beside your head and breaking the bruising kiss to gulp a lung full of air into both your burning lungs.

Feeling your walls start to quiver around his hammering cock, knowing by the pinched look on your countenance, the quivering of your thick thighs clutching at his trim waist. Heels pressing into the small of his back drawing him forward with quickened strokes that he’s shortened from the long deep thrusts. Notching your legs higher on his waist to press forward, curling his pelvis into your core, determined to make you cum first. Wanting to feel you soak his cock, see the looks of pleasure dance across your features.

Sliding his fingers through your soaked folds to find your pearl pulsing, pressing the pad of his thumb circling to make a gasp fly from your lips. Back arching, tingles no longer gentle but tap dancing a rhythm through your veins. Dean’s name a chant from your dry, parched lips, panting to try and fill your starving lungs. Body vibrating on a higher frequency only Dean’s turned in on as with every snap of his hips, brush of his thumb sends your spiraling deeper into euphoria.

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck to bring him back down for another kiss. This one sloppy as the thrusts of Dean’s hips, brief touches of lips, wet slide of your tongues across the other. Eyes sliding closed only to snap back open with a pinch to your nipple soothed over my his teasing fingers.

“Keep those beautiful eyes open for me sweetheart and cum for me I know your close. You just gotta let go for me,” resting your foreheads together, gritting his teeth to starve off his own orgasm. The wet clinch almost too much for Dean to handle. Always wondering but never imagining how good this truly would feel.

“Dean,” breathing out his name, a series of moans and whimpers following. Trying to capture his mouth for another kiss that’s broken off when your orgasm slams into you soaking Dean’s cock in your slick. Eyes rolling back his name a screamed prayer from your lips.

Body convulsing in pleasurable all consuming fire, little sparks of light pin prick behind your tightly closed eyes. Moisture breath fans out over your neck where Dean buries his face, lips pressing into your skin. Chasing that high while working you through your orgasm the wet clinch of your walls prove too much to starve off any long. Giving in with a groan of your name rubbed into your skin as he fills the condom. Circling his hips a few more times to drag out the pleasurable spikes racking his frame.

Collapsing into your arms a welcome weight pressing you into the mattress as you both try to capture your breath. He brings your joined hands down starting to untwine them but the shake of your head stops the actions.

“For a few moments longer,” voice hoarse from screaming out your pleasure. Free hand coming up to card through his sweat drenched hair. Brushing the strands back from his forehead and sliding your lips over his. Brief touches, lingering into something deeper. Tender caresses of mouth’s, nibbling, and sucking softly on bruised skin. Dean starts to move getting a whimpered whine from your throat tightening your arms around him.

“Gotta clear you up sweetheart I’m not going anywhere,” reassuring you with another soft kiss while carefully pulling out of your tender depths. Mesmerized by the slick coating your tights and dripping from your convulsing walls. Brushing his fingers over the reddening swollen skin, gasp reaching his ears, eyes flying up to yours. Then flicking across your body seeing the beard burn on your neck and chest, hand prints blooming over your hips. “Did I hurt you?”

Sitting up to cup his cheeks, “No Dean you didn’t hurt me. If you had I would’ve told you.” Leaning in to kiss him tendering, “Better take care of that mess it’ll get awful sticky otherwise,” giving him a bright smile. Watching while he gingerly takes the spent condom off, tying it closed before tossing it into the waste bin by the night stand.

Raising to walk on shaky bowed legs to grab up the wash cloth from the sink. Wetting with warm water he turns back stunned to find you watching him with a grin on your lips. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm no,” seeing the frown you go to finish. “Love Dean, I see the man I love,” frown switching to teasing smirk as he nears the bed.

Nudging you to lay back and spread your legs, tenderly wiping you clean. Dragging the warm cloth over your folds and inner thighs. Tossing it behind him to crawl into bed gathering your pliant plush body against his hard chest. Back pressed into his front, arms wrapped tightly around your thick waist. Placing a kiss to your shoulder, “I love to you Y/N, get some rest I’m far from through with you.”

Soft giggles vibrate into his chest, “Careful you’re getting old baby you sure you’ll have the stamina?” Toying with the fingers tapping against your tummy sending shivers cross your body.

Low growl accompanies the drag of his teeth over your sensitive skin, drawing a moan from your lips. Pressing his hips into your generous ass, “Give me an hour sweetheart and I’ll show you just how much stamina your man has.”

#Request #SPN Mixed Bingo Square #Hurt/Comfort #Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader #Dean Winchester x Plus Size Fem!Reader #Dean Winchester x Plus Size F!Reader #Supernatural fiction

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Twisted 7 - Enemies with Disregard [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, smoking, drinking.

Summary: Ice meets fire.

Being heartbroken over a genius whom you weren’t even dating to begin with was not something you saw coming, but here you were.

Lying in bed, eating chocolate and trying your hardest to focus on the show playing on the huge TV.

“That’s a beautiful wedding dress, fuck what your aunt says!” you shouted at the screen, chewing on the caramel chocolate but then looked up when you heard the front door open.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

You groaned and turned your head to see your sister walk into your living room before she leaned on her hip.

“Oh great, you’re still where I left you.”

“I gave one person a key,” you pointed at her, “One. I don’t know if it was mom or you or your wife, but when I remember who it was, that person will be in trouble.”

“It was mom and we had copies made for times like these.”

You made a face and slid a little on the couch, “You should just leave me with my misery.”

“Are you seriously still sulking over that Reid guy?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She heaved a sigh and plopped down next to you, “The guy you liked suspected that you were a killer. So what? It could happen to anyone.”

You shot her a look, “Mina I’m pretty sure it doesn’t just happen to anyone,” you said, “In fact, I’m one hundred percent sure I’m the only person in the entire world who has had this problem.”

“It’s the 21st century,” she reminded you, “There’s some surreal shit happening every day, I’m willing to bet it happened to someone before.”

You popped a piece of chocolate into your mouth “Yeah well. It doesn’t matter.”

“Did he call you?”

“Yeah.” You tossed her the phone and she checked the screen.

“You’re not going to call back?”

You scoffed, “I’m busy.”

“Watching reality TV doesn’t count as being busy,” she said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“The charity ball is tonight, I’ll be busy towards the evening.”

“Oh right, I forgot about that.” Mina mused, “I mean…. At least you can get your mind off him tonight then. There’ll be so many insufferable people in there, you’ll fit right in.”

You were way too bummed out to retort to that.

“Um- about that,” you murmured, “There’s a huge chance that he will show up there.”

Mina blinked a couple of times, “I beg your pardon?”

“Apparently it would be a good place to see if the killer showed up, since they’re obsessed with dad’s life, so Spencer and his team might show up.”

She reached for the chocolate box in your lap and grabbed a piece,

“You must’ve fucked up in your previous life or something to piss off the universe like this,” she commented, “That being said, you’re overreacting.”

“I’m overreacting?” you exclaimed, sitting up straighter, “He implied—”

“There’s a copycat killer out there who looks up to dad, copying his life, dad was raising you to follow his footsteps and he wanted to talk to you after that first kill. You would’ve thought the same, and that’s not even your job.”

“I just wish…” you trailed off, “I just wish someone would actually have a good opinion of me, you know? I know it’s stupid to want that, but I guess I hoped Spencer would think that about me.”

“Hey,” she kicked at your feet, “I have that good opinion of you. Not just me, my wife adores you and my kid thinks you hung the moon. Who the fuck cares what anyone else thinks?”

That somehow made you smile and you nodded slowly, turning your gaze to her.

“Damn right,” you said, “Who the fuck cares what anyone else thinks?”

***

It took you almost three hours to get ready, but after three hours, you were finally happy with the way you looked. You walked through the entrance of the ballroom, fixing your bracelet, the chatter of people talking to each other, the lovely smell and soothing music greeting you.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as terrible as you thought it would be.

After all, it was for a good cause, so you could definitely bear it for a couple of hours

“Oh here you are!” your mother approached you, a smile warming her face, “You look gorgeous in red! I have to be honest with you, for a moment I thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“The thought did cross my mind,” you grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray one of the waiters was holding, “Thanks.”

“Mina mentioned you were having some romantic problems?”

“What?” you let out a snort as she linked her arm through yours, walking beside you, “I don’t have any problems and there’s no…romance.”

“Yet, but the night is still young.”

“Mom,” you whined, “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to set me up with someone in here.”

“I’m not!” she said, “I just think you could meet some people, that’s all. And if you happen to meet anyone and fall in love, decide to get married and have cute little babies—”

“Mom.”

“Tonight would be a lucky beginning!” she waved her hand, “That’s all.”

“That’s all? Oh good thing it’s not much.” You deadpanned, “Anyone ever told you that you have high expectations?”

“Multiple people on multiple occasions, they turned out to be wrong in the end,” she pointed out but before she could say anything else, a middle aged woman with a very high updo stopped you.

“Y/N honey!” she blew a kiss in the air so as not to ruin your or her makeup, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you in a place like this.”

“Hi Sarah,” you smiled at her, “I’ve just been so busy. And I know I can’t look as good as this lady over here,” you pointed at your mom with your thumb, making her chuckle, “So I figured I shouldn’t even try.”

“How sweet!” Sarah clasped her hands together, “Now that I got you here, Tracy wanted to hire you for her wedding and I promised her I would ask.”

“Ah unfortunately my client list is full,” you hissed in a breath, “So sorry about that, but I can recommend an amazing colleague of mine, I’ll tell my assistant to mail her.”

“That’s great!” she said, “This whole wedding business is insane, she’s under so much pressure— oh there she is, excuse me.”

“Congratulations for the wedding,” you called out as she walked away and your mother raised her brows.

“Your client list is full?”

“Not really,” you said, “But Tracy said my hair looked terrible and pushed me into the pool when we were ten, I’m not helping that bitch with her wedding.”

“She really is insufferable,” your mother whispered, “Like mother like daughter, and I just think—” she stopped talking when her eyes stopped on someone in the crowd and you turned your head to see what she was looking at.

More like who she was looking at.

The older man had to be around your mother’s age, maybe only a couple of years older, but he could definitely pull off the suit and the grays in his carefully styled hair. He looked like he was having fun, telling something to the people around him who looked like they were hanging onto every word he said, but when he caught your mother’s glances out of the corner of his eye, he smiled at her, raising his glass a little.

You could’ve sworn you heard a small giggle coming from your mother and you tried to look not as amused as you felt.

“Well, go on then,” you said, nudging her and she looked at you, suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh sweetheart, no way.”

“Why not? I don’t see a wedding ring.”

“He was widowed ten years ago,” she said and you pulled your brows together.

“And you know that how?”

“Well you inherited those party planning talents from me darling, I know everything about everyone here.”

You clicked your tongue, “Well, okay then. My condolences, go get him tiger.”

“Y/N!”

“What?” you let out a laugh, “Mom, I work with couples, okay? It’s like Hunger Games out there. Besides, what was it you told me? If you happen to fall in love, get married and have cute little babies—“

“Babies?!”

“Dogs, mom. I mean dogs.” You heaved a sigh, “So I’m going to walk away to give the silver fox over there enough space to make his move.”

“He really does look good, doesn’t he?” your mother mused but then shook her head, “What am I saying?”

You tried to stop yourself from laughing, then stepped back, “Go. It’s about time Mina stopped being the only member of this family who’s lucky in love.”

“But sweetheart, you are lucky.”

A bitter smile pulled at your lips and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nah,” you said, “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“I’m not letting you go away before you tell me what happened with that agent. Spencer Reid, right?”

You lowered your glances to the champagne glass in your hand. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing really,” you shrugged your shoulders, “It’s just…life. He works in the FBI, even if he did have feelings for me and that’s a big if, there would always be that doubt, you know? About how much influence dad has over me. He’s always going to have that suspicion at the back of his mind.”

“Is he going to have that suspicion or are you?” she asked, making your eyes snap up to hers and she heaved a sigh.

“I’m your mother, and you’re not as secretive as you’d like to think sweetheart,” she said, “There’s not a bone in your body that’s capable of doing what your father has done to all those poor people, Y/N. Trust me.”

You swallowed thickly and cleared your throat.

“We can talk about it after you flirt with that silver fox who’s looking at you as we speak,” you said as you downed your champagne, “You know what they said about the killer potentially being here so stay here in the crowd.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with him, people would talk!”

“Oh yeah, scandal,” you wiggled your brows, “Be careful, you crazy kids.”

With that, you walked away from her, desperate for a cigarette. You had been here before, and there had to be a balcony somewhere-

Bingo.

Maybe Spencer wouldn’t even show up. That wouldn’t be so surprising after all, FBI had a bunch of other agents, so maybe there were already some undercover agents in here and you didn’t know it yet.

Even if he did show up, you were sure you wouldn’t talk to each other since he would be busy trying to find the copycat and you had been avoiding his calls and texts. The small voice at the back of your mind scolded you, and you wondered for a moment whether Mina was right, whether you were overreacting but before you could reach the balcony, you were stopped by someone and you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Hi,” the guy said, “Y/N?”

You blinked up at him, trying to focus. He looked strangely familiar with dark hair and light blue eyes, and his smile reminded you of something you couldn’t put your finger on. His suit was expensive and just by his posture you could tell you were from the same circle.

All of you were taught the same thing after all. Chin up, back straight.

“Oh God, let me guess,” you said with a sigh, “My mom sent you.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion, “Uh, no she didn’t?”

“Listen buddy, no offense because you look really good but I’m going through some really weird shit right now so these are not the droids you’re looking for—”

“I’m Lincoln,” he cut you off, “We used to be neighbors when we were kids?” he tilted his head, “I uh… we used to play house in your treehouse?”

Your eyes widened as soon as it dawned on you.

“Linc?” your jaw dropped, “Oh my God hi!”

“Yeah, hi,” he grinned at you, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“The last I heard you were in….?”

“Italy,” he said, “I was dealing with my father’s business there but I came back a couple of months ago. How about you? I could swear my mom said you have an event planning business now?”

“Yeah my company deals with events but I specialize in wedding planning,” you said, “Wow. It’s been years huh?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, “It’s great to see you. I- I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say but I’m sorry about your dad.”

You forced yourself to smile and grabbed another glass of champagne. “Oh. Thanks.”

“You know, I wanted to reach out but we were both kids, and then afterwards it just felt strange,” he said as you dragged your gaze from him to the room, but as soon as your eyes landed on the figure by the entrance, the rest of Lincoln’s sentence became drowned out in the buzzing in your ears.

God damn it, you were right about the black suit looking good on him.

Spencer looked oblivious to the rest of the crowd just like you were, his gaze focused on you. You saw him swallow thickly, as if the mere sight of you was enough to make him freeze while his teammates spread out in the huge ballroom and you let out a breath, trying your hardest to ignore how fast your heart was beating.

“You okay?” Lincoln’s voice carried through the fog in your mind and your head snapped up.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, “I am. Uh…Linc, it was really nice to see you but I need some fresh air. Let’s catch up sometime, okay?”

Without even waiting for his answer, you made your way to the balcony, pulled open the huge glass door and stepped outside, letting the cool air hit your face. You inhaled deeply, then grabbed your cigarettes from your purse, put one between your lips and lit it. The first drag managed to calm you down just a little as you closed your eyes, exhaling the smoke.

It made no sense that you were this affected by some dude’s presence.

You heard the door open behind you but you didn’t even need to turn your head to see who it was. Your body responded way before you did, your shoulders rolled back and you straightened your back, fixing your eyes in the darkness.

“Did you know that in the United States alone, cigarette smoking causes 80 to 90% of lung cancer deaths?”

You raised your brows, still refusing to turn your head.

“Yeah? Do you have any percentages for killers who smoke as well?” you asked, putting your glass of champagne on the marble railing pillars and you heard footsteps behind you coming closer. You stole a look at him as he leaned back to the pillars, taking out his earpiece.

“Can we talk?”

“It’s a free country Dr. Reid, no one’s stopping you.”

He pulled his brows together, “You never call me that.”

“Well I should,” you said, “I think we can both agree that it’s better to keep it professional.”

“Is that what you want?”

A bitter laugh escaped from your lips, “Fuck what I want,” you murmured to yourself, taking a drag of the cigarette and he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” he said, “It’s not that I suspect you. It’s just that the profile would fit—” he paused, “It was before we met. It’s not what I think of you now.”

You tried to swallow the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat.

“What do I care what you think of me?”

This right there, this was the exact reason why every relationship of yours ended. Mina had called it the shock effect, it was either too warm or too cold with you, in terms of affection. Much like the rest of you, your anger either burned everything on its path or froze everything.

You knew it was wrong, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself once that ice made its way through your veins.

But unlike everyone else who had witnessed it before, Spencer was a profiler and he could see right through that.

“You don’t?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I can’t worry about what people think of me, really. I wouldn’t be able to pull through what happened if I had.”

“But if what I said hurt you—”

“Hurt me?” you repeated, interrupting him and locked your eyes with him, “You don’t know me, Reid. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

He stayed silent, his hazel eyes looking into your soul but you dragged your gaze away from him and exhaled the smoke into the chilly night.

“You think, what— you think just because we’ve had couple of drinks together along with some flirting you discovered some hidden part of me? Honestly, what you know about me is about the same amount of information that any one night stand with enough skills to use Google would know about me.” You took a sip of the champagne and scoffed a laugh, “But hey, before I forget. Sorry if what I said hurt you.”

“Are you done?”

That was enough to make you turn your head, the question taking you by surprise,

“What?”

“Are you done?” he repeated, for some reason the look in his eyes made you feel like you were falling off a cliff, “If someone’s going to get hurt it’s not going to be you, and you can attack back just fine, are you done proving that? Or should I wait a little longer?”

You clenched your teeth, “You think this is me attacking back?”

“I think this is the only way you know how to protect yourself when you’re hurt.”

A painful smile pulled at your lips and you took a drag of the cigarette,

“You know, after my father was caught and imprisoned,” you said slowly, “After that summer, I had to go back to school. My mom was pretty worried but she let me go anyway but this whole social circle is so small, so every kid’s parent in my school knew about what happened, and they apparently talked about it around my classmates back then. Because on my first day, some of my friends ambushed me in the girls bathroom and in all that chaos, one of them tripped me so I fell and slammed my head to the sink. I had to get stitches, I thought mom would lose it.” You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ve learned that people would blame me for whatever shit dad decided to do when I was a kid, Spencer. You’d have to try a little harder if you wanted to hurt me, because right now you’re just being a cliché.”

You took a step to walk past him but he stopped you, his grip around your arm firm but soft at the same time, as if he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t cause any discomfort even though the light in his eyes was intense enough to wake goosebumps on your arms.

