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wheels-of-despair · 2 months ago

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Firsts Pairing: Sam (Warfare) x You Summary: Once upon a time, a girl met a boy... Contains: Best friends, questionable humor, family tragedies, fluff, subpar parenting, falling in love, and a lot of story packed into one fic. Words: 8k

Note: This is the starting point for The Sam Series. This covers the early years, and spans from 1989-1994. Future installations will probably come in the form of (much shorter) blurbs, and take place in a post-Warfare world. I have gone out of my way to make Fic Sam as different from The Real Guy as possible, and ask that if you know that real guy, you pretend that you never saw this. I solemnly swear that it's about that annoying little British twerp, just like every other dumb story I've written.

The First Encounter July 1989 / Age 13

Your heart jumped into your throat at the sound of something massive crashing through the underbrush.

It was coming right at you.

You dropped your battered paperback and flattened yourself against the rotting floor of the treehouse, hoping to go unnoticed.

What was it, you wondered? A herd of deer? A bear? Someone on the run from the law? It wouldn't hurt to sneak a little peek, would it? You were up high. You were safe… enough.

You inched closer to the edge in a careful army crawl, hoping your curiosity wouldn't leave you with splinters in your knees and elbows. The sound of cracking twigs and rustling bushes got closer. Louder. It was nearly on you.

And then, it stopped.

You held your breath, heart pounding, not daring to peek over the edge just yet.

More rustling. A crack. A whoosh. A thunk. A grunt? What the hell was going on down there?! You lifted your head slightly, but couldn't see anything over the edge. You inched forward, as silently as you could, and finally saw the source of all the noise:

A teenage boy, beating a tree with its own branch.

"COCK! SUCKING! DICKLESS! MOTHER! FUCKER!" the boy yells, punctuating each word with another hit to the tree trunk.

He's wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. It's a different color down his spine, where he's been sweating in the summer heat. His hair is close cropped and kind of… blonde, maybe? You'd guess he's around your age; probably thirteen or fourteen.

And then he turns to you, eyes ablaze, like he knew you'd been watching all this time.

"The fuck are you lookin' at?"

His voice is sharp, but for some reason, you're not afraid.

"A teenage boy throwing a tantrum," you answer.

His eyes narrow.

"I'd give it an eight out of ten," you smirk. He stares at you for a moment; calculating, but not cold.

"Only an eight?" he asks eventually, tossing the branch aside and crossing his arms. "Why only an eight?"

"There's a rust-bucket graveyard beyond the thicket," you point in its direction. "Probably a window or two left that you could've smashed."

"Damn," he says mournfully.

"Maybe next time," you grin.

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he wants to smile.

"What are you doing up there?" he asks.

"Reading," you answer. "Well, I was. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Oh, this is yours?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Don't tell the tax-man," you tease.

He laughs. You find yourself smiling at his goofy chuckle.

"I'm Sam," he says.

You introduce yourself, and he nods.

"You can come up if you want," you offer. "I think it'll hold both of us, if you're done tantrum-ing for the day."

"You sure?" he asks, eyeing the tree warily.

"Nope," you answer. "But if you're feeling brave, the stairs are around this way."

You gesture toward the side of the tree, and he walks there. He grunts, and a few seconds later, he's scaling the boards that someone nailed into the trunk long before you claimed this treehouse as your own.

"Treehouse" is a generous term for your little sanctuary. The floor is made of brittle boards that have seen much better days. You live in constant fear of having to ask someone to pick a splinter out of your ass. A sheet of metal that has grown into the surrounding branches serves as a roof. There are no sides or railings, unless you count the tree trunk and branches that support the structure. It's not very big; if you laid down in a starfish position and stretched, you could reach all four corners. But it's been here for so long, it blends into the scenery nicely. It's a great hiding place.

Not that anyone ever bothers to come looking for you.

The boy's head pops into view, and you're taken aback by how pretty he is. Big brown eyes, red cheeks, the most adorable nose, and a scar on his forehead.

"Are you part squirrel?" you ask.

"What?" he laughs.

"It took you like three seconds to get up here!"

"It was easy!"

You scoff and reach for your book, trying to find where you left off so you can dog-ear the page… and look away before you start blushing.

"So is this like… your hideout?" he asks.

"Yeah, top secret," you deadpan. "Very exclusive. It's why I had to put you on the wait list to get in."

He snorts.

"My house is… a lot," you explain, although you're not sure why. You just met the guy. "Grew up an only child, and then last year, my dad got remarried and now I have five siblings who are always screaming for one reason or another."

"Jeez," he says, blowing out a long breath. "And here I was, thinking that having to share a house with a hippie sucked."

"A hippie household could very well suck," you grin. He returns it.

"I usually live with my dad and my grandma," he says. "He's a SEAL."

"The clappy kind, or the Navy kind?" you ask.

Sam snorts.

"The Navy kind," he clarifies with a good-natured roll of his eyes. "Anyway, Mom divorced Dad and immediately married his complete opposite, AKA the biggest douchebag on the planet, and now I have to spend two weeks with them every summer. So… here I am."

"How long into your sentence are you?" you ask.

"I got here yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"Yesterday."

"You got here yesterday, and you're already storming off into the woods to throw tantrums about this guy?!"

"Yeah," he sighs. "It's gonna be a long-ass two weeks."

"Well…" you begin, suddenly more nervous than when you first heard him crashing toward you. "I'm out here most of the time, if you ever want company. Or if you wanna to explore town, I could show you around. Even though there's not really much to see."

"Yeah?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face.

"Yeah," you confirm.

This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The First Reunion July 1990 / Age 14

"Lucy, I'm hooome!"

You drop your book and scramble to the edge of the rickety treehouse to see Sam grinning in the clearing. He'd managed to sneak up on you this time, since he'd come through the dirt path like a civilized human instead of stomping through the brush like he did the first time you met him.

"Ugh, not again," you grin.

"Again!" he says enthusiastically, clamoring up the side of the tree and dropping down next to you.

"How've you been, Squirrel Boy?"

"Better, now that I'm not in a confined space with that ponytailed jackass," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Gonna chop that stupid thing off one of these days. And you, Bookworm? How's life?"

"Fine," you laugh, shoving your book back into your bag. Sam is just about the only person you'd pick over this one. "It rained all last week and I was stuck inside with them, so things are considerably better today. Outside! Sunshine! Silence! Except for that annoying boy from last summer, ugh."

"You adore me," he scoffs, leaning back against the tree trunk that serves as a wall and making himself comfortable.

"Hungry?" you ask, knowing he's right.

"Always."

You slide your little plastic cooler closer, undo the bungee cords that keep the critters out, and slide open the top.

"Ta-daaa!"

Sam leans over and plucks out an oatmeal pie.

"Love what you've done with the place," he grins, ripping into the plastic. "The kitchen is a nice touch. Did you win the lottery?"

"No," you grin, picking out a snack of your own. "But I do make a few bucks here and there by baby-sitting."

"Who'd let you watch their kids?!" he asks with a mouth full.

"Fuck you, I'm a great baby-sitter," you scoff.

Sam laughs.

"What are we gonna do this summer?"

"Let's see…" you ponder, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "We'll start by playing a few rounds with Muffy and Buffy at the golf course. Or maybe the tennis club! Then probably a dip in my new pool with the rest of our pals. Perhaps a tea party or an ice cream social in the afternoon, before our usual ballroom dancing?"

"Splendid, darling, simply splendid," he grins. There's a fleck of oatmeal on his bottom lip.

"Or we can hide out in the woods or hang at the lake all day and avoid our families," you shrug. "Up to you."

"Yeah, that sounds more like it," he chuckles. "Wanna learn some new survival skills?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I will absolutely not be drinking urine, no matter how purified it is?"

"Not that," Sam laughs, knocking your knee with his. "Building shelters and traps and weapons. Dad taught me some really cool stuff last time he was home."

"Okay," you grin.

You're always up for learning new things from Sam.

The First Hug August 1990 / Age 14

"Well, it's been fun, but uh… guess I better go."

You're standing in the clearing below the treehouse. Sam's getting on a bus in an hour and going back to his Grandma's house. He didn't have time to go up and hang out today. He just came to say goodbye.

"Yeah," you smile, missing him already.

"See ya," he says, giving you a slow-motion shoulder punch before turning to leave.

Now or never.

"Wait."

Sam turns around with a quirked eyebrow.

"Can I… uh…" Out with it, idiot. "Can I write to you?"

"What?"

"Can I write to you?" you ask, a little louder and a little clearer. "Kinda feel like we'd both get murdered if we tried calling long-distance, but I can spare a quarter for a stamp."

"You wanna write to me?" he asks, eyes sparkling and lips quirked into an amused smile. "Why do you wanna write to me?"

Because he's your only friend. Because you've been looking forward to these two weeks together for a year, and now they're over. Because you don't want to say goodbye to the only person who gets you. Because if he forgets about you, you'll die.

"Because I kinda miss your punk-ass when you're gone, alright?!" you huff.

His face splits into a grin.

"Awwwwww," he coos.

"Shut up."

"You loooooooove me."

"I take it back," you laugh.

"There's no take-backs!" he cackles, bounding toward you. You shy away and cover your burning face, but his arms wrap around you and hold you in an unwilling hug from the side. "You loooooove me, you miss me when I'm not here to annooooooy you, you want to wriiiiiiite to me!" he taunts, right in your ear.

"Not anymore, I don't!" you laugh, trying to wiggle away from him. He won't let you go.

"Gimme something to write on," he whispers, his voice hot in your ear.

You both still. You look up at him, and he loosens his grip on you.

You swallow hard and reach into your bag with a shaky hand for a tiny spiral-bound notebook and a pencil. You hand them to him.

Sam puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around, pressing the pad to your back so he can write on it. It's a thick little book. He could've done this in the palm of his hand. But you appreciate this few extra seconds of contact nonetheless.

"You next," he orders, handing you the book and turning around.

You flip the page and press the notebook to his back, just like he'd done to you. You write down your address, tear out the page, and hand it to him.

"See you next summer?" you ask.

"See you next summer," he smiles.

"ELMER!" a shrill voice calls through the woods.

He flinches.

You raise an eyebrow, and before your mouth can turn into a smirk, he covers it with his hand.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" you ask, your voice muffled by his hand.

"I catch enough hell in school for it, I don't need to hear it from you too."

The desperation in his voice makes every tease and taunt you'd been planning to unleash upon him simply disappear. You're not like them, just like he's not like the bitches in school you have to deal with. You're better than that, both of you. You nod. He takes his hand away from your mouth and looks at you nervously.

"See you next summer, Sam," you whisper.

He looks relieved.

"See you next summer."

The First Invitation July 1991 / Age 15

Your ears perk up at the sound of footfalls.

You drop your book and rise from your seat on the stump across the clearing from your treehouse. He told you in his last letter what day he'd be arriving, and you'd started a Sam Countdown on the calendar hanging on your bedroom wall.

He's here. Sam's back.

You hadn't even bothered climbing into the treehouse, because you wanted to tackle him in a hug as soon as you saw him. Well, you hoped you'd have the metaphorical balls to do it, and you hoped he didn't resist.

Seconds later, he appears.

You stare at each other for a few seconds, taking in a year's worth of growth and changes. His hair's shorter than it was last time you saw him. He's taller. Broader.

But a smile starts working its way across his face, and when it reaches his eyes, you can't stand it anymore.

You both move at the same time, closing the distance and wrapping each other in a hug. It's been great sending letters back and forth throughout the year, but nothing compares to having him here in the flesh.

"Miss me?" he asks.

"Nope," you lie.

"Liar."

"Maybe," you grin, pulling back to look at him again.

"You've been looking forward to today all year," he says cockily.

"Have not," you scoff.

"Have too."

"And what if I have? What are you going to do about it?" you challenge.

Sam laughs and reaches for his belt, where he's tied a large plastic sack of cookies.

"Grandma told me to give these to you," he says, handing you the bag.

"Sam's Ass Cookies? I'm so honored," you gasp, holding the warm bag like you're showing off an Oscar.

"Adds flavor," he grins.

"Wanna go up?" you ask, nodding toward the treehouse.

"Ladies first," he says, bowing and gesturing for you to go ahead with a sweep of his arm.

"You just wanna stare at my ass," you grumble, putting the top of the bag between your teeth before beginning your climb.

Between the rustle of the plastic and the creak of the wooden "steps" nailed to the tree trunk, you could have imagined it. But you think you heard a "maybe" mumbled from below. You grin around the plastic, careful not to drop it.

Once settled next to each other, you sigh happily, grateful to be in your favorite place with your favorite person again. You open the bag of cookies and place it between you. Sam lets you take the first, then reaches for a cookie of his own.

"Mmmm," you moan when you first bite into it. "Chocolatey. Chippy. There's something else, though…"

"Love?" he suggests.

"The ass of a teenage boy," you grin.

"I'm telling my Grandma that you said her cookies taste like ass," he scoffs.

"You gonna say ass in front of her?" you grin.

Sam pales, quickly reconsiders, then stuffs the entire cookie in his mouth so he doesn't have to answer.

"How's she doing?" you ask.

"She's good," he answers, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to keep the crumbs from spraying out.

You lean forward and reach for the little cooler you keep up here, extracting a lukewarm can of Coke and popping the top. You hand it to him, and he washes his cookie down with it.

"Dad's been gone a long time," he explains, setting the can on the board between you. "And there's a lot to do at the house, but I'm doing the best I can. Been busting my ass for the last two weeks, trying to get everything fixed enough so it doesn't break before I get back."

You smile at him fondly.

"What?"

"It's sweet," you shrug.

"It needs to get done," he shrugs back. "Dad would swim home and beat both our asses if he found out I let Grandma get up on a ladder and clean out the gutters at her age."

You chuckle.

Sam grins.

"She wants to meet you, by the way," he says, reaching for another cookie. "If Dad's not home by Christmas, I might see if we can come here to visit."

"What would she think about Step-Dick's hippie food?" you grin.

Sam's Grandma is old-school; she grows and cans her own vegetables. She never visits a neighbor without bringing fresh-cut flowers or a basket of eggs, and even kills her own chickens when the time comes. Sam's step-father, on the other hand, drives an hour to an organic grocery store every week and enforces a strict no-animal-byproducts policy in his house. Sam avoids starvation by smuggling in Slim Jims and beef jerky and sneaking off for burgers with you.

"Oh my god, she'd lose it at the sight of tofurkey," Sam cackles. "Bless his heart," he says in an impersonation of the woman you've exchanged brief pleasantries with on the phone a grand total of twice. Damn those long distance rates. "No wonder that poor boy ain't right in the head, this food ain't fit for a hog!"

"I would pay big money to see that," you laugh.

"Oh, you're definitely coming," Sam grins. Your heart swells at the thought of getting to spend Christmas with him, and meet the Grandma he loves so much. "No payment required. Unless you wanna smuggle in a turkey."

"Well there's an image," you laugh. "Is that a turkey leg in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?"

You both howl with laughter.

The First Breakdown November 1991 / Age 15

The sound of leaves crunching pulls you from the letter you're writing.

Your mind jumps to Sam.

Of course it does. He's the only one who ever comes to see you out here. He's also the one you're writing to. He's two letters behind in your bi-weekly correspondence, and if you find out he's ditched you for a girl, you're going to kill him, and then die of a broken heart.

But Sam only left three months ago. It'll be nine more before you see him again. Who's traipsing around in your woods, and what business do they have sounding like him?

You peek over the side of the treehouse, sturdier now that Sam has been learning the construction business with one of his dad's friends when he's not in school. A dark cloud in a denim jacket enters the clearing.

"Sam?"

He looks up.

But he looks different.

You drop your notebook and pen and climb down as quickly as you can.

He hasn't moved.

So you go to him, stopping an arm's length away.

His eyes and nose are red. His posture, defeated.

"Why are you here?" you breathe.

He crumbles.

You throw your arms around him, holding him tight while his body heaves and trembles. You've never seen him cry before.

You stand there, holding him, too afraid to move. His tears saturate your flannel shirt. His sobs echo through the woods. And you have no idea what's wrong, or how to make it better.

When his sobs subside and his grip on you loosens, you pull back to look at him. Your hands instinctively reach for his face. Your thumbs wipe away his tears, but another stream replaces them immediately.

"Dad died," he whispers.

"Oh, Sam," you breathe.

He buries his face in your neck, clinging to you again. You hold him through the next wave, and then lead him to a nearby stump. He stumbles; his eyes are too wet and swollen to see straight. You guide him down and sit next to him. Your arm finds its way around his back. You're afraid to let him go.

Sam leans forward, elbows on his knees. He takes a few deep, shuddering breaths, and starts speaking to the dead leaves littering the ground.

"Dad came home in a box," he says emotionlessly. "And the day we put him in the ground, Grandma had a stroke. They said there's not a lot of hope for a full recovery at her age. I wanted to take her home. It's where she would want to be. Grandpa built that house for her. It's where he's buried. She's lived there over fifty years. But Mom still has power of attorney, so she had Grandma put in a home. I could have done it," his voice wavers. "I could have taken care of her."

"I know," you whisper, resting your chin on his shoulder. "You've always taken good care of her, Sam."

"Tell that to them," he chokes out. "Now Grandma's in some old folks' home with a bunch of strangers, and I'm stuck here with these assholes 'til I turn 18."

Before you can react, he clarifies: "Not you."

"I know," you whisper, rubbing his back in what you hope is a comforting gesture. "It's not long now, though. You'll be out of here before you know it. And then you can take Grandma home and get her back in her rocking chair where she belongs."

Sam chokes out a sob, and you wrap both arms around him.

"It's gonna be okay," you tell him.

"No, it's not," he sniffles, sitting up and shaking off your embrace. "Dad's gone. Grandma's as good as. Those people don't know how to take care of her. They don't know what she needs, and I can't do anything about it. Mom could, but doesn't give a fuck about anything but that douchebag. I've got nobody."

"You've got me," you whisper.

He looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since he entered the clearing, and your heart breaks. You've never seen him look so defeated. You didn't think anything could ever break your Sam.

Your Sam.

"I'm here," you say slowly, "And I know I don't have a whole lot to offer, other than snacks and the occasional sarcastic comment, but I'm here for you, Sam, no matter what. And I always will be."

"Why?"

It only hurts a little that he has to ask.

"Because you're the best friend I've ever had."

Sam stares into your eyes for a moment. You can feel the pain in them. If you could take it from him and make it yours, you would. You'd do anything for him.

He opens his arms, and you share another embrace. A little drier this time.

"You're my best friend, too," he whispers.

The First Sacrifice November 1992 / Age 16

"Sweetie? There's someone at the door who wants to speak to you."

You look around your bedroom, thinking that your step-mother must be talking to someone else. She's never called you sweetie before. And who the heck would be looking for you, other than Sam? He's never come to the front door. On the rare occasion that you weren't already in the woods that separate your house from his, he'd come into the back yard and throw a rock at your window to get your attention. Then you'd come out and meet him.

Maybe he tried, and you didn't hear the rock over the rain?

You close your history book and rise from the bed, padding quietly to the front door in your socks. A chill runs up your spine when you see who's waiting for you.

"Hello," Sam's mother smiles tensely, water dripping from her bright yellow raincoat onto the rug. "Have you seen Sam today?"

No, you haven't. Is that the correct answer? Does he need an alibi? Did he finally snap on that douchebag step-dad of his? Does she think he's hiding under your bed?

"No?"

She sighs.

"If you see him, will you please tell him to come home?"

"Did something happen?"

She purses her lips, like she's debating if it's worth telling you or not.

"He heard a message on our answering machine that he wasn't meant to hear," she says. "The nursing home called about his grandmother."

"Is she alright?" you ask. Pursed lips again.

"She's ill," she says nonchalantly. "As the elderly often are. There's nothing we can do from here but pray. She's surrounded by the best professional caregivers in the area. But of course, Sam overreacted, just like his father would have. He hit my husband for trying to calm him down, and then he stormed out. He didn't even take his coat. Do you know where he might be?"

Sam's trying to hop a bus or catch a train to see his Grandma, that's where he is.

"Probably the woods," you answer. "That's where he goes to calm down. He'll probably come home when he cools off."

"Even in this rain?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Sam's quite the outdoorsman. If he can't find shelter, he can make it."

"Alright," she sniffs. "We'll wait before contacting the police, then. Thank you for your help."

"Yes, ma'am."

She says goodbye to your step-mother, who's been lurking in the doorway behind you, and pulls up her hood and leaves. You watch out the window until her car disappears down the road.

And then you reach for your rain jacket.

