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oh-katsuki · 4 months

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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops

cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,

wc: 3.1k

nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.

frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.

he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.

you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.

you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.

"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."

"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."

"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."

nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.

"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."

"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.

"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."

"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."

nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.

you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.

you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.

you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.

one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.

"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.

nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.

"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."

"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."

you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"

"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."

nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.

you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.

nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."

"sorry," you say.

"don't be," he responds.

this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.

"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.

"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.

"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."

you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.

you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.

"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.

nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.

you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.

"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."

nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.

"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.

"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.

"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."

you shake your head, "you."

nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.

you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.

something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.

nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.

"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."

nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.

"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.

you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.

you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.

nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.

your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.

for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.

you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.

instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.

you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.

"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.

nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.

nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.

you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.

"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"

you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."

nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.

"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.

something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.

nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.

a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #tw: a/b/o #tw: breeding #tw: dubcon #i can't find my writing tag #also there are prob spelling mistakes in here i apologize #i apologize if this isnt very good

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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months

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same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him.

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone.

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet.

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum.

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?”

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do.

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics.

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice.

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.”

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.”

“But I think I should be right more often than that.”

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.”

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?”

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.”

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while.

“Spence?”

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door.

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.”

“I’m already inside with the door locked.”

“Man, I’m good.”

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already.

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.”

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.”

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice.

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic.

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does.

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster.

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.”

You laugh. “For the whole day?”

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.”

“Okay, rest day all day.”

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.”

“Maybe the floor.”

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?”

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.”

“Say no more.”

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.”

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?”

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.”

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.”

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke.

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.”

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?”

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.”

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.”

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates.

You let out a little gremlin laugh.

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone.

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’.

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs.

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.”

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’”

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.”

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part.

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.”

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.”

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.”

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.”

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird.

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him.

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice.

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh.

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it.

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes.

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.”

“We did.”

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy.

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him.

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters.

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #my fics #your honor im obsessed with him

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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months

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Got My Mind Set On You - Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: I know I said fluff, but somehow I got to spicy stuff instead. Oops.

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

content/warnings: suggested smut.

word count: 1.7k

Jake Seresin leaned casually against the rustic exposed wooden beam of the dimly lit bar, his gaze fixed on you as you shared a moment of laughter with your friends across the room. With the air of someone who knew they were being watched, he flicked another dart effortlessly towards the board, the satisfying thud of it hitting the bullseye punctuating the room. He took a slow sip of his beer, the corner of his lips curling into a self-assured smirk as his friends marveled at his accuracy.

Javy couldn't help but prod at Jake's seemingly supernatural dart-throwing abilities. "How do you do it, man? You never even look at the board."

Jake chuckled, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "Photographic memory, my friend. I've got every angle mapped out up here," he said with a grin, never once breaking his gaze from you.

Bradley, ever the skeptic, scoffed from the sidelines. "Oh, please. Anyone can get lucky tossing darts at a board."

A challenge hung heavy in the air as Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Care to put that theory to the test, Bradshaw?"

Bradley, never one to back down, accepted with a lazy smirk. "Fine. But don't blame me if your girl decides she wants a more skilled pilot."

"Bring it on," Jake replied, his confidence unwavering.

With practiced ease, Bradley sent his first dart flying, hitting the bullseye just as he predicted. Jake's expression remained cool, but there was a flicker of admiration in his eyes as Bradley repeated the feat with his second shot. Bullseye again.

Jake's smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, raising his pint glass towards the dartboard. "You can't do it a third time."

Bradley's competitive spirit flared as he confidently launched his final dart, only to miss the mark by a fraction of an inch. He turned to Jake, a hint of defiance in his eyes as he admitted defeat.

Jake couldn't resist a playful jab. "Not quite perfect, Bradley."

But any teasing was forgotten as you appeared beside him, your touch warm on his shoulder. "Hey there, sugar," Jake greeted you with a smile. "See me get a perfect streak?" Jake purposefully drawled out the word ‘perfect’, resulting in a dramatic eyeroll from Bradley.