He knew how to keep it under control just like you.

“It’s not—“ he started but both of you snapped out of it when the balcony door opened.

“Reid, where the hell is your earpiece?” Luke asked through his teeth as Spencer pulled his hand back and you tried to ignore the warm tingles spreading under your skin, “We found a body upstairs.”

Your stomach dropped, “What?”

“Same signature, come on,” Luke said and you and Spencer followed him out of the balcony. The crowd was buzzing already and your mother made her way to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah I was just smoking outside.” You answered quickly and looked up at Spencer when you heard him saying your name.

“Stay here in the crowd,” he said as he put his earpiece back and you nodded.

“Hey,” you stopped him before he could take a step, “Be- be careful, okay?”

A small smile ghosted over his lips before he made his way out of the crowd with Luke and you massaged your temples before pulling yourself a chair. Your mother pressed a hand over her chest and sat down next to you, watching the people whispering with scared expressions on their faces.

It took her two minutes to pull herself together and she cleared her throat.

“Is that him?”

You gawked at her for a couple of seconds, your mouth agape.

“Mom, there’s a dead body upstairs,” you reminded her, “Read the room.”

She shook her head, “Of course, it’s the shock talking.” she said, stealing a look at you, “Sorry. It’s such a tragedy.”

“It is.”

“….But seriously, is that him?”

You groaned and closed your eyes, throwing your head back and slipping a little in your seat.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 8

***

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#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #dr spencer reid #spencer #reid #reid x reader #reid imagine #reid imagines #spencer x reader #twisted

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Note

Darling Dom😘 kiss #4 for e&b? Please and thank you🌻

Again.

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) Rating: Mature/NSFW Summary: It’s been three months since the incident. They haven’t been intimate since.. except today Becca thinks it’s time to try again. Warning: Eludes to pregnancy termination/loss Trope: NSFW, Partnership, Pregnancy, In Love, Traumatic, Ethan POV.

#4 …where it hurts.

A/N: from the write a kiss list. Oh Petra thank you for requesting this 💚 I was seriously stuck on what to write for these beans for a very long time. One night I was in my feelings and spilled this out in the dead of night. It’s raw, got away from me and I’m not really sure there’s a coherent plotline. It’s also my very first attempt at smut. This is in the DWHAF? universe with the intended audience of just you and me. I know you’re on hiatus right now and hope you’ll find this soon. I love you 💕

A/N2: this is emotional porn. again, i have done ZERO editing to this. please be gentle.

__________________

It hurts.

Not physically, no.

It’s an ache in the chest that never seems to heal.

Becca thought she was ready. It has been months, after all. Three weeks was the recommended recovery time, her own proclivities chose six just to be safe. Just to make sure everything healed the way it should.

The reality is it’s been three months.

They haven’t had sex since the week before she took that daunting test.

Ethan hadn’t pushed her. It wasn’t his place too. And he had bigger worries than their libido - like the grim look on her face, and getting her back to work. Bringing the color back to her smile. Even when it did return, duller than before but there, he worried.

If Ethan was being honest he hasn’t felt like it either.

So Becca got to choose when they were ready to go farther than sweet kisses and soft above-waist caresses.

She chose tonight; quite randomly Ethan must admit. Nothing about the day was very romantic nor inspiring, everything about it was the same mundane routine they’ve fallen into.

The only difference being the hunger in her eyes as they left work and the fervent kisses up his arm and on his neck in the elevator up to their condo. The way she pulled him down to her lips the moment his key scraped against the lock of their door. Her determined fingers unbuttoning half his shirt before they’ve even crossed the threshold. Shoes tossed in the same motion as their tops.

Ethan gathered her in his arms. Hiked her up around his waist carrying her to the bedroom. His lips never leaving her skin. It’s been so long it feels like the first time. The butterflies and electricity and static and wonton anticipation, he’s already hard and twitching just thinking about being in her again.

He sets her down on the bed as gracefully as a his inherent carnage would let him. Becca bounces on top of the memory foam, her fists gripping at his pants.

Ethan playfully bats her away - a few fingers to her shoulder pushes her back towards the mattress. Now she’s laid out before him like so many times before - her open mouth and flush cheeks saying more than she has all day.

He leans down to try to seductively remove her trousers, wants to try to have a semblance of lasting foreplay. Ethan wants her to be ready. Sure. Confident that it’s the right time. Becca wiggles with splendid impatience that has his devious smirk broadening. He peels the skin-tight pants off her legs and admires his woman.

She’s in the most remarkable unremarkably mismatched lingerie - a horrendously lime green everyday bra and blue cotton panties.

It’s his favorite sight to behold.

Then her hands are reaching for him, opening and closing like a toddler reaching for a parent.

For a moment Ethan falters.

For a moment he’s forced to remember why this time is special.

Why he needs to be careful.

That even though she hasn’t talked about it, it’s a heart wound that may never heal.

Ethan swallows back the emotion that begins to build in his throat. The leftovers of which manifest in the glaze of his eyes. Mixes with every ounce of love for his beholder.

He’s resigned to believe he’s made peace with what’s happened weeks ago. It wasn’t his place to get involved more so than as a supportive partner. He didn’t have a right to make any part of this about him. It may have been his baby but it wasn’t his body, his life on the line. He’d take a thousand more weeks like that one if it meant keeping Becca by his side.

Ethan laces his fingers through hers, uses her as an anchor to bring them closer together until their clasped hands are pressed into the mattress and he’s hovering above her. Until mandarin oranges and peony are in his nostrils. The smell of her mixed with the sweetness of sex starting to transpire on her skin. Until one of her legs hooks around his and pulls him closer.

It’s a tender kiss with soft lips. Another to her jaw. To the other side. Peppers of pecks down her neck. His hands follow to free her breasts, tongue swirling around one nipple while the other is teased by the tips of his fingers. It’s the switches when she groans, perfect lustful reverberations. Then she’s wiggling more seeking friction between her legs, grinding against what she can get from his thigh.

Ethan can’t help but oblige.

Lips trailblazing the plain of her body, hands following until fingers curl in the waistband. Tugs one side then the other down.

Becca lifts her hips eagerly.

The motion shouldn’t have stopped Ethan in his tracks.

But it did.

He has to take another moment to appreciate this sight. Her. His Madonna. His siren. The love of his life. The woman who far surpasses any of his wildest dreams.

His partner.

She feels his intense gaze - his azure eyes weighted down with so much love. It makes her uncomfortable.

Bare and barren in front of him Becca throws her arms over her face.

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want the attention - didn’t want the cloud of despair that hangs over her every moment of the day to rain on this one bit of normalcy. She wanted to get back to the way they were. Wanted to get so intoxicated on him that she didn’t feel anything anymore.

She wanted to go back to before.

Ethan catches the shift. His hands are rubbing up and down her thighs comfortingly, and Becca feels one side of the bed dip below her hips.

The air is filled with terminal understanding.

His fingers are still grazing her upper thighs, to her hip bone, through her tuft to the other side and around again. Drawing a parallelogram around her most sensitive area. Sparking sensations she hasn’t felt in months and desensitizing her all the same.

Becca peeks out from her hiding place. Even in the dampened glow of Boston through the windows, she can see him so clearly. His eyes so dark and large, inviting and questioning.

She forces a half smile.

He responds with a kiss to her lips with every ounce of understanding he has to offer.

His smiles matches her own when he receives a roll of her hips as his forefinger grazes the crease of her legs. Then he gets a moan of encouragement. She parts for him and his finger meets her labia, sticking out like always. He gives it the attention it deserves then dipping further into her folds. Wet and biologically ready.

Further up he circles her clit and the little groan she makes is music to his ears. It’s a groan of pure satisfaction. Deep and pleasurable. Ethan looks over and Becca's eyes are shut once more. Enjoyably light and without creases. Like she’s lost in his touch. Her hands twirling in the sheets in anticipation for what’s to come.

Ethan shifts. Swift movements down the bed to kneel between her legs. She smells sweet and a little like chlorine and undoubtedly like sex and they have barely started yet. It settles deep in his abdomen, his cock twitches.

He wants to keep going.

He will keep going.

He’ll worship her and bring her to ecstasy multiple times.

But, before he does anything else, he leans over.

He leans over to place a delicate everlasting kiss to the inner area of her pubic bone. To the area she’s clutched and cried out in pain over. A quick recognition of what was, has been.

They’ll never forget.

But they’ll move on.

They’ll make it better, together.

__________________________

a/n: woowee this was a doozy. can you see what i mean by i didn’t edit and just sent it off into the void? this was also my first attempt at smut so i hope it wasn’t cringe-central 🤞

thank you for reading ♥

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

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runwithwolvcs · 3 years

Text

You Know I'm No Good - ten

you matter to me

Warnings: Drinking/drug use, Arguing, implying sexua! assau!t/tendencies

Authors Note: I have not added a tags list due to the trigger warnings, it will be back in the next update.

there are two types of tired i suppose

the one in need of dire sleep;

the other is a dire need of peace

Tallulah tried her best to fly under her family's radar leading up to Friday and she had her plan all set for her to go out to Port Angeles and still be home in time for her curfew. She had spending whatever time she wasn’t in school with Paul, helping him with little things around Uley's Bookstore, whether that be painting structures or filling shelves with books, Tallulah made sure on Thursday to tell him she would be hanging out with August and Rory on Friday so that if her dad asked him where she was he would be unknowingly involved in her lie.

After school on Friday, Tallulah quickly changed out of her school clothes into a striped, oversized crew neck and navy blue tennis skirt. Throwing her hair into a slicked back ponytail before rushing down the stairs, telling her dad she was off to see her friends, which wasn’t a lie, she just didn’t specify which ones.

Tallulah was practically shaking with excitement as she pulled out of her driveway, whether it be because she was excited to see her friends for the first time in 2 weeks or because she knew she wasn’t supposed to be seeing them, she was unsure of.

The drive to Port Angeles, Tally spent feeling unnerved. All the confidence had left her mind as she exited Forks. Something felt wrong. It’s not like she’s never snuck out and lied about her whereabouts before, the feeling felt different from the adrenaline that usually accompanied her. Out of the corner of her high she could see her phone light up, the incessant dinging of incoming text messages. She ignored them, telling herself it's because she knew better than to text and drive but mostly because she wasn’t prepared to read them. Had her plan already been ruined? Her phone ringing shook her from her thoughts, she grabbed it and checked the caller ID: Paul Lahote, its bright white letters. She wanted to let it ring, to just ignore him, but she couldn’t. Answering the phone and putting on her speakerphone, setting it on the passenger seat, she said as calmly as possible, “Hey, whats up?”, only to be met with an anger, “Where are you?”.

Tallulah was caught off guard by his tone of voice, she would have never expected it from him in the slightest.

“I’m just driving to August’s” she lied, she could hear someone telling Paul to calm down on the other end, with an angry laugh, he asked, “Oh yeah? Since when does she live off the rez?” before she could even respond, he continued, “Where are you really?”

“Why does it matter to you where I am?” she bit back, “Why does it matter?” he repeated her question, “Because you matter to me, Tallulah!” he all but yelled into the phone before the sound of the phone being dropped rang out into her silent car. She could hear the background commotion, but nothing was coherent to her as she was still trying to process what he had said.

“Tallulah?” a feminine voice rang through, “It’s Emily. Where are you, sweetie?” she asked calmly despite the audible commotion that had just occurred on her end of the phone. She wanted to lie again. It’s what she really wanted, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. “Port Angeles,” Tallulah said quickly before reaching over and hitting the end call before Emily could ask any more questions knowing she wouldn’t be able to lie anymore.

Pulling into the parking lot of the club they were all meeting at, she could see her friends standing next to Xanders sleek black car that he had been gifted on his 16th birthday. She thought she would feel more excitement when seeing Lina, Kit and Xander for the first time in weeks but all she could feel was the ache in her chest, or maybe it was regret. Parking her car, Tallulah quickly got out, grabbing her bag and shoving her phone in it, the onslaught of text messages she had received remaining unread.

She could hear Linas squeals of excitement before both her feet had touched the ground and two pairs of arms wrapped her up in a group hug, “I’ve missed you guys so much” she said as Kit and Lina let her free, big grins on all three girls faces.

“What about me?” a deep voice teased, she looked over to see Xander leaning against his car, smirking at her.

“Of course I missed you, just not as much as them.” she joked, making her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug before kissing his cheek as she let him go. “You’re a lot harder to replace than I thought you would be.”Tallulah said, earning her a scoff from him, “You would never want to replace me.” Xander spoke in all seriousness, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Everything was just like she left it, and she loved that. The group of friends got into the building no problem, the perks of looking older than you are, Tallulah thought to herself.

Lina and Kit went to get drinks for everyone while Xander and Tallulah found an empty booth, his arm never leaving her shoulders. They sat beside each other in the booth and she looked up towards him as he said, “I have something for you.”

She furrowed her brows, she could barely remember the last time he had given her something that wasn’t a holiday or a birthday, “You did?” she asked to which he nodded his head, digging into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a slick, thin grey rectangle. “Li said you dad tossed yours. Hide it better this time, yeah.” tallulah nodded her head in agreement before taking it from his hand, but if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t feel the need to have one anymore. She had no cravings for it, and no stressors that made her even want to use it, it would just end up collecting dust somewhere in her room until she could find an excuse to use it.

“I missed you too, y’know.” he said with a toothy grin, “Nothings been the same without you.” Tallulah smiled at that,glad to know her friends weren’t doing better than she was with the sudden change.

Lina and Kit found their table, four drinks with them, placing one in front of Xander and one in front of Tallulah, “In celebration of the crew being back together,”Lina said with a big smile on her face. Tallulah knew she shouldn’t drink considering she was driving but sipping the crisp alcohol would at least keep her friends off her case, so that's what she did for the next thirty minutes as they all caught up.

Before she knew it, Kit was pulling out onto the dance floor to dance with her and anyone else they could find. The music was loud and the adrenaline was pumping. She felt hands on her waist as someone came up behind her, her hips swaying with the music, she turned her body towards the person holding her firmly, turning to see Xander, she smiled brightly wrapping her arms around his neck, he bent his head down and said in to her ear, over the loud music, “You should come back with us tonight, you can crash at my place.”

Tallulah shook her head, “My dad would literally kill me, Xan.” he laughed nonchalantly, and she became very aware of how close their bodies were, “It’ll be fine, Luie, live a little. I really want you to.” he wanted her to, she thought to herself, looking up at him. He never tells her what he wants, he just does it. “I can't,” she said while standing on her tippy toes to say it into his ear, before she could flatten her feet he had turned his head and pressed his lips to hers, in a rushed, sloppy kiss. Much like the ones they had shared many times before. He pulled away first, “Xan, that's not gonna change my mind.”

He pouted like a little kid about to throw a tantrum, “But I’ve missed you so much and we don’t even know when we will be able to see each other again” he rationed to her, and Tallulah just shook her head, it’s not that she didn’t want to, it's just that this is how they always were together. One minute all over each other they next not speaking, “I haven’t even heard from you in the past two weeks besides that one phone call”

Xander rolled his eyes at her statement, “I can’t spend every waking moment talking to you, Luie, just relax,” he said. Before she could even respond his lips were on hers again, but all she could think about was how cold he felt. Not abnormally cold, just cold. It was uncomfortable.

Pulling back, she said, “We should go find the others,” to which Xander shook his head, “Come on, I haven’t seen you for weeks,” his hands were firm on her arms holding her in place as he leaned in again. Turning her head, his lips connected with her cheek. Now he was pulling back, taking a deep breath, trying not to lose his cool with her, “Really, Luie, you’re doing this again?”

“Doing what again? Is it such a crime that I don’t want to makeout with you in some dinghy club?” she asked him, annoyance laced in her tone. He shook his head, his shaggy hair falling in front of his face, “You always do this!” he exclaimed, “You can’t just act the way you have been all night, and then turn around and say never mind.”

Tallulah looked at him like he was out of his mind, “Yes, I can, Xan. And I am.” she said, standing her ground with him. “But Luie,” That fucking nickname, she thought to herself, “We don’t know when the next time we will see eachother is,” He used the same excuse as before. His hand was now on her lower back, holding her flush against him, “Stop, Xan.'' She tried to push him away, but with the awkward angle of her arms she found it hard. “You’ve always liked this, Luie,”he whispered in her ear, his lips brushed up against it as he spoke, “Get off!” she shoved at him, and before she knew it, he was being yanked away from her. Taking a few steps back to steady herself, she didn’t recognize the boy who had pulled Xander and as he took a step towards her, asking her if she was okay, she took a step back. Blood was pounding in her ears, lookin at Xanders retreating figure, no doubt going to find Lina.

A hand rested on her shoulder, the comforting warmth of it gave away who it was before she had even turned to look at him. Paul. Once she had turned to him she wrapped her arms around his waist, wanting nothing more than to feel the safety of the heat emitting off him. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.” She spoke quickly, and shakily. His arms encircled her, one on her back, the other in her hair, holding her head to his chest, holding her to him, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” he murmured to her softly.

“Embry, you take my car. I’ll drive her home.” Tallulah heard Paul saying, not lifting her head away from his chest. Embry. That must’ve been the boy's name who had pulled Xander away from her. She twisted her head and gave him a grateful smile as Paul gave him his keys before looking up at Paul, who was looking down at her. She could see the worry lines near his eyes and wanted nothing more than to smooth them out with the pads of her fingers. “Alright, let’s go.” his tone was serious, and she knew he was mad at her but trying really hard not to let it show given the circumstances.

“I need to tell my friends.” she spoke to him as if she was walking on thin ice, which she was.

“That guy-” Tallulah cut him off before he could finish what he was saying, “Not him, Lina and Kit..” she reassured as she let go of him, but he held onto her hand tightly, not wanting her to get lost in the sea of people.

It wasn’t hard to find Lina, who was subsequently also looking for Tallulah, “Hey! What happened with Xan, he stormed…” Lina trailed off, one look at Tallulah's face and she didn't need to put into words what had happened. She has seen this look on her best friend before. Like she’s just woken up from a terrible nightmare.“I’m going to head home, Li.” Tally spoke softly, she watched as Lina looked Paul up and down, trying to decide if Tal should go with him, “He’s cool, I promise.” she said while letting go of Paul's hand to wrap her best friend in a hug, “Call me when you get back to Seattle.” she said, before allowing Paul to lead her out of the dark club. She held onto his hand tightly, only letting go once they had reached her car, handing him the keys they both got in silently.

Tallulah only spoke up once they had left the parking lot and were heading towards the highway back to LaPush, “How did you know where to find me?” she asked softly, pulling her sleeves down over the palms of her hands.