"Where do you think you're going?" your step-monster asks.

"To find Sam and tell him to go home," you lie.

"Not until your homework is finished."

"It is."

"It didn't look like it, when I came to fetch you."

Fuck's sake.

"I was on the last question."

"I don't think so, young lady. Go finish your homework, and then maybe you can go out when it stops raining."

You put the jacket back on the hook, march to your bedroom, and shut the door.

Sam. You have to get to Sam. And Sam has to get to Grandma.

You open your window and look down into the muddy yard.

This would be easier with shoes and a jacket. You throw on a hoodie you stole from Sam. He didn't even take his coat, you remember. You put a denim jacket on over top of his hoodie, hoping to keep it from getting completely soaked before you can give it back to him. What else would he need for his daring escape?

When you're suited up and ready to go, you slide out the window and into the mud. Your bike, leaning against the side of the house, won't give you much of an advantage if he's actually running away instead of walking, but you hop on it and start pedaling anyway.

You keep your head down, feeling the raindrops pummel the back of your neck and drip down your front. Your jeans are soaked entirely, but that doesn't matter. Sam matters. You have to get to Sam.

Fifteen minutes later, the Greyhound station comes into view. You squint into the distance, hoping to spot him.

There he is. He leaning against the brick building with his arms crossed over his chest. No jacket, just like his mom said; just a soaked baseball tee. At least the rain has gone from a deafening downpour to a steady stream.

"Sam," you breathe, in a sigh of relief, speeding toward him. Your voice must carry on the cool breeze, because his head snaps up and his eyes lock on you. You hop off of your bike when you near the sidewalk, and rush to him without looking back to see where it landed.

You crash into each other, holding on desperately.

"Grandma's sick," he shivers. "I have to get down there. I have to see her."

"I know," you whisper, holding him tight and hoping to transfer the last of your warmth to him. "Your mom came to my house looking for you."

He tenses.

"I told her you were probably in the woods, and that you'd come home eventually."

"Yeah, so that son of a bitch can have me arrested," he grumbles. "Hope I broke his fucking nose. Said 'if it's her time, it's her time'."

"I hope you broke his fucking nose, too."

He pulls back to look at you, his brown eyes flooded with emotion. Your heart pounds. Your hands shake. Maybe from being cold and wet, maybe from fearing the fallout from what you're about to do.

A bus pulls into the station with a spray of filthy water, its brakes whooshing loudly. Sam glances to it, then back to the ticket window. The rain picks up again.

"I'm short," he says, loudly so you can hear him over the downpour. "I was so mad when I left, I didn't think to grab anything. All I have is what's in my wallet. I don't have enough for a ticket."

"Yeah, you do," you tell him, pulling a damp envelope from your pocket and pushing it to his chest. "Take this."

His hand closes around the package, and he looks down at it. His eyes flick to yours.

"This is your college fund."

"This is more important," you insist.

"You've been saving this for--"

"Take it."

"You can't--"

"I just did," you cut him off stubbornly.

Sam sighs and licks his lips as he contemplates. A few passengers shuffle off the bus and into the rain, and he exhales. His mind is made. He kisses your forehead and bounds to the ticket window to get ahead of the other passengers. You shed your heavy denim jacket and take off the hoodie. They're both soaked. You're attempting, in vain, to wring it out when he returns with a ticket in his hand, for the bus that's just arrived. It'll leave again as soon as it refuels. And then he'll be gone for… you don't know how long.

"Put this on," you order, holding the wet hoodie out so he can slide into it. At least it's not dripping like his shirt. He obeys, much to your surprise. He gives you an appreciative smile when his head emerges.

"Here," he offers, holding out the envelope. "I'll pay you back for the ticket."

"No," you argue, pushing it to his chest. "It's a long way. You gotta eat. We'll settle up after you start making the big bucks."

He nods and puts the envelope in his pocket. You stare at each other for half a second. Then, he strikes like a cobra, pulling you in for a tight hug.

"Love you," he mutters into your wet hair.

"Love you, too," you breathe, squeezing him tight and wishing you could stay together forever. But you can't. You know you can't. You pull back and look into his eyes, knowing it's time. "Now go."

Sam hesitates. But then, he reaches for your face and plants a kiss on your lips. Before you can even begin to process what just happened, he's disappeared up the steps of the Greyhound.

You hope the driver is kind enough to put on the heat for him.

The First (Real) Kiss September 1993 / Age 17

"Are we together?"

You stop chewing and turn your head slowly to Sam, mouth still full of burger, and stare. He's looking ahead, at the streetlights of the town below. The football stadium is lit too, because it's game night. Not that either of you cares. The crowd who does roars in the distance. But you and Sam? You're sitting on the tailgate of his rusty little pickup, eating burgers and fries like you do every Friday night.

"Like how?" you mumble, suddenly remembering that there's food in your mouth, and it needs to be chewed.

Sam rolls his neck toward you, giving you A Look.

"Don't make me say it."

"Don't make you say what?" you ask, finally swallowing. You drop the rest of your burger back to its wrapper and focus on him.

His eyes are pleading.

Are you together? You've often wondered this, too.

After his grandma died and his mom went down to take care of the funeral and drag him home, he wasn't the same. He was so quiet and broody, the year-long grounding his mom and step-dad settled on as punishment for running away was quickly forgotten. You suspect it's because they simply wanted his miserable ass out of their house. They finally let him get a job. They didn't object when he saved up enough to buy his own truck. They even let you come over to work on homework or watch movies sometimes.

But Sam wasn't that goofy kid you met in the woods anymore. You were able to coax the fun side of him out every once in a while, but he'd grown so serious in the last year. Now that he didn't have a grandmother to stick around and take care of, he'd decided to follow his childhood dream of becoming a Navy SEAL, just like his dad. (Much to the disdain of his hippie step-father.) When he wasn't in school, he spent most of his time lugging boxes and stocking shelves at the grocery store where you were a cashier, or training in the woods. You'd coordinated schedules so you could ride to and from work together. During training sessions, you were in charge of the stopwatch while he ran and did push-ups and tried to beat his own record of holding his breath underwater in the lake.

At least you were together.

Right. His question.

"Do you want to be together?" you ask.

Sam doesn't answer.

"Oookay," you say. "Let's try something easier: What brought this on?"

Sam glances at you, then takes a giant bite of burger to buy more time. You wait less than patiently as he chews.

"Today after bio," he says after swallowing, "Jennifer asked me if I had a date to the homecoming dance."

Your blood runs cold. Of course the biggest slut in your grade has set her sights on Sam now. She's already worked her way through everyone else. He's not going to fall for this, is he? He's not going to think with his dick like the rest of those idiots you go to school with?

"And what did you tell her?" you ask, afraid of the answer.

"The bell rang and I told her I'd talk to her later."

"And did you?"

Sam cuts his eyes at you and smirks, and you know the answer before he tells you: "Dodged her."

You fight a smile and reach for a fry… at the same time he does. Your hands brush, and you try to pretend like it didn't bother you at all. You stare at the lights in the distance and munch, knowing damn well you still have a question that needs answering.

"It would make sense," Sam says.

"Being together?" you ask quietly.

He nods. And then he sighs deeply.

"I just don't want things to change, y'know?"

"What has to change?"

"You don't treat your girlfriend the same way as your best friend."

"Says who?" you challenge.

"The world."

"What would change, then?" you ask.

You wouldn't mind a little bit of change, to be honest. You often find yourself aching for his touch. You don't play fight and push each other around like you used to. If you really were together…

"I just…" Sam sighs, bringing you back to reality. "You're like the only person I can count on. I don't want to fuck that up."

"What makes you think we're going to fuck it up?"

More silence. Lovely.

"Look," you sigh. "I love you. I always have, and I always will. And I'll always be there for you, just like I promised. No matter what. That cannot be fucked up. I just…" Dammit. What are you trying to say? That you want more? That you'll never love anyone else? That you've convinced yourself that if he was interested, he would have made a move already? "I don't know if you love me the way that I love you."

The air suddenly feels to heavy to breathe in.

"How do you love me?" he asks.

You see your entire relationship flash before your eyes, from the minute he came stomping into your neck of the woods, to the joy you felt every time you'd find a letter from him in the mailbox, to the time you panicked and dove into the water fully-clothed during a breath-holding test to drag his stubborn ass out… to tonight, when he picked you up and ordered your usual without even having to ask.

"Completely," you breathe.

Something changes in Sam's face. You hold your breath, not knowing what it means. And you are pretty damn good at knowing what his annoying little mood shifts mean. He leans forward. What is he…

Sam's lips meet yours, on the tailgate of his rusty little pickup, on a hill looking down at the town you reluctantly grew up in together, on a Friday night while everyone else your age screams about sports in the stadium below.

And suddenly, none of that matters in the slightest.

Sam pulls back a bit. Just enough to look into your eyes. You're not done yet. This time, you're the one who lurches forward, pulling him to you with a hand on his jaw. He moans into your mouth, and it reverberates through your whole body. You can't believe you've been missing out on this the whole time.

When you part again, pupils blown and cheeks flushed and breath shaky, you both chuckle.

"Guess we answered that question," he grins.

Your heart feels like it's going to burst.

And it's not because of all the grease you just ate.

The First Proposal April 1994 / Age 17

"Talked to the recruiter again today," Sam says casually.

"Yeah?" you ask, half-listening as you edit his English paper on the couch in his living room. His mom and step-dick won't be home for another hour. Which is when you usually decide to leave. You love Sam, but not enough to stick around for a dinner of mung beans, or whatever overpriced garbage they're obsessed with this week.

"Yeah," he repeats, pinching his fingers around the top of his essay and pulling it from you. You try grabbing it back, because you're not done, but you're not quick enough. "Jesus, did I do ANYTHING right? You're gonna run out of red ink if you keep this nitpicking up!"

"We all have our strengths, Sam," you smile, sitting sideways and patting his head condescendingly.

He lunges forward with a deadly attack hug, and you curl into a defensive ball and squeal like you always do. He gives you a squeeze and a nip on the shoulder before dropping back into his seat next to you.

"What about the recruiter?" you ask, coming out of your ball and nudging his thigh with your socked foot.

"Did you know the Navy pays for college?"

You nod.

"Not just for me, but like… if I had a kid… or a wife…"

Your stomach flips.

"We both know that life's not for me," he says, shifting so he's facing you. "But you… you're goin' places, kid."

You snort at his phrasing.

"I never forgot about what you did for me, you know…" his eyes soften. "You gave up your college fund for me."

"You paid me back," you remind him.

"I paid back the money," he says. "The gesture's a little harder."

"I was not aware that we were keeping score."

Sam sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" you ask.

"Do you wanna get hitched so you can get a full ride to college on Uncle Sam's dime?"

Your heart sinks. And then your blood boils. You suddenly feel the urge to kick him. You turn away and put your feet on the floor with such force, they sting. You'd have been better off kicking him.

"No."

"No?!"

"No," you repeat, angrily stuffing your things back into your backpack. Fuck his paper, fuck the math chapter he was supposed to walk you through tonight, and you know what? Fuck Sam, too.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving," you seethe. You stand, yank your backpack onto your shoulder, and march toward the door.

"What the hell?" Sam demands, right on your tail. He grabs your upper arm and spins you back to him. Your backpack falls and hits the floor. You clench your fists and glare at him, hoping he can feel his insides shrivel.

"What's your problem?" he asks.

You put your palms on his chest and shove. He doesn't move, except to grab both of your wrists. Bastard.

"What just happened?" he asks.

You don't answer.

"Because to me," he says with annoying calmness, lowering his head to make you stare into those big brown eyes of his, "I think I proposed a solution to a problem you've been worrying about since you learned how to read, and you got mad because…"

You feel your glare losing its power under his calming gaze.

No! Angry! Offended! Seconds away from ripping his throat out with your teeth!

"Because…?" he prompts.

How can he not see that this is quite possibly the worst thing he could have said to you? Does he think you only love him because you might get something out of it? Have you not been completely in love with him since you were 13 years old? Does he not know that he's your entire world? Where did you go wrong?

"I'm not gonna marry you for your benefits, Sam," you finally get out. It sounds awfully weak for a girl who was ready to commit murder a few seconds ago.

"Why not?"

Dammit. His eyes soften when he sees your eyes welling up. Not now, tears!

"Because if we get married," your voice wavers, "it's going to be because we love each other." You swallow. "We do love each other, right?"

"Of course we love each other," he scoffs, releasing your wrists. His brow furrows, and his hands cup your face. "You know I love you more than anyone. Of course that's why I want to marry you."

You're going to kill him.

"They why did you make it sound like a fucking transaction?!" you shout, pushing him again. This time, you catch him by surprise, and he rocks back on his heels and catches himself on the doorframe.

"I didn't!"

"You did!" You take an angry step toward him, and he backs away. You pursue him back into the living room, fists clenched and ready to throttle him. He keeps backing away, wide-eyed and maybe a little scared. "You made it sound like you were only thinking about marrying me so I could fuck off to college, and you'd have your imaginary debt cleared! We're not keeping score, idiot! This isn't a competition! We're in this because we fucking love each other!"

The backs of his knees hit the couch, and he falls onto it with an oof.

"Okay," he says, holding out his hands as a buffer between you. "Okay. When you put it like that, it sounds kinda bad."

"You think?!" you shriek.

Sam snorts. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sorry!" he laughs, then tries to make his face appear serious. "I'm sorry. You're adorable when you get mad."

You close your eyes, lift your chin to the ceiling, and sigh deeply. His hand closes around yours and gives a tug.

"C'mere," he says.

You look down to find him leaning forward on the couch, his hand in yours. You let him pull you onto him, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

"You exhaust me," you sigh.

"I know." You can hear the smirk in his voice. You nip that sensitive skin at the base of his neck in retaliation, and he jumps. You nuzzle back into him with a satisfied smile.

"So if I'd asked you to marry me, purely because I love you and adore you and want to spend my life with you, you'd have said yes?"

"Probably," you mumble.

"Even though you know I'm going to be gone a lot, doing dangerous shit that I can never tell you about?"

You sit up and look down into those beautiful eyes of his and nod.

"So can I ask now, or did I blow it for today?"

"Oh, you definitely blew it," you inform him. "You're gonna have to go all out now."

"Balls," he groans.

You laugh and bend back down to hold him tight.

"Love you," you whisper.

"Love you, too," he responds.

The First Grown-Up Goodbye September 1994 / Age 18

"Will you take care of this for me?" Sam asks, holding out his palm. A gold chain shimmers in the sunlight outside the bus station. His wedding ring is attached to it.

"Of course I will," you answer.

"Turn around," he whispers.

You do as he asks, and see the chain cross your field of vision as he puts it into position. He fumbles with the clasp for a moment, and then you feel him let go. The weight of his ring settles between your breasts. You try to turn back to him, but Sam hugs you from behind, trailing his nose up your neck and into your hair. You know what he's doing. You let him take his time.

Once he's had enough of your scent, his hand touches your shoulder and turns you back to him. He traces the chain down to his ring. It used to be his grandfather's. The matching one on your finger used to be his grandmother's. You'd exchanged them on a rainy Tuesday morning at the courthouse.

"You gonna be okay?" he asks.

His hands cup your face and tilt it upward to look at him. Concern clouds his eyes.

"Are you?" you whisper.

Your upcoming journey to college is nothing compared to what Sam's about to go through. You've read every piece of literature about Navy SEAL training you could get your hands on, and you have regrets. He's not going to be your Sam when he comes back to you. You know this. You saw the difference after a few weeks of basic. What would months upon months of the most intense military training in the world do to him?

"I'm gonna be fine," he smiles, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with his finger. "I was made for this, remember?"

You nod, remembering all the stories he'd told you about growing up with a SEAL dad. The Navy kind, not the clappy kind. You'd smile at the memory if your heart didn't ache so much.

"You gonna keep writing me letters?" he asks.

"Of course I am," you smile. "You're gonna be too tired to read 'em, but I'm gonna keep sending 'em anyway."

"Thank you," he breathes, eyes twinkling.

There's a clamor nearby as people start boarding the bus. You both look at them, then turn your eyes back to each other.

"You're gonna be fine," he whispers.

"So are you," you counter.

"I'll call you as soon as I can," he says.

You nod. His arms wrap around you and hold you tight. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, wanting one last whiff of him before he disappears for the better part of a year.

This is just like when you were kids, you try telling yourself. You saw each other for two weeks at a time and communicated by letters and the rare long-distance phone call for years, and still managed to fall in love. If all goes well, once he's out of training and assigned to a base, you'll transfer to a nearby school. Hell, you'll probably see him more then than you did in your early years.

And then, eventually, he'll get old and achy and retire and he can be yours forever. You'll have a degree and a kick-ass job, and he can relax and let you be the breadwinner for a while.

"Love you," he whispers, his breath warm in your hair.

"Love you too, Sam."

Mr. and Mrs. Sam will return in a few years!*

*It'll be years for them, but for us, it'll be more like days or weeks. All the future installations I currently have planned take place after the events of the movie, so we're jumping from 1994 to 2006. What did you miss, you might ask? Well, Sam's a SEAL. (The Navy kind, not the clappy kind.) Mrs. Sam has a degree and a job that keeps her busy when he's deployed. Which is a lot. Like, half their relationship a lot. Things are gonna get all shook up when he comes home, so let's not dwell on all the lonesome pining in between, eh? See you soon!

#writings of despair #sam warfare #sam warfare x reader #sam warfare x you

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lixiesbrowniess · 5 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒

Chapter Ⅰ

Professor!Jensen x Student!Fem!Reader

Reader is 22 Jensen is 35

Warnings: Nsfw, contains smut, angst, fluff, sexual tension, shyness, age gap, brat!fem/brat tamer!male, professor/student size difference, size kink, blowjob, fingering, almost getting caugth, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dominant/submissive, p in v, vanilla sex, rough sex, sliiight roleplay, slight forbidden love

Words count: 3.790k Reading time: 11 min

@le3n4a-23 helped me proofread this ( ´∀`)

Dividers cr. @cafekitsune check out the blog it's sooo pretty

Follow the don't like don't read rule please - MINORS DNI

You walked to the now empty classroom. You had to meet up with your professor, Mr Ackles, about your attitude in class these days... laughing during lessons, not paying attention, and not doing your tasks. Mr Ackles looked very much pissed when he told you to come meet him after class.

"Take a seat." His eyes pratically burned holes through your skull as you walked in. His voice rough and husky, like he had just woken up, your body moving casually "Sure Mr Ackles" she scoffs sitting on the chair in front of the desk, your bratty attitude testing his patience.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath, before looking back up at you. He crosses his arms over his chest and speaks again, a bit more harsh. "You know why you're here, correct?" You sighed. "Maybe." You curse to yourself, trying to shut the hell up with your attitude.

He raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair, letting out a sharp exhale "Maybe is not an acceptable answer. You're here because you were being disruptive during class and didn't submit the homework that was given. Again." he rumbles. You open your mouth to talk back, but you stop yourself biting down on your lip, preventing words from flowing out.

He notices your behaviour, and his frown slowly becomes a scowl. "Are you going to say something, or are you just going to sit there in silence?" his green eyes burning into yours.

"Well, Mr Ackles, maybe I'm not so good during your lessons cause I'm bored." Words falling out of your lips before you even process, but damn, was Mr Ackles always that hot when pissed?

He scoffs at your words, clearly not amused by your attitude. "Bored? That's your excuse? You do realize it's your job to do the work, right?" his voice raspy now. "Not my job to make it interesting for you. I've caught you laughing in class and talking to your friends instead of working, more times than I can count. You're starting to get on my nerves, missy."

Your mind running at the nickname "Am I Mr Ackles?" You scoff, there's a moment of silence. Your heart starts racing. As he gets up from his seat, you shift in your seat, the skirt feeling suddenly shorter than ever and pretty tight.

He took a few steps closer to you. The look in his eyes was stern and they seemed colder than before. He spoke with authority. You could see him clenching his jaw... oh, the jaw clenching No focus. "Are you trying to piss me off, or are you just a natural?"

You can't help but press your thighs together under the little desk. "I'm not trying anything, Sir." You dare with that word. His eyes linger on your face for a moment before noticing your thighs being pushed together. His jaw clenches tighter as he quickly looks back up at your face and speaks again, sounding just as stern. "Is that right? Then why are you acting like a complete pain in the ass today, huh?"

"Oh really? I didn't notice." Your voice slightly higher, looking away from his taller figure while you shift onto your seat. Damn he looked hotter when stern and pissed. He stepped forward, now standing directly in front of you and leaned down on the desk so that he was leaning over you and staring you down.

"Oh, you most definitely are acting like a brat right now. And I have zero patience left for it. I'd watch your tone, little girl." You inhale deeply hearing him call you that, thighs helplessly pressing together. "I can't exactly concentrate on your lessons while you steal all my attention." She bites back, faking some sarcasm.

He raises an eyebrow at your comment, not expecting a snarky response like that from you. He can't help but notice your behaviour, and it makes him feel slightly flustered, although he doesn't let it show on his face. He leans a little closer to you, still speaking sternly. "Oh, are you saying I'm distracting you, hm?"

"Totally." You murmur, looking away, feeling him come closer. Fuck, was he testing you? 'Cuz you could actually fall for it. He smirked slightly at your answer, enjoying the fact that you were actually being honest for once. He leaned in even closer, his voice was a bit deeper as he spoke, but his tone still held the same authority. "And what is it exactly that's so distracting about me, hm?"

"You do know all the female audience at your lessons calls you Mr sexy right?" you ask, slightly losing yourself into his green eyes. No snap out of it. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, not expecting you to actually say that out loud. he chuckled slightly, his expression turning into a cocky one as he spoke,

"Really? Called Mr. Sexy? I never knew about that." You nod, not expecting the change in his tone when he gets bit cocky, his hand running onto his trimmed beard. Your breath hitching when he leans in his big hands onto your desk as he supports himself, his face closer now breath slightly against your skin as he spoke, his cologne musky in your nostrils.

"And judging by the way you're sitting in your chair, I'm guessing you agree with the students." She remains silent, slightly biting her lip to keep quiet, unknowingly shifting in her chair. Again.

He notices your small reactions, and it makes him feel pleased. He smirks to himself before he decides to lean down even closer, "....And you're not even trying to deny it, are you? Why is that?" You swallow as every muscle he moves tests your limits, he might have noticed your hints.

He stands up from leaning on the desk and makes his way back to his chair, sitting down and gesturing for you to come closer. He waits for you to get up and stand in front of his desk. Standing in front of him almost makes you melt on the spot, clothes feeling uncomfortable now.

He leaned back on his chair, his legs spread slightly as he looked up at you. Damn he always pulled that move in class, of course you didn't pay attention. He noticed your body language, how you were shifting uncomfortably and how your clothes seemed to be fitted on you. He patted his knee. "Sit."

You keeps telling yourself not to before speaking out loud, your voice stammering without permission. Damn it "The others might come in..." He smirks slightly, enjoying how flustered you were becoming from his words and actions. he shook his head and leaned forward, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, your back now pressed against his chest

"Don't worry about them. I locked the door, we won't be bothered. He looks up at you, his eyes scanning over your body again, now being closer to you "I wouldn't want us to be interrupted anyway." His rough hands onto your waist makes a shiver run down your spine, fighting to stay still onto his lap.

"Always thought you liked the bratty behaviour." you spoke mindlessly without noticing you actually were talking out loud. He chuckled at your comment, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "Bratty behaviour was fun the first few times, now it's just irritating. I prefer the more... honest version of you."

He then leaned closer again, his breath against your ear, now practically whispering in your ear, his voice deep and had a hint of huskiness, "And right now, it's like you're a completely different person. It's rather cute, actually.

You slightly lean with your elbows onto his desk, your back imperceptibly arching, you were having a hard time, almost giving up to the thrill. He notices your subtle movements, and he can't help but smirk at how responsive you are to his touch.

He leaned closer, his chest now pressing against your back as he puts his hands on your hips, slowly running his fingers over the exposed skin from the gap between your shirt and skirt "And I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy this more than I should... don't you think?"

You hum slightly, hiding your face into your arms, leaning onto the desk in front of her feeling his rough hands onto her thighs, legs slightly spreading his hands slowly tracing up and down your thighs, his touch gentle yet firm. He can almost feel himself getting carried away, but he keeps his voice steady as he speaks, "You like my touch, don't you, dear? you're being so good for me now..." mischiefly

You shiver under his touch, it was a while since someone touched you like this, and you were enjoying it bit too much. "I'll remain the brat I am Mr Ackles" you murmurs, "or should I call you Sir?" you slightly joke, he smirks at your stubborn response, even though your body gives away your true feelings, and he slowly drags one of his hands up your inner thigh, his hand stopping when he reaches the edge of your skirt

"Oh, you can try. But I have a feeling you'll be a bit too distracted to act like a little brat when I'm done with you." He nips gently at your ear and speaks again, his tone lower now and his voice almost a growl. "I think I'd like it if you called me Sir." You shift in his lap, feeling him play with the hem of your skirt. You silently gasp, feeling his hardness pressed against your thighs.

He feels you squirm slightly in his lap, and he can't help but chuckle slightly, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. He takes a moment to press his hips against you so you can feel his growing hardness even more. He then whispers in your ear again. "Feels good, doesn't it? Can you feel what you're doing to me, hm?"

You gets all fidgety, legs slightly spreading more, giving him more access, you move your hips towards his. She whimpers, feeling his lips onto your neck. He notices you growing more flustered and restless, your body seeking more of his touch, and he can't help but feel pleased. He sucks on a sensitive spot on your neck, leaving a small mark there before he speaks again. "You're so eager for my touch, hm?"

You gasp when he gets up all of sudden, setting you over the desk having you bent over it. You squirm lightly the sudden act. Now standing behind you, his hands roaming over your hips and up your sides, occasionally slipping under your shirt to brush against your skin. He leans down, his body pressing against your back as he whispers in your ear. "Now that's a sight. Bent over my desk, squirming for me. All needy, huh?"

You whine silently, murmuring, "Yes, Sir." He chuckles at your response, his hands trailing up your body to rest on your hips, his touch gentle but firm. He then pulls your skirt up your waist, revealing your panties. "God, you're so eager. You want this, sweetheart? Are you sure?" You breathe heavily, almost whispering. "Yes. Sir"

He hums, pleased to hear you finally give in. He leans down, his chest pressing against your back, and he speaks again, his voice thick sending shiversdown your spine "That's what I like to hear missy" his hands slowly slide down your hips, and he grabs the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs.

The desk was pretty tall, you had to stand on your tiptoes, your mind running with thoughts, interrupted when. He takes a step back to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxer briefs. Your hands grip the edges tensing in anticipation.

He then moves back to you, his body pressed up against your backside again, his hands grasping your hips tightly and his breathing a bit heavy as he speaks "You're so beautiful, you know that? I'm sorry I didn't notice until now." You gasp, feeling him pressing slightly to your entrance, such a tease oh my god. You whimper, jerking your hips to his.

Feeling you moving your hips against him , desperately seeking more. he leans down and kisses your neck, his breathing gets heavier as he murmurs against your skin "Tell me you want this"

You whimper "I want it" you squirm. "Sir, please" you whine, feeling him press himself to your. He can't hold back anymore, hearing you plead is driving him wild, he's never seen this side of you before and he is loving it. "Oh, I'm going to give it to you, baby." He tightens his grip on your hips even more and presses himself all the way inside, slowly filling you up.

You grip the edges of the desk whining softly feeling him swiftly entering you. You feel him stretching you out. He sighs finally feeling you around him, walls quivering around his lenght, You moan as he leans down, his chest lightly pressing against your back, his hardness shifting inside you. You shiver, as he starts moving, slowly pulling out and immediatly slamming back in.

He buries his face into your neck, setting a slow and deep pace, your moans getting noisy, head against the surface while you feel his lips onto your neck. As his teeth graze against your skin a soft yelp leaves your lips. His hand immediately clutches onto your mouth muffling your sounds to keep you quiet.

He moves his hand from your mouth to your throat, gently squeezing, you silently plead while he thrusts into you, his hand gripping your neck. He groans, feeling your body shaking under his touch. His hand keeps a firm grip on your throat, not enough to hurt, but just enough to control your moans.

"Quiet, sweetie. We don't want anyone to hear us, do we?" You slightly shake your head, you feel his hips snapping against yours, deeply and precisely, hitting every right spot "Don't want anyone to know what we're doing in here..." He grunts as his thrusts get slightly more aggressive, the desk creaking under you.

He moves his hand away from your throat and grabs your hair, tugging it lightly to pull your head back against his shoulder. "You're so good for me, sweetheart. All bratty just minutes ago. Isn't that right?" he mutters in your ear, his voice raspy ad deep. You try to keep your moans get quiet but the just get more almost obscene. Your hands holding to his arm while your head rests onto his shoulder.

A deep moan leaves his lips, he grabs your hand kissing it softly before pinning it down on the desk next to your head, his other hand still holding your waist. "You're being so good for me..." His voice is full of desire and pleasure, you feel your insides twisting. Your orgasm suddenly reaching you as you cum around him squeezing tightly, your hands gripping the edges of the desk, knuckles getting white.

He groans feeling you squeeze around him almost cutting him in half while his hips stutters. Your hand goes to your mouth covering it, trying to silence your cries of pleasure. Your back arching as he snaps his hips harder against you, the skin slapping sounds along with groans fill the room. The desk creaking under you.

He groans throwing his head back, his eyes shutting for a moment. You squeeze your eyes closed feeling his hips picking up the pace moving faster. He keeps a steady rhythm with his hips, the sound of the desk creaking and your soft moans and whimpers are filling the room, making him even more desperate for you. he whispers again in your ear, his voice low and strained "You feel so good sweetheart."

His breathing gets heavier, he's getting close and he can't hold back any longer "I'm so close, you're gonna make me lose it..." he grunts has his hips stutters still hitting deep and fast. His hand slides under you getting to your breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh while his other hand pulls your hips against his, chasing his orgasm. "Just a little more..." He groans as his pace becomes more desperate and erratic. Your breath heavy, whimpers timing with his thrusts.

His thrusts still deep but getting little sloppier, his deep silent groans arousing you even more. Hands holding you close to his body while you slightly tremble under him. "Oh god..." You moan loudly, his hand flying to cover your mouth while you cum again legs slightly convulsing. "You have to be quiet sweetheart, remember?" His breath irregular as yours while he keeps slamming into you.

You nod softly, pleading with your eyes, his release about to hit any seconds now "Almost there baby..." He grunts groaning, his movements desperate. The desk slightly moves with his thrusts while your moan into his hand, feeling him throb into you. Her whimper louder when you push yourself as deep as you can, your thrusts coming to a stop as you finally let go. Holding himself inside you, thick white ropes filling you up. He curses to himself, his chest heaving while he catches his breath.

He buries his face into your neck, trying to calm his breathing, his heart racing "That was incredible" his voice raspy. Yep, you totally agree with that. He can feel your body against his, and he can't resist the urge to move again, slowly rocking his hips into you. He moans quietly against your ear, his breath hot on your skin "You're so soft and warm, sweetheart." He can sense your body shaking and trembling, and he knows you're close. He leans down and kisses your neck again, his lips gently against your sensitive.

You moans out his name while he presses you and fucks you against the desk, the wood creaking "C'mon let go... it's the last one love" He whispers in your ear, his hands holding you in place while he thrusts into you from behind, Your leg fold upwards shaking as you feel the third orgasm approaching.

Your whines timing with his motions, doubling the pleasure when he holds your still, going deeper as your legs fold. You cum again squirting from the intense overstimulation. His hips slamming against you at the same time and stopping while you cum, his hands onto the desk supporting himself onto it. He leans forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder, trying to compose himself.

You tremble, whining as he pulls out, "How'd you expect me to focus on your lessons after this?" You murmur softly breathing heavily. You slowly hop down the desk, legs wobbly. He hands over some wet wipes. He chuckles, hearing your comment, he takes a step back, giving you a few moments to regain your bearings. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're going to find it very hard to concentrate now." He replies, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"At least I know how to achieve barely good grades." You joke, pulling your skirt down and your panties back up. He laughs at your joke, watching as you adjust your clothes, his eyes flickering over your body. "Well, maybe that's gonna give you a little extra motivation." He teases. "Aw Mr Ackles you mean you won't give me a good grade even if I give you head?" You looks at him, long lashes fluttering

He swallows hard as you look at him, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. He can't help but feel a little flustered by your blunt question. "Uh...well, umm...that's not exactly what I meant." He stutters a little, his mind racing with some not so appropriate thoughts. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "You said you liked me better when being honest... want me to be?" you ask, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Eyes exploring his muscles, and you never noticed how built Mr Ackles actually was.

He feels your eyes roaming over his muscles, and he can hardly believe the effect you have over him. He swallows again, his throat feeling a little dry, before finally responding. "Uh... well, I mean... I do appreciate honesty, sure." He replies, his voice a little hoarse.

"I actually thought about giving you head more than I like to admit. I guess I was being a brat on purpose." You grin maliciously, shivers run down your spine as his authoritative eyes stop onto yours, blushing at the intense gaze looking at your hands to escape it. He can feel a surge of heat wash over him as you admit that to him, his eyes widening a little at your confession. His mind racing with thoughts and images of you. "You were... trying to get my attention, then?" He asks, his voice a little lower than usual, his eyes still fixed on yours.

You nod blushing a little more, he takes a small step closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies. "You have my attention now, sweetheart." His voice lower. "You mean you don't mind me being younger? or being your student?" You suddenly spoke without even acknowledging it, He's surprised by your question, but he doesn't hesitate to reply. "No, I don't mind at all. In fact, I kind of like it. Makes this whole situation a little...more exciting, don't you think?"

He chuckles softly seeing you blushing and trying to calm down, finding it absolutely adorable. He gently lifts your chin with his hand, making you look up at him. "You have no idea how beautiful you are when you're blushing like this, you know" he murmurs, his eyes roaming your face, taking in every small detail.

He glances at the clock on the wall, suddenly reminded of the time limit they have. he looks back at you, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Oh, we still have arround 30 min... any ideas what we could do in that time, sweetheart?" He asks, his voice dripping with innuendo.

"Guess we can fulfil my fantasies" You murmur, pushing him back on his chair and getting on your knees, practically under the desk

He's a little surprised by your sudden action, but he doesn't resist as you push him down into his chair. He watches you, a mixture of arousal and disbelief on his face as you kneel down between his legs."Oh, sweetheart, you're very eager, aren't you?" he says, his voice a little strained, his eyes watching you with an intense gaze.

Your little interaction is interrupted by a knock on the door "Mr. Ackles, you in there?"

...to be continued

| Jensen Masterlist |

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m00nkissedlover · 8 months ago

Text

・｡Sweet Dreams 🍫

You've ordered: a chocolate raspberry tart! enjoy!

"Need a little sweetness in my life~"

Leona Kingscholar x reader | word count: 848 words

Summary: halloween night with leona! 🍫

Warnings: a bit shorter than part 1, a little rushed. other than that, none! just fluffy fluff!!

Note: this is a continuation/ part 2 of my previous leona fic, Naps. and no, i'm not making his entire personality about napping. i just think cuddle/ nap fics w/ leona are rlly cute-

You had never seen Leona being so clingy. Ever. But ever since that day you comfortably napped with the beastman, he'd become almost entranced by you. It was almost as if he genuinely could not sleep unless you were in his arms. The others didn't know about this of course, he'd die of embarrassment.

It was finally the holiday the students and staff of NRC had spent weeks preparing for: Halloween! Everyone was dressed up in their best costumes and the smells of cinnamon and pumpkin filled the air. Everyone was packed into Mostro Lounge, drinks and food items going around, laughter and lively chatter filling the air. everything was perfect. You were currently chatting with Cater and Kalim, talking about how Professor Crewel had given you guys a pop quiz yesterday despite the holiday the next day.

As you were chatting, you couldn't help but scan the crowd a few times looking for a certain lion. You could've sworn you saw him a while ago.

"Y/n! there you are." you turned around, met by none other than Ruggie, seeming a bit out of breath.

"It's leona again." you playfully rolled your eyes, excusing yourself from the conversation with Cater and Kalim.

You made your way down the halls of the Savanaclaw dorms, the building rather quiet since most all of its students were attending the Halloween bash. Once you got to leona's door, you gave it a gentle rhythmic knock, one that Leona could always pick up on. A gruff "Enter" was heard through the door, and you stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

When you turned around again, you saw him: Leona Kingscholar laid out in his bed, costume and all. He didn't even have time to tell you to come over, you were already shuffling under the blankets and positioning his head in you lap.

"You didn't want to stay at the party?" you asked, gently running your fingers through his hair.

"Too noisy, couldn't nap properly." his answer made you laugh, your finger reaching over to poke his cheek.

"It's a party, you're not supposed to nap." but the beastman was already dozing off in your lap, effectively trapping you.

"Can't hear you, m' too busy dozing off." he teased, your fingers already braiding some strands of his hair. As you did so, you decided to eat some candy from your bag.

As the wrapper rustled from opening the candy, you could see Leona's nose twitch. He sniffed at the air a bit, his eyes not even opening when he started to speak.

"What are you eating, herbivore?" you took a bite of your chocolate, glancing down at him.

"Just some candy I got from Mostro Lounge. you want some?" Leona opened his eyes as you held the sweet treat to his lips, a look of mild disgust forming on his face.

"No. And you shouldn't be eating so much either, you'll get sick."

"Oh come on, try some! It's good, I promise." Leona looked between you and the toothache in a wrapper, sighing reluctantly. He broke off a small piece, popping it into his mouth.

You swore you saw his eyes light up, but he tried to hide it. Which failed as he kept asking for tastes as you pulled more candy out of your bag.

"You're gonna be the death of me, herbivore." he grumbled, reacting to the aftermath of eating a single sour gumdrop, of which you had already eaten five.

"How can you eat those? It's like eating sandpaper." "Well, back home I eat them all the time."

"You're crazy." he said, reaching over and pinching your cheek.

"Don't come crying to me tomorrow if your teeth start to hurt or if your stomach gives out on ya," Leona teased, earning a look of mock annoyance from you.

"Well, if I get sick, it'll be good for you. you can use it as an excuse to cuddle me more." you smiled cheekily, scooting a little closer to the lion man.

"Hmm, is that so, herbivore?" he mumbled, a soft smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap.

You laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to press a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Yes, I think a big, cuddly lion would make me feel better in no time." you hummed, moving to kiss his cheek.

You could see the color in his cheeks, immediately teasing him about it, only to met by his constant refusal.

This was probably the best Halloween you'd ever had. Curled up with the person you loved, eating candy, chatting, and teasing one another. You rested your head on Leona's chest, his strong arms wrapping around you. The sound of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep, just like that first day you'd napped with him.

Then, he was just Leona Kingscholar, house warden of Savanaclaw, the lazy lion man, the strongest junior at NRC. Now he was your comfort person, cuddle buddy, and partner that you loved with all your heart. 🍫

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vivian-pascal · 5 months ago

Text

Hope

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: You are four months pregnant with Joel’s child and are starting to show. You’ve been wearing more baggy clothes around your dad and his birthday is coming up, you know you’ll be seeing more family than just your father.

warnings: teasing, cuddling, some nipple sucking, little bit of angst, description of reader not based on picture, breast massaging, horny joel, description of readers breasts, tiny bit of leg grinding, arguing, angst, crying

authors note: i'm back bitches (hopefully once again) shorter chapter, haven't really had much motivation sadly, hopefully it'll stop on by soon

Ever since you told Joel you were pregnant, he’s been more and more consistent with helping you whenever you’re at his place. Whether it’s simple just bringing you a glass of water, or helping you carry some groceries in from his car. He’s being more gentle in a way and it fills your heart with joy. Thinking about how gentle he will be with your child.

“Joel!” You call him from downstairs as your sprawled out on the couch. You hear his footsteps come crashing down the stairs and he’s immediately at your aid. “Yea darlin’?” You give him a soft smile as you put your hand on your tummy. He walks over to you and sits down beside you and puts his arm around your shoulder as he joins hands with yours. He smiles down at you as he rubs your little tummy.

“I was just wondering if you could massage my boobs? They’re really tender.” His eyes widen in shock. You two haven’t really done anything sexual wise since you told him you were pregnant. He knew how your hormones could differ from day to day due to your pregnancy that’s why he kept the sex rate low. But now, now that you’re asking him to touch such a gentle and delicate part of your body that he hasn’t even laid eyes on in god knows how long, might be the end of him.

He takes a deep gulp. “Uh- Yea um sure baby.” You smile innocently as you face towards him. He awkwardly places his hands on your boobs and begins to move them around. “Cmon silly, don’t act like you’ve never done this before. You got to take my shirt off.” Sweat begins to run down his back. He’s acting just like a teenager in heat. He swallows as he slowly takes your shirt off. He’s speechless. He gently places your shirt on the ground as he looks at your gorgeous breasts in your bra. He closes his eyes as he replaces his hands on your boobs. “Joel! What are you doing? My word, do i have to do everything around here myself?” You swat his hand away as he looks at you in surprise. You reach behind you as you unclasp your bra.