“It’s a long story,” he said stoically. Tally furrowed her brows at his response, not satisfied with it at all, “We’ve got time.” she said looking at him, watching his face as he focused on the road.

“Well for one, there's only a few clubs in Port Angeles that allow minors to waltz through their doors.” he said angrily, but it didn’t feel like it was directed at her. “Please, don’t do this again, Tal.” he said looking directly at her, causing her to look away.

“I just wanted to see my friends.” she mumbled, looking down at her lap.

“You could’ve gotten hurt and no one would’ve known where you were because you told everyone you were somewhere that you weren’t.”he said, she could tell he was trying to keep his volume in check. To not yell at her like he had earlier in the evening.

“I was fine..” she pressed, which in her head, she was fine.

“Fine? You were fine?” he laughed. He really laughed, “That kid could've hurt you if Embry hadn’t gotten to you.”

Tallulah shook her head, tears pricking at her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, only children cry and she was not a child. “Xander wouldn’t have. I would’ve handled it, I always handle it.” she stressed, chewing the inside of her cheek as if it would keep her tears at bay.

It was obvious Paul was out of his depth here, so he let go of the steering wheel with his right hand, placing it in her lap. Letting her make the decision if she wanted to hold it or not, and she did. He had two small hands on either side of his large one, fingers clasped between. “You matter to me too, you know.” she said quietly, his voice from earlier in the evening replaying over in her head as it did all night long. He squeezed her hand as a response, letting the soft music from the radio takeover the silence between them.

#tw sex assault #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight wolves #chapter 10

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goggles-mcgee · 3 years

Text

Too Late: Adrien (Commission for miner249er)

Chapter 5 of the commission for @miner249er !

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The Seine became a comfort spot for Adrien after everything happened, his original comfort spot had been the top of the Eiffel Tower but with his ring gone, that wasn’t an option. Actually many places weren’t on his list of options any more due to his ring being gone and due to his identity as both Adrien Agreste: Teen Model and Heart Throb, as well as Adrien Agreste: Possible Accomplice to Hawkmoth and Mayura, and the possible face behind the cat mask, Chat Noir, became “known” after the whole Protector incident. Paris’s last akuma, and Adrien’s last normal day, last peaceful moment. He had been naïve before and hadn't even known it. He had tried too hard to get past the rose-tinted glasses his father basically prescribed he wore everyday and when he thought he had gotten rid of those he was too blind to notice the rose-tinted contact lenses he himself put in willingly every day after.

But those contacts had been dried and ripped and tossed in the trash. Now he couldn’t even take a simple walk without wearing a wig, clothes he never considered wearing before and some he knew his father wouldn’t approve of so there were some silver linings, and he would slightly contour his face and thank his old makeup artists for teaching him some makeup skills he could do himself. Plus it helped that he had been doing research on cosplaying and what it took to look like other people, tip number one was contouring your face, and that’s just what he did when he wanted to leave the house and have some alone time. True alone time, not supervised alone time with Simon, aka Gorilla, and not alone time at a distance with his mom, which he was so grateful to have back, but with the rumors surrounding his father and Nathalie and the way she came back on live TV, their alone time happened together.

It was wonderful to have his mother back, but it did not dull his pain. Not even her hugs or her kisses or her sweet words could pull him from the edge of his guilt-ridden thoughts. Every day, every damn day, he would think how this all was his fault. Maybe if he had been a better son, a better model, a better something, maybe his father wouldn’t have abused the Butterfly Miraculous the way he did. Maybe Gabriel, because even Adrien had to admit that the man was severely lacking in that department and had in a very long time, would have trusted him and told him what was going on. Then, perhaps, Adrien could have convinced his Father not to get Nathalie involved and to maybe let Ladybug help or even the Guardian. If Gabriel had just let his son in like Adrien had craved for so long, then maybe all this pain and anger wouldn’t be bleeding out of each and every pore of everyone in Paris.

Maybe then the Protector wouldn’t have had to...well, protect like she felt she had to. Adrien had never thought Marinette to be a scary girl, in fact, ‘Marinette’ and ‘scary’ in the same sentence seemed like something out of a parallel universe if anything. In his memories, because that’s all he had left of the girl, those and a broken arm and finger, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had always been happy and sweet and determined and so much more. Or, that was what he thought, that’s all he observed. He never took her sorrow or hurt seriously and it was that thought that had been plaguing him night and day ever since she went missing.

Her disappearance wasn’t the only ‘big’ thing that had happened in the honestly short amount of time he and his class encountered The Protector, he refused to call that akuma Marinette, there was just no way she thought of him and their classmates like that. There was no way. The only conclusion he could come to was that Gabriel had more control over the akuma than usual. Maybe even twisted her feelings into something darker. It has happened before...he’s sure of it. From what he knows about the Butterfly Miraculous, which was really not a lot even with his small crash course with Master Fu after he tried to make sense of everything, the Butterfly can enhance emotions. Who’s to say that he couldn’t twist those emotions? I mean...even Master Fu said he was tainting the Miraculous in ways that even he couldn’t predict. Maybe all that misuse could have changed it.

This could have been avoided . Was another constant thought that hung before him seemingly as a reminder. This should have been avoided.

Anger, no fury, overtook him but he managed to not let it out in a scream, or worse physically on something. He no longer had his usual outlet when his emotions got too big or too much, so he did the only thing he could remember his father teaching him. Mask it. Hide it all beneath a mask of indifference. Before he had hated it, hated the way Gabriel had sounded almost proud of the lesson he was giving his son, like it was one of his single most important pieces of fatherly advice he could bestow upon Adrien. Now though? Now it actually came in handy and Adrien loathed it, everything about it, but if he made a scene out in the open, it wouldn’t matter if he had a disguise on or not. People would stare, people would talk, people would try to help and he just could not handle any of that.

“We could all use you right now M’Lady…” He muttered to the air and himself, a part of him hoping that in some way the message would reach the girl he was thinking of.

That was another thing that was bringing him migraines if he thought too much about it, which he did, constantly. He didn’t just have to come to terms with the fact that one of his best friends had gotten akumatized and promptly went missing after said akumatization, or the fact Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur were basically determined to be the villains Hawkmoth and Mayura by public opinion and “coincidences” that looked an awful lot like proof, there was also the fact his mother literally rose from the grave...or from her coma that Adrien had no idea about, but to top everything off was the very real fact that Protector, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Multimouse, was actually Paris’s beloved heroine Ladybug. His mind was still trying to make it make sense. To make it all make sense. But it was that last bit that was still throwing him for a loop.

He just couldn’t seem to fuse the identities together. Both girls held importance in his life, just in different ways. There were so many memories that were thrown at him that were practically begging him to see, see how the two were actually one and the same. There was just this other part of him that refused to see it, refused to acknowledge it, because, and it was a bit embarrassing to admit even to just himself, he was mad that he had declared that he would know Ladybug anywhere. Adrien had even convinced himself that he would absolutely be able to know who she was beneath the mask if he had just seen her. Turns out he had seen her out of the mask more often than in and it hurt.

To make matters worse, if anything could even be worse , he bitterly thought as he kicked a stray stone, he was pretty sure his class knew or at least suspected he was Chat Noir after their shared Protector experience. Yet none of them said anything, there were no new rumors floating about, there were no news coverage about him in particular other than how Paris was sending his mother and him their prayers, others were not as nice and speculated they were both involved in his villainy. The biggest thing though was that no one was reaching out to him to talk about what happened, to talk about his injury and the fact that the akuma took his ring so openly in front of people, they reached out...just not for any of that. They gave their sympathy, their curiosity, their anger, but none of them asked him about being Chat Noir and it was killing him having to wait for the other shoe to drop.

If it even drops.

Adrien sighed harshly and burrowed deeper into the hoodie he had slipped on before he had snuck out of his house. While aimlessly walking he spotted a bench and promptly slumped onto it. One hand idly picked at the chipped paint of the bench while the other clutched his hoodie above his heart. It hurt. It hurt enough to make him cry and well, he was alone so why not just cry? The guilt, the shame, the anger, the loneliness, all of it had turned into some blob of a creature that took hold of his heart and squeezed. He had to close his eyes, he didn’t know why, but it felt like it was one of the only ways to get comfort. Again, he was proved wrong as he began to remember The Day of The Last Akuma as all of Paris had taken to calling it, Adrien referred to it as the day he failed Marinette.

________________________________________

Adrien winced as Marinette had taken hold of both his hands in hers, the gesture would have been sweet if it weren’t for the pressure. “ Save it. I don’t want your superficial pity. You Adrien Agreste are the biggest liar I know next to Lila. You knew she was lying. You knew she was lying from the start seeing how Ladybug told you herself that Lila and her were not friends. Oh yeah I know about that, in the park, or how about when Lila was akumatized to be the Chameleon, which by the way Lila very unoriginal and I’m fairly certain you were akumatized on purpose but hey what proof do I have right? And she pretended to be you because she didn’t like what you had to say about her lying. Yet you still didn’t tell your so called friends about her, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself! I learned that the hard way. I believed you when you said we were in this together and that if we both knew then that was enough and that we should take the moral highroad. What a joke ! I am truly disgusted with myself for ever thinking I was in love with you. ”

His hands hurt but that was nothing compared to his heart when Marinette had finished her speech, but the hurt was outweighed by his confusion. Looking around he could tell that their classmates were not expecting Marinette’s words to him. Some were probably still reeling from her harsh words about them but all eyes were on him and Marinette, and they were wide, whether it be in hurt, horror, shock, or all of the above. It seemed like the stares didn’t bother Marinette in the least, but they sure were getting to Adrien. “ W-What? You love me? ”

The hollow laugh he had gotten in reply was like a stab to the heart, he could feel Plagg scratching at his shirt from inside his white overshirt, he knew he had to get out of there so he could transform but Marinette still had a grip on him. “ Men. Of course that’s the only thing you focus on. If you actually listened to me and were a decent human being for once in your pathetic sad model life, you would have noticed that I said, was . I was in love with you, but after everything? You’re nothing but an obstacle in my way. ”

“ Mari please- ,” Adrien tried to reason with her as he tugged at his hands gently to see if there was any slack, again he winced in pain when Marinette tightened her hold, her gaze never wavering from him. The fury in her eyes could practically melt him.

“ That is not my name! If I did go by that name again you would not get to call me that anyways, nicknames are a privilege, they are shared between friends. Last I checked, we’re not friends, maybe we never were to begin with, and that goes for all of you too! ” Marinette hissed out sharply as she finally tore her gaze away from Adrien and looked at their classmates, their friends. It was the first time since this whole situation started that Adrien felt he could breathe despite the fact his hands were in an iron-clad like clutch. He didn’t have the heart to look in the eyes of everyone to see how they took Marinette’s words.

“ Marinette, this isn’t you! You need to fight the akuma, it’s making you say these things I know it is! But if you just calm down and fight it I know Ladybug and Chat Noir will be here to save the day. ” Adrien rambled away, and if he had been paying attention, he would have seen the way Marinette’s spine had straightened, how the atmosphere and temperature felt like it had dropped, and the way her calm fury took a turn. No he missed that all in favor of trying to see if one of his friends would agree with him and help him calm Marinette down long enough for him to sneak out and transform so Chat Noir could heroically swoop in to save the day.

“ Did he say akuma? ” He heard Rose semi-whisper to Juleka who merely nodded in confusion.

“ Marinette doesn’t look like an akuma though …” Nathaniel mumbled meekly.

“ Have you sheep learned nothing? There is more to people than what meets the eye.” Marinette sing-songed, and it was brief, so painfully brief but enough to draw scared gasps from everyone in the class, Marinette’s eyes had flashed from their normal cheerful blue to a darker almost violet color and the whites of her eyes turned purple. Everyone scurried back, even Mlle Bustier, all except Adrien who was still caught in her grip near the doorway that they were now blocking, and Lila who was just staring at Marinette in interest and poorly acted out fear from her seat that used to be Marinette’s. Everyone was calling out to her and telling her to run to them but the girl continued to sit there “frozen” in fear. “ And it seems like you are finally opening yours. ”

“ Oh Marinette how did this happen to you? I thought you were better than this? To get akumatized over me and showing everyone your true nature! Don’t worry guys my best friend Ladybug will be here soon to rescue us. ” Lila gushed out, not catching the wary glances that some were giving her.

“ Oh Delilah, do shut up. ” Marinette harshly mocked in response, Lila looked as though she had been smacked, everyone else was confused, Adrien included. “ What? Oh you guys didn’t know? Liar Rossi’s real name is Delilah, so let’s add that to the growing list of wrongdoings of one Delilah ‘Lila’ Rossi .”

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief when Marinette released his left arm, only to freeze when he felt her grab his right forearm with one hand, and his right hand with the other. Her fingers were so close to his ring, his heart was racing and he could feel Plagg stiffen in panic as well. “ Stop. Marinette. I’m begging you. This isn’t the way to deal with things, this will only make everything worse! ”

Marinette’s attention was torn from Lila to him and Adrien felt like he couldn’t breathe, he was sweating, and he felt like anything he did or said next would give him away as Chat Noir but he had to do something. Master Fu trusted him with this. Ladybug probably trusted him with this too, sure Fu hadn’t told him why she was gone but maybe this was a test or something? Maybe this wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Hopefully this wasn’t as serious as Fu made it out to be, because if it was he was not doing good. At all. “ Worse? No Agreste, I’m making things better. I’m protecting the people of Paris one last time from all of you, but especially from Rossi. Her lies harm people, her very being brings harm upon anyone she meets, and will continue to do so if someone doesn’t stop her. If someone doesn’t protect them from her. Since you couldn’t have a spine and keep one simple promise to be in this together with me, I have become what I needed to be and what Paris temporarily needs me to be just for today. I am its protector, I am The Protector.”

The pressure around his arm increased and he could do nothing but gasp in pain and try to pull away even as he was forced on his knees due to the pain. It was at this point that Lila got up and edged back, seeming to finally understand the danger she was in. The danger she unleashed. Marinette, no, the akuma, the Protector didn’t even spare her a glance as she added more and more pressure. The pain had distracted him from what she was doing at the same time, taking his ring. He hadn’t even noticed when finally a SNAP! rung out in the classroom and a scream could be heard. It took him a while to realize it was his own till he was cradling his limp arm to his chest and crying. He could hear the others shouting and screaming, he couldn’t see their faces through his tears. “ Here’s another lie Delilah told, and it’s fairly recent, but Ladybug and Chat Noir will not be coming to the rescue this time.”

Adrien tried to pull himself together when he no longer felt the weight of his ring, a thought struck him and it only strengthened his resolve to pull himself together despite the pain. There was no doubt that The Protector took his ring, he just hoped his classmates were more focused on his arm breaking than the ring being taken since he was almost certain that the akuma was doing nothing to hide what she took. Which meant if the class wasn’t looking at him they possibly saw Plagg being sucked back into the ring. He heard more than saw the gasps and the panic that followed, but what confused him was the sound of glass breaking-a window most likely-and the presence of the akuma leaving from beside him. He felt people swarm him and ask him questions but all he could focus on was the pain.

________________________________________

He wiped the tears that the memory brought and stood back up to resume his walk. Eventually he found himself at the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie and he just had to go inside, he had to apologize to Tom and Sabine, he had to. It was his fault their daughter was missing. So he took in a deep breath and made his way up to their apartment, it took him longer to gather courage to knock but he did eventually do that. When the door was opened, the pit of guilt in stomach grew at the sight of Tom Dupain who looked like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest in weeks, nor had he taken the time shave, his beard taking Adrien back to when he had been akumatized into Papa Garou. Beside him, the always put-together Sabine Cheng had bags under her eyes, she was wearing what was obviously one of Tom’s t-shirts and it looked like she hadn’t brushed her hair that morning. He took one look at them and broke down in a fresh wave of tears.

“I’m so sorry!”

Next Chapter

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sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

Text

pandemic overload

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 2,136

summary: You need an escape from everything, and Bucky is more than happy to give it to you.

warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF. Bad words. Bucky does think a naughty thing or two lol

a/n: Thank you so much to @marylizabetha for this commission!!!! I had so much fun with it, and honestly it was nice to get to write about escaping all of this nonsense for a little bit!!!!

He saw it when he came home from grocery shopping. The quiver of your bottom lip. He’d only been gone for about two hours—shopping for groceries for a super soldier can take a while, after all—but even so, it had made you anxious. Everything about the last seven months or so made you anxious. And he couldn’t blame you. People were dying and it was just… frustrating how so many people didn’t seem to care. At all.

Bucky had been the only one to leave the town house you two shared in that entire time, unless you counted the times you’d sit out on the front stoop and work on a Sudoku puzzle. But that was a decision you had made very early on. He was a super soldier that couldn’t get sick. You were just a normal human.

It didn’t mean that you weren’t scared for him every time he walked outside.

Thankfully, it hadn’t taken much to convince you to stay home, even though you had to quit your job. It wasn’t exactly the most… important thing in the world. It wasn’t even in your field of interest. Just a pit stop until you could put your degree to use.

But it looked like that wouldn’t be happening for a little while longer.

Technically, with how much money Bucky made from being a non-active Avenger on top of back pay from being a prisoner of war for seventy years or so and also being on an elite strike force during World War II, you would never have to work a day in your life if you didn’t want. And, to be perfectly honest, a big part of you was seriously considering it. It was nice to be able to sit around and do whatever you wanted to do. You and Bucky helped each other with all the chores and such, but then you had an otherwise empty day to fill. You’d taken up knitting and learning to play piano and yes, you did join in on that trend of people learning how to make sourdough bread from scratch. You two had also gotten to up the amount of time you spent trying to make a positive change in the world, and you’d taken Bucky to his first twenty-first century protest. Not a single cop had dared to fuck with you or anyone else with the former Winter Soldier by your side.

The perks of having a super intimidating boyfriend, right?

It would be completely perfect if it wasn’t for the fact that you had to stay because otherwise you might get sick.

But you were actually considering choosing to just… continue not working once all of it was over. You and Bucky could do anything you wanted to do. You could travel the world, maybe eventually adopt a few kids… The possibilities were endless, especially since your boyfriend had surprised you by paying off all your student loans in one fell swoop.

Yeah, that… that had brought on more than a few tears.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile over at you as he put away the groceries, calling out everything to you. You were sitting up on the counter, pretty as a picture, with your legs swinging back and forth as you put in everything he’d bought to that fancy app on your phone that took everything you had in your fridge and gave you a list of recipes you could make from it.