Joel’s eyes fixate themselves on your glowing, luscious breasts. Your nipples hard due to the tenderness, the soft skin of your boobs. Everything. He bites the inside of his lip as hard as he can to suppress his desire. He places his hands on your naked breasts as he finally gets to do his work. He gently palms your breasts while twisting your nipples in his fingers.

You let out a little sigh as you feel his work. His eyebrows furrow as he holds back a groan. As he sees your breasts moving up and down and your nipples hard as a rock from his hands, his mouth begins to salivate. You close your eyes and lean back as he lies down on top of you, making sure to not lay on your belly.

His mouth comes in contact with your nipple and you both moan in pleasure. His tongue rubs the little bud as his other hand twists and pokes your other breast. Your hands move into his hair as they pull and tug. “Oh god Joel.” You sigh as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. You can easily feel how hard he is as he begins to grind on your leg. Joel comes up for air as he looks at your blissed out face. “Hey baby, what’d you say we move this to the bedr-“

He is rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. You groan as you get up and leave Joel lying back on the couch. You pick up your phone and see it’s your dad calling. “It’s my dad.” Joel looks up in confusion as you answer the call.

“Hey dad what’s up?”

“Hon where the hell are ya?”

Joel looks at you in surprise as you begin to stutter as you think of a lie.

“I’m at a friends house.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end of the phone.

“Ok well i need you home now”

“Dad why? Can’t i come tomorrow morning? What’s the big issue”

“I said home. Now.”

With that, he hangs up the phone. You stare down at the dark screen. Joel stands up and walks over to you with your bra and shirt. “He’s never this angry joel, what if he knows? What will he think of me then?”

Joel rubs your face as your eyes get teary. “He won’t know baby. There’s no way he will ok? Maybe your family is comin for a visit n he needs some help. I’m sure that’s all it is doll.” He gives you a reassuring smile as you give him a kiss. He helps you put your bra and shirt back on as well as handing you your coat. He opens the door as you walk out. “See ya soon babe” You give him a kiss and a wave goodbye as you get in your car and head for home.

Worry begins to creep in as you approach your dads house. You pull up into the driveway and park your car. You take a moment to try and calm yourself as you get out of your car and walk up to your dad's door. You take a deep breath in before you open the door to hell.

You dad is stood in the doorway exactly as you walk in. "Dad? What's going on." You say with a shaky voice. He is stood in front of you with his arms crossed and his face a stern tone.

You slowly shut the door behind you as you stand awkwardly awaiting for him to speak. "Care to explain what this is?" He told out his hand and inside of it is a positive pregnancy test.

You eyes widen and you become winded. "D-Dad I have no idea what-"Now don't get all pouty on me, you know exactly what the fuck this is and you better fucking explain it to me right now." He slams the test down on the counter as you feel your eyes begin to swell with tears.

Millions of questions run through your head about how he even found out, you directly remember hiding it away in one of your clothing drawers, what would he be doing in there? "Were you looking through my stuff?" "Now that ain't the question now is it, what in the damn hell, is that positive fucking pregnancy test doin in my daughters room. 21 year old daughters room."

You're speechless, I mean what do you have to say to him? That you fucked his best friend who is at least a good 25 years older than you and now your having his baby?

"Dad, I mean what do you want me to say?"

He looks at you with angry eyes and a clenched jaw. "You gonna tell me who this mystery boy is then hmm? Or am I just gonna have to find out myself." "Dad its none of your business okay? It's not that big of a deal."

"Excuse me? Not that big of a deal that my daughter, who isn't even done college yet, is fucking pregnant with God knows who's child. That's not a goddamn big deal to you?"

He uncrosses his arms and clenches his fists as he walks towards you. Your phone starts rapidly buzzing and you try to turn it off as fast as you can but your not quick enough.

"Now who keeps blowin up that phone of yours, is it your baby daddy hm?"

Before you can say anything he snatches the phone out of your hand and tears begin running down your face. "Dad please don't-"

He stares blankly at the screen as incoming text messages come flooding in. "Joel... with hearts next to his name, calling you baby?"

His tone is slow but still stern. He is shocked.

He chuckles a little. Tears come running down your face, smudging your makeup. "This better be some other goddamn Joel you know because if this is fucking Joel Miller I swear to God. Is it?"

You look at him but stay silent. "Fucking answer me god damnit. Is it Joel fucking Miller?" You close your eyes as you nod your head yes as you begin to cry harder.

Your dad throws your phone at you and puts his hands on his head. "Get out."

Your head shoots up in shock. "Dad I-" "Now what didn't you understand, I said fucking get out of my house." He shouts at you as you grab the door and slam it behind you. Running to your car as you cry.

It starts to rain as you drive into to Joel's house. It's the only place that you can think of that'll be safe. God what are you going to do?

part i part ii part iii

tags!

@guelyury @livingonthehems @ursagittariusgirlfriend @iamsherlocked @heartpascalispunk @pinkcrystal44 @amyispxnk @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @kotourasan123 @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @littlevenicebitch69

@sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts @itsokbbygrl @mountainsandmayhem @morallyinept @rav3n-pascal22 @magpiepills @javierpenaispunk

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedropascal #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #dark joel miller

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nr1chaedickrider · 1 year ago

Text

I can only be me when i'm by your side - i'm not a monster.

As time passes recovering, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

cw: fluff, smut, angst, petnames, virgin!reader, sweet girl!jihyo, popular but not so popular!jihyo, basketball player!jihyo, both are 18 but they are students, mentions of death, drunk confessions, they fall in love pretty fast, lwk rushed, lmk if there is more ^_^, ~ 4k words

if you're thinking "hm! i read this fic somewhere... yes! its my heeseung fic from my bg blog @adorwoo ! which i wanted to use for jihyo !^_^ hope you enjoy anyway.

men dni.

It's not your fault.

It's not your...

Is it really?

The rain beats down on your black umbrella, the lines from Dahyun's letter playing over and over in your head. It feels like you're trapped in a vicious cycle, not being able to think of anything else.

But why?

Why didn't she tell you?

Were all those conversations about the mutual trust between you two a lie? Was it just talk to keep you from worrying?

If someone had told you a week ago that you had to be at her funeral because she had killed herself, you would have laughed at that person. Dahyun was always the happiest person you've ever met.

Even if you had been told that a day ago, you wouldn't have believed it. Because in theory, it's the stupidest thing you've ever heard.

In his letter, she wrote about how much she loved you, how she enjoyed every minute and every moment with you, how it's not your fault that she's not here anymore.

She's probably right, not just probably. She's right, and you know it. But you can't stop blaming yourself. Someone has to take the blame. Someone is responsible.

You could have helped her.

You should have helped her.

Tears run down your cheeks as you stare at her grave. Her family, her friends, they are all gone. You stand here alone, not daring to leave.

'Kim Dahyun

Born on may 28, 1998.

A friend, daughter and lover.

She will continue to live in our souls.'

It feels like your eyes are glued to the writing, you can't look away. You try to regulate your breathing, taking a deep breath.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you place the white rose next to the gravestone.

You take one last look at her grave before turning and slowly walking away.

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all."

You look at the students in front of you, all of them giving you strange looks. Of course, you are a new student, but you feel uncomfortable under their gaze. The teacher smiles at you and tells you where to sit, next to a girl called Mina.

It's as if everyone has forgotten about you again as the teacher starts teaching. You sit down next to Mina and she smiles at you.

"Nice to meet you," she whispers. You smile at her.

You can't talk to her for long because she starts taking notes for the lesson. You look around at the faces of the others. It actually looks like a normal class, but your eyes land on a girl.

She looks shorter than you, her hair is brown as well as her eyes. She's wearing a white t-shirt.

"Have you laid your eye on someone?" asks Mina, laughing a little.

"No!" you answer, a little too loudly, and you put your head on the table as a few people look at you. "I was just looking at her," you whisper.

"Yeah yeah... that's what they all say" she says.

You slowly lose yourself in your thoughts as memories of Dahyun come flooding back.

Should you even look at other girls? Is it bad?

Would Dahyun hate you for trying to find love again?

It's been more than two months since she died, but you can't stop thinking about her.

Maybe it's normal, your behavior. Your overthinking of everything, maybe you're not the only person who feels this way? Maybe there is someone else who is just as lost in their thoughts as you are.

Maybe you are simply not alone.

However, your thoughts are interrupted by the bell and Mina.

"I can show you a few things here at school if you want," she suggests, and you gratefully accept her help.

You spend the whole lunch break running after her while she shows you around.

"Why did you change schools anyway? Your old one is a pretty well-known one, and much better than here," she asks, before taking a bite of her sandwich.

The question makes you wonder, and you think about whether you should just lie to her and say that you moved, or that you were somehow bullied at your school - but somehow it feels wrong. Because you neither moved nor were you bullied. No, everything was actually fine.

Actually,

Somehow everything changed after her death.

Your classmates started looking at you funny, and you still don't know whether they are looks of pity or looks of condemnation because they blame you.

"I don't know" is your answer, and somehow it's true. Sometimes you really have no idea why you changed schools, but Mina doesn't need to know the whole truth.

She just nods in response as she continues to eat.

"The girl you were looking at in English, her name is Jihyo by the way" she says.

What?

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

"Because you were staring at her a lot - you looked really interested in her" she replies with a little grin.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I wasn't staring at her..." you laugh a little, but can't hide your despair. Why does she think you're interested in her?

"Watch out!" someone shouts, but before you can react, a basketball hits you.

You fall to the floor, your head hurts and you feel slightly dizzy as you slowly open your eyes.

The girl from your English class is kneeling on the floor in front of you, looking at you, trying to see if you're okay.

It's like a cliché high school movie.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a couple of other girls come over, but she just tells them to get something to cool off and shoos them away.

The things that can happen when you want to visit the gym...

You nod slowly, after a few blinks your vision is no longer blurry.

Another girl comes back and hands Jihyo a cold pack.

"Here, take this," she says and puts it in your hand, her hand on your shoulder to support you.

You hold it to your head, biting the inside of your cheek slightly from the cold.

Before she can say anything else, she is called by his coach, at the same moment Mina comes to you.

"I was looking for you," she says and helps you up.

You watch Jihyo jogging across the field before you leave the gym.

New week, new luck?

Every day you tried desperately to talk to Jihyo somehow, but suddenly she was always gone after class and you were never put in a group together.

But it looks like luck is on your side for once.

"Here's the list of groups, you have to give a presentation in pairs on a play of your choice," your English teacher announces.

You look at the picture projected on the wall.

Chaeyoung and Mina,

Sana and Miyeon,

Jihyo and Y/n,

Jeongyeon and...

Wait, what?

You read the list again and once more you see your name and Jihyo's name next to each other.

"Jihyo and Y/n," you say quietly.

"Are you happy?" Mina asks teasingly with a grin on her lips.

"Are you happy that you have to work with Chaeyoung?" you ask back - Mina doesn't answer.

Before your teacher can give you any more homework for the break, the school bell rings and everyone rushes out of the classroom.

You walk (or rather, run) to Jihyo who is packing her things away.

"Hey, I was wondering when we should meet," you say, and she looks up at you and smiles. You feel your cheeks turning red.

She puts on his backpack and stands up.

"How about Friday afternoon? My place?" she suggests and you nod.

She takes a pen from her pocket, "Give me your hand," she says, you are confused but do it anyway.

She opens the pen with her mouth, the cap between her teeth as she gently writes on your hand.

Her phone number.

It feels like she's giving you an autograph.

"Text me and I'll send you my address," she says, and before you can answer, she walks out of the room.

You look down at your hand and see a little smiley face next to her number.

You can't help but giggle as you look at it.

You stare at your phone - up to her front door and back down to your phone.

You are 10 minutes early and don't dare to ring the doorbell.

"You know you can just ring the bell?" someone asks you, you look up and see Jihyo smiling at you.

"I'm early, that's why-"

"Not a problem," she interrupts you.

She lets you in and closes the door behind her.

Her house is beautiful, modern and yet somehow old-fashioned.

"My parents aren't here, so I thought we could study in the living room," she says, and you nod, leaning your backpack against the table.

"Water?" she asks and you take it gratefully.

You drink a little before she sits down across from you.

You both leaf through the books, take notes, talk briefly about certain passages, but otherwise no one says anything.

Jihyo decides to break the awkward atmosphere.

"I wanted to apologize again, for the basketball," she says, and you laugh a little.

"You don't have to apologize, things like that can happen," you reply.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asks, and instead of answering, you are completely silent, thinking.

Memories of Dahyun come back while Jihyo looks at you and waits for your answer.

"Yes, I did, but she died a few months ago," you answer.

She nods slightly, "Can I ask how he died?" she asks in a quiet, polite tone, as if she really wants to make sure that she's asking something that doesn't hurt you in any way.

"Suicide," you say, short and meager, without many details (whether you know many details at all is another question).

She looks at you with a supportive look, one that makes you feel like she's really listening and that she really understands you.

Maybe she understands you even more than you think?

She puts her hand on yours with a slight smile.

"Thank you for confiding in me," she says, your cheeks slightly flushed, hers too.

You both look at each other for a moment before she lets go and you both go back to work.

If only the work had gone on for longer.

After the one meeting, you saw her every day of the vacation. Always with the excuse that you supposedly "need to add something" (does going to the movies together add something to your project?).

It's been more than a week since you first met.

"You're in love," Mina says as she parks her car in front of Jihyo's house.

"I-"

"Don't even try to find an excuse, it's all good" she replies with a small grin.

You both get out of the car and walk to her house, the music so loud you can hear it several meters away.

How Jihyo, who is slightly drunk, hears the doorbell is also a mystery to you.

"Hey guys!" she greets you, she shakes Mina's hand and gives her a kind of high five, she gives you a hug.

You smile at her as the three of you walk into the living room.

"I'm going to Chaeyoung," Mina whispers, or rather shouts, in your ear before disappearing.

"Y/n, do you want to play a drinking game with us?" asks Jihyo, you nod.

Maybe it was a stupid decision.

Jihyo and her friends (of whom you only know Jeongyeon) only understand drinking games to mean taking shots and asking stupid questions.

Either answer - or drink.

You always chose the second option.

After about 7 questions (maybe more, maybe less - you lost count of that pretty fast) you get up and say that you need some fresh air.

Since you've been to her house several times, you know where the upstairs balcony is.

It's quite big, with a parasol and two folding chairs. You sit down on one and close your eyes, your head throbs a little.

"Are you okay?" someone asks after a few minutes.

To your surprise (not really a surprise), Jihyo stands next to you before sitting down on the chair to your right.

"Yeah, it's just the alcohol," you say.

You and alcohol, not really a good combination.

Especially not when you're sitting next to the girl you're in love with.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" you ask out of nowhere.

She shakes his head, "I thought it was obvious" she says and laughs a little.

"I love you" you confess.

She turns to you, but before he can answer anything, you keep talking.

"I know we haven't known each other that long... a month?? more? less? but-... I just have this feeling with you that I only used to have with her"

"I thought I'd never feel it again," you say, a tear running down your cheek.

Jihyo looks at you, her eyes slightly watery.

Is she crying too?

"Y/n" she says, interrupting your continued rambling.

She gets up, kneels down in front of your chair, and -

kisses you.

Her soft lips on yours.

She pulls away after just a few seconds and you already feel like you miss her lips.

"I love you too Y/n" she says softly.

You look at her in amazement.

"Really?" you ask.

"That's why I asked if you had a girlfriend" now it all makes so much more sense.

She pulls you up and takes you to the guest room. She tries to lay you down on the bed but you pull her with you and she falls on top of you.

You both stare at each other and laugh a little.

"You're drunk, get some rest," she says, kissing your forehead.

"I'll be here when you wake up"

And she really is next to you when you wake up.

"Good morning..." you groan as you rub your eyes.

She smiles at you, "good morning" she says, from the look on her face you suspect she woke up just a few minutes before you.

You pull her closer to you by her collar and kiss her, she kisses you back while her hand is on your cheek.

The kiss is just perfect, gentle, slow, a perfect way to start his morning.

But it can also be perfect in another way.

It gets warmer under the covers as you continue kissing, she kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on it. You can't help but rub your thighs together a little.

"What about the others?" you ask.

"I kicked them out yesterday after you fell asleep" she says, continuing to kiss your neck, even nibbling on it, making you let out soft moans.

"Jihyo, I think you should know that I am a virgin" you say, your cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment.

She giggles a little, kissing you on the lips again.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about baby" she replies with a smile.

She gets on top of you, continuing to kiss you.

You think kissing Jihyo is the best thing in the world.

Her hands trail over your body, giving you a soft squeeze here and there.

"Can I?" she asks, her hand playing with the buttons on your pants.

"Please" you answer with a smile.

She complies and opens them, pulling off your pants and leaving you in your underwear.

You sit up a little, your hands on her waist, feeling up her muscles, especially her abs.

"Want me to take it off?" she asks, you nod.

She pulls off her shirt over her head, dropping it somewhere on the floor.

Your finger trails up his stomach to her bra, looking at her like she is a work of art (she definetly is one).

"Done admiring me?" she asks with a teasing grin, to which you reply "never".

She leans down again, kissing your face as she starts to trail them down till he arrives at the waistband of your underwear.

"Can I?" she asks again, "yes" you answer, already out of breath.

She takes your underwear off, her hands placed on your thighs as she leaves kisses everywhere.

You can definetly tell that she has a thing for kissing.

When she places a kiss right on your clit though, you let out a small moan.

She begins licking and sucking on it, making you grab her hair with your hands as your fingers curl deeper into her scalp, leaving a delicious burn.

She drags her tongue down as she circles your core, slowly entering it a little.

You let out more moans as you turn your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.

Her tongue feels so good when you realise that you are closer and closer to your climax.

"Jihyo- I think I'm gonna-"

"Let it out princess" she mumbles against your core, the vibrations of her voice stimulating you even more as you cum into her mouth.

She smiles at you as he sits up, watching you coming down from your high.

You smile back at him as your cheeks turn red again.

"Can I?" she asks, her fingers trailing down your soft skin as her nails scratch you a little.

You look at her hand, a few veins poking out, her fingers thin but long.

You look at her again, nodding.

You pulled her closer as she rubs your clit with her fingers, you suck in your breath as she slowly pushes them in, the little stretch burning in a way that makes you even hornier.

She slips them in completly, you let out a moan in response. She takes your hand with her free one as your fingers intertwine.

She starts to slowly thrust into you, kissing you again as her tongue explores your mouth.

"You're so tight baby.." she mumbles into your mouth.

You can't help but let out louder moans when she starts to speed up a little.

Her fingers drive you crazy, it feels like she is everywhere, you feel her everywhere in your body as she exits and enters you.

"P-please jihyo- faster" you moan out, and who would she be if she wouldn't listen to your wishes?

She speeds up her thrusts, kissing down your neck again as her hot breath hits your skin.

Your hand grips the pillow your hand is laying on, moaning against your arm as you can feel Jihyo curling her fingers.

She thrusts into you again before you moan loudly, cumming as your thighs close around her wrist, panting heavily as she lets herself fall onto the spot next to you.

You both stare at the ceiling, the only sounds the heavy breathing from you.

You move her hand to yours and intertwine your fingers. She moves her head to the side to look at you, smiling.

You think seeing her smiling is something you can never get enough of.

Idiots in love, thats how you two can be described.

The next few months were full of love. Kisses here, kisses there. It didn't even have to be sexual, no, it was always romantic, no matter what you did together.

After a few months, she gave you a ring.

"One day I'll buy you an expensive, real diamond ring and ask you to marry me," she said, and since then you've both worn the matching rings without taking them off once.

If only it had stayed that way.

It's late at night, you're lying in bed reading a book when you get a message.

"I love you,

I'm sorry" - from Jihyo.

You sit up and stare at your cell phone.

"What's wrong?" you type and send the message, she replies,

"I can't take it anymore"

She can't take it anymore?

You feel a twinge in your head as you suddenly realize something.

It's too similar to Dahyun's goodbye.

"I can't live in this world anymore" she wrote in her text.

You look at her location, and without hesitation you walk, no - storm out of your apartment and run to her.

She's not far away, a bridge situated over a river only 5 minutes away, and you think you've never been so grateful for anything.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to see anything while your clothes get wetter and wetter, the rain completly drenches you.

Again it feels like a cliché love drama.

Only maybe this time you have the chance to have a happy ending.

Your legs are burning from all the running as you arrive on the bridge.

"Jihyo!" you shout, the rain pattering loudly on the asphalt, forcing you to shout even louder for her.

Her bike is right next to her, one leg over the railing, her hands gripping it tightly, as if she's...

Scared?

"Y/n?" she answers, her voice low and shaky.

"Please..." you say as you walk slowly towards her.

She doesn't stop you when you take her hand in yours.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, she looks at you as a tear runs down her cheek.

"I-... I didn't want you to worry. I thought this feeling would go away if I didn't talk to anyone about it," she says.

Whether your face is wet from the rain or your tears, you don't know.

"Believe me, you have to talk to me, then it will get better," you say.

Her face comes closer to yours and, without answering, she kisses you.

You kiss her back, try to grab her so you can hold her closer - but she lets go.

Completely.

You slowly open your eyes, afraid of what you will see - but you see nothing.

No one.

The rain completely overwhelms you.

"No..." you whisper, looking down on the floor and picking up something shiny.

Her ring.

You look out over the railing and see the water turning slightly red.

It feels like you're trapped in a vicious circle, like you'll never find peace again.

You are trapped, with no way out.

While other people find the rain soothing, you find it to be more like torture.

While other people would stay indoors in weather like this, you're outside again.

Again in front of a grave.

But this time it's Jihyo's.

Everything feels too similar and you hate it more than anything.

"It's not your fault" is a sentence you started to hate.

You hoped so much that you would never have to hear or read it again.

"Why didn't you talk to me..." you whisper, as if she could hear you.

Your hand clutches the letter, it slowly getting soaked by the rain.

You don't dare to move.

"You knew what happened..."

All time does is passing -

"Why did you hide it from me..." Your voice is full of despair.

And all you ever do is grieve.

"Life without you is no way to live" the white flower falls on his grave -

just like her ring,

engraved with your name.

She helped you recover from Dahyun's death.

You just wish you wouldn't have to recover over her death alone now.

In another universe, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

In this universe, you're left alone,

again.

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 1 year ago

Text

Dial Tones - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You'd been waiting for sex in your relationship with Ethan, and after doing some other things with him before you left for college, you found yourself curious of what your boyfriend would do when he had the opportunity to have all of you.

Contains: m and f masturbation, phone sex.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing phone sex, and because I'm a sensitive baby, don't tell me if it sucks lmao. This was requested forever ago, and I'm thinking it could lead into the virgin!reader x virgin!Ethan fic I need to write👀 Let me know if y'all are cool with that haha.

P.S. - It's shorter than my normal stuff. I'm trying to figure out how to write phone sex💀

Before your left for college, your relationship with Ethan started to get a little…steamier. You weren’t fully ready for sex, and the furthest you’d ever gone was some oral stuff for him, and one night your shirt and bra came off while he rubbed you over your jeans, but Ethan was more than okay to wait for sex with you, because he loved you, and wanted you to be ready before you took things to the next level.

Once you were in different areas of the country, you were starting to regret not having sex with Ethan. You regularly found yourself thinking about his hands on you, and how loving he was, and how he never tried to push past the boundaries you’d set in place. He’d been so patient with you, even though he wanted it so badly.

You’d just got home from your last class of the day when you crawled onto your bed and pulled out your laptop to work on your assignments, when you heard your phone vibrating on the bed beside you. You quickly answered it once you saw Ethan’s name.

“Hey, babe,” you said, your sweet voice making him smile on the other end of the call. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” he sighed, “I’ve been missing you so much today.”

“Only two more weeks, and you’ll have me all to yourself,” you said, as he lightly chuckled.

“I can’t wait.” You could hear the happiness in his voice as he spoke. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Well, my roommate is already at some huge frat thing with the sorority she’s rushing. I was planning on doing homework until I eventually pass out,” you said, laughing a little at how uninteresting your Friday night plans sounded. “What are you doing tonight?”

“My roommate is out tonight, too. We’re both loners,” he joked, as you scoffed.

“Too bad I’m not there with you,” you said, your bottom lip going in between your teeth as you thought about it. “Just curious, what would you do if I was there with you?”

“I’d give you so many hugs and kisses,” he said, as you smiled at how sweet he was.

“Is that all you’d want to do?” you asked, the tone of your voice a little different than Ethan was used to.

“Oh, um, cuddling, of course,” he said, as you started to giggle.

“What else would you do, baby?” you purred, “Because I can think of so many things.”

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice a little heavier as he got more comfortable on his bed.

“I can’t stop thinking about your hands on me,” you said, as you closed your laptop and laid back. “And how good it feels when you kiss my neck.”

“I uh…,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. You’d never tried to do something like this before, and he didn’t want to say anything to make you uncomfortable.

“Or how good it feels when you’re sucking on my nipples,” you said, as your hand started to teasingly run up your body.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighed, as he started to get hard in his jeans. “When you’re ready one day, I’d love to have my mouth all over your body.”

“Tell me about it. What would you do?” you questioned, as you sat up to pull your shirt over your head.

“I’d start with kissing your neck, because I know how much you like it. Then I’d kiss you down your chest, and I’d pay so much attention to your sensitive nipples,” he said, his voice a little raspy. “Then I’d kiss down your tummy, and fuck, I know you’d be breathing so heavy.”

“Keep going, baby,” you said, putting your phone on speaker as you sat it down beside you to unhook your bra.

“Then I’d get you out of your jeans, and after I had those off your legs, I’d start kissing you from your ankles to your thighs.”

You took your jeans off, too, getting wetter by the second at all the things Ethan was saying to you.

“Then I’d start rubbing you over your panties,” he said, as you started to run your fingertips over the soaked material in between your legs. A small gasp slipped past your lips at the feeling, as the realization hit Ethan that you were touching yourself. “I bet they’d be so wet.”

“They are,” you teasingly said, as Ethan groaned. “I think you should take your pants off.”

“Okay,” he said, and you soon heard the rustling of him quickly getting out of them.

“How hard are you right now?” you asked, as he let out a deep breath.

“So hard.”

“What else would you want to do?” you questioned, “Because I need to hear a little more.”

“I’d get you out of those panties,” he said, as you slid them down your legs. You heard rustling again on his end, you assumed he was taking off his boxers. “And then I’d explore your pussy with my tongue.”

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, as your fingers started to roll over your needy bundle of nerves.

“What are you doing, baby?” he asked, his breath a little heavy as he waited for your answer.

“Touching myself, wishing it was your fingers instead of mine,” you admitted, a soft moan slipping past your lips when you started to move your fingers faster.

“I was it was mine too, baby. I wish it was your hand on my cock right now,” he groaned, “How good does it feel?”

You didn’t answer him, the moaning that was getting a little louder letting him know what he needed to know. His hand sped up, a bead of precum dripping out of his tip as he listened to all the sounds you were making.

“Finger yourself, baby,” he groaned, as you stopped your hand movements and slid one finger into your tight, dripping pussy.

You pumped that single finger in and out before you tried to add another one. You were so wet, but it was still difficult for you to get it in.

“I don’t know how you’re going to fit inside of me,” you said, whimpering as you stretched yourself out. “I can barely take two fingers.”

“Oh fuck, you’re that tight, baby?” he asked, as he started to jerk his cock even faster. “I’d take such good care of you. I’d make you feel so good.”

Your mouth dropped open as you panted, your eyes closing as you tried to imagine Ethan doing all the things you were doing to yourself. You remembered how good his hands and mouth felt on other parts of your body, and when you thought about his mouth and fingers on your pussy, you felt your orgasm starting to build. You knew Ethan was getting close, the soft grunts slipping past his lips sounding the same as when you were on your knees for him before you left for college.

“I love the way you sound,” he grunted, “You’re doing such a good job at fingering that tight little pussy for me.”

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, “Keep talking to me like that, please baby.”

“Oh, you like dirty talk?” he chuckled through his panting, as you whined in response. “I bet your pussy tastes so good. I can’t wait to have my tongue inside of you. I can’t wait to be the one to have you making all those pretty little sounds.”

Ethan kept talking, as you placed your other hand on your clit, rubbing fast circles as you pumped your fingers in and out, angling them just right. Your hips started to arch off the bed, your entire body getting so hot as you whined out, your orgasm washing over you as your shaky hands tried to keep moving.

“Did you just cum all over your fingers, baby?” Ethan asked, a low groan slipping out as he waited for your answer.

“Yes,” you shakily whimpered, as you slowly slid your fingers out of your pussy. “Now I need you to cum for me.”

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, your name rolling off his tongue as he shot his cum all over his chest and abs.

As you lay on your bed, catching your breath, Ethan was laying on his, hours away from you, doing the same. You couldn’t stop smiling, your brain still hazy when Ethan spoke up.

“That was so hot…can we do that again sometime?”

“We could…or you could experience the real thing in two weeks…” you trailed off, Ethan’s eyes growing wide at your words.

“Are you sure, baby? I told you, I’ll wait as long as you want,” he said, as you sat up to put your clothes back on just in case your roommate came home earlier than expected.

“I know you would, but I love and trust you, and I know you’d take care of me. I want to have sex with you,” you said, smiling as you thought about it. “If you’re ready, that is.”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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hobiespick · 1 year ago

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Sam Winchester x reader headcanons part 2

<33

a/n : fuck it we ball sammy headcanons part 2, I made a shit ton of them (yeehaw i made another moodboard) hope you guys like my shitty thoughts (i am acting so nonchalant but i am actually shaking i'm so goddamn nervous) , thank you sm for all the likes and feedback ! Enjoy!

Summary : Headcanons I wrote for Sam x reader (can be read as gn!reader), very few are abt Dean, mention of Sam's childhood, Sam being head over heels for u, Sam being flirty, the reader is mentioned to be shorter/smaller than Sam.

-He carries around your hairties: around his wrists, the pockets of his brown jacket or his wallet - buys Dean bubblegum air fresheners for baby. - he's a communist so his favourite icecream flavour is berry - he is the one to tell you to please call him Sammy. You've never dared to call him that, you know he doesn't let anybody else call him that besides dean, your last wish is to make him uncomfortable or annoyed. Infantilizing a 6'4 man would be the most emmbarassing way to get dumped. - you would rather fall face first into the ground than actually call him that - so when it's a lazy day and you’re both laying in his bed (u were physically dragged there by the giant) you hear Sam mutter something tiredly in your neck as his koala grip on your waist gets tighter. "What was that?" You ask softly. He has to drag his head up and look at you his hazel eyes seem dark brown due to the lighting in the room and his hair is messy, strands sticking up and down, he looks adorable. "You can call me Sammy" he repeats himself clearly voice lower than usual but geniune as he rubs the back of his knuckles over his eyes. You smile fondly at him, "Ok" you reply using the same soft voice as if you replied with a voice any louder than that you would ruin his sleepy state. He nudges his head back into your neck with a satisfied sigh. You can't help but travel your hand up to his hair to run your fingers through it and kiss his temple. "Night, Sammy" you whisper. He mutters something else in your neck but you know it's 'goodnight', feeling him smile against your skin before falling asleep fast, a result of the level of trust he has in you.

- avril lavigne enjoyer (he is a teenage girl your honor) - you bother him with psyhological questions to scare him or something but he answers them with the same amount of melancholy for shits and giggles - he is a feminist

- really really likes sarcastic people, playing along with you, just shooting back snarky replies at eachother (he is flirting)

- likes being one of the very few people you trust - he also gets unconsciously close to you - you both could be in a large room (inside a haunted house probably) and he would still be right behind you, glued to you like a gum to a shoe - can you imagine not paying attention and walking right into him - me personally I would break my nose, have you seen his chest? holy fuck

- that one time you mouthed off a victims relative for not giving a fuck about his missing son but he got verbally agressive quick and Sam had to swoop in and save your ass, putting himself infront of you shielding you from the vic's relative calming the situation down imediately. - Dean unfortunately wasn't there, he was checking out some place where the vic might have been before they went missing, it was just you and Sam supporting (interrogating) the family - I am mentioning this because if Dean was in fact there things would escalate fast, you're basically his little sister.

- Dean probably loved indiana Jones as a kid ( dunno if this is canon or not I am on szn 2)

- you and sam were asking eachother questions, getting to know one another to pass the time once on some kind of stake out. - you asked him what was his favorite stuffed animal as a kid - he said he doesn't remember. (*sounds of uncontrolable sobbing coming from me n u*) - he asked you what was yours to change the subject - he would lie if he said that it didn't bother him, not remembering something normal people can easily recall from their childhoods - you replied back with your kid self fav stuffie smilling at the memory but feeling bad for Sam , heart aching at his confession - "i'm sorry you don't remember Sam." you say geniunely, how can someone be robbed of such a normal thing everyone should have? You've never wanted to buy someone a stuffed animal as bad as you do now. I know I am the one talking about "infantilizing a 6'4 man" but please, I can allow to contradict myself just this once. - he asked another question to shrug it off, he usually doesn't want anybody's pity, but yours felt honest, almost like his past hurt you too and he can't help but have the perverted need to tell you all about his fucked childhood, to have you hug him, maybe he was selfish and wanted desperately to be comforted by you. - "What was your favourite book when you were 13?" He skips past the subject quickly with an oddly specific question because he is Sam

- remembers Dean to drink water, Dean does the same with Sam just not verbally. Dean leaves water bottles where Sam can see them and Sam pretends to not notice it smilling to himself everytime he opens them and takes a sip

- gets some kind of sick twisted amusement from seeing you flustered (i'm so sorry I was literally talking about childhood trauma a min ago and now Sam is flirty) - example, you theorize with Sam about the monster you're having trouble identifying, he also can't hear you and you literally started muttering to yourself like a mad scientist, so to kill two birds with one stone he leans in dangerously close, looks you in the eye with a stoic expression and has the audacity to say "Hm? I'm sorry I can't hear you sweetheart." In his low drawl, LAWD HATH MERCY AHSHSBHAGA - he breaks character and smiles when he sees you get pulled out from your pondering haze - "M-might be a vengefull spirit." You repeat yourself, that little stutter and faint crimson on your cheeks shattering your whole 'badass, intimidating hunter' thingy you got going on in a matter of seconds, feeding his ego with a spoon.

- thinks it's cute when you and Dean act like siblings.

- he always knows what you need. "Sammy can you please give me my-" and you’re cut off by the sight of Sam already holding your sweater, the item of clothing looking ridiculously smaller in his hands. and if you jokingly ask him to put it on you too he just might (he is that head over heels for you) - if you ask him how did he know you wanted your sweater he would reply with something along the lines of "I saw it in my visions." sarcastic little shi- - he saw you running your hands up and down your arms before asking him - and since he is boyfriend coded, it's in his instinct to know what to do

- if he was feeling cute he would've enveloped you in a bear hug in order to warm you up.

- if you see him reading please pick up that unread book i know u have on your nightstand and read beside him. It can be your lil cute routine, can you imagine he just drags u to the couch or his bed, holding 2 books one of yours and one of his because it's comfy reading time, oh you're alone doing nothing? nah BAM QUALITY TIME BIATCH

a/n: kinda lost sleep because of these but it's fine, I also think imma post and write for fun ,still learning the ropes of writting but uh yeah, again hope you guys like these feedback would be very much appreciated! 🫶

#sam winchester x reader #spn #dean winchester #supernatural #jared padalecki #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles #supernatural headcanon

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galaxygurlll · 7 months ago

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First Day - Aussie GP 2019 - Part 1

A new team? With two females? This is unheard of and will most certainly shake things up in F1! Meet Y/n Rose-Ocean and Evelyn Match as they get assigned seats into a new team into the F1, Porsche Royal racing. Y/n holds the number 38 whilst Evelyn holds the number 72. The two are introduced as rookies in the 2019 season, but, their area has been yet to be revealed, it being closed by tarps, and the two girls' identities have also remained a secret. Over time, even though she’s one of the youngest, she soon becomes the “grid aunt” and even “grid older/younger sister” as well.

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Previous chapter

Introduction: https://www.tumblr.com/galaxygurlll

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⬆️The Porche car

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y/n_ roseocean ✹

708 posts 1.63M followers 2003 following

🇦🇺 Formula 2 driver, photographer/videographer, youngest of 5, childhood bestie and fellow driving partner to evelynmatch7, and mother to my beautiful baby boy, River Scott!!! Oh! Also, I'm Vegan!

Followed by evelynmatch7, lance_stroll and 212 others

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NOTIFICATION ALERT!

1 NEW POST FROM y/n_roseocean

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My breakfast today!! Also just got back from my run as well 💜

❤️ 569K 💬 4,358 ✈️ 2,902

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evelynmatch7 Yes best friend! You go, queen!! But why so eeearlyyy...??? ❤️ by author

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evelynmatch7 wowww... no response, I see how it is girly ❤️ by author

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allieform1 So good to see you happy and healthy!! ❤️ by author

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- y/n_roseocean So good to feel happy and healthy again!!!

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cloversand889 Ughhh I wish I could be like this daily

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-Y/n pov-

"Ev?" The older girl hums in response whilst looking out the one-way blacked-out windows, "I'm scared..." This causes her to turn to me, "What if no one likes us? I mean, there is absolutely no warning for this to be happening and-" she cuts me off with her left hand going over my mouth, "Y/n, sweetheart, we will be okay. If they hate us, they hate us. If they love us, they love us. Don't let that get to your head though, okay?" She asks and tells me to which I nod.

Upon removing her hand, she pulls me into a side hug before she grabs out her phone and we take a selfie together that will most likely be posted later on, after this scary reveal; if all goes down well, that is. Today, we're just checking out the track and area before FP1 in the next few days, but will need to wear our hoods up and glasses on as we can't be found out, not yet at least. Lance has somewhat caught on, but neither Ev nor I have given him a 'yes' or a 'no' answer.

The grid line-up is powerful, which is why I am worried.

Evelyn Match. Where do I even start with this girl? She's the sweetest human being alive but can also cause the most havoc if and when she wants to. She's a 24-year-old Thailand girl and is, obviously, a Formula (1) driver with me. Her hair is jet black and is quite long with chocolate oak eyes and relatively tanned skin. Being 5'8, she towers over me and my shorter form (NOTE: Doing it this way is easier for me to write for right now) which is hilarious to her but can also be seen as quite cute and adorable. Especially in arguments. She's been there for me since I was around 14 years old and she was 20 years old. Been a rock for me. Love her so very much.

"Y/n!" I jump and face Ev who looks at me pointingly, "We're here," she informs me and I look out the window that's to my left and see it there, my home track, the Australian Grand Prix. As quickly as possible, both me and Ev put on our sunnies and pulled up our hoods before checking each other to make sure that no hair stood out before grabbing our backpacks and jumping out on either side.

It's around 4:20am, and the only reason that we're here early, is to make sure that we can make it to the garage without anyone spotting us. My dad hops out of the driver's seat as one of my four older brothers, Javier, jumps out of the passenger seat. See, my four brothers and I, we're all adopted by two loving and caring fathers that adopted us all when we were just babies, me, of course, being the last one. Dominic is referred to as Dad, is 48 years old and is Australian/Greek and works as an all-round teacher at one of the schools close by whilst my other parent, Miguel, goes by Papá, is 59 years old, is Spanish and owns his own multi-milliner company that owns many music producing buildings and also does financial stuff that I find boring.

My eldest brother, Nolan, was born in America and is currently 29 years old and is an author, the next one down, Hassan, was born in India and is currently 27 years old and works as a baker by day and chef by night, the one after that is Javier, originally from Spain and was adopted at two years old and is now 26 and is a DJ, and the last brother of mine, Atlas, was born in Greece and is currently 24 years old and is a dancer/actor. And then, we have me. Y/n Rivera García Luna Ramírez Scott, an 18-year-old girl born and partially raised in Australia, Victoria, Melbourne, who had a passion for karting that started at the young age of 5 years old. I just use a nickname that was given to me by some of my close friends when I was around 7 years old as my last name on Instagram, Rose-Ocean, because I love both of those things. I still don't know why my parents adopted so many kids. And the fact that they accept me with my little adopted baby boy, River. But, that'll come later on. BACK TO THE STORY!

Of course, I couldn't hide this from some of my closest friends though, who, have also moved up in Formula 1 this year! That being - George Russell, who's driving for Williams, Alex Albon, who's driving for Toro Rosso, and finally, Lando Norris, who's driving for McLaren. They've actually kept this secret quite well, surprisingly well. Admittedly, I haven't known these boys as long as they've all known each other, only really knowing them for around two-three years prior to this year, but it's been great. Ev also reckons that I should let Lance know (even though he most likely, or even most definitely, already knows) but I just don't want to, just not yet at least.