Last week the two of you had gotten your favorite recipe so far, grilled mahi mahi tacos with a sweet pineapple salsa that served a bit of a kick at the end.

Fish so nice, they named it twice.

Bucky’s pandemic hobby had become cooking. A lot of the time, you two just ordered food in, which was a horrible habit. But you couldn’t help it. You both were so busy and neither of you really had the energy or patience to cook most of the time.

But spending everyday at home meant that Bucky finally had time to learn how to do something other than boil food, and he was actually pretty good at it.

“Baby doll, let’s go on a date.”

You looked up from your phone in surprise. “A… A date? Bucky Bear… I hate to break it to you, but… We can’t exactly go anywhere,” you said with a weak laugh. As good as it was to be able to sit at home and work on your hobbies, you were often overwhelmed with the thoughts about how so many people were suffering because of how selfish others were.

He put the last bell pepper away in the fridge before moving to stand between your legs, his hands running over your thighs. “Now that’s not true, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed sweet kisses along your jawline. “I wanna take you somewhere special, okay? We haven’t gotten to dress up in a long time… So how about you get your cute ass in the shower and get yourself all dolled up, yeah? I wanna treat my girl.”

Ugh. He always knew exactly what to say to make you melt.

“Okay,” you giggled, nuzzling your nose against his. But you took your own sweet time getting off the counter, choosing instead to wrap your legs around him and pull him in for an impromptu makeout session.

What can you say? Your man was hot as fuck and a good ass kisser.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his hands roaming down your sides to your ass. He gave a playful squeeze before slowly breaking the kiss, letting it linger far longer than what would be considered necessary. “But you have to go shower and get ready, baby girl. I gotta jump in one, too. I wanna be nice and fresh for my girl. Now go on.”

A purse of your lower lip. “You don’t wanna join me?”

“Now, that’s not what I said, you little minx,” he said, tickling your sides and sending you into a fit of giggles. “But if I get in with you, we aren’t gonna make it out for a long, long time. And then you won’t get your surprise.”

“Fine, fine,” you groaned, pushing against his chest so you could slide off the counter. “Bossy.” You shot him a wink as you headed upstairs, and he can’t help but stare at your ass.

God bless the quarantine weight you’d gained.

Granted, he always loved your body—if you like the girl, you’re gonna like her body, after all—but he was still a hot-blooded man with a thing for grabbing you and loving every inch of you.

He quickly put together a basket of food, various meats and cheeses and little things like olives, and set a blanket on top of it before running upstairs to grab a shower in the guest bath. He knew the perfect place to take you to escape the city and the suffocating threat of the pandemic.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going or not, Sarge?” You asked as you appeared in the doorway.

He looked up from where he sat at the kitchen island, and the breath was knocked straight from his lungs. Thank god he’d already stowed the basket and blanket away in the trunk, because he would’ve completely forgotten at the sight of you. “Holy shit, sugar…,” he whispered as he got up. He moved towards you, strong hands grabbing your hips and pulling you into a kiss. He knew he had to be careful about grabbing your face, not wanting to mess up the makeup you’d just put on for the first time in months. But you’d also learned not to wear a lip product that would smear on your first date, so you both had rules about makeup now.

The fabric of your yellow sundress rested against your skin so gently, and he would be ashamed to admit that for just a second, he was jealous of a piece of clothing. He wanted to be that close to you always, wanted to feel your skin and draw little shapes over your heart.

Maybe he’d strip it off of you the second he got you to the spot, just so he could rest his head in the valley of your breasts and listen to the steady beating of your heart. You knew that he could hear it even just standing beside you, but you wouldn’t call him out on it.

TLC played on the radio the entire drive, his hand on your thigh except for when he needed to shift gears. Out of all the decades of music you were working to catch him up on, the nineties were your favorite.

Not that he’d ever disagree. No. Not when he got to watch you with one arm out the window, your hand making waves in the wind as you sang at the top of your lungs.

Just being out of the house for less than an hour was doing you so much good.

“Bucky, you aren’t going to kill me, right?” You asked with a laugh as he parked the car in a small lot at the entrance of a trail. “Because I really figured you would’ve done that by now, you know.”

“Nah, baby,” he said as he popped the trunk, smirking at the surprised look on your face at the sight of the basket. The trunk closed with a slam as he tossed you the blanket, moving to your side and holding your free hand in his before leading you down the trail. “If I wanted to murder you, I’d have done it by now. Besides, you’re too pretty to kill. I’d miss looking at you everyday.”

“You’re an absolute cheese ball,” you laughed, nudging his hip with yours. Not that it actually did anything.

Ah, the disadvantages you had when it came to play fighting with your super soldier boyfriend. Poor you.

The trail was absolutely stunning, full of wildlife and color. The shade the trees provided was a nice reprieve to the mid-August heat, the sunlight filtering through the leaves to dapple against your cheeks.

It was about a fifteen minute walk to the Wallkill River, and you heard the rush of the water long before you get there.

“We aren’t going swimming right?” You asked, eyeing him skeptically. “Because I just washed my hair.”

“No,” he said, amusement lacing his tone. “We’re not swimming. Just having a late lunch.” He sets down the basket and takes the blanket from you, laying it out on the small clearing on the bank. He took his time setting up the charcuterie board, the bottle of wine, and the two pillows that he stuffed in the basket for you two to rest against. “There. Now it’s perfect,” he said as he held his hand out to you to help you sit down on the blanket. “Worthy of my princess.”

A familiar roll of your eyes as he pressed sweet kisses to your cheeks, just like he did anytime he doted on you. He only ever called you princess when he got all lovey dovey like this.

Not that you’d ever complain.

“So what’s all this for?” You asked. Unable to stop your fit of giggles, you teetered to the side as the force of his cheek kisses grew and he made more and more obnoxious noises with it, his metal hand hooked around your waist. “Bucky Bear…”

“Okay, okay,” he relented, leaving one last, noisy kiss to your cheek before sitting up straight. He didn’t answer you right away, choosing instead to grab the wine and pop it open, pouring you each a glass. He was always the designated driver, since alcohol didn’t affect him. He was silent until you had your glass in hand, and he raised his in a toast. “I want to celebrate us, and more specifically, you. The past seven or so months haven’t been easy, but you’ve been a champ through it all. And also, I think we’ve done pretty damn well on living together and being around each other almost 24/7, considering that we only moved in together in November,” he said. His startling blue eyes were so soft as he stared at you. “I just love you so much, and I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, my god,” you said, your eyes glassy as you shook your head. “Bucky, you can’t say things like that when I just did my makeup! You’re going to make me cry!” But you didn’t mind the tears as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, your glasses clinking together. “I love you, too. And there’s no one else I’d rather go through this with.”

“Together,” he said, his nose nudging against yours.

“Together,” you agreed.

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Doll Me Up (P.10)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Ten) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 3,025 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Nine || Part Eleven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago (cont.)…

Tony walked into the bedroom, drawing your attention away from the TV.

“Thank god,” you groaned pathetically, tossing the body pillow you had been curled up with over yourself onto the ground. “Please snuggle with me. I haven’t felt good.”

“I know. But are you going to vomit?” Tony questioned, coming over to the side of the bed.

You rolled over onto your side to face him and said, “I don’t think so. I don’t feel so sick. I’m just tired.”

“Cause you know I don’t do well with that. The vomiting.”

You groaned again, throwing the blanket over your head. You just wanted him to get into bed and hold you and stop the talking.

Tony patted your hip impatiently. “Alright, dramatic. Come on. Up, up, up.”

“I don’t want to get up!” you said from underneath the comforter.

“Princess.”

“I want you to lie down with me, daddy.”

“I will, promise. Cross my heart. But business first. And that involves you getting up out of the bed.”

You whined, “What business? You just got back from business.”

“Y/N, get up,” Tony told you firmly. You knew that tone; he was not playing around anymore.

Sighing dramatically, you tossed the comforter back, looking up at him pitifully. He beckoned you with two fingers and you did as he asked. You shivered against the loss of the heat from the blanket, especially since you were just in a lounge bra and underwear.

He held out a small box and you took it from him. Your breath caught reading the label, staring dumbly down at the pregnancy test.

“What’s this for…?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious. The nausea that you’re feeling?”

Oh no.

Your mind raced with all the times the two of you had had unprotected sex recently. He had asked for it, seeming really into it, and you had obliged, wanting to turn him on. You knew it was a possibility of course, pregnancy. But you figured that problem could be solved fairly easy if it arose.

“Y/N?” Tony asked, interrupting your thoughts.

You turned your gaze up from the box and licked your lips nervously. Slapping the box on your other hand, you said, “Right. Nausea… sex. Pee on it.”

“Yeah, I think that’s generally how it works,” Tony confirmed, a smirk tugging at his lips at your stammering. “I’ll be out here.”

Grabbing your phone to keep the time, you turned away from him and made your way to the master bathroom reluctantly.

The three minutes seemed to take forever, and your hand was shaking when you turned the test back over.

I I

Your hand was gripping the test so tightly your knuckles were white as you stared down at the result.

Tony walked into the bathroom and asked from behind you, “Are you alright?”

“It’s positive,” you said sounding far away from yourself.

Tony looked over your shoulder at the test and you saw him smile in the mirror. Your face screwed into confusion seeing he looked… happy.

Tossing the test onto the counter, you made to turn to him. “Hey, love, there’s pee on that—”

“Why are you happy?” you demanded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tony asked, giving you an incredulous look. His hands came to your waist and he smiled. “Look at that. Making steps together.”

“W…what?” you stammered.

Tony hushed you with a deep kiss and he said, “This is wonderful news, kitten.” You tried to pull away from his grasp but he held tight, his face falling slightly at your resistance. “Really. It’s wonderful. I’ve been hoping for it actually. I think it’s the next step.”

“Having a baby?” you asked in disbelief.

His face fell completely now, his grasp letting up on your waist, and he stated flatly, “You’re not happy.”

“No! No, I’m not! I don’t…” you started to say trailing off. “We didn’t even talk about this!”

“What’s there to talk about? Shit like this happens all the time. Do you know how many unplanned pregnancies there are? Luckily for us though, we are in an established relationship, financially stable, in a good area for schools,” Tony started saying, listing off the positives. He noticed the look on your face and his hands left your waist to come up and cup your face. “Hey… look at me.” You did and his fingers caressed your skin affectionately. “This is a good thing for us.” One of his hands came to rest on your abdomen and he said sincerely, “Really. I want this for us. We can still have our fun and whatnot, cause I sure as hell don’t want to ever give that up. But this is a good growth for us. We’ve got the means to have the best of both worlds. That’s what nannies are for. Right?”

He sounded sincere, joyful about the prospect. And he was looking at you, desperately waiting for you to agree with him. Could it be so bad?

“It better be an ugly nanny,” you finally said.

Tony burst out laughing and brought your forehead to his lips. “Of course. The homeliest.”

<><><>

“Why is the fish of the day not priced?” you muttered.

“That’s pretty normal, Y/N. You should know that,” Tony commented back as the waiter brought the bottle of wine over that he had ordered. He thanked him, as the waiter poured the first glass for him and placed the bottle gently on the table. “We need a couple minutes.”

“Well, I want it, but I don’t know how much it costs.”

“It doesn’t matter. Only the best for you,” Tony told you, giving you a tight-lipped smile. There was something malicious lurking there, but you smiled back weakly all the same.

Happy shifted in his seat and you turned your attention towards him. He caught your eye and you stared at him silently for an explanation. He shrugged at you and you held back a sigh. Apparently you were going to have to prod yourself.

“What’s wrong?” you asked Tony.

He did not look up from the menu.

“Tony!” you said and that caught his attention, you using his real name. You rarely did it. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, wagging his finger at you. “I’m not having this conversation right now in the middle of a restaurant. What we are going to do is eat, enjoy each other’s company for lunch, and then we can go back to the penthouse.” You were silent, watching him and his gaze snapped up from the menu to look at you. “I’m serious, Y/N. I’m not talking about it here. So, drop it.”

“Okay,” you told him, fingers tapping on your menu.

He finished off his glass of wine and picked the bottle up, refilling it. You stared at the glass wanting to taste it but knowing you could not. The waiter came back and took your orders.

Tony and Happy fell into a hushed, masked conversation about an e-mail that Happy had just received. You looked around, seeing what other patrons were doing. Your gaze fell on a couple that had their baby in a highchair. The father was keeping it entertained with small toys, no doubt using a goofy voice based on his expression. Soon you would need to request a highchair. How old was that child? Definitely not an infant but not a toddler. You wondered if it could walk yet. What were you going to do when your baby started going mobile? Just having to chase it down constantly? Would it be well behaved?

Suddenly, you noticed a fairly attractive man was watching you from a few tables over from the couple. He smirked when he noticed he had caught your eye and he winked. You furrowed your brow in annoyance at his boldness considering you were obviously out with one of the men at the table. At your cold response you watched his smile falter for a moment before he looked at the empty seat next to him. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him back at the table to find Tony and Happy watching you intently. Had they been trying to talk to you and you had not heard?

Tony shot a quick look at the guy before looking back at you and you realized they much have caught that exchange just now.

“He seems like a prick,” you said calmly, picking up your water and taking a long drink.

“That he does,” Tony replied. “Good thing you aren’t tempted by twenties anymore, huh?”

He took a large drink of his wine and you watched him warily.

There was definitely something off about him. But you were going to follow his rule and enjoy lunch, not prod. The way he was acting, you were going to heed his warning that he did not want to have whatever conversation the two of you were going to have out in public. But now all you could do was worry about what type of conversation that was going to be.

<><><>

Tony unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto the back of the couch as he walked by towards his bar. You followed him, kicking your heels off by the couch too. You stretched out your feet, relishing in the flat ground.

Tony smacked his lips after taking a sip of his bourbon – you noticed it was the bottle you had bought for him – as he walked back towards the couch, past you. He sat back, stretching out.

You came up beside him and sat down, trying to curl up into his side, tucking your feet underneath a pillow. He did not return your embrace, instead bringing his glass to his lips again and taking another drink. He was good and toasted now. He had had the entire bottle of wine to himself, minus a glass that Happy had, at lunch.

“Daddy, seriously. What’s wrong?” you asked him tired of going back and forth.

He ground his teeth for a few moments, and you worried he was not going to speak to you. But he shifted, a little away from you, which hurt more. “Uh, I don’t know. Just… I’ve got a million things running through my mind.”

“About?” you asked.

“About what type of plans you have rolling around in that beautiful – albeit, deceitful – little head of yours.”

Your heart skipped a beat hearing the sneer in his voice and you had a feeling where you knew this conversation was going and you hoped to god it was not.

“’Plans’?” you asked uncertainly.

He leveled you with a scathing look that made you stiffen beneath it. “Yeah, ‘plans’. Like, do you have one? A fully fledged one? Were you just going to sneak off one day while I was gone and go get an abortion? Or were you planning on asking for adoption near when the baby is due?”

Your stomach sunk hearing that. He was watching you closely and you knew you were not masking your shock at his questions.

“Hmm. You look surprised, princess, that I would be saying this. Or are you not surprised and that’s just shock that I know?”

“Pepper told you?” your voice cracked.

Tony gave a wry chortle. “Of course she did. I mean, she had some persuasion because Happy happened to overhear the conversation the two of you were slinking around about.” You inhaled; you knew he had, and he had acted like he had not. “Granted, she was kind of backed into a corner about it. But she wants to stay on the board, so why would she not want to stay on my good side? By telling me my wife is scheming behind my back?”

“I’m not scheming!” you said indignantly, trying to pull away from him. But his arm wrapped tightly around your back, pulling you roughly to him. His bourbon sloshed in his glass in his other hand.

“You want me to agree to either getting rid or giving our baby away, but you won’t talk to me about it. You went behind my back to do try to get someone else to do it for you!” Tony growled.

“Because you would get mad at me!” you told him, sounding pathetic more than anything.

“I’m more mad now, Y/N!” Tony shouted, causing you to jump. His fingers dug into your side as he continued on, “We talked about this. I told you why I thought it was a good thing and you seemed to agree. And I should emphasize the ‘seem’ because you apparently were already putting on an act then. I shouldn’t be surprised about that though because you are a damn good little actress, princess. And you fucking love pushing my buttons!” He yanked you closer and said, his breath hot, “Let me be very clear that this is not something to try to press my buttons about. I am not fucking around about that.”

You tried to pull away from him and his fingers dug in deeper, causing you to wince. “I wasn’t trying to press your buttons, daddy!” you whimpered.

“You could have fooled me! You’ve been nothing but misbehaving at every opportunity!”

You felt it boiling to the surface and you just blurted, “You’re going to leave me! I know you are!”

Tony’s face screwed up in confusion and you took the opportunity to unravel yourself from the lax he gave on his grip on you and pulled away to the other end of the couch. You were breathing quickly, staring at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

He leaned forward and you watched him like a hawk as he placed his glass down on the coffee table before coming back to sit straight, his gaze piercing.

With some difficulty he asked, “You really think I’m going to leave you?” All you gave was a slight shrug and he said, “Why?” Your lashes brushed your cheek as you looked down and Tony pressed with more force, “Why? Answer me.”

It was hard to admit to him about your insecurity and you word vomited, “I don’t want to be a mum! That’s so much responsibility!”

Tony sighed, “You don’t have to shoulder all of it. What made you think you had to?”

“I… I am the mum. I have to. It’s on me.” You knew that was a lie. You had seen that father in the restaurant today doing just fine while the mum was scrolling through her phone, writing things down in a notebook.

“Kitten, come on. We talked about a nanny. You think I don’t want to take trips with you still, childfree?” He leaned in and said firmly, “But that’s not why you think I’m going to leave you, is it?” You stared down at the couch, picking at the fabric and he demanded, “Kitten.”

Pepper had told him; she must have told him everything. And he wanted to hear it from your lips.

In a voice barely above a whisper, you said still not looking up at him, “I’m not going to be the same. My stomach is gonna get really big and I’m gonna get stretch marks. My boobs will sag if I breastfeed…”

Tony was quiet for a few moments before he said, “Your body will be fine. Bodies change. But if you feel insecure we can talk about surgery.”

You looked up now, your brow pinched. “If ‘I feel insecure’?”

“Yes. Breast lifts, tummy tucks. Whatever will make you feel better. It’ll be up to you what and if you want to do any of that. I want you to be comfortable. It’s up to you.”

Tears came then and you did not try to stop them as they rolled fat down your cheeks. He was suggesting to get plastic surgery to correct all the damage the baby was going to do to you. The damage you expected. Like it was going to wave it all away; all the insecurity you had. And he sounded like he did not have any concern about it. It was you.