As us four make our way through, we're greeted by the Team Principal, Aurel Hartmann, who is a 47-year-old man from Germany and is very kind and generous yet stern man who also hired his younger brother, Urs Hartmann, 35, as my performance engineer for the team. Ev has Callum Maxwell, 40, Scottish as hers. As he (Aurel) leads us towards the still hidden garage of Porche Racing, I'm getting nervous about hearing, and seeing, who mine and Ev's race engineers will be as all we've been told is that we'll be quite happy and pleased with them.

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-Time skip to garage, 3rd pov-

The group quickly sneak into the garage that is still yet to be uncovered, but will be on Thursday on media day which is in two days time. The girls are handed some booklets that hold what the final looks of their racing suits look like and stuff like that.

⬆️The racing suit

⬆️The racing helmet

The sponsors are also listed on the front, throughout on the edges, and on the back:

MECCA, Milo, KFC, ROBLOX, Headspace, Starbucks, Universal Studios, Pinterest, Upfield Holdings, and Dunkin' Donuts. Weird mix and a lot, am I right? I know. This is a lot to still take in for the two females as what they are going to be doing, will forever change this sport, forever.

Aurel then proceeds to lead the four of them over to the cars (see at top) that the girls will be driving during the Free Practices, Q1, Q2, Q3, and the races in the near and coming future. The girls have already been introduced to their cars but Dominic and Javier have not and they are in complete and utter awe. Javier has been in two garages before in the past, that being Red Bull and Mercedes, but never one like this. The car is new and freshly coated and has that new smell to it that everyone loves. The garage feels so lively and has a sweet sugary smell to it that is probably from the lollies that are alongside the back wall that also has other treats that are both sweet, savory and sour, sith some vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian and other diet food placed neatly around the large set-up.

Mechanics are hustling around going from place to place whilst saying their greetings and all in all, it's just a very happy and lively place to actually be inside of. It's beautiful. So very beautiful. Stunning, even. "You can take a closer look if you'd like Dominic and Javier," Aurel informs the two who then look like it's a full-time dream come true.

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Next chapter

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/galaxygurlll

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#formula 1 #f1 2019 #f1 driver!reader #lando norris #george russell #alex albon #lance stroll #max verstappen #lewis hamilton

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moonlightazriel · 2 years ago

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The truth about you /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Azriel knew everything about her and her family filled with criminals, or that's what he thought, what if the truth was different from what he have heard?

Warnings: Angst, fluff and a bit of smut.

Word Count: 2,9K

Notes: I think I'm slowly finding my way back into writing and it feels so good, this has been sitting on my drafts for a while but still needed to finish it, but here we are. I'm feeling better and thank you for all the patience and support.

Main Masterlist

“I have a mission for you.” These were the words that led him there, the task was simple, receive a package, and take back to the House of Wind. The problem? The package came in the form of a beautiful woman, with dark hair reaching her waistline, cunning brown eyes, and too much attitude.

She kept looking around Velaris all the way until he should fly her to the House, stating that she never saw such a beautiful place before, and would be a nice place to stay for a while. Azriel admired her figure as they walked, she was just a few inches shorter than him and her clothes were a bit too tight on her curvy body.

The stranger also smelled really nice as he pulled her closer, bringing her up and flying towards the balcony of the House of Wind, where Rhys was waiting for them. She clung to him but took the flying adrenaline incredibly well for someone wingless. He smirked at that, liking how she wasn’t afraid of falling to the city below.

Whowever, his hopes of even becoming her friend vanished as Rhysand opened his mouth, greeting her with a rather cheerful “Y/N Caidan, what a pleasure to meet you.” The only daughter of Eldar Caidan, a very wanted man on the Illyrian Steppes for numerous crimes. He felt disgusted, wanting to get as far as he could from her. That was the beginning of his torment.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She moved her hips as she walked, knowing that this drove him mad and his eyes were glued to her back as they made their way to Rhysand’s office, she could hear the annoyed huffs he let out, so used to them in the two years they’d been working together. Azriel wasn’t easy to deal with, especially with the unpleasant side he reserved especially for her.

Three knocks and Rhys shouted that they could come in, dropping the papers containing sensitive information on the dark wooden desk, she sat, legs crossed as she stretched her back, feeling her sore muscles ache from all the effort.

“As you asked Rhys, everything about those secret Illyrian reunions.” He looked at her, his eyes stopping at the fading purple marks around her eyes, behind her Azriel stood, silent as the dead.

“You two are a great duo, despite everything, thank you. You two can go and rest.” She nodded, walking out of the office and heading to her house in the town, all she could think was about the warm bath that she would take later.

“I don’t want to question your judgment, but why do you trust her, Rhys? Especially with this kind of mission.” He spoke, his throat dry as he barely used his voice in the week they’d been together on a mission.

“Because she’s good at what she does and she’s a good person.” Rhys spoke dryly, tired of this same conversation, this have been happening for the past two years without a break. Azriel had to stop the urge to roll his eyes at the answer.

“A good person that came from a family of criminals.” He knew he sounded like a whining kid but it wasn’t possible that he was the only one in his right mind that didn’t trust her, her family invaded Illyrian camps for years, murdering the females. Azriel had come to the camps a couple of times, blood everywhere, clothes sliced, and the smell of fear mixed with panic, and a scent so familiar the one lingering on her every damned time. If he closed his eyes, he could still see and smell the fresh blood. What made his blood run even colder was that they never left bodies behind, Mother knows what those monsters did with them.

“We cannot judge a child for the mistakes of their parents, can we?” It stung, cuz he knew that Rhysand was right, but he still couldn’t let his guard down around her, he knew that she was planning something, he just needed to figure it out.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How was the mission?” Morrigan asked, sipping on her glass of wine, while Y/N finished with the charcuterie board she was making for the two.

“Good, got everything that I needed, Azriel just made my life extremely difficult but I’m used to it by now.” She took a bite from a piece of cheese, took the board, and headed for the tiny balcony adorned with little lights and a great view of the Sidra, the soft summer breeze made her shiver a little but she sat down, with Mor following her closely.

“Maybe you should just tell him, I know he will understand.” She scoffed.

“Mor, are we talking about the same person? Azriel won’t understand, he won’t even listen to me. And I don’t want to share my story with him, if he doesn’t trust me, I don’t have any reasons to tell him. He can discover on his own if he wants to find the truth so bad.” Mor lifted her hands in surrender while Y/N took a long sip from her wine. “But at least I don’t mind looking at his pretty face.” Morrigan laughed.

“Don’t even tell me, the Mother took her time making that one, and I don’t even like men.” The two laughed.

“Morrigan, things got dirty and he headed to a lake to clean himself, I almost drowned in my drool as I watched the water run down those abs, he’s truly beautiful, such a shame he’s an asshole.” She gave Y/N a severe look.

“Even if I don’t agree, Azriel has been through a lot, he just doesn’t trust people easily, and with the outlaw fame your family has, he’s just waiting for the betrayal, once he sees that things aren’t always as they seem, you will see that he’s such a gentle and kind male, he has a good heart.”

“I know Mor, it’s just…. I’m tired of being judged and treated like a monster, he treats me so badly, he always questions my abilities and makes me feel like I’m less worth it, that I’m inferior to everyone.” Mor placed a warm hand on her knee.

“I’ll have another talk with him, he can hate you all he wants, but he won’t treat you like this.” Y/N smiled at her, feeling her heart warm at the thoughtful words of her best friend.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You hit like a girl.” Nesta teased and Y/N rolled her eyes, she aimed for Nesta’s right side, where she quickly went to defend but she turned the other way, hitting her left side, making the oldest Archeron gasp for air.

“Thanks!” She offered a hand to Nesta, which she gladly took, and the two headed to the water station on the other side of the ring, the sun was at its highest in the sky, making the temperature almost unbearable, only the girls were training today, so there was a lot of skin showing around that balcony.

She saw the shadows from the corner of her eyes before she saw the Shadowsinger, when she turned, he looked slightly paler, eyes wide and looking like he had seen a ghost, her skin felt uncomfortable under his gaze, still fixed on her, she quickly removed the tie from her hair, letting it fall behind her, hiding her exposed back as she darted out of the room.

“Cassian’s looking for you.” He managed to say, her smell still fresh in the air, and the image of her exposed back still replaying in his mind, two big scars marking each side of her shoulder blades, in the same place Illyrian wings should be. He turned on his heels, ready to follow after her, but Nesta stopped him.

“Azriel, don’t.” She warned him, her fingertips were cold against his skin, and he knew that he should let that go, for now.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The image of her scarred back didn’t leave his mind for days, and ever since he saw her, she’s been avoiding him, every time she sees him entering a room, her expression changes and she leaves immediately, this pissed him off a bit. But as much as he wanted to ask about it, he knew that he shouldn’t push her into answering, he would have to find it on his own.

Then, he was reminded why he didn’t trust her in the first place, as she poked her head outside Rhysand’s office, looking both sides and only stepping out when she was sure no one was around, a pile of papers clutched to her chest. A chill in his spine told him he needed to follow her and get to the bottom of his suspicions.

It was nightfall when she emerged out of her room, her leathers and weapons in place, her hair in a bun, she moved quietly, and as she passed by him, he could see that she had the reports on the northern camp that was supposed to receive new females in a few days, the papers tucked on the bag strapped around her torso. His blood ran cold as he understood what was happening.

She would take the information to her family and they would execute the females, he knew he had to stop her, but would be better if he stopped all of them at once. So he quietly followed her, for days, only stopping in an inn, she had taken a room and he was currently drinking some wine and eating the food offered there, regaining the energy to do what he had to.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N watched from the top of the stairs as her brother and cousin dragged the spymaster’s body with them, a lazy smirk on her lips as she thanked the innkeeper for helping her, a bag of gold coins dropped on the counter and she was on her way, to her family’s secret war camp.

“I’ll take care of him now.” She said as they all reached Miramaris, her family war camp. Azriel was still asleep as the males placed him in the chair, chaining him so he wouldn’t try to escape before she could explain.

Y/n watched him throughout the night, not even once looking away from him, she ran a hand through his soft hair, sighing as she stretched her part of the bond until it hit the emptiness on the other side as it hadn’t snapped for him yet. She had known he was her mate for about two months now.

A late night travel to the library, where he was also reading, it only took one look in her direction, him scoffing and getting up to leave for the bond to snap, leaving her astonished and stuck in the same place for a couple of minutes, wondering what teh hell would she do.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

His head hurt and everything felt dizzy, he didn’t recognize the room he was in, but he could tell the walls were made of stone, people walked outside and he could hear the sound of metal against metal like someone was training. His hands were restrained by chains and the was a soft light on top of his head.

The steps grew closer to his cell, the heavy door swung open and three males walked in, and behind them Y/N was smiling, approaching him.

“See that you met my family, quite nice people, don’t you think?” He scoffed.

“If you think murdering people is a nice thing, then sure, amazing people.” His tone was laced with sarcasm. He eyed Eldar and the other males with pure hatred, fighting against the chains, he tried to call for Rhysand but his mind was still too foggy to reach so far.

“He still thinks that’s what we do?” The older male asked and smiled. “Rhys will be quite disappointed that you think he would let us walk freely if we were really murdering these females.”

“Dad, let me do the talking, I’m used to the pretty frown by now.” His heart fluttered as the word pretty left her lips. “Maybe bring some food, chicken with mashed potatoes is his favorite.” Again, his heart beat faster as she spoke, does she really pay attention to him like that? Eldar nodded, patting his daughter on the head, he could see the love in the gaze he directed to her, at least he loved his daughter, he wasn’t a complete monster.

“I don’t want anything from you.” He spat, and she walked closer, lowering her body until they were facing eye to eye.

“And here I was, ready to give the only thing you’ve been wanting from me ever since we met.” He cursed as his traitorous mind wandered to where his darkest thoughts hid in his mind, the images that would come late at night when he was alone, of her, splayed open to him, soaking cunt as he readied himself to take her how he wanted, the number of times he touched himself thinking about her, he didn’t trust her in the slightest, but that didn’t mean he didn’t find her attractive.

Truth be told, he still thought about her, and her body drove him mad, usually after training he would rush to his room to take a cold shower to stop his furious hormones from making him walk to her room and do all the dirty things he wanted to do to her. The fact that he was head over heels for her only angered him more.

“I grew up in a very traditional Illyrian family, but you see, my grandfather used to think that clipping wasn’t enough, removing a female’s wings was the way to go for him.” Her hands grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting above her head, the laced black bra was hard not to look at, but his throat went dry as she turned her back to him, the scars were even uglier up close and he felt his heart clenched on his chest. “ My father only had enough courage to leave when he came home one day, he found my grandfather placing a new piece of decoration in the living room.” He knew what it was, but it didn’t hurt less as the words left her mouth. “My wings, so tiny, I was just a child. From that day, he swore no female would ever go through something like that again.”

She turned to him again, shirt going back to place, as their eyes met, hers were filled with tears.

“Do you wish to see our work?” He nodded and she motioned for him to follow but he shook his hands and she remembered about the chains. “Right, you’re cuffed. Would love to see you chained somewhere else but we don’t have time for that now.” The words sent a rush of blood straight to his cock.

He followed her, the mountain was warm, and as they walked around, he spotted hundreds of females, some training, some doing chores, but all of them were undeniably happy as they walked around with their wings held proudly behind them.

“Welcome to Miramaris.” She gestured to the open space. “We raid the camps, and we forge the scene, they don’t bother looking for them anyway. Started with small cabins and barely any resources, but as Rhys’s father learned about this place, he helped us, he was a disgusting man but even he knew this was wrong, Rhys kept helping us after, and he invited me to work with him closely after I've been targeted by a rival camp, he saved my life, and he knows what we’re doing. We’re not the monsters here Az.”

He felt bad for all this time he judged her without even bothering to learn the truth about her. They were looking to an open field, some females were bathing in a lake that crossed the mountain. There were hundreds of them, even children were running around, this place was everything he dreamed for the camps to be.

“I don’t even know how to apologize to you.” He said honestly.

“Help us save them, the females need me, they need us. You can come with me as my partner… “Nothing would’ve prepared him for the words that left her mouth next. “As my mate!”

“Your what?” He looked at her incredulously.

“That night in the library? Where I found you in your cute pajamas?” The memory came back to him and he nodded. “ It was when it snapped for me, decided to tell you cuz you know the truth now and I would like to be told if it was the other way around.” He nodded, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the information he received in a short amount of time. “You don’t have to say anything, but if you’re willing to give this a try, meet me tomorrow night right here, we have more females to save.” She said, turning her back to him and walking away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

He saw her before she saw him, and as he watched her frame lean against the wall, dressed all in black and looking around expectantly, he felt, the bond making itself known for him, he could feel her on the other side, waiting for him with a warm heart filled with love, love for him.

“You came.” She smiled. Her eyes glowing with emotion as she felt a wave of feeling flooding her chest and as she reached for the other side of the bond, Azriel was there, waiting for her with open arms.

“I would never let my mate go alone, never again.” He pulled her close, hand wrapped around her waist as he kissed her, her soft lips made him feel at home as she kissed him back. “Let’s go and rescue them.” He said, grabbing her in his arms, she let out an excited squeal as he leaped to the sky, taking her with him.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #azriel #moonlightazriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris

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lalal-99 · 1 year ago

Text

of sex at parties {h.j.} | track 4

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6k

Synopsis: The one where you play Truth or Drink and things get a little heated.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I know, I know... I wanted to have shorter chapters and update more frequently. But life happens. And it just so happens that I rediscovered my love for music making and production (not that anyone cares or even reads my notes). These things tend to engulf me fully and don't let me go until I'm forced out of them. When will I post the next chapter? Who knows? Could be tomorrow. Could be in two months (not likely...).

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

“That’s almost too easy! Fuck Psy, Marry Bang PD and Kill JYP. Next!”

Yuqi’s answer sent Hwasa into a fit of laughter, almost bursting her pipes as she spat her drink into the nearby sink.

“Girl, you got some explaining to do about that.” When Wheein had prompted the blonde, she likely hadn’t expected an answer within two seconds.

“What do I have to explain about that? JYP was the obvious choice for Kill. Psy is famously known as the mother-father gentleman, so Fuck. And Bang PD…He has that TXT money. So, marry him and hopefully prevent him from signing any kind of prenup.” Yuqi took a sip from her cocktail, shrugging. The answer sent Hwasa straight into another breathless cough while her girlfriend steadied her. Otherwise she would have also sent her head straight into the marble countertop.

Two hours of dancing and three of Yuqi’s mysteriously strong cocktails after your arrival, you found yourself back in the kitchen. While all your closest friends surrounded you, everything seemed just a bit brighter. And a bit more funny too, with the alcohol running through your system. You were so relaxed even, you had somehow agreed to playing a few rounds of Truth or Drink. That you barely knew these people, or maybe because of it, you found yourself enjoying it more than usual.

So much so you had played it for the past 20 minutes, passing around questions with one simple rule. Either answer or empty your drink.

Sure, the gamification of drinking wasn’t the most intelligent decision. But it also gave you the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better. So, what the heck!

“Okay, fair.”

Yuqi spun the bottle once Wheein had passed her answer as acceptable. The rim landed on Changbin this time, the only male in your group. Leaned back against the counter, you had almost forgotten he was present. Well, almost, hadn’t it been for his visible affection for Yuqi. He always laughed at her answers a bit too loud, looked at her a little too long. She had ignored him for the most part, though you doubted it was out of spite or disinterest. She didn’t even realise his attempt to grab her attention; too drunk and into the game.

Changbin waited for her question, watching her lips move as she phrased it seconds later.

“Body count. Go!”

A little cliché, yes, though the boy seemed indifferent about it.

“Depends. What body count are we talking about?” Changbin counter-questioned as he crossed his buff arms over his bottle.

“What kind of freaky stuff are you into that you have several types of body count?”

Redness spread from Changbin’s cheeks to his ears as he shifted.

“I’m not into anything weird,” he defended, embarrassed by her suggestion. “I was talking more about sex or, like, mouth and hand stuff.”

“Alright. Let’s do sex.” That gave him base to answer.

“Then two.”

“Two?” Hwasa was surprised, leaning forward as she propped herself onto the countertop. She was a little shaky, swaying back and forth on her elbows.

“Yes. You sound shocked.”

“Why so few?” Yuqi’s filter had subsided somewhen between drinks four and five. The words simply tumbled out of her mouth at this point.

“Because,” Changbin shifted his weight onto the other leg, stalling. Not that his answer was particularly weird as it was double your body count, after all. But you couldn’t deny your own surprise. Until now, he had seemed very sure of himself. Carrying himself with a fair amount of self-confidence; almost oozing sex-appeal. You, too, had expected his body count to be much higher. “I don’t sleep with anyone I’m not involved with. I had two long-term relationships in High School, back-to-back. So, two people’s not weird.”

“What about the hand and mouth stuff body count?”

Changbin smirked at Yuqi’s curiosity, bringing his bottle to his lips, “Only one question per round.”

“Suspicious,” Yuqi’s eyes narrowed, “but alright.”

“Great, my turn then.” Changbin spun the bottle and the cap-part landed on Hwasa. She straightener her back, daringly waving her hands at him.

“Hit me!”

Contemplating his options, Changbin took a few seconds to find an appropriate question. Which wasn’t easy seeing he didn’t know and had barely spoken to her. “Okay. What was the most public place you ever had sex in?” Considering the expected sexual direction this game had taken, the question was fitting.

Hwasa ran her long nails through her hair, eyes fixing on Wheein in deep thought. “There’s been a few. What do you think, babe?”

“I don’t know. The whirlpool at my parent’s house?”

“Nah. That’s still pretty private. Your parents weren’t even home.”

Searching the mental drawers of her brain, Hwasa found a more fitting memory. She sent a knowing look towards her girlfriend, logging in her final answer. “I know. When we did at the movies.”

Wheein cocked an eyebrow as she took a strong sip from her drink. Her gaze, meanwhile, remained fixed on the colourful liquid, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah... That wasn’t me.”

“Of course it was!” Hwasa exclaimed, gesturing with her hands to revive the memory. “We watched that awful Tom Cruise movie.”

“I’ve never seen a Tom Cruise movie in my life.”

Hwasa should have left it at that, but her intoxicated brain didn’t take the hint. Knowing the crucial details of their backstory together—courtesy to Yuqi and her impressive interrogational skills—you sent her warning glares. Though she was too focused on her girlfriend to notice.

As extroverted as you had learned her to be, Hwasa had her fair share of relationships in the past. She had been with many men and women alike; some more serious and others not so much. Like her friends-with-benefits situation with Jackson, for example. After dating a lot through High School and the first two years of college, she eventually met Wheein. They loved each other very much, as anyone could tell after spending a few hours with them. An unspoken dynamic remained nonetheless, with Wheein being far less experienced.

She had been with men only for the first 20 years of her life. It took her another year to realise why her interest in them had never stuck. And another year after that to come to terms with her sexuality. That’s when she met Hwasa, their eventual relationship the first serious one she had ever been in. Let alone with a woman.

For as much as they loved each other, Wheein became insecure whenever Hwasa mentioned her previous partners.

So, yes. Hwasa should have probably let it be. But she didn’t.

“Erm, we sure did. I can’t believe you don’t remember. We got one of those loveseats in the last row, but the movie was so bad we started making out and stuff.” She didn’t need to explain and stuff further for you to know what she was hinting at. “I distinctly remember because my hair kept tangling up in your earrings. Almost lost an ear for sex that day.”

Clearing her throat, Wheein stepped back to lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Wasn’t me. See.” She lifted her hair, showing her ears to her girlfriend. It took a few seconds to realise her ears weren’t pierced. “It must have been one of your exes.”

A veil of tension spread over you at the hint of malaise in her voice. Hwasa’s cheeks heated up, a manicured nail between her teeth at the realisation.

“Oops.”

Despite the music blasting through the speakers, the silence was thick. It broke only once Yuqi spoke up. You had never been happier about her ability to find the place to pick up previous conversations.

“I had sex in a whirlpool once.” Heads turned in her direction as her face scrunched up at the memory. “Very sexy, but not comfortable. And then there’s the issue of protection. Who in their right mind carries a condom when sitting in a whirlpool?”

“So? What did you do?” Changbin’s curiosity was very sparked.

“We took a chance.” A shockwave overtook the crowd as though Yuqi had said something controversial. “I know. I’m not proud of it, either. But as I said, it was very sexy, and we didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“I definitely do not recommend taking a chance. Especially not for the sake of not ruining the mood.”

All eyes turned to you as you spoke, only acknowledging your words once they had come out of your mouth. Maybe you should go slower on the alcohol, as your body started to act on its own account.

“Speaking from experience?” Hwasa questioned with a smirk as you took another sip from your drink before finally setting it down.

“A friend of mine,” you explained, crossing your arms as you leaned against the fridge behind you. “She winged it once and got pregnant.”

“Damn! How old was she?”

“14 and a half.”

“That’s rough. Did your friend keep it?”

“He’s turning four in November.”

Most colour drained from Yuqi’s face at those words and a shudder ran through her body. “Now I’m kinda glad the only thing I got from my story was a cold.”

The crowd fell into a bunch of giggles at Yuqi’s honesty, the tensive mood finally fading. She should consider her ability to cut right through tension a gift.

Your gaze tiptoed through the doorway into the living area where they met a familiar figure. Over the past half-hour, you had searched his attention on occasion. The alcohol in your system encouraged the search for proximity to Jisung. Now that you had reached the early morning hours, the crowd started dissolving, and it became much easier for you to follow his movements. That he had the same urge for your closeness hadn’t gone by you. Several longing gazes had found you, which the vibrating egg inside you had at least some part in.

Jisung was still with most of his friends—sans Changbin, who was with you, and Felix, who had left a while ago. Instead, a few girls had entered the chat, most prominently a girl around your age and height. Why was she so prominent? Well, she seemed to find anything and everything your boyfriend said hilarious. She threw her black bob-cut-hair back so much, you feared she'd break her neck. She had started a conversation with your boyfriend earlier and now hung on his every word.

While you had checked their whereabouts at first, you stopped once you noticed Jisung’s nonverbal cues. The constant gazes your way and his lip wandering between his teeth with every uncomfortable chuckle. They told you he did anything but enjoy the banter the skimpily-clad girl had engaged him in.

Your suspicion proved correct when Jisung reached into his pocket and the vibrations picked up. Reassurance, that while he was talking to someone else, his mind was still entirely with you.

You probably should have helped out your boyfriend. You knew he couldn’t act on his unwillingness to continue talking to her. Though Jisung had to learn to handle such situations at some point. And you were having such a blast with your friends, so you let him be. The group was still debating their most public sexcapades and your head turned back as your lips wrapped around your bottle.

Apparently, your diverting glances hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Are you not bothered by that?”

Looking down at yourself, you feared your outfit had malfunctioned in some way. You knew you shouldn’t have worn a skirt to a frat party, but Yuqi had convinced you out of your faded black jeans. You always wear them. Spice it up a little. Unbeknownst to her, you had already spiced it up, the egg inside you rubbing against your walls with delicious pressure. But you still let yourself be talked into the skirt. Now, you regretted all your life decisions as a group of people stared at you.

“Why? What is it?” You searched your outfit for the origin of Hwasa’s statement.

“I’m talking about your boyfriend. Talking to another girl.”

You found the two of them again, eyes wandering up and down the girl’s sporty figure. Her long legs were clad in skin-tight jeans that reached her narrow waist. A crop top and pair of spotless white sneakers rounded off her athletic look. Her hand ran through her jet-black hair and that was all it took to detect that she was flirting. If her longing glances at Jisung hadn’t already been hint enough.

“And a pretty one,” Yuqi added as you focused on the group again, shaking your head.

“Not really, no. Why? Should I?”

“I don’t know. I’d be if it were my girlfriend, talking to her.” Wheein blushed at Hwasa’s words, damage control overshadowing her previous insecurity.

“I wouldn’t be too worried,” Changbin interjected, grabbing your attention. “She’s been coming on to each of us at least once tonight. She started off with Chris and made her way down the line.”

“Even if she didn’t. They’re only talking.” You met Jisung’s gaze, his lips morphing into a smile once he noticed. The vibrations spiked on cue, and it took a little more focus from you not to react. “I trust him.”

Little could have destroyed the trust you had for each other. Either of you understood that you had gotten lucky. Being with your best friend and finding your soulmate this early on. Apart from that, neither of you had ever given the other a reason to mistrust them. You were smart enough to not let anything risk what you had.

When Jisung excused himself from the group, your sense of awareness was proven yet again. He left the girl mid-conversation to join your separate party which filled you with pride. His cheeks squished into their usual round shape as he beamed at you until he landed at your side.

“Are you talking about me, or am I so pretty you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

Your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you from behind and his chin landed on your shoulder. “It’s when he says things like that, that I know I’m stuck with him for life.”

The girls and Changbin chuckled at your words, Jisung meeting your gaze with a frown.

“What?”

“Nothing, baby. I love you.”

The stupid grin forming on his lips warmed your heart. “Love you, too.”

Your group picked up their game of Truth or Drink while your boyfriend stood wrapped around you. You tried focusing while Hwasa spun the bottle to land on you. The alcohol in your system caused a constant buzz, goosebumps rising as she asked you about secret kinks.

Your friends went positively berserk when you told them about your exhibitionistic tendencies. Not you. Not well-behaved Y/N, who never even swore. You refrained from further mentioning how you sometimes ditched underwear in everyday situations. Yuqi’s eyes would have probably bulked out of her skulls, comic-book-style. You also didn’t note your fondness of public play, fearing Hwasa would suffocate, forgetting to breathe.

“Sorry, but I can’t believe we could walk in on you two getting your freak on, entering a lecture hall. Or the cafeteria. Or the football court. Although…Would we walk out on you in that case?” Hwasa questioned once she had found the brainpower to pick her jaw up from the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you told your friend in amusement. “We’re pretty good at hiding. You wouldn’t even know we’re there.”

A whole new set of toxins filled your bloodstream as you talked something so dirty. Quickening palpitations were enforced by your boyfriend, pulling you closer against himself. The mere mention of your spicy secret was enough to drive him crazy. He seemed even more excited, being the only one knowing you were living your kink right that second.

Your very sexy, very tempting boyfriend shared your interest in all things exhibitionist. Although you usually kept the PDA down whenever around people. Sure, you exchanged kisses here and there. But even hugging typically only occurred when no one was around. It was somewhat precautional. So people around you weren’t even slightly suspicious when you decided to go commando. Or if either of you controlled whatever Bluetooth vibrator the other was wearing. No one would suspect anything like that from the couple that hardly held hands in public.

Your friends accepted your revelation after many more questions, which remained unanswered. They went off-topic—or rather, off you as the focus of it—as they debated their willingness to have sex in public. And you didn’t dare complain.

This way, no one noticed Jisung’s hand creeping up the back of your thigh until he reached your ass. He kissed the back of your neck, blowing cool air against the moist skin as it tickled you. Trying to stay calm and keep your secret antics secret from your friends was half the fun. You bit the inside of your cheek as his breath tickled you, his teeth soon moving to nibble at your earlobe.

The two of you swayed to the music, concealing your ass which was grinding against his growing bulge. It was no surprise when you felt him stiffen against the movement, a proud smirk appearing on your face.

Your ability to turn each other on in seconds was still as present as during the first few weeks together.

“Baby,” Jisung hummed against your ear, hands grabbing your hips to still you.

“Mhm.”

The music was loud, and the people around you were drunk enough so no one could follow your conversation.

“It’s been about three hours of me playing with you like this. How about we tend to that upstairs bedroom situation?”

“I don’t know.” The wondering tone in your voice was fake, teasing, and Jisung could tell. “I’m not convinced. Also, kinda having a blast here.”

“I don’t think this is a matter of conviction,” Jisung whispered, lips wandering over your neck. His hands travelled under your shirt, fingers digging into your flesh as he manhandled you towards the exit. “It’s been over a week since we last did it. You’re as desperate as I am.”

“Am I?”

“We should go upstairs. You know, to check.”

Inspecting your surroundings, right now seemed the best possible moment to leave. Everyone was deep in conversation, attention straying from the two of you.

“Okay. But let’s make this quick. Wouldn’t want to miss too much of the party.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m gonna be real fast.”

Jisung took you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen and towards the staircase at the back of the room. You looked back at the group as Oohs and Get Its were thrown your way and gave your friends a thumbs up.

From that moment on, your mind was on Jisung.

You ran up the stairs behind him, and into the dim, unoccupied hallway. Once you had ensured you were on your own, you pulled Jisung back to finally kiss him.

His hands came to your hips on impact, keeping you steady against him as your mouth opened to let him in. Tongues intertwining and teeth clashing, he stepped forward, pushing you against the wall. Jisung didn’t take a breather, grinding himself against you and giving you no time to think. People could have come out of one of the rooms at any point, catching you. Not a hint of secrecy remained as the alcohol and your boyfriend’s tasted roamed your veins.

Soon enough, his mouth travelled down your jaw, tongue meeting the skin of your throat in a longing suck. He went all in, his hands running up your body until he met your breasts. The pressure against your throat provoked a throaty moan.

You hummed at his actions, feeling even more desperate for his full attention.

With your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer to your chest, his lips soon pressed against your cleavage. It reddened under his kisses and your breathing accellerate as he rubbed over your nipples. H knew your body better than you, strong arms keeping you in place as he handled you the way that always made you go crazy. Made you crave him.

“Baby—” you groaned into the air, head thrown back to grant him more access to your neck.

“Told you, you were as desperate as me.” The smugness in his voice remained uncommented as both his hands dipped under your bra. He pinched your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs and you ground yourself against him. A gush of wetness filled your panties as though they weren’t already soaked. It had been hours of him, controlling the vibrations inside you. “I bet you’re leaking out of your panties.” Jisung’s hand ran down your side until it reached the edge of your skirt. He felt below it, fingers dancing over your hot skin until his palm landed at your centre, cupping you. A groan left his lips. “Mhm, just like I said. You’re dripping.”

“Fine. You caught me,” you admitted with a sigh. “What are you gonna do about it, though?”

His face remained close as he turned the vibrations to the max, giving you no chance to prepare. Bending your knees at the rush of pleasure, you moaned into his mouth, pleading up at him. With his hand still cupping you, he could feel every contraction of your walls. Two of his fingers pushed the egg deeper into you. His palm against your clit further increased the electricity coursing through your veins.

“Did you say something?” Your mind blurred from the vibrations as mumbled pleas tumbled over your lips. Jisung smirked at your inability to form words, the toy slowing down after a while. “Didn’t think so.”

When he opened the door to the first bedroom he found, you followed him inside. Before he could even ask you to strip, you were already starting to undress. You were about to take your skirt off when Jisung stopped you with a request you couldn’t find it in you to deny.

“Leave it on.”

Of course, your insatiable, horny boyfriend would want to fuck you in a mini-skirt. You hadn’t worn anything that short in years. Add stockings and a cropped Rolling Stones shirt, and this would have come close to the outfit you had met him in.

Jisung removed his clothes, tight jeans requiring more attention as he struggled pushing them over his erection. After watching him take forever to rid himself of the confines, you decided to help him. Guiding his hands away from his crotch, you took over. A suggestive smile played on your lips as you held eye contact, dragging the pants over him and down his toned legs.

He expected you to lay back down once he was freed, letting him push you back into submission. Though, you had other plans at that moment.

Stripping your boyfriend of his briefs, his length looked too delicious to let the moment go by. So, you leaned in and took him into your mouth.

First, you concentrated on the head. You let the tip of your tongue dance over him before adding further lip action. After mere seconds, he was red and swollen, droplets of white crawling down the sides. He was twitching against your lips, head rolling back at the delightful dissatisfaction. Slow-paced ministrations were as arousing to him as they were frustrating, so you already expected his irritation.

Not a minute later, Jisung’s hands crept to the back of your head, attempting to guide you further down. In the current power position you found yourself in, you wouldn’t have any of that.

“Don’t move, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“’s not enough,” Jisung mumbled but complied, hands resting on your cheeks instead. “I need more.”

“I know. Just enjoy.”

You moved back to his head, sucking at him as your fingers dug into his thighs. They twitched against your touches, every other suck making him weak in the knees as they buckled.

Once Jisung started panting, you sped up, fitting more of him into your mouth. You could tell it became harder for him to hold back, hips bucking into your mouth on occasion. You didn’t stop him, enjoying his despair for the warmth and the lustful sight only you could provide him with. It made you feel powerful, the dominant side overtaking the logical one as you took him as deep as possible.

Gagging around him, a breathy “Fuck!” escaped him as he got oh so close to his orgasm. At some point, he must have taken the remote control out of his pocket. As he was nearing the edge, the vibrations increased, causing a moan to slip past your lips and around his length. He stifled an ecstatic scream with the back of his hand.

Your performance suffered for a mere second and Jisung took the opportunity to pull out. With new-found energy, he shoved you to lay on your back.

Typically, you held the more dominant position in bed. Sending your boyfriend to heaven by riding him like there was no tomorrow. All the more exciting was it when Jisung was so on edge he couldn’t stand your teasing. When he couldn’t wait to be inside you. That’s when he used his physical superiority to overpower you and have it his way.

You definitely had a soft spot for how he dominated you when he was particularly desperate.

With your back against the mattress and his arms on either side of your waist, there was no way for you to get up. Jisung used this advantage to connect his mouth to your breast, sucking at your nipple like you loved. Your eyes rolled back at the incredible sensitivity of each of his touches. After spending significant time at your chest—granting both sides the same amount of attention—he kissed his way further down. He flipped your skirt up and over your stomach, your underwear long stripped and you left exposed.

Desperate to get inside you, you expected him to remove the vibrator and replace it with himself. When he started kissing your thighs and stomach, you were surprised. Though you didn’t dare complain. Not when his lips burned your skin, threatening to leave lingering marks.

“So sweet.”

He didn’t mean for you to hear the whispered words against your core. The smile creeping onto your face turned to a loud moan as Jisung dove in. His lips found your clit, wrapping around it in a harsh hug. When he started sucking on you, the vibrations speeding up again, you believed you saw stars.

Your vision blurred, eyes moving to watch him, but you could barely make out shapes. Too overwhelming was his mouth on you, hips soon rolling against him to urge for more speed. A smirk against your flesh was followed by him repositioning your legs over his shoulders. It made him feel so much closer, your bodies basically becoming one. His mouth practically glued to your cunt.

At first, Jisung kept an agonising slow pace, eating you like he had all the time in the world. After a while, as your breathing sped up, so did your boyfriend’s mouth. For every count that your heartbeat accelerated, so did he. Licking a little preciser, sucking a little fiercer. All the while, he was grinding against the mattress, chasing his own release which was fast approaching. So much so you could tell from the humming against your core that sent shivers up your spine.

“Sungie—” you breathed out, hand coming to his hair to stop him. “Baby. Inside. Please.”

As he didn’t react at first, you thought he hadn’t heard you. You repeated your pleas, and finally, with a wall-tightening pull on your clit, he removed his lips from you. “I heard you the first time. Just couldn’t bring myself to stop yet.”

His words caused a breathy chuckle out of you as he took the vibrator out of you before kissing his way back up your body.

“You have protection?” you questioned as your fingers grazed his cheeks, heart eyes staring into your boyfriend’s.

“Always.” Connecting your lips in a soft kiss, Jisung got up for a few seconds to search his pants.

“Good thing we’re always prepared, huh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched your boyfriend take his wallet out of his pocket. All the talking about public sex and taking chances had unlocked some long overwritten memories, and you chuckled with an uncomfortable shiver. “At least now we are.”

The look on Jisung’s face faltered as he went through every compartment of his wallet. Once, twice, and then a third time. You could tell from his expression that something was wrong. “Actually, about that…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have condoms.”

“It seems like I forgot to fill up my stock. Don’t you have one with you?” Jisung asked, searching for your clothes on the bedroom floor.

“Have you seen my outfit? I barely have enough room for my phone.”

“Oh, I have seen your outfit, alright.” A suggestive smirk followed his reply as he climbed back over your body. “That skirt is doing things to me I can’t possibly put into words.”

Kissing you with more passion, Jisung’s lips soon wandered down your neck again.

“I could pull out.”

The laugh coming through your lips as you tilted your neck for better access was much sarcastic. “Have you learned nothing from the past? We are not taking chances.”

“So, we’re supposed to not have sex instead? Have you learned nothing from the past 20 minutes? We need this.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, view roaming through the room. Jisung’s gaze said something along the lines of ‘You have a plan, right?’. And a plan you had. Rolling out from under your boyfriend, you crawled over to the nightstand. “What’s one thing every frat always has at hand?” You pulled open the upper drawer, feeling its content as a smile spread on your lips. “I knew it.”

With an overjoyed “Yes!”, Jisung grabbed the silver square from your hands, opening it with his teeth. “This screams for a celebration?”

“What did you have in mind?”

The ambiguous grin crossing your boyfriend’s face made you curious and aroused you simultaneously. From experience, you knew his ideas in this area never quite disappointed. Most of them added into your bedroom routine; adapted into your standard practices.

Jisung soon crawled back over your body, erection pressing against your entrance as he held the vibrator between his fingers. “Baby?”

“Ssh.” One of his fingers came to your mouth as he smiled at you, happy. “Just enjoy.”

When he slipped inside you, your walls instantly wrapped around him. Sculptured for his exact shape and size. Having him this close, hitting your spot as though he himself had placed it right at his tip, filled you with complete satisfaction. You could have remained in this position for hours. Being close to him. Warming him. Though soon enough, the calm inside you was forced to evacuate, the electrifying vibration of the pink egg meeting your clit.

You jumped at the feeling that was only enforced as Jisung started moving. Rapidly. Sending you to heaven within seconds as you crumbled around him. Nothing but his name escaped your lips, like a holy mantra.

It didn’t take either of you long to finish, both of you on edge from having waited over a week to be together like this. Which, quite frankly, rarely happened. And when the orgasm finally hit, toes curling and walls crashing, it sent him into his own high.

It took you minutes to come back down to earth.

“Damn.” You chuckled, agreeing, and your eyes met when you tilted your head to look up at him. You rested on his chest as it rose in unison with your breathing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You kissed for a while, simply enjoying the intimacy before you pulled away to get up from the bed.

“You want to go back already?”

While you retrieved your clothes from the floor, your boyfriend still laid in bed, naked, propped up on his elbows. “What? You need more aftercare or something?”

“Nah. I thought you might. That was really intense just now.”

You pulled your top over your head, tugging it in your skirt before strutting towards him. With your fists planted on the mattress, you bowed over him, giving him a long, heated kiss. He bit your lip as you drew away, one of his hands coming to your jaw to keep you still.

“I need to pee.”

“Wow,” Jisung replied with a giggle, letting go of your face. “You’re nailing the dirty talk, baby.”