Choking out, you told him, “I don’t want to be unattractive. You only married me because of my looks.”

His face fell at that, you saw through your tears. He looked… pained.

“That’s what you really think isn’t it?” Tony could see it in your eyes and warbling bottom lip as you tried to hold it together. All the fight left him, it finally sinking in. “Oh, princess…”

Tony closed the space between the two of you on the couch, pressing in between your knees to get closer to you. He kissed you all over your face, ending at your lips. The kisses were tender, lingering. He tasted of his bourbon and you drank it in all the same. It was a comforting embrace he was giving you, a sincere one. You wanted to believe him so badly that everything was going to be okay.

Pressing your foreheads together, he held you close. He whispered, “You’ll always be beautiful.” He kissed the tip of your nose affectionately. “And mothers’ glow. Didn’t you know? You’ll be like an ethereal being.” You let out a strained laugh, hiccupping. Tony pulled you in for another kiss and he breathed against your lips as he said, “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t voice this to me. I know I’m an asshole sometimes and I don’t always express myself well, but… that shouldn’t keep you from talking to me about this. I should do better… I’m sorry.”

His hand came to rest on your stomach, and you breathed into his touch. He kissed the tip of your nose and said, “You’re doing me a favor. Really. I know I haven’t expressed it well. But, you are. You’re giving me stability. And yes, your looks are what drew me in but it’s you that made me want to stick around after that. Do you understand that?” You gave a weak nod and he repeated his eyes glossy, “Do you understand that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you said, and you let him pull you to him again to cradle you.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

#tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #mob tony stark #my shit

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devildom-tyrant · 4 years

Note

In your opinion, most to least, sex drive of the brothers? 🤔 (if you wanna include diavolo and the others as you please)

*Tossed in some headcannons and sexual feelings about the MC, too. ;D .... These, uh... Got out of hand a little. I may’ve written too much.

Avert your eyes, kiddos.

* Asmo -

He’s gotta be at the top because he’s the avatar of Lust. He’s had the most sexual conquests of the guys, and is continually upfront about his skills in the bedroom. He doesn’t really associate sex with love at the moment, however, because he hasn’t found anyone that he’s cared about more than himself... Until now, that is. Now, he doesn’t try to seduce you; you’re not another conquest or a notch in the bedpost to him. Until he figures out his feelings for you, however, and you actually start seriously dating, he’s going to continue to sleep around.

He’d be the most versatile lover of the bunch. He’d want to figure out your tastes and preferences and proceed from there. Do you want to be the one calling the shots? Do you want a gentle night of love making, complete with rose petals and candles? He’ll make that happen. Do you want something rough, to be spanked or bound beneath him? He can happily do that, too.

If you want to make his fantasies come true, make a connection with him. Look him in the eyes and tell him you’re in love with him.

Oh, and give him a massage, too.

* Lucifer -

For someone that comes across so composed and in-charge, Lucifer can also be rather... pent up. He isn’t someone that has random one night stands, usually, but it’s safe to say that he’s had many willing partners over the years. The Avatar of Pride likes to be the one in control (especially when his current circumstances have left him feeling like many aspects of his life are out of his hands); he wants to dominate, to have you want him and yield under his touch. Oh yes, being around you has awakened something in Lucifer again, and he keeping finding his thoughts drifting to you in the night and everything he’d do to you if you were alone in his room. If you weren’t in the equation, Lucifer would be probably be down a few notches on this list, but having you around has really reignited his sex drive.

He’d be a dominate, possessive lover. He wants to feel as if no one can take you away, as if he’s the only one you’ll ever think about -- even if it’s just in that moment. He has the restraint to not be rough, to not push your limits, but he’s going to be vocal about how you’re his. He’ll likely even leave a hickey or two in areas that can be covered up, just so you’ll notice them when you’re getting dressed and think about everything he did the night before.

* Satan -

There’s been plenty of opportunities for Satan to get laid, despite the rage he’s shoved back with a smile and seemingly-cool temperament. Witches love him, finding him intelligent and level-headed -- although the ones that get to really know him fear inciting his wrath. He’s had experiences with witches and demons alike, though they’ve been fleeting and meaningless, mostly for him to satisfy boredom or curiosity -- or provide a release without him raging over something trivial that may have transpired that week. There’s even been some encounters where he grew bored in the middle and simply left. Other than that, sex hadn’t really been at the forefront of his mind lately... until you caught his interest.

He didn’t think of you that way at first, of course. You were simply another human, someone he found interesting, but didn’t give much thought. After you formed a pact, however, he saw you in a new light. He found himself growing jealous over the thought of you with someone else, and every time he made a comment about wanting more of you... he meant it. The more he wanted to touch you, to kiss you and have you to himself, the more ramped up his sex drive became.

Satan would be a heated, dominate lover at first, though he’d be willing to give the reins over to you to do as you please out of curiosity. He wants to know what you’re into, what’ll make you gasp his name. It’s unclear if the possessive feelings he has toward you are an echo of Lucifer’s personality imprinted within the rage he was born from, but they’re there all the same. Sex with him is break-the-bed passionate, and he’s got plenty of stamina to keep going all night.

* Belphie -

This demon’s got a dirty mind, and while he may not necessarily be going out and sleeping with other demons, sex is something that he routinely thinks about... especially since he got to actually know you. He’s rather blunt about what he wants from you, and he doesn’t even mind sharing in that experience with Beel involved. When it comes down to it, he’s got experience; he’s gone off for the night more than once for a friends with benefits situation, but his interest in that waned for many years until you came along. Now, he finds himself trying to tease you for a reaction and making excuses for you to be alone with him in the attic.

He’d be a dominate lover, and probably more rough than he realizes; you’d have to let him know if he was gripping you too tight. If you’ve got a degradation kink, he’d be happy to fulfill that, too. If you were in a devil’s threesome with him and Beel, he’d be the one doing the instructing and taking charge. He talks a lot during sex, and he wants you to be vocal about what you like, too.

* Mammon -

He’s way too tsundere to be the type that’s going to be out there, letting just anyone touch him. He knows he’s good-looking, and he projects the confidence that everyone wants him... but when they actually do, he panics. This isn’t to say he’s a virgin, but when he does decide to go for a one-night-stand or an acquaintance with benefits deal, it’s few and far between and usually involves quite a few drinks to loosen him up and more than a bit of stroking his ego. He’s never been with a human (or witch), but there’s something about you that’s just so different. You don’t think of him as dumb, you go along (even if it’s reluctantly) with his schemes, and he always finds himself laughing and joking around with you. You provide a comfort to him where being around you is just easy, and whenever you lean against him while you’re watching movies together, his heart races. He’s never felt like this, and he just wants you.

He loves you.

You’ve reignited his sex drive, and although he feels embarrassed and awkward about it, he’s had more than a few fantasies and dreams about you letting him stay in your bed at night. He’s even begun to be afraid that he’s going to have one of those dreams on the nights when you do end up cuddling, and you’re going to wake up with Little Mammon pressing against your ass, and then he’ll just have to die.

Mammon would be a passionate lover, albeit a nervous one at first. He’s willing to switch, to either be the one in control or have you do whatever you want. He’s eager to please you, to feel a connection, but he also likes to be praised, to hear that the GREAT Mammon is doing a great job; he’ll catch your gaze and flash a satisfied smirk. He’s also willing to try anything once, so he’s open to your suggestions.

* Diavolo -

The demon prince could have his pick of practically anyone in Devildom or any witch in the human realm, and yet it’s not something he often indulges in. That’s not to say that he hasn’t; it’s just that he wants respect, and he’s old enough to be able to resist the urges. Sleeping with someone would require quite a bit of trust for someone in his position of power -- he’s not going to abuse it for such a need.

That said... Lucifer has indeed caught his attention. He would never use their roles to glean that intimacy from Lucifer, however; he wants it to come freely. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t fantasized about what that would be like, or that he hasn’t... hinted toward it on the nights when Lucifer stayed in his bedroom with him.

“You’re so tense, Lucifer. It’s like you need to just let go and have a... release.”

He picked his words carefully. Everything about the interaction was careful and precise, from the friendly, yet concerned smile curving his lips, to the contradicting, serious heat in his gaze. Lucifer’s spine grew straighter, every muscle in his body tense. He understood the meaning immediately.

The fallen angel sucked in a breath. “Is that an order?”

Diavolo felt a pang in his chest. Although Lucifer was the picture of obedience, his posture was closed off. The tone was conversational -- it wasn’t accusing -- but there was a distance in his gaze... and contempt underneath the surface.

“No, no.” The prince shook his head, spreading his hands, palm-out. His smile spread to conceal how deflated he felt. “Just a suggestion from a concerned friend.”

Despite that, Diavolo has seen the way Lucifer looks at you. It was to be expected when he started the exchange program, after all, but he doesn’t feel jealous about it. No, he genuinely feels relieved that Lucifer has begun to show more of his personality.

Diavolo would be a passionate lover, one that’s used to being the most powerful being and would have a difficult time giving control away to someone else. That said, he would be attentive and perceptive to his partner’s needs. His ideal fantasy is being the one to dominate Lucifer, to get him to trust him that much that he can have such a beautiful, proud man willingly submit to him.

However, he’s recently found himself thinking more and more about just what a threesome with you and Lucifer would be like...

* Solomon -

Don’t let the teasing smile fool you; this sorcerer is older than he looks, and he’s definitely gone with Asmo to quite a few succubus parties. In fact, he and Asmo have been intimate on more than one occasion. Solomon finds it fun to go with the flow most times, and he’s never been in a serious relationship, as his focus has been more on the magical arts and building pacts -- even though he’s jested about his past to keep people guessing. He keeps a wall between people most of the time, not quite getting close, yet still getting involved if they pique his interest. Love and lust are two very different things to him, and he’s able to keep feelings out of flings entirely. The sexual relations he does have are for his own amusement, with people he finds interesting.

That said, Solomon finds you interesting because of how quickly you’ve managed to form pacts -- including a pact he’s sought after for quite some time -- and the untapped power you possess. He hasn’t taken it beyond a sense of guidance and a little bit of rivalry, however, because he prefers to watch and see how everything plays out regarding you and the demon brothers.

Solomon’s mood influences what kind of lover he’ll be. Some days, he’s interested in seeing what drives the other person and what they want out of the encounter. Other times, he has something specific in mind. He’s someone that’s tried quite a few kinks and open to others. He’s generally laid-back about everything, he isn’t possessive, and he enjoys getting to figure out what the other person’s into. Some nights, he just wants to have fun, too; he’s been around Asmo enough to have experienced multiple partners at the same time.

* Beel -

Food isn’t the only thing that Beel’s into. He may come across as someone that isn’t overly sexual or concerned about those things, but food isn’t the only thing he wants, and there’s been plenty of people interested in getting it on. However, he’s never taken anyone up on it; Beel’s a virgin. He’s always thought that if he wanted food more than he wanted another person, then it wasn’t worth it; he didn’t want to grow bored or come away unsatisfied -- or use them just for an experience. However, ever since he’s grown attached to you... there are times when he’s thinking about you and doesn’t even feel hungry -- at least not in a sense that he’s used to. No, there’s a new hunger in Beel, one that scares him sometimes because he’s afraid he might lose himself and take a bite out of you. You’re a human, after all, and so fragile, while he’s got immense physical strength. If you kiss him, he’s afraid he won’t be able to stop, that he might squeeze you too tight or become too rough.

But that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. Regularly. And when Asmo told him that there’s a thing where people put chocolate on each other and lick it off --

No. He can’t do that; he’d definitely bite you if you were covered in chocolate.

Beel would be a careful lover, despite his fears. He would make sure he didn’t hurt you, but he’d also have bouts of being passionate, of kissing you until you were breathless and gasping. The first few times, you’d likely have to take the lead, to show him that he’s doing everything right because he’d be holding himself back too much to just go for it. But once he became comfortable, he’d be able to switch things up and be the dominate one. And with his strength, he could easily lift you into whatever position you wanted.

Just no food-play. Nope. It’s a bad idea, I’m tellin’ ya.

* Levi -

The otaku’s a virgin, definitely, but there’s no shame in that. He’s had ample opportunities to sleep with demons (and angels when he was in the Celestial Realm), but he’s never had the self-esteem to follow through or take them seriously. That’s not to say he doesn’t have a sex drive; Levi loves 2D characters, including hentai and H games, and he routinely finds himself getting attached to fictional characters and even reading smut online. He’s gotten off plenty of times in his room, but it’s only when he becomes close to you that he begins to fantasize about an actual person he knows. He feels a bit ashamed of it -- it feels dirty getting off to you when he thinks that you only see him as a best friend -- but he can’t help but find himself picturing you and him whenever he clicks over to his hentai.

Levi’s someone that you’ll have to work to convince it’s real first. You can tease him and flirt with him plenty -- he’s easy to fluster, and he’ll stammer as he fights to conceal his blush -- but even when you’re outright grinding in his lap, kissing him, he’s still not going to think it’s real. Once you can get past that, however, Levi will be an eager lover, enthusiastic, but also in need of guidance. Hentai isn’t exactly the most reliable form of sex ed, so you’ll have to show him what you like and take the reins to make him feel comfortable. He’ll be nervous, his hands shaking and his heart going doki doki to the extreme. But he’s a quick learner, and he’ll feel as accomplished as he would beating a dungeon if he can get you off.

You know how Barret does the Final Fantasy victory music when you win a battle in the FF7 Remake sometimes? Yeah. He’s doing that after you climax.

He’s also the only brother than might change into his demon form in the middle of it because his mind’s all over the place.

* Simeon -

It may just be because he’s an angel, but Simeon’s on the bottom of this list because he sees that intimacy as something sacred. He tries not to have impure thoughts about others, and actually getting to the point of sleeping with them would require an absolute commitment. Because of that, he’s never actually done the deed, though he’s opened his heart a few times to other angels over the centuries. He’s just never felt the spark he needed to want to close the deal. It’s not something he thinks about much -- but that said, he’s still able to be easily flustered. He’s not used to anyone being that direct in the Celestial Realm, so being among humans and demons is an... interesting change of pace, to say the least.

When Simeon does finally land the perfect partner for him, he’ll be an attentive lover. It’ll be love-making, definitely, the kind that’s in the movies where they stare into one another’s eyes as if they’re gazing into one another’s souls. He’s sweet, full of murmured words of adoration and body worship. The other person can be a guiding presence or they can figure out what they like together; either way, Simeon just wants to make sure it’s a night of intimacy that brings them closer together.

#obey me imagine #obey me headcanons #obey me game #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #suggestive #nsft #maybe?#sinner sinner chicken dinner #lime #-ish on the citrus scale #i don't know how to tag sin on tumblr anymore #just avert ye eyes children #lemme just post this up at 3am #also take my simeon and solomon hc's with a grain of salt #i haven't given all that much thought about them like i have the others #but it was fun to give them a go

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alexs-ummers · 4 years

Text

goodnight

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco struggles with his feelings: for you and the world around him.

Words: 2142

notes: requests are open! let me know what you think of this and what you want to see next.

There was something almost enticing about loving someone when they had no idea. Draco thought this anyway, but he also likes to toture himself, believing he was not worthy of a gentle love. The enticing part was the glances at you. He could take as many as he wanted because nobody but Draco knew just how hard his heart was beating. He could watch every hair tuck, every smile, every move that you made and you wouldn’t suspect a thing. Maybe that was the excruciating part: that you never returned those glances. There was just no place in this world for a love so soft that only you could provide. There was no world in which the two of you would live happily ever after. Not with the mark on his arm, not with the Dark Lord making house calls.

He watched you from across the Great Hall as you ate dinner with your friends. You had asked to hang out later to work on potions homework. “Oh, but you’re so good at it Draco, won’t you please help me?” He could never say no, even with the transfiguration homework he had piling up. He never wanted to see a frown on your face, certainly not one of his own doing.

He was too deep in thought to realize the trickling of students going out the door. It wasn’t long before you stood in front of him, waving a hand to get his attention.

“Draco?”

“Oh.” He looks almost surprised to see you.

“Did you forget?”

He shakes his head, standing up from the Slytherin table. “No. Actually, I was just thinking about it.” He was also thinking about how perfect you seemed to look, though there wasn’t much different about your appearance. This just seemed like another side effect from being in love. God, this was starting to become a sickness for him, something he needed to be rid of to go back to his normal life. He’s never felt like this. He sometimes even feels physically sick. You are only a casualty in a world like this, a weakness.

You had no idea of the storm going on within his thoughts. “Great, let’s go.” You beamed, unaware still of the pull Draco had towards you. He’d follow you anywhere if destiny allowed it, but alas.

Draco and you took a seat in the common room of Slytherin. Most people cleared out if they saw Draco here, especially when he was with you. It seemed as if they were somehow intruding on something.

“Tell me what you need help with.” Draco says, pulling out his parchment and quill. Homework would usually be done side by side, working together to solve problems, but Draco could do it all on his own if he needed to. He didn’t want to, though. He liked the alone time with you where all your attention was turned to him. He could sit close to you, so close that the words he shared could only be heard by you.

He’s already fixated on you, all his attention in one place. It was something you really loved about studying with Draco, he took it very seriously. “Well, Slughorn is having us research Amortentia before we brew it. I just need help answering the questions.”

“Do you know what Amortentia is?” Draco tests you.

“Well, yeah. It’s a love potion.” You roll your eyes, starting to answer the question on the parchment.

“It’s the most powerful love potion to ever exist.” Draco feels like he’s already under its effects. “It causes infatuation, so I guess I wouldn’t call that love.” Draco smiles a little to himself, answering the question on his paper. “Now, tell me what it looks like, what it’s characteristics are.”

You continue studying and answering questions with Draco’s help. It never seems like you have enough time with each other, the fire already beginning to die out. He offers to walk you back to your room as the light dies and the glow fades from your face. You accept, as always.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You always stand at your door, always hoping for something spectacular to happen. It never does. Draco has self control, more than anyone else you know. He has a wall built between everyone, it hurts to think about how he even has one with you. It’s something you’ve grown to accept.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Saying goodbye is always the hardest. It always was, during breaks, after dinner, after class. It felt like leaving a piece of lightness within him. You were so good. He wants to kiss you goodnight, on the cheek, on the forehead, on the lips, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He has a long list of reasons he shouldn’t.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You tease, as he stands there. He always did this, lingered for longer than he should. There was something between you. Something unspoken, you knew it. You would die for each other. Feelings like these were dangerous to act on, they were too strong. Surely, you’d end up with a broken heart.

“Will you meet me in the morning, at our spot?” Draco doesn’t ask this of you often, usually only when he needs a close friend. You know something is on his mind when he asks.