You blew a kiss at him as you walked to the door, leaving the room to find a bathroom.

A long hallway with a handful of doors on each side opened before you. The house was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside, fitting around a dozen people. And that was just the first floor. Any of these doors could lead to a bathroom but this was somewhat urgent. So, you opted for a rushed yet systematic approach.

You chose the door next to the one you had come out of, finding nothing but an empty bedroom. Much like the one your boyfriend was currently dressing in. The door after that was some form of storage unit, the only thing close to a toilet a bucket on the floor. If your search came up empty, you might revisit the idea.

One after another door led to more disappointment. Not until you opened the last door on the left side you found a room that wasn’t an unoccupied bedroom. It still was a bedroom—very much so—but it wasn’t even close to vacant.

The layout came into focus, illuminated by a ring light standing in the corner. As you further roamed the room, you spotted two bodies pressed together in the comfort of one of the two beds. You had no idea how you even got a close enough look to realise you knew one of the two people. It was likely your eyes, meeting for a second. That’s when you recognised his signature freckles, his face dropping as panic overshadowed.

“I’m sorry.” As fast as you had entered the room, you left it, eyes wide in confusion and surprise. It took you less than a few seconds to add two and two together.

Before you could think further about it, you got pulled out of your haze by none other than your boyfriend.

“Found a bathroom, baby?”

“Huh?” He tiptoed towards you and a grin spread on his features as he inspected a stinging hickey on your neck.

“Bathroom?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t find one.” You smiled as he pulled you closer, kissing the dark mark. “I’ll use the one downstairs.”

“Let’s get back then. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun, right?” A wink followed his question which you didn’t have the mind to return properly. You couldn’t quite forget what you had seen, hands entangling with your boyfriend’s as you threw one last look back into the hallway.

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willowthegrey2 · 1 month ago

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First

Larissa Weems x Original Female Character

Note:

So it's been *checks notes* two years and a bit since I last posted a fic. That's about right for me. Anyway, quick disclaimer, Serena Talon is my OC for Larissa fics so far. This story isn't canonically related to Hope in a New World, but Serena looks the same and has pretty much the same personality. I'm just much too lazy to create a new one right now (oops). I was inspired to write a slightly more angsty hurt/comfort fic for Larissa so let's see how good I am at that. Enjoy!

I don't own anything except for the characters.

Chapter 1

She met Morticia when she first moved into her dorm. She had 3 suitcases of just clothing and the rest were boxes of books, study supplies, and magazines. Morticia snorted with amusement as Larissa carefully unpacked her clothes first and everything that followed suit was elegant, beautiful, and ornate, right down to her bedsheets. Morticia introduced herself with a quiet confidence. The type teenagers longed to master without really trying. Despite it all, Larissa stuck to her like glue, signing up for the same classes Morticia would take, sitting at her table in the cafeteria, putting her name on the signup sheet for clubs with her. Morticia was always there when everyone else’s company was fleeting.

Larissa Weems went through so many emotions in her teenage years at Nevermore, especially in regards to Morticia Addams.

She admired her when Morticia seemed to know the answers to every question in class. When she would fence better than those boys who wouldn’t give the girls a second glance in phys-ed. When her assignments were used as examples in class. How she got her eyeliner straight on the first swipe and identical on the other eye. How she always knew what to wear that day and never seemed to run out of clothing or ways to style it.

She hated her when Morticia would say something in passing to her that was supposed to help. ‘Oh Larissa, you know we’re just going to the mall with the girls. You don’t need all that on.’ When Larissa would overthink every single item of clothing on her body in hopes that Morticia would approve of her outfit and still, Morticia would always have something to point out that would make Larissa’s fragile self-esteem deflate further. When she asked Morticia to study with her, Morticia would be able to focus and understand everything while Larissa was fiddling with her pen and re-reading the same paragraph for the third time. It didn’t matter that she got A’s because Morticia got the same grade with her own flair.

She envied her when Morticia effortlessly captured the attention of everyone around her. They would laugh at her jokes, compliment her looks, ask her to hang out. When Morticia didn’t seem to second-guess every sentence out of her own mouth, every expression shown on her face. No overthinking, no anxiety about who she was. Morticia was just… Morticia.

She loved her when Morticia told her that she wanted her as her fencing partner, to be her co-pilot for the Poe cup, to go shopping with her for a Rave’n dress.

She’d shiver with humiliation when she thought of it now but Larissa tried shapeshifting to look more like her when she was younger. The school was massive and nobody seemed to notice whether or not Larissa was there anyway, so she’d become a different person and look just slightly like Morticia to see if anyone treated her like that. Like she was divine.

Black hair. Brown hair. Hair down. Hair straight. Hair curly. Black dress. Shorter height. Longer legs. Longer torso. Larger breasts. Smaller breasts. Long nails. Short nails. More makeup. Less makeup.

Well, it wasn’t Morticia’s looks or clothes or voice that made her the school’s version of God’s gift to earth. She was charismatic. She was confident. She was unique and individual but in just the right way so that most people loved her and those who didn’t were looked down on.

The only ‘benefit’ – if one could call it that – that Larissa got while shapeshifted was hearing what people really thought about her.

‘You know, the tall chick? Always dresses like she’s trying too hard.”

‘That’s half the girls in the school.’

‘Girls hit puberty first, right? Whatever. I mean the girl who’s always with Morticia.’

Oh, the blonde? Yeah. You think that’s her real hair colour?’

‘Who cares? She’s a shapeshifter, every hair colour is natural for her.’

‘True.’

‘But if I told her to shapeshift into like… Marilyn Monroe or something, would she?’

‘Why Marilyn Monroe? Can’t think of a more modern reference?’

‘I could but I don’t think she’d understand it the way she talks about those black and white movies as if they’re not incredibly boring. Plus, Marilyn Monroe is hot. I bet I could even get her to do the voice. At least that way she’d be interesting or something. I can’t believe she thinks anyone cares about fashion or learning about the art history of paintings in the Louvre or whatever. Like, what are we? 70?’

‘She’ll probably have a cat to tell it to in the future.’

‘I give her 25 years.’

‘I give her 10.’

‘The tall chick.’ ‘The blonde.’ ‘The girl who’s always with Morticia.’ ‘The shapeshifter.’

Being principal didn’t really change that. It was the closest she got to someone acknowledging her, but it was within a professional capacity.

What she wouldn’t give for somebody to use her name, just once. To think of her. To see her, to notice her. To call for her. For her to be their first choice.

‘Good morning, Principal Weems.’ ‘Larissa, do you mind looking this over?’ ‘Hey, boss, when’s that report due again?’

They never asked her how she was, if she was all right. They didn’t care about her day or her weekend or even what she liked to drink. Did she radiate some sort of insecurity? Insincerity? Arrogance? Were they just intimidated because she was their boss?

For 25 years she worked at Nevermore. Almost 30 had she lived in its halls. She spent less time in a house of her own than she did at the school. Her social life consisted of her colleagues, people in town she was more or less forced to associate with, and the occasional outing she would get from a moment of weakness on dating apps. They rarely went well. The longest relationship she had lasted three months in university before she swiftly broke it off.

She could count the number of times she had sex on her hands. She didn’t even know what constituted sex anymore. Penetration? Once or twice. Heavy petting? A few times. Having an orgasm with a partner? Never.

It was easier to just not think about such things. She loved her job, as difficult as it was. She almost died and when she woke up in the hospital, the only people there to greet her were nurses, a doctor, and a couple of cops. She’d never felt so alone, so scared at the idea that she would have to heal alone, leave the hospital alone, go home alone. She cried when they left, so much so that she got a headache from the dehydration that felt comparable to a hangover.

In Jericho, barely anything had changed. Normie-outcast relationships continued as normal, strained and shrouded in distrust. Colleagues came and went, students graduated or dropped out. Hardly anyone died anymore though, thank goodness. Wednesday seemed to have calmed her morbid curiosity for the time being.

The librarian has retired. Larissa is hardly surprised, the only person who has been there longer than her is Ms. Bennett. A sonokinetic, rather good at keeping the library quiet. None of the students enter anyway, but the few who do practically have their voice ripped from them. It sounds more violent than it is, but Ms. Bennett always reasoned that until one checked the book out, they had no reason to make noise.

Still, nobody said her name.

Larissa is quick to hire a new librarian. Serena Talon. Pronounced ‘Tay-lon’, so the young woman has informed her. Telekinetic. Good for stocking books back on shelves, she supposes.

Twenty-six years teaching at Nevermore and for the first time, one of her colleagues walks up to her at the end of the first week of school and says; “Good evening, Principal Weems. I was wondering if you would like to get something to eat with me.”

Larissa accepts in the same quiet, polite way she always speaks but her heart does a gymnastics routine in her ribcage. She doesn’t know what this is for. To discuss business? To suck up to her? To ask for a raise? As presumptuous as it may be, it wouldn’t be the first time.

Or maybe, perhaps, possibly, someone perchance wants her company.

----------

Note:

High school is freaking rough, okay? Except for Morticia. She did fine. Wait... she did kill a guy... yeah, never mind. Thanks for reading!😊

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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blueishspace · 3 months ago

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Hero, Villain God 66

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*Grian's pov*

Pearl is frantically pacing in your hospital room, tensions are high.

"I don't know what to say anymore Grian. Mate. Mate. I'm just at a loss for words at this point. What were you thinking?"

Despite being apparently at a loss for words Pearl ended up taking almost an hour to tell you how much of an idiot you had been.

You do not appreciate the hypocrisy that much, she might me the goddess of wisdom but you know she is just as chaotic as you underneath it...

...thinking about it, the whole thing might have been much shorter had you not run away from her last time. She seems to have taken you breaking your deal pretty personally. In your defense, you really didn't want to talk to her back then.

The sky grumbles once she finally leaves, which means that of course Joel was listening in, you don't know what you expected. He's not even making an attempt to pretend that he's not laughing at you.

Well then, if he's going to be laughing at you like this he better prepare for your revenge, really did he not learn *anything* from Quackity? That or he thinks there is nothing you can do about it and, well, that is even more stupid. You are chaos, discord, entropy itse-

You don't get time to continue plotting because soon after Pearl's exit Scar enters the hospital room followed closely behind by a very tired looking Cub.

"Grian!"

"Scar! I was starting to get worried"

"Oh yeah, Cub had a... well, it doesn't matter!"

You and him soon get into your regular banter, it ends up being a bit onesided thought... you are exhausted.

Every once in a while you glance to see what Cub is doing, he seems to be looking over the notes the nurses must have left from their tests you totally did not manipulate with Grumbot's help.

"Grian? Grian? Are you listening?"

"Oh? ... Oh yeah, sorry Scar... just distracted. Were you saying something?"

That's where the universe itself gifts you with a chance to get your revenge.

"So uh ... I'm afraid to ask but... Did you already know about Altostratus' secret identity?... Like, I know you said you already met Altostratus but... you also seemed to recognize Joel? And pretending to be surprised when he revealed it? And when you asked him it looked like you already know the answer"

Yes, that was a mistake you have made, you are a bit surprised he noticed your acting was off.

Still, it has come around to benefit you in the end so it doesn't matter...this is true chaos...and luck, definitely luck too, mostly luck even BUT you are the god of chaos and not luck and you are trying to make a point- You are getting distracted now.

"I... I did yes."

"How? I mean, only if you want to tell me of course...last time you weren't excited."

"I wasn't, I was dreading it you see."

Might have gone a bit too strong on the dramatic there.

"Really?"

"Really... but I have decided that as my fellow hero and as my friend you deserve to know."

"I'm- I'm glad!"

You have an idea, a very bad one, It's going to effect not only Joel but also you... And It's going to be embarassing for both of you. BUT it would be funny.

"I...you see, I lied about how we came to know eachother... I'm sorry"

Wow, you could be an actor...hmmm you wonder if you could use your Ariana Griande identity to go in that direction- wait, that's not a tought for now, you are getting distracted agajn.

Scar shakes his hands to try to dissuade your 'fears'.

"No no It's ok! You were taken by surprise it happens"

"The truth is..."

You make your best impression of an heartbroken man.

"The truth..."

Scar is vibrating in anticipation, Cub is trying his best not to appear curious and the now cloudy sky tells you Joel is worried. He should be.

"Joel is my ex...you can understand the akwardness now".

Scar's mouth widens slightly and Cub subtly goes back to his job like he wasn't just listening in a moment ago... and above your heads the sky thunders. Someone is mad tehehe.

...

Why would you say that? Why did you say that. Ew ew ew.

#trafficblr #traffic smp #hermitblr #hermitcraft #grian #pearlescentmoon #goodtimeswithscar #hero villain god au

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sluttysnowangel666 · 10 months ago

Text

The Song of Blackwoods and Brackens - finale

Thank you so much to those who read and loved this story, I originally intended for it to be much shorter and with a way sadder ending( title was inspired by the song of achilles so i felt a tragic end was fitting) but i got carried away, and i couldn't find the strength to break everyone's hearts. This fanfic is the first time i've gotten back to writing since i was like 12 years old, usually these stories play in my head and i just leave them there but for some reason this one took a life of its own. if people would like to read the alternate ending, let me know and perhaps ill post it. until then, i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. thank you all my delulu bloody ben baddies, i love you more than you know.

masterlist

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

I didn't know how I got there. All I knew was that these moments were about to be my last.

Everything had happened so quickly. The situation spiraled out of control before I even realized it was occurring.

Smoke was everywhere, bodies were everywhere. I couldn't walk without stepping on someone. I knew I was going to die. I could barely walk, could barely see.

I could live with dying. I made my bed, I'm ready to lie in it.

He and I were doomed from the start. I loved him; It ruined my life.

My ears were ringing, my eye was in excruciating pain, as well as my leg.

"Ben." I mumble out, disoriented. "Benny..."

I scan the area. Nothing but bodies. Oh, Gods. What if he was one of them?

There's cries of men in the distance, and the sound of fire crackling the burning mill.

I manage to push myself up, leaning on my sword. I cry out at the pain.

Gods... This was all my fault. I'd destroyed everything I touched. My brother was dead, I couldn't find my lover, I had no idea how long I'd been knocked unconscious.

"Benjicot!" I cried out. "Ben!"

An arrow whips past my head, nailing the wood post behind me. I do a full turn, and see a woman.

She's not much older than me, her hair is long and dark. Alysanne Blackwood.

"Black Aly." I say.

"Who are you?" She asks, an arrow aimed at me.

"I... don't know anymore."

"Judging by your clothes, you're a Bracken. My only concern is... you're a woman. Why is a Bracken woman fighting here instead of cowering in her chambers?"

I don't answer. "I've slain your uncle." She says.

I growl with anger. "You bitch!"

"Too slow." She teases.

I raise my sword, she pulls back on her bow.

"Stop this now!"

I turn, and he's there. Alive. He was greatly wounded, covered in blood as was I, but he was alive.

I can't hold back anymore. Gods, I was so angry with him, but I didn't even care. I limp towards him, bursting into tears the second I fall into his arms.

"Oh, my sweet." He cries, pulling us to the ground. He kisses my bloody head, sobbing into my hair. "We need to get you a maester, now."

I pull away, landing a hard slap across his face. "That's for knocking me unconscious, you craven."

"You left me no choice." He says, hardly phased.

"I know. I'm sorry." I say. He kisses me again.

"Nephew," Alysanne interrupts. "who is this woman dressed as a man?"

"My betrothed." He says.

"This battle... was all because you loved a Bracken?" She asks, incredulous.

"No." I answer. "It was my fault. My family started it... It was because I loved a Blackwood."

"What's the difference?"

"Fuck you, Alysanne."

"Tread lightly, Bracken scum. I'll still fly this arrow through your good eye-"

"Gods sakes, enough! The both of you." Benji demands. "Aly, please, she needs a maester."

Alysanne hesitates, but nods. She turns and runs, happy to be as far from my destructiveness as possible.

Benji helps me begin walking back to Raventree Hall, letting me lean on him for support.

I hear a cough, a familiar, raspy cough. I turn, shocked to see my uncle leaned against a post, an arrow in his left chest plate.

"Uncle." I say.

"You're still alive?" He coughs, blood spewing out of his mouth.

"I am." I say. I push off Benji to stand on my own.

"Get it over with." He sighs.

"Do you have any last words?" I ask.

"You're a disgrace to the Bracken name." He says.

"Well then," I pause. "it's a good thing I'm a Blackwood."

I turn to Benji, whose face reads nothing but pride in me.

"My betrothed," I start.

"Yes, my lady?"

"I believe I know what I want for our wedding."

"Whatever pleases, my lady. Ask and it is done."

I smirk, "I want his head."

One clean swipe was all it took.

Bloody Ben, gets on one knee, and holds up my uncle's head as a gesture of love to our union.

"Put it on a spike. Remind those what happens when you challenge a Blackwood."

———

The maester did what he could to stop the infection, but my right eye could not be saved.

"I look like a monster." I say, trying not to cry.

"The scar will be quite attractive." Ben says. I roll my good eye. "You can cover it, my love, if you so wish. Or perhaps a ruby, or obsidian to take its place."

My leg would fortunately recover. The scar ran from my thigh down to my calf. I have no idea how the maester was able to save it, but he did, and I was forever in his debt.

It would take me years to fully recover, but I had time. We had time.

It took days to clean up the land of bodies. Rain came, cleaning the grass of the blood that stained. After that, it was as if the battle never happened.

Each time I laid my eyes upon Stone Hedge, I sobbed. I would never forgive myself for my brother's death. While time would heal my wounds, they would never heal my grief.

———

Some years later

Benjicot and I married on the 20th day of the 7th moon of 129 AC. The union was approved by the queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and her son Jacaerys had come to celebrate in her name.

I had become Lady Blackwood of Raventree Hall, and I was finally loved. I was loved deeply and greatly by my lord husband, Benjicot.

I had found a family in ones who were once considered my enemies. Alysanne and I set our differences aside and became sisters, Willem Blackwood accepted me as his new daughter.

The war however, was not so kind. It had been called The Dance of Dragons. My husband and I had gone off to fight for our kingdom numerous times, no matter how much he begged for me to stay back.

Nowhere felt more familiar to us than the battlefield. We fought side by side, protecting each other always. We had earned the nickname Bloody Ravens in time.

When the war finally ended, my husband and I returned home for good. Scars covered our bodies and we embraced them. They were reminders of who we were, and what we had endured together. Reminders that no matter what we faced, we would always be there to protect the other.

One day, my husband came to me.

"My little Bracken." He said, kissing my neck and wrapping his arms around me as we stood on the balcony, overlooking the land.

"Lord Husband." I greeted him. He hummed in my neck.

"I believe it's time we produced some heirs for House Blackwood." He says, planting gentle kisses along my neck.

"Is the babe in my belly not enough?" I ask, a playful smirk on my lips. He moves his hand down to my swollen belly, rubbing gentle circles.

"I want these halls running with Blackwood children." He continues to kiss me.

"Oh, my dear husband." I turn and cup his cheeks in my hand. "When I push this babe out within the next few days, you can fill me with another."

He smiles, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. Our daughter was born on the 3rd moon of 132 AC. Her name was Alyssa Blackwood. Benji held true to his word because after that pregnancy, we had 4 more; a boy and girl, the heir to Raventree Hall Aeron and his twin sister Aly Blackwood, another son, Benjamin Blackwood, another daughter, Nyra Blackwood, and another son Willem Blackwood.

"My little ravens." Benjicot called them.

And we lived in domestic bliss. Indeed, we had never felt peace again. But, who does after you have children? Our ravens roamed our halls, spreading chaos as Benjicot and I had when we were younger, but it was all we wanted. One day, my children would know the doomed song of their father and I's love. They would learn the history of our houses, the feud between them, the loss of their uncle. They were Bracken and Blackwood, through and through.

Bloody Ben died, and in his place was Benjicot Blackwood... Until the time always inevitably came where my husband and I went back out to fight. You can take the man out of the war, but you can never take the war out of the man.

Sometimes, we still snuck away at night, going back to that weirwood where it all began. We played, we swam, we fought, we fucked, we loved. It would always be our place, for just us. No matter what happened, no matter where we started, no matter who we were, who we became... we would always return to where we were meant to be.

And in years and years when Benji and I grew old and gray, ready to meet the Gods, we knew we would come back here again.

Together.

Where we began... Where we end.

𐂃 🐦‍⬛

#hotd #hotd season 2 #benji blackwood #benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #house blackwood #bloody ben #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot x reader #team black #aeron bracken #house bracken #kieran burton #ben blackwood #ben blackwood x reader #benjicot smut

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