You nod, raising a hand to touch his cheek gingerly before you decide to retreat into the darkness of your bedroom. “Of course. Now, get some sleep.” He’s overthinking, he still is even when you touch him. It barely elicits a reaction, at least a noticeable one. He’ll dream of the touch for nights to come.

It’s a chilly fall morning, but the sun still decided it was the perfect time to wake you up. You had to meet Draco after breakfast, anyway. The wind whispers outside, reminding you to grab a jacket. It’d be a bone-chilling day. You seem to rush through breakfast, hurriedly telling your friends goodbye.

Draco is sitting against the tree when you arrive, still deep in thought like he hasn’t left his mind since yesterday. He was usually much more talkative during studying, cracking jokes, teasing you. You suppose he has been different since he came back from home. He doesn’t talk about his home life much, but you hear the rumors. You opt to listen to what Draco will tell you personally, which isn’t much.

You sit next to him without a word.

“I was thinking,” Draco starts.

“I can tell.” You take notice of the dark circles underneath his eyes and the disheveled hair. The classic Draco didn’t get any sleep.

He lets out a small chuckle despite the ache in his chest.

Draco spent all of last night, tossing and turning. He had a list of all the reasons it was a stupid idea to start a relationship with you. There was another growing list of reasons why he should, but he couldn’t be naive, he couldn’t give in to childish behavior. He couldn’t be fucking weak.

“I think…” Draco swallows, his thoughts doing a 360. He had the intention of telling you he loved you. “I think we should stop being friends.”

You’re taken aback. “Excuse me?” A 6 year friendship down the fucking drain, just like that? Your face grows warm, your stomach turns.

“I think we’ve grown apart.”

The tears pool in your eyes and you can’t begin to process his words. “Draco-”

“I’m serious, Y/N. I can’t do this.” Draco storms off from your spot by the lake, leaving you alone in the fall weather with a broken and cold heart.

You’re not sure how long you sit there in the bitter weather crying out all your pain.

Days pass, weeks pass, and nothing is the same for Draco. His mood worsens. He doesn’t sleep. He has no light in his life, but he knows now that’s all life has in store: darkness.

The two of you pass each other in the hallways, make eye-contact during potions, and dream of each other at night. It’s the only place Draco allows you to be.

A month passes before Draco can’t handle the loneliness anymore. It’s selfish of him, but he wants to see you. Things are stirring up within the darkside of the wizarding world. There’s talk of killing Dumbledore and Draco has yet to prove his allegiance to the Dark Lord. He already suspects that he’ll be tasked to do the job. He hates himself for risking your safety, but regrets not being there to keep you safe. Perhaps, you’d be safer with him. Surely, they would understand. He’s being naive again and he knows it.

He passes a note back to you during potions, he’s surprised you don’t rip it up instantly and throw the pieces in his face. It’s what he did to your heart, but he knows you too well. You would never hurt him like that, not like he did to you.

The note reads, “Our spot, 9 PM.” You roll your eyes, how dare he? He thinks he’s entitled to everything. Despite these thoughts, you put the note inside your robes. You’d return to the thought after you weren’t stressing over the potions homework.

It’s after dinner when you begin to think of him. You decided to go and meet with him. The rumors were dreadful around the school. Draco, a death eater, working for Voldemort. It terrified you, but you wanted to hear the truth from him. You couldn’t imagine the weight upon his shoulders, the family name… You sighed, checking the clock.

Draco stands at the tree. It’s dark, but the lights of the castle illuminate your silhouette.

“Hi, Draco.” You greet him, your demeanor cold, arms crossed. You didn’t expect to welcome him with open arms, not without an explanation, an apology, maybe not even then.

“Y/N.” He struggles with the urge to reach out to you. “I…” He looks away from you. He feels the itching of the mark underneath his robes. The secrets wanting to claw themselves out of him.

“You’re sorry?” You roll your eyes, sitting down at the tree.

You’ll be patient with him, you’ll at least give him that.

He wants to laugh a pathetic laugh. “Yeah.” He takes the spot beside you, arms touching, just like you used to.

“I know.” You respond.

“It’s not enough.”

“No, it’s not.” You gaze at the castle, wondering what had happened over the years. Draco never used to act like this, he was never an overthinker, a worrier. “It’s true, isn’t it?” Never would you bring up the rumors before, Draco hated them. He hated what others would say about his family, about him, about his relationships and his friends. But the world around you was changing. Voldemort was back.

“Yes.” He waits for you to scream at him, to run into the castle and tell everyone it’s true.

You don’t say a word. A hand grips his own. He feels the dark subside momentarily, he feels the light you bring him. You squeeze his hand. You don’t look at each other, there’s tears in both of your eyes. It’s too much to acknowledge that right now.

It’s silent for a while, just savoring the feeling of your hands gripping each other like it’s the only thing grounding you to this world and it is.

“I’m terrified.” This applied to everything in your life. Terrified for him, scared for your relationship, scared for the wizarding world.

“Me too.” He finally looks at you, moving his hand to touch your cheek. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Y/N.” He’s silent for a moment, “To us.”

You melt into his touch, nodding your head. Draco could tell you a complete and utter lie and you would believe him.

Draco knows now that there’s nothing better than knowing you’re loved back. The torment seems to subside when he’s holding you. You sit like this until the lights within the castle begin to fade. Draco offers to walk you back to the dorm. You accept, as always.

You don’t let go of his hand until the very last moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nods, feeling exhausted from the intense emotions. He still doesn’t want to leave your side, but he won’t rush this. He must nurture it, keep it safe and protected, like he promised.

“Goodnight, Draco.” You give him a small smile, still waiting for something spectacular.

He was always waiting for it too and the feeling finally bubbles over and he’s pressing his lips against yours. It’s short and it’s just what you needed. It makes you never want to be away from him. You want to be feeling a part of him always like a way to stay grounded. He presses one last kiss to your forehead, for safe measure.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy imagines #draco Malfoy oneshots #Harry Potter x reader #Harry Potter imagines #Draco Malfoy x y/n #my writing #Draco Malfoy #harry potter #angst

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

The Ranch {11}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

Cassian awoke the next morning and snuck out of Nesta’s bed, careful not to wake her as he pulled on his jeans. He didn’t get far though, because as he took a step toward the door, his shirt tossed lazily over his shoulder, there was a sleepy, “Sneaking out without a goodbye?”

Cassian chuckled softly as he looked over his shoulder. “I wanted to let you sleep. Sun’s not up yet. I gotta get to workin’.”

The top sheet was the only cover left on the bed by the time they were through the night before. And it was currently draped low over Nesta’s back. She dropped her messy head back onto her pillow and mumbled what sounded like a goodbye.

He made his way back to the bed, pausing to brush her hair off her face, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“I’m not getting up until it’s a reasonable hour,” she murmured.

He chuckled softly and he said, “Sounds good. I lo-.” The words nearly tumbled from his mouth, without even meaning to. He covered it by stuttering. “I’ll, uh, go into town later and pick up the materials we ordered for the stables.”

Nesta only nodded, already half back to sleep, not even noticing his near miss.

He watched her for another split second before hauling ass out of the little house and across the way into his own little cabin. Beau was instantly alert, staring at him with daggers in his little puppy eyes.

“Sorry, Beau,” he said, giving the pup a good rub. “I’ll come get you first next time.”

Beau quickly forgave him, jumping up to rest his paws on Cassian’s thighs.

“Let me change and let’s go check on the cattle, huh?”

Beau hopped down and followed Cassian into the bedroom as he changed, slipped on his boots, and took Beau out into the pastures.

It was over five hours later when he noticed the front door of the main house was open, as were all the windows. It was a beautiful day and he wasn’t surprised to see that Nesta had decided to let some fresh air into the house. He made his way up to the house, going around back to rinse the mud and horse shit from his boots. The storms had made the back pasture a swampy mess and he and Beau had spent most of their morning moving half the herd into the pasture closest to the house.

He opened the back door and froze, taking in the delicious smell. Nesta was at the stove, a large pan atop one of the burners. He rested his hands on her hips and pressed a kiss to her neck. “What’s for lunch?”

She leaned into him and flipped the sandwich in the pan over. “Croque monsieur.”

“I don’t know what the hell you just said, but I love the way you said it.” He kissed down her neck until he reached her bare shoulder.

She laughed and said, “It’s basically a fancy French grilled cheese, with ham.” She turned to kiss him and wrinkled her nose. She giggled and said, “You stink.”

He raised his brows before making a show of sniffing himself. “I smell fantastic.”

“You smell awful,” she countered.

“It’s called musk,” Cassian said. “The scent of a man.”

“It’s called shit,” Nesta laughed. “The smell of cow. And horses. Mixed with sweat.”

Cassian grinned. “Well, I’d shower but that would be a waste.” His work day was far from over.

“I suppose I’ll let it slide,” she said, sighing. “At least while I feed you.”

“I’m honored,” Cassian said, laughing as he sat down at the table while Beau laid by Nesta’s feet. “You painting?”

“Yes, I was hoping to get the living room, the dining room, and the downstairs bathroom done, but I’ve been working all morning on the living room and I’ve only finished half. So.”

“Want some help?” He asked, watching as she deposited the sandwich on a plate, then pulled two more out of the oven where they’d been warming.

She shook her head as she put the other two on the plate and set it in front of him. “No, thank you. You seem to have your hands full out there as it is.” She nodded her head in the direction of the back of the property and opened the fridge. She poured sweet tea into a glass and set it down in front of him.

He looked at the food in front of him. “You made me three sandwiches and you made sweet tea?”

“Is three too many?” She bit her lip as he took a drink of the tea.

He set his glass down. “God damn it, that’s good. Marry me.”

Nesta blinked, stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh, uncomfortably. “Okay, it’s good, but it’s not that good.”

“Agree to disagree,” Cassian said, mouth full of food.

She rolled her eyes. “Brute. Mind your manners.”

Cassian just grinned as he took another bite. “Seriously, thank you. It’s delicious.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, sitting across from him with a sandwich of her own. “Now stop talking with your mouth full.”

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, still talking with his mouth full.

She smiled and ate her own sandwich. Nesta filled Cassian in on the plans she had for the upstairs rooms. He listened quietly, eating his sandwiches and nodding in approval or made suggestions occasionally, but always swallowing his food before speaking.

After they were done eating, Cassian volunteered to do the dishes, while Nesta made her way back into the living room and continued painting. He heard her phone ring from the other room and heard a one-sided conversation between Nesta and one of her sisters.

The conversation began very normally, with Nesta answering with a simple, “Hey.”

He immediately heard an elevated voice from the other end of the phone. It sounded as if she was yelling and he quickly dried his hands off on the dish towel hanging from the cupboard before rushing into the living room.

He found Nesta leaning against the stairwell, with the phone against his ear, slowly rubbing her temples. He walked closer and could hear Feyre through the phone.

Nesta finally found a break in the conversation to say, “I was going to call you tonight, but-.”

Feyre began to speak again, and Nesta tried to speak a few times before he heard his name. Her eyes flicked up to him, just as his eyebrow rose. She hung up a moment later and Cassian asked, “Everything good?”

Nesta sighed and said, “I hope you didn’t have plans tonight, because we’re expected to be at Rita’s at seven.”

Cassian blinked. “And Feyre demanded that through yelling?”

“Apparently she had a conversation with Elain...who told her we slept together then went out on a date,” Nesta explained, looking pointedly at Cassian.

He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, uh, my bad.”

Nesta snorted. “Well, can you come tonight?”

“Depends,” he crooned. “Does this count as a second date?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, we’re all going out.”

“Then I’m busy,” he said.

She laughed, quietly. “Fine. It’s a date.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at six-forty-five.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Okay,” she smiled and turned to climb back up the ladder by the front door.

Cassian couldn’t resist the urge to smack her ass as he walked out.

Nesta was staring at her closet with a scowl on her face. Before moving back to the states, she’d sold most of her belongings. That included the bulk of her wardrobe. Now she was left with what would fit in two suitcases and a duffle bag, and after a month in town, she was starting to have to repeat clothes. She sighed and pulled out two potential outfits she hadn't worn.

One was a light pink dress with soft lace that framed her breasts. It was tight and short and honestly something Nesta never would have picked out for herself, had it not been given to her. The other was a black lace bodysuit, paired with jeans, but she wasn’t sure whether or not it was Velaris appropriate.

Who was she kidding, it was borderline obscene, but she looked damn good in it and she knew it.

She sent a short text to Cassian.

Don’t think, just answer. Black or pink.

The little dots appeared that showed he was typing back. Then they stopped. Then he sent Black.

Good answer, she thought, pulling it out of her closet and tossing it onto her bed. She curled her hair and did her makeup once she’d gotten out of the shower. It was weird to think she was more nervous for tonight than she was the night before, on their first date. This time, it wasn’t just the two of them. Now, they were going out with her sisters, with his friends. Tonight seemed more...official.

And it freaked her the fuck out.

She had just finished zipping her boot up when she heard a knock at her door. She checked her phone, noticing that six-forty-five had snuck up on her. She grabbed her clutch off the bed and hurried to the door, swinging it open to find Cassian, holding a dozen long stemmed roses.

Nesta stilled.

He held them out toward her, smiling upon seeing her surprised look. “For you.” Then he saw her and a curse fell from his lips. “You look...fuck. How much trouble will we be in if we just don’t show up to the bar?”

“A lot,” she chuckled, taking the flowers from him. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

She brought them inside and into the kitchen where she found a tall glass and filled it with water before setting the bouquet inside.

When she turned around, Cassian was right behind her, blatantly staring at her ass.

“May I help you?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, which only made her breasts pop out more.

He slowly met her gaze as he said, “Yes, please.”

With a roll of her eyes, she was taking his hand and dragging him out the front door.

Twenty minutes later, they were walking into a packed Rita’s. Nesta’s eyebrows raised. This was much different than the last time they’d been here. This was more reminiscent of the clubs she’d avoided in the big cities.

“College night,” Cassian said, voice raised so she could hear him. “VU students get a free shot with every premium beer ordered until eight-thirty.”

“That sounds horrible.” She cringed, but was thankful that was only a little over an hour away.

Cassian shrugged. “She never has to worry about her well alcohol sitting. It’s smart, actually. Come on.”

They made their way through the crowd, bumping into bodies as they moved to the music.

“Your sisters are over at the corner table,” he said, putting his lips to her ear. “Why don’t you go deal with them and I’ll get us a drink.”

She nodded and as she turned to leave, he tugged on her hand. When she looked back at him, he gently cupped her cheek and pressed him lips to hers. Then he pulled back, winked and a smacked her ass.

She rolled her eyes and made her way over to the table.

As she scooted into the booth, Feyre and Elain paused the animated conversation they were having, both having taken advantage of Feyre’s VU ID card from the year before.

Nesta’s phone vibrated and she pulled it from her clutch, holding a finger up before one of them exploded.

I’m going to enjoy taking that off tonight.

It vibrated again.

Very, very, very slowly.

And once more.

With my teeth.

She texted back, watching him across the room as his phone was in his hand. He was leaning on the bar, casually talking to Azriel, but she saw the change on his face when he read her response.

My turn to surprise you with no panties.

She watched as he blinked and took a long, slow breath. Then he was typing away and a second later she received, Tease.

She snorted and shoved her phone into her pocket before meeting the interrogating gazed of her sisters.

Nesta waited, but when neither of them spoke, she asked, “What?”

Elain and Feyre both started talking at once.

“What the fuck?” Feyre asked, “Cassian? And you didn’t tell me?”

Just as Elain said, “He called me the other day and I got way too much info from him that I should’ve got from you.”

They stopped, and Nesta stared, and then Feyre said, “Bitch.”

“Are you two done?” Nesta asked, leaning back in the booth.

Elain nodded as Feyre grinned. “Details. Hurry. I give them less than two minutes before they’re coming this way.”

Nesta pursed her lips and gave them the condensed events, starting with their conversation in the morning, spending more time than was necessary on Emerie and limited detail on the sex itself.

Feyre groaned and said, “On the couch? Really?”

Elain looked at her, sipping her beer. “Says the one who let Rhys fuck her on the kitchen table.”

Feyre almost spit out her drink.

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh as Cassian plopped onto the booth next to her, sliding a cocktail in front of her.

Elain and Feyre’s eyes slid his direction.

He paused, bottle of beer halfway to his mouth.

“Why didn’t anyone make this big of a deal when you and I had sex for the first time?” Rhysand mumbled, practically falling on top of Feyre.

“Because you made it publicly known, starting the second after it happened,” Azriel added, pulling a chair up to the end of the table. “And it got really annoying, really fast.”

Feyre laughed, patting Rhysand on the knee, and Nesta said, “Can we please change the subject?”

The six of them all fell into conversations, flowing from one to another naturally, laughing and drinking and just enjoying spending time with each other.

“Baby,” Feyre slurred, laying her head on Rhys’ shoulder. “I wan’ dance.”

“Oooh!” Elain was already trying to pull Azriel out of the booth.

“Y’all go ahead,” Rhys said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Come on, Nesta,” Elain demanded, as Azriel stayed put.

Nesta hesitated, then gazed longing at her drink. “But I haven’t-“

She was pulled out of the booth, unable to stop her laughter from sputtering out of her mouth as she fell into the middle of the dance floor with her sisters.

It had been a long time since she allowed herself to let loose, to dance. When she was younger, it had never really been her thing, but as she grew older, especially being with her sisters, it was freeing.

The live band playing on the little stage was playing so loudly that she could feel the music thrumming throughout her body. She looked back at Cassian every once in a while.

He was watching her, intently, with a hungry gaze. She turned, holding onto Feyre’s hand. They laughed and Feyre spun her. Her long empty drink was raised in the air and when someone took it from her, wrapping their arms around her, she settled back into the warmth of his arms.

She moved to the music, the feeling of his arms around her intoxicating, fueling the warmth of the alcohol in her veins.

Azriel was pulling Elain towards the booth, while Rhysand dramatically dipped Feyre. Nesta couldn’t help but smile as she felt the calloused hands grip her hips and grind her into himself.

Her hair was dragged back from her neck and lips nibbled on her pulse point, smooth skin dragging along her own.

She ran her hand up the back of Cassian’s head, grabbing for his long hair that she’d known he left down for her.

Only to feel close cropped hair slide across her fingers.

She stilled, only for a second, before spinning around to meet Tomas’s humored gaze.

His hands reached for her waist, once more, as Nesta asked, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Come on,” he said, above the music as she swatted his hands away. “Don’t act like you didn’t feel it when we ran into each other the other day, Nes. Dance with me. It’s just a dance.”

“I don’t want to,” she hissed, and went to move around him, but he stepped into her path.

“One dance,” he crooned, his hand grabbing hers.

But a hand had reached up to grab Tomas on the shoulder from behind him. Nesta’s eyes connected with Cassian's hardened hazel eyes, which were watching the back of Tomas’ head.

“I’m pretty sure the lady said no.” The words were almost impossible to distinguish from the music, the growl nearly as deep as the bass

“Fuck off, Nazari.” He shrugged, pulling Nesta’s body into his. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

She pushed him off. “No, thank you,” she said, trying to distance herself from him, stumbling into a table.

Cassian caught her, steadying her. He got in Tomas’ face. “Don’t fucking touch her. You lost your chance.””

A light sparked in Tomas’s eyes: recognition. “Ah, she's warming your bed now, is she?”

Cassian's jaw locked but Nesta’s eyes had narrowed. “Fuck off, Tom.”

But Tomas was looking at Cassian. “Out of all the people in the world, she found the trashiest bastard in town.”

“Leave,” Cassian ordered. His voice was low, quiet, but his shoulders were tensed.

The little smile remained on Tomas’s lips as he looked to Nesta. “When you get bored of him, my number is still the same.”

He walked away, but even as Tomas reached the door, Cassian didn’t move.

Nesta turned. “You know Tomas.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, didn’t look away from his retreating form. He only nodded.

Nesta felt her walls rebuilding. She felt the cold chill shoot up her spine. “How.”

Cassian’s eye trailed him as he left, then he glanced down at her, the disdain clear. “He’s the reason my roping career ended.” The music continued playing around them and he said, “I hate him. I don’t want you around him.”

Nesta blinked once. She could barely think. Could barely put two words together, much less tell him that she had no interest in speaking to or seeing Tomas Mandray ever again.

Instead, the single word that left her mouth was, “What?”

“I don’t want you around him,” Cassian repeated.

Nesta nearly wanted to laugh, but there was no hint of laughter in her voice as she asked, “And who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

Cassian stilled, but his lips were tight.

“Fuck you,” she spat, the anger inside of her growing until her hands began shaking at her sides. “I’m not your girlfriend. You can’t tell me what to do.”

She pushed through the crowd, reaching their table and retrieving her bag and phone, unwisely tossing back the rest of her drink. She turned and found him nearly to the table as well, but was darting down the back hall, towards that glowing red sign that would mean her escape from bodies that made her feel too hot, too close, too tight.

She burst out the door and turned, leaning her back against the brick wall across from the door, eyes closed as she swallowed as much air as she could. The alley was empty mercifully as she caught her breath, as she reminded herself that no one was forcing her to stay inside.

“What the fuck are we then.”

She hadn’t even heard him come out, wondered if he’d come out when she did. If he did, he’d let her have a moment until she didn’t look like she was going to fall apart.

“Leave me alone, Cassian,” she said, face in her hands.

“No, I want you to give me an answer,” he hissed.

She didn’t bother looking at him. “Take me home,” she whispered, exhausted.

“Well which is it?” He asked, his voice rising. “Leave you alone or take you home?”

Tears sprung in the corners of her eyes, and she hated herself for it. She didn’t take her hands away from her face.

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me-.”

“Just stop!” She yelled, her hands falling away as she turned to face him.

He froze, jaw locking.

The door opened and Elain and Azriel came out into the alley. She frantically caught Nesta’s hand and asked, “Are you okay?”

She held Cassian’s stare and blinked, looking at her sister and nodding. The silent tears that began to stream down her face rooted Cassian to where he was standing.

“Come on,” Elain said, voice soft. “Let’s go.” She began to pull Nesta away and Cassian reached out, brushing his fingers against hers.

She looked at him, and that softness he’d woken up to this morning, the light he’d gotten used to…

It was gone. And in its place was the raging storm she’d been when he’d met her.

He didn’t understand.

Wanted to, but didn’t.

Nesta walked away with Elain and Azriel, the latter looking over his shoulder apologetically.

He stayed put for a moment, mind whirling, as he watched her walk out of the alley and disappear around the corner before tumbling back to his own truck.

He felt confused.

Pissed. Frustrated. Upset. Hurt. But mostly confused.

“Cass!”

He turned and caught Rhysand’s eyes from the door. He and Feyre hurried to his truck. She demanded, “What the fuck happened?” Cassian didn't even have time to reply before she forged on. “I looked over and found the three of you in each other’s faces. And then that fucker left and she stormed away from you?”

“He was being an ass. Then I told her I didn’t want her around Tomas and she lost her shit,” Cassian mumbled. “I don’t know. I’m going home.”

Feyre reached out and grabbed his arm as he was about to pull himself into his truck. He stopped, and when he met her eyes, he was surprised to find her eyes soft.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” she whispered, even though from the look on Rhysand’s face, he knew enough about why. “She and Tomas… He… Just don’t be too hard on her.”

He didn’t bother to mention that he wasn’t sure if she’d even speak to him.

When he got home, he found her on his porch. She still wore that damn skin tight lace, showing every delicious curve he wanted to run his tongue along.

Every curve he had run his tongue along.

He got out of the truck and made his way up the stairs, his boots thudding with each step.

She sat on the top step, a lit cigarette between her fingers.

He leaned on the railing, crossing his arms, and said, “Didn’t know you smoked.”

She put it to her lips and took a drag, the end glowing in the darkness. She blew out a stream of smoke and shrugged. “I don’t. Just a nervous habit.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He hesitated, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk.”

She nodded, taking another pull and stood, dropping the cigarette into a beer can that had been left on the small patio table he had. It went out with a sizzle.

“If I’ve…” he began, then stopped. He blew out a long breath before starting over. “If I’ve jumped to conclusions about what we are, I’m sorry.”

Nesta didn’t say anything, didn’t move for a moment. She stared at a spot on the deck for a moment before saying, “Nothing about tonight was about you.”

Cassian wanted to press her, but didn’t. He didn’t need to, though, because she continued.

“I didn’t realize you knew Tomas, it threw me off,” she said. “We used to date. For a long time. He was an ass. Made me feel….small. And then he cheated on me. That was almost ten years ago, and I haven’t been in a real, healthy relationship with anyone since. I don’t even know if I’ve ever had a healthy time relationship.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, contemplating just how much he should say. But this woman… this gods damned breath of fresh air that had blown into town, into his life and actually made him enjoy what he did again…

The woman that he’d fallen in love with… she deserved to know everything.

“I know.” She looked up from the deck and waited for him to continue. He sighed and closed his eyes, taking a moment before he went on. “You may not have remembered me from school, but Cauldron, I remembered you. I had the biggest crush on you, but when I found out you were dating Tomas Mandray, the only other header in our state that gave me a run for my money? The one thorn in my fucking side who only won because daddy bought him the fastest horse he could find?” He shook his head. “I knew that we never had a chance, regardless of the fact that you didn’t even know I existed. I could have introduced myself, I could have put myself on your radar, but what good would that have done? You were still with him.” Nesta stared at him unable to say anything. “And then I saw you in Guthrie.” He looked at her, looked into her eyes, letting her see the sincerity in them. “And I saw him make you cry. I knew it was none of my business, so I didn’t say anything. Rhys told me if I did anything to fuck up our chances at a title, he’d personally cut my balls off. We roped the first night, took the average. Roped the second, came up short by point zero four seconds. Still won the average so far, but Tomas was right behind me. Then on the third, I caught him running his mouth and bragging about how he was able to keep that side piece from you for months.”

Nesta felt like she was going to be sick. She’d never been sure, but she’d always assumed he’d been cheating on her for longer than she knew.

“So I beat the shit out of him, had my membership in the USTRC revoked and was told that I’d never rope professionally again. And I haven’t. I was turned away from every rodeo I tried to enter. So I gave up.”

Nesta stared at him, completely speechless. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind but they all sounded ridiculous. All she managed was a breathless, “You…” but nothing followed.

He looked up at her then, at her wide, misty eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, then she said, “You really did beat the shit out of him.”

Nesta remembered hearing about it the next day, feeling grateful at whoever gave Tomas what he deserved.

But never in a million years would she have thought it had been Cassian.

“You didn’t deserve to be disrespected like that, whether you knew or not.” His voice was quiet, still, cold.

She breathed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He let his hands drop to his side and a frustrated chuckle left him. “What was I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, I assaulted your ex and had my dream ripped from me when it was within spitting distance?”

She didn’t say anything, knowing he was right. How would he have even brought it up, especially seeing her reaction to Tomas in the hardware store.

Her lips tightened but she said nothing. She should apologize, should try to tell him something comforting or reassuring, although that had never been a strength of hers.

Instead, she met him at the top of the stairs and laid her fingers against his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. And when he did, with eyes still half lit with anger, but dwelling with softness for her, she kissed him, softly, slowly.

He melted into the touch of her lips against his, his arms wrapping around her slender waist.

She pulled back, and he was shaking his head. “I’m sorry I got pissed tonight,” he breathed, brows furrowed. “I acted like an ass.”

“You did,” she agreed, and the chuckle that left him slid across her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You were just trying to protect me, and I know that. You’ve apparently been doing that way longer than I’ve known.” She smiled softly and his lips turned up slightly in response, that anger diminishing with every second. “But… I can fight my own battles, Cassian. I’m a big girl and I promise I can handle myself on my own. Okay?”

He closed his eyes, sighed and nodded. “Okay. But only if you agree to let me step in if need be. I promise,” he began, his eyes sincere. “I won’t ever overstep my boundaries if I can help it, but if I feel like something is wrong, I’ll have to handle it.”

“You’ll have to?” She whispered, amusement lacing her tone.

He nodded, slowly, eyes bright as he cupped her face. “I care about you, Nesta.”

Words escaped her as she stared up at him, as his thumbs brushed across her cheeks.

She knew he wasn’t lying, knew he wasn’t saying it just to say it. She could see the truth of his words in his eyes, could feel it in his touch.

The thought terrified her.

But it ignited her, too, set her soul on fire, woke her up.

“Kiss me,” she breathed, pleaded, needed to taste him to know this moment, these confessions, were real.

So he did. His hand curled into her hair, the other going to her lower back, holding her against him, and his lips devoured hers in a searing kiss. It took her breath away and made her feel alive. There was so much he couldn’t say that he poured into that kiss and Nesta could feel it, could feel herself falling.

This man, this impossibly frustrating, amazing, complicated man, he had thrown her world off its axis. Had made her second guess a lot of things about her life she’d never allowed herself to.

And he cared for her, for some ridiculous reason that she was trying so hard to understand but didn’t. They were polar opposites, two people worlds apart. She didn’t care, though, didn’t care that they didn’t make sense.

Cassian lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist in silent acceptance. He carried her inside of the little cabin, where Beau looked up from his spot on the couch before snuggling back into the cushions.

Neither of them said a word, their lips refusing to be parted, as they entered his bedroom.

Her back gently hit the mattress as he laid her down, his body covering hers. Her hands were in his hair, framing his face, pulling at his shirt, grabbing his ass through his jeans. He was all she could feel, all she could, taste, smell, see, hear. He completely overwhelmed her senses, but gods, she loved the disorienting haze his kisses dragged her into.

She bit his bottom lip, just like she had on the football field, and he growled quietly. Pulling back, his hazel eyes found hers and they were intense and she found herself wanting to push him, to see how far she could go before he lost control.

So she leaned up, brushing her lips along his jawline. His stubble was rough, scratching against her skin in an intoxicating way, and she trailed her kisses down his throat until she found that spot where his neck met his shoulder.

The hand bracing his weight that was next to her head balled into a fist, the sheets and blankets bunching up in it. The hand on her hip tightened.

Her gentle fingers slid beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath. Those teasing kisses along the base of his throat continued, sucking softly, brushing her tongue against his skin.

His eyes closed, his lips parted.

Nesta wanted to capture that moment, paint him in that light for all eternity, hardly holding on, dwelling in her touch as she worshipped him, patiently.

Her hands slid up his back, just beneath his shoulder blades as her lips trailed down between the collar of his shirt.

A shuddering breath left him and he leaned back, pulling the shirt over his head and went to lie back atop of Nesta. Instead, she pressed a palm to his chest and took a moment to look at him.

He was a fucking Adonis in human form. Her hand trailed down between his pecs, across his abdomen, over the dusting of hair beneath his belly button, and finger followed the deep groove of muscle at his hip down into the jeans that were becoming impossibly tighter with every touch.

She looked up at him through her lashes, and dragged that finger along the waistband of his jeans, finding the button and playing with it before she popped it loose.

He watched, lips pressed together. Nesta swore he held his breath as she pulled down his zipper and pushed his jeans down past his hips. Cassian’s body finally shook with a deep breath as he pushed himself off the bed and onto the floor. Nesta rolled onto her side and silently watched as he kicked off his boots and pushed his jeans onto the wooden floorboards, but when he took a step back toward the bed she shook her head, eyes bright as they admired him.

She scooted herself to the side of the mattress before pulling herself up into sitting position, her long legs draped over the sides. She reached down to unzip one of her boots and toss it to the side, then the other, and she stood in front of him before trailing her fingers down his body, once more.

He was beautiful.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” His voice was rough. His fingers found her chin and when he grazed his thumb across her lips, she pressed the softest of kisses to it. When she heard his breath hitch, she pulled it into her mouth and sucked lightly, letting her tongue swirl around it. She looked up at Cassian, into his eyes, and she swore she was going to combust from the look he was giving her.

He removed his thumb, and though there was a ferocity in his eyes, he gently took her face in both of his hands and kissed her softly.

He pulled back and whispered, “Nesta, I-. Fuck…” His words trailed off as he kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip. He pulled away abruptly, leaving Nesta breathless. He spoke in a rush, almost as if he knew that if he didn’t speak now, he wouldn’t speak at all. “Fuck, Nesta, I think I love you. And I know that’s insane, but you’re all that I think about. You’re the only thing I want, and I just-.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I had to tell you. I’m falling for you, harder and harder every day.”

Feeling breathless, her forehead fell against his chest. She closed her eyes, terrified of the next words to come out of her mouth. “I feel the same.” And she looked up at him, then, through her long lashes. “I love you, too.”

Four words, barely audible, even in the silence of the cabin. But the look in his eyes at those words was something so vulnerable and raw, with a hint of something almost like surprise, that Nesta could hardly breathe.

She wanted to tell him not to hurt her, not to break her heart, not to make her regret those words. But as he took that little step closer to her, closing what was left of the distance between them, she knew he wouldn’t.

He didn’t need to tell her, because he would show her.

A hand reached around and found the small zipper at the back of her neck, and he slowly pulled it down. His finger skimmed along her skin as he dragged it along her spine and a chill ran through Nesta. He undid the button of her jeans and Nesta held her breath, unsure of why she felt so nervous. Cassian began to work her jeans down, but when they wouldn’t budge past her hips, he cleared his throat. “I imagined this being much more smooth, but, uhm, I can’t get your pants off.”

Nesta laughed, quietly, as she shimmied herself out of her tight jeans. He watched as she pulled herself out of her lace bodysuit, until she was bare before him.

“Told you, no panties,” she whispered, and his answering grin had her toes curling.

“And I told you I wanted to take that off with my teeth…”

She smoothly replied, “Next time.” Cassian smirked.

With no warning, he picked her up and tossed her onto his bed, following suit and crawling up her body, pausing to taunt, tease and taste. He stopped at her breasts, unable to resist any longer as he took a peaked nipple between his lips, his fingers finding the other and rolling into slowly.

Nesta began to writhe, gripping his hair and tugging on the loose strands. The whimpers and moans falling from her lips were too much and he fisted his cock, stroking in time with the roll of his fingers.

Her legs were wrapping up around his waist, and she pulled his body into hers. She had to be closer to him, the distance seemed too great, too far, after the words they’d spoken.

“Cassian.” She whispered his name, breathed it into the night. He looked up at her, his lips falling away from her nipple, and saw the desperate beckoning look in her eyes. He climbed up her body, covering hers with his. He moved the stray hairs from her face before taking her wrists gently into his hands and moving her arms above her head, his fingers slowly intertwining into hers.

He pressed his forehead against hers, his hardened cock pressed up between her folds.

Her eyes remained locked with his as her fingers tightened in his own. “Make love to me, Cass,” she breathed.

His lips parted and a slow, shaky breath left his mouth, warming her own.

He slowly, torturously slowly, pushed into her, pausing when he was fully seated inside. The overwhelming fullness had Nesta breathing heavily, her chest heaving, and Cassian leaned down, pressing soft kisses to her lips. “Are you okay?” The question was no louder than a whisper, but Nesta nodded, eyes still closed.

She’d been with a few men since Tomas all those years ago. None more than a few times, as Nesta’s schedule was too busy for more than anything but a passing fling, but she’d never been dissatisfied with the sex she’d had, never been disappointed by the size of her partner.

She was ruined now, she realized as Cassian slowly pulled out and snapped his hips back into hers, for any other cock, because none could compare to the one currently inside of her. Or the man to whom it belonged.

He continued the slow, agonizing pace until Nesta began to squirm. He leaned down and kissed her, palming her breast, and asked, “What is it, sweetheart?” He never halted his thrusts, kept driving Nesta wild with each flex of his hips.

She was whimpering and groaning and writhing, and breathed, “Touch me, please.”

He picked up his pace, just barely, as his hand fell from her breast and slowly dragged down her side. Cassian pushed himself up on his knees, then, and pulled her ass onto his lap as that steady pace inside of her continued. His thumb found her clit and he circled it, slowly, as he thrust his cock in and out, his other hand gripping her ass as a guide.

Nesta threw her head back, her body flooding with that familiar warmth, and she didn’t try to quiet the moan that he pulled from her. One hand was fisted in the sheets by her head and the other replaced his, tweaking her nipple.

“God damn, baby,” he breathed, gazing down at her. Fuck, she was so beautiful, so perfect. Her full hips that he couldn’t get enough of grabbing onto. Those parted lips that drove him wild. But gods, those breasts.

Nesta reached out and ran a hand down his chest. He caught her fingers and sucked one into his mouth as she has before, biting down lightly. Her other hand had stilled on her stomach and she watched him with lust addled eyes. He gripped the other in his hand and pinned them above her head again, lifting his hips and roughly thrusting into her again and again.

She cried out, unable to form a sentence or even his name.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, fighting his growing orgasm. He wanted to bend her over his dresser, wanted to watch himself fuck her in the mirror, but she was so tight and he was so close.

A string of curses flooded his mind as his head fell back, his eyes closed, but only for a second. Nesta’s cries grew louder and he watched as her body tensed, her pussy clenching around him, squeezing his cock. He leaned back to get the perfect view as he grabbed her ass and pulled her into him as his pace quickened.

“I’m...close,” he grunted, voice straining. She was still riding out her orgasm, unable to speak, but acknowledging him with a nod. He kept pounding into her, watching the way her breasts bounced with her every thrust until his head fell back again and he grunted out, “I’m about to come.”

He expected her to scoot back so he could come on her stomach or her tits. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if she took him into her mouth to finish him off.

He didn’t expect her to tighten her legs around him and hold him in place. He didn’t expect the frantic nod she gave him when their eyes connected, question written clear across his face. He didn’t expect the quietly whimpered, “Please,” as he thrust into her one final time before his release barreled through him, vision going white as he came harder than he ever had before.

Cassian groaned as he came, filling her up, quick, hard thrusts continuing long after her pussy had milked him for his last drop.

He fell down against her, his cock still inside of her as his sweaty, hard body covered hers. She wrapped his arms around his neck as they tried to catch their breaths. Neither of them said a word in the silence as they clung to one another..

Cassian was about to get up when Nesta breathed, “No, just…stay here, please.”

He nodded, pressing his lips to her neck. He rolled them, so she was lying on top of him, rather than the other way around, and he dragged a lazy finger up and down her back.

“Shit,” he said, letting loose a deep breath. “That was the-.”

“Best orgasm you’ve ever had?” She finished.

He nodded, head sinking deeper into his pillow as he wrapped his arms around her tighter. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

One of his hands dipped lower, cupping her ass. They laid there in a careful silence, enjoying feeling each other’s body against the other, when Cass finally said, “Don’t you need to go…clean up?” He let his hand slip lower until he could feel their mixed essences dripping out of her.

He was still inside of her and she could have sworn that she felt him harden, just the slightest.

She shook her head, nestling into his chest. “In a minute. I can’t get pregnant.”

The hand on her back stilled. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

Nesta’s body tensed as his hand froze. She slowly leaned up to meet his gaze. “Can’t.”

She waited for Cassian to say something, anything, but he didn’t. Yet the hand on her back began to move up and down her skin once more.

She laid back on his chest and closed her eyes. “I was told years ago I won’t be able to have children.”

Her voice was quiet, and for once, she found herself afraid to say it. She hadn’t ever really wanted kids, hadn’t really ever thought about settling down and starting a family.

But when she said the words to Cassian, a little bit of a heavy feeling settled into the pit of her stomach.

Having a family hadn’t been in the cards for her before. If she was too busy to have a boyfriend, how was she supposed to figure out how to juggle a child and her restaurants? So when she found out at twenty-two that she would never be a mother, she didn’t even dwell on it, hadn’t given herself time to be sad about it, or think about what that really meant.

But for Cassian, the words were a blow. He’d grown up alone, in every sense of the word. Before his mother died, she was always working nights. She would be asleep when he left for school, and would have to be at work by five. He saw very little of her. Barely knew the woman who he’d laid in the ground before his thirteenth birthday.

He’d always dreamed of having a huge family, at least three kids, maybe even four. He’d even let himself imagine what their kids might look like, with his tanned complexion, and her striking eyes. But in a moment, that dream was gone.

“Please say something,” she whispered.

Cassian nodded, although she wasn’t looking at him. “Sorry. Just surprised.” He kept his voice quiet. “It’s okay.”

What else was he supposed to say? He loved her, still, and voicing his disappointment would just upset her, and what would erase all the progress that had just been made.

He turned her head to face him. She kept her eyes closed. “Look at me,” he whispered. She opened her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek and landed on his chest. “I love you. Okay? It’s okay.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why are you crying?”

She shrugged lightly and said, “I didn’t even think I wanted children. When I found out, I was in culinary school and I didn’t have time for kids, nor did I have a good relationship with my family, so I thought it was a blessing in disguise and…” She sniffled and closed her eyes again, as another tear fell. “Now, things are different and I feel...broken.”

Cassian let out a breath as he pulled her in closer, holding her tightly against him. “It’s okay,” he repeated.

She wiped at her eyes against his chest before burying her face into his skin.

They laid like that for hours, clinging to one another, Cassian telling her that he loved her over and over again, as if he couldn’t say it enough, as if he was afraid that she didn’t believe her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him.

It’s that she didn’t think she deserved it.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #snacmc #snelbz #tacmc #snelbz tacmc collab #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nessian

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wwilloww · 4 years

Text

cliff diving pt. 1 | kth

CLIFF DIVING | KTH 1 of 3

genre: fluff. smut. nonidol!au. camping!au.

pairings: Taehyung | Reader

rating: 18+. NSFW. Explicit.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing. talk of sex. undressing. pining. minor jealousy. mxm makeout. handholding ? (this list will get longer as I add more chapters)

summary: Every year as soon as the weather warms up, your friends haul ass out of the city to the mountains where you camp and hike in the shadow of giant rocks and ancient evergreens—and now apparently jump off of cliffs for fun. This time, an innocent round of truth or dare inspires you and Tae to play a mischievous game without getting caught by your friends.

a/n: Wow, okay, this is not what I expected. This is part 1 of 3, meaning the other chapters are written, I’m just spicin’ them up for you 😉

So many thanks to @spicykoreantatertots for beta reading this at LITERALLY the last minute and for her incredible support. If you like this, please let me know! And if you want to be added to the tag list, leave a comment and you’ll be notified as soon as part 2 is up! Okay okay, enough chitterchatter, lets get it.

moodboard

masterlist || series masterlist || ao3 || next chapter ->

CHAPTER ONE

Fifty feet beneath you, the deep blue swimming hole awaits, dark and cold from mountain snowmelt. The evening sun beats down gloriously on your back, teasing freckles to the surface of your skin.

This is not your idea of fun.

The five of you sit on the top of a large piece of natural red rock, panting from the climb and sipping on luke-warm beers while you admire the stark beauty of the mountains rising up around you, singing in late summer glory. Every year as soon as the weather warms up, your friends take a couple of days off of work, haul ass out of the city to the mountains to camp in the shadow of giant rocks and ancient evergreens—and now apparently jump off of cliffs for fun.

As much as you love your friends and would probably follow them anywhere, you can’t deny how dizzy you feel peeking over the stark red rock and into the waiting waters below. Even sitting several feet away from the edge does nothing to quell the feeling of tipping over the edge of the rock and into the open air.

While you all cool down from the hike and enjoy the image of the mountains sprawled out around you, Jin has convinced you all into a classic game of truth or dare—something you haven’t done since college. But with the combination of the height swirling in your body and the fact that it seems your friends have some kind of secret pact to pass along every intimate truth and absurd dare to you, you are feeling oddly tense. They had steadily extracted secrets you had no intention of ever sharing, like all the gory, embarrassing details of your last hookup (the toe guy). Meanwhile, the boys seemed to skate by with harmless dares and less-than entertaining truths.

Jin nudges you. “It’s your turn,” he winks.

“Alright,” you let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Truth.”

Groans rise up from the four boys around you.

“You always pick truth,” Jungkook complains. “You’re so booring.” He draws the last word out, slumping against your shoulder in a dramatic show of his disappointment.

“Okay, okay, fine, dare,” you shoot back.

“Nope! You already picked truth,” a grinning Jimin pipes from across the circle. “So you get a truth.” You groan. By the look in his eyes, he’s going to make this painful for you. Jimin has proven himself to an expert at extracting the most devilish truths.

The question that springs to his lips seems almost preconceived.

“If you were to pick any of us to have a friends-with-benefits thing wit—, no, wait—”

“To fuck, who would you fuck?” Jin finishes.

“Fwa—?!” you sputter, spitting beer. “What the hell kind of question is that?!”

The four boys around you crack up, Jin slaps his knees as his signature bray echoes off the rocks. Jimin giggles, Jungkook snorts, and Tae—well, Tae is oddly quiet. You wonder if he disapproves of the question.

To be honest, it’s not as if you had never thought of it before. You had undeniably attractive friends. You had seen the way Jimin’s hips moved when he practiced his dance routines. You’d watched Jungkook grow from a scrappy boy to a strong and kind young man. And Jin was an expert at balancing the dynamic of the group, always so gentle and hilarious—and undeniably the most handsome of your friends. And Tae, well, then there was Tae.

He had started on the outskirts of your small group of childhood friends as one of Jungkook’s besties, but because he lived several towns over you rarely saw him. However, after all of you ended up at the same university, Tae’s boxy smile and gentle humor became a constant as he gradually wove his way into your hangouts and your heart. While you had initially written him off for his ridiculously good looks, he proved himself to be more than just a pretty face. You quickly learned that his sharp gaze was trained--not to judge--but to make sure everyone had what they needed. He became a shoulder to lean on and someone to look up to and when he spoke about the things he was most passionate about, a soft smile would take over his features and his voice would deepen with a unique kind of magic.

Over the years you had found yourself lingering on the idea of Tae. It crept into your life naturally, starting with an urge to text or see him popping into your thoughts. And you gave that no mind. But it soon developed into something that tasted almost like a craving. You would find yourself glancing at the door when you knew he was on his way over. He started invading your dreams at night, leaving you to wake clammy and confused in the mornings. When he was busy finalizing a case at work while you were out with the rest of your friend group, you felt as if there was a piece missing. During movie nights, it was his form that you wanted to curl into--and you were always thrilled when he obliged, wrapping himself around you on the couch.

There were even moments when you thought your craving for him might be reciprocated, only to find the moment halted and stalled, never progressing past friendship. So you never pushed. You never pursued him.

And now his eyes are locking on yours, intense and searching.

If Tae is honest, he hasn’t considered it before. At least really, seriously considered it. He had always found you attractive, that was true, but since the moment he met you, the knowledge that you were the closest friend of his closest friends had him shoving down any thought of you in more than a platonic way. Even then, he couldn’t help ruminating on the little things you’d do—repeatedly tucking the same piece of stray hair behind your ear, or the way you swing your heels over your shoulder after a long night out and skip down the city concrete, or how you’d try to claim objects by licking them. He would find himself grinning from ear to ear at your smallest moments of delight. But that’s normal for friends, right? Especially one as delightful as you.

But now now that the thought is out there, the idea of you with Jin or Jungkook or Jimin—your legs wrapped around their waist as they kiss slowly down your neck, your hands pressed against their cheeks, holding them so tenderly—you with anyone else, really, doing any of that. It sets off something tight and painful in his stomach. He hates it.

His eyes narrow with the thought, and you catch it, confused by the sallow expression on his face.

“Tae—?” you blurt out before you realize what you’re saying. You had meant to simply call his name, not answer with it.

“TAE!” Jungkook hollers. The boys explode into hoots of laughter. “I can’t even imagine that!”

You’re in shock.

“I mean… I mean all of you,” you add, trying to diffuse the situation.

“ALL OF US!” Jungkook screams.

The laughter only escalates.

Your friends are cackling around you and all you can do is crack a weak smile.

“Well, I guess you know where to go when your next hookup falls through,” Jungkook tosses another beer can at Tae.

Tae chuckles.

“Could be worse, eh?”

He brings himself out of the mess of emotions swirling within and back to the present moment. To where you’re sitting across from him, beet red and looking wildly disappointed. Are you disappointed with the options for a FWB set in front of you? Are you disappointed in his response?

Still, the slight pout resting on your lips has him wondering how anyone could ever make sulking look cute.

“Well, Taetae, as entertaining as that was, it’s now your turn.” Jin claps his hands, rubbing his palms together in the same manner as when he’s getting ready to prepare one of his famous five-course meals.

“Uh, it’s definitely not m—”

“Truth or dare,” Jin orders.

“Fine. Dare,” Tae says, thinking he dodged the bullet unlike you.

“Okay. Kiss.”

It’s now Tae’s turn to spit his beer out. It feels like your heart stops in your chest.

“Uh, no—what? That’s not fair—that’s not—what?”

“Definitely fair,” Jungkook intercepts Tae’s fumbling. “It’s truth or dare. It’s not truth or dare without someone kissing someone.”

“True. You can kiss anyone. It’s up to you. Does that make it fairer?” Jimin adds.

Tae purses his lips. Then, answers, “Fine. I, uh—” his eyes flicker to yours, and excitement sparks in your belly. Is this it? Is it really that easy? You feel a smile spread across your lips. But then his eyes dart away and he grins, “Jimin, my friend, smoochy, smoochy.” He makes grabby hands in the air.

Jimin’s mouth falls open and he looks between the two of you.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

The young men lean into the circle and reach for each other. Jimin’s hand comes to gently cup Tae’s cheek as they press together, their features softening as their lips move in sync. You can’t deny they look beautiful like this. When they pull away from the lingering kiss, a rosey wash has started to creep up Jimin’s neck and Tae is grinning from ear to ear.

“A round of applause!” Jin cheers.

You clap as Tae grabs his beer to polish off the rest of it, before rubbing at your red cheeks, hoping that those pesky tell-tales will fade into nothingness. You feel surprised at the disappointment that bubbles up in you. Had you expected that his kind gaze meant he wanted to kiss you?

You don’t want it. You don’t want to be disappointed over such an inconsequential game, you don’t want to deal with the confusing and unnamable desire that you’ve been pushing down for years—and you definitely don’t want to be stuck replaying an unending reel of the delightful blush that crept up Teahyung’s neck when you called his name.

But that seems to be exactly where you are: disappointed and stuck. There’s really only one way out.

“I’m jumping,” you state as you stand.

Earlier in the day, Jimin had promised to hold your hand when you finally jumped off the cliff, knowing how much it terrified you. But now, with your face burning and your hands balled into tiny fists, there was no ounce of fear left in your body.

“Wha—” Jin floundered. “Now?”

“Yep, now,” you said as you peel off the little remaining clothes you’re wearing. There’s half a thought in your mind to be sexy while undressing, but instead, your shirt gets stuck on your head.

The noise of the men jostling and joking behind you fades as you stride over to the cliff edge. You look over your toes gripping the edge into the dark water below you. There was something about that kind of darkness—unseeable, unknowable—just waiting for you to dive straight into it. A pulse of adrenaline shoots through your body, raising goosebumps on your skin despite the mid-summer heat.

In a second, body and mind align. Yes, there’s fear. And there’s also something else, some kind of song, a call to tip yourself off the edge and into the unknown. It sings up to you, it sings you forward. You push through the fear. You push through and—

Jump.

It feels like you’re flying, your heart expanding into every corner of your body. The world becomes sharper. The wind around you feels like a blanket, the fading sun like a caress.

Deep breath in. Hold it.

It’s effortless.

The next thing you know you’re hitting the sublime coolness of the water, plunging into the darkness that waits.

It’s consuming, this darkness, this coldness.

It wraps heavy around your limbs, sparking energy, delight, life in you. You could exist here, weightless, suspended in between the feeling of being consumed by something larger than you and the sense of absolute presence.

It’s not long before your lungs start to ache and you resentfully kick to the surface.

As the water parts around your face, you are hit with the warmth of the sun and you can’t help but smile, endorphins pulsing through your body. You paddle away from the center just in time to hear the echoing whoops above you and look up to see, one by one, the rest of the group plummeting into the swimming hole. The water becomes turbulent and choppy around you, lifting your body and swaying you in the small waves.

As you watch each of your friends pop up from the dark water, shaking the water from their hair and eyes, a second thrill zaps through you.

“You did it!” Jimin exclaims, swimming over to you to hug you from behind. Jimin rocks you back and forth in excitement and you giggle at the awkwardness of his movements. “I’m so proud of you. You didn’t even look scared when you jumped!”

Taehyung is the last to dive off the cliff and the last to pop up out of the water. When he does, the first thing he is met with is the sight of Jimin wrapped around you, your head thrown back in laughter as he praises you. His eyes narrow at the sight, that same fiery discomfort from before burning in his gut.

Jimin lifts his face from where he’d buried it in your hair to glance over at Taehyung to ask him if--but the words turn cold in his mouth at the sight before him. His friend is gaping at you, eyebrows furrowed, and some emotion between anger and desire simmering in his eyes.

“Tae?” Jimin calls unsurely.

Tae’s eyes snap into focus and the tension on his face begins to melt. He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by Jungkook’s dark head popping up between the three of you, a pair of goggles strapped too tightly to his face--so tightly that they pull his eyes down comically.

“Guys! I found a GoPro!” he gasps, flipping the goggles up to reveal the red suction rings around his eyes. He must have somehow managed to dive down to the floor of the swimming hole because indeed, he’s holding an expensive and dripping camera in his hands.

The five of you spend the next half-hour diving, swimming, and floating in the cool water. Jungkook continues to dive, each time bringing up his finds to show you all. He finds two more GoPros, a water-logged watch, and an old flip phone and proudly displays his growing collection of treasures on a boulder in the middle of the water. Taehyung seems a little reserved to you, surprisingly quieter than his usual collected but boisterous self.

“Who’s going to bring our shit down from the cliff?” Jimin asks as you all are getting ready to head back to the lake to set up camp.

“I’ll get it!” Jungkook, ever the energizer bunny, yells from the water. He immediately starts paddling to the shore before leaping out and sprinting up the steep trail barefoot.

The rest of you start to make your way to shore where a precarious stack of towels is waiting for you. You glance behind you to see Tae still floating on his back in the middle of the swimming hole, lost in thought. Just as you are turning around to swim back to him, the sun dips below the mountains, casting him and the water in a dusky gold film. You pause for a moment, admiring the way the light reflects off the water droplets on his face, seemingly covering him in specks of gold.

“Tae—are you coming?”

“Hm?” He lifts his head, effectively moving his body into an upright position again.

“We’re going,” you say softly.

Taehyung watches as you swim towards him. Your hair, darkened by the water and floating like silk strands around your shoulders, falls in your eyes and around your shoulders. You can’t help but grin at him as you near him and reach out to grab his hand. With his fingers intertwined in yours, he automatically stretches out with his free hand to tug on a strand of hair that has gotten stuck in your mouth. His gaze glides along the slight pout of your lips, the lovely dip of your cupid’s bow, the gentle shadow beneath your lower lip.

As Taehyung meets your eyes, your cheeks fill with the prettiest blush he has ever seen, like a dusty rose. You’ve noticed his lingering stare. Despite your blooming cheeks, you hold his gaze, tilt your head, and let the smallest smile play across your lips.

That’s the moment he knows.

He wants you, unapologetically.

tag list (let me know if you’d like to be added): @dontaskshhhhh @myimaginationsrunningwild

masterlist || ao3 || next chapter ->

#ksmutclub #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #tae smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts fic #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #fluff #bts fluff #kim taehyung #v #bts

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