Jake's smile softened as he wrapped an arm around you, his gaze never straying far from yours. You grinned as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you spoke. “Sure did, honey. You did great!”, you gushed.

“I am great, darlin’, you know that.”

Bradley groaned and rolled his eyes before downing the rest of his beer. With an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head, holding his empty glass up to you and the others before speaking.

“Anyone down for another round? I’ll buy.”

You chuckled at Bradley's offer, exchanging knowing glances with Jake before nodding in agreement. "I could go for another," you said with a grin, feeling Jake's arm tighten slightly around your waist.

“Sure, thanks man,” Jake started, handing Bradley his empty glass, “After, why don’t we rematch? We can switch to the pool table, if you guys would rather, that way you might actually have a chance at beating me.”

Bradley scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, you’re on.”

Javy, always up for a good time, eagerly agreed. "I'm in. Let's see if lightning strikes twice for old Bradshaw here."

Bradley shot Javy a mock glare before laughing, his competitive streak undeterred. "We'll see about that," he retorted, already heading towards the bar to order everyone’s drinks.

As Bradley disappeared into the crowd, you leaned into Jake's side, relishing in the warmth of his presence. The soft buzz of conversation and clinking glasses enveloped you, creating a comforting backdrop to the evening.

"You know, I think Bradley's just jealous," you whispered teasingly, tilting your head up to meet Jake's gaze.

Jake chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. "Can you blame him?" he replied, his voice low and playful. "After all, he's got to compete with the best."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, swatting his chest playfully. "Smooth talker," you teased, but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Besides all that, I’ve got the best girl, so really, poor Bradley didn’t stand a chance, did he?” Jake whispered as he leaned into your ear, his green eyes fixed on yours as he planted a soft kiss on your lips.

“The best girl, huh?” You mused, raising an eyebrow, “That’s a new one for me.”

“Mhmm,” Jake hummed as he gave you a playful tap on the nose with his index finger. “You better get used to it, honey.”

As you all rounded the pool table, gathering into your teams, Bradley furrowed his brow as he gestured to you and Jake as Jake kept you close to him for his team.

“Oh no you don’t loverboy.” Bradley chided, shaking his head, “She’s on my team. Together you two’ll just end up getting handsy on the pool table and make us all lose our lunch.”

“He’s got a point there, don’t he?” Jake shrugged as he conceded, letting go of his protective, loving grip on your waist.

You watched as Bradley lined up to take his shot. Observing his form carefully, you tried to make mental notes so you could match his game - you weren’t the greatest at pool, Jake usually used teaching you as an excuse to put his hands all over you, not that you complained. It just resulted in some incredibly short lessons in pool, and some playful sessions in the bed of his Ford F-150.

Bradley leaned in close to your ear, whispering softly as he came up with a game strategy. “How well can you accidentally distract Jake?”

“Oh, easy,” you responded with confidence, nodding your head slightly as your gaze fixated on Jake, who was lining his pool cue up for his turn.

“Perfect, do your thing.”

You sipped your cocktail and fiddled with the straw, your lips encircling the tip in a way that you knew Jake would interpret as suggestive. Sure enough, as soon as Jake looked up at you, sea-green eyes locked in a gaze at your mouth as it played with the end of your straw, he missed his shot, causing the cue ball to bounce off the edge of the table, not striking anything in its path. Jake straightened his posture, raising an eyebrow at you as you set your glass down to take your own shot. Bradley smirked from behind his beer bottle, admiring your technique for riling Jake up better than any amount of trash talk ever could.

During Jake’s next turn, you shoved your glass into Bradley’s open hand, before fiddling and unbuttoning the top two buttons of your plaid shirt, exposing just enough cleavage to have Jake’s mind wandering. Once again, as soon as Jake caught a glimpse of you, he missed his shot, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as Javy joked about him being off his game.

“I’m not off my game. Everyone has one off game.”

“Just admit it, Jake, you’re not as good at pool as they are. Bradley’s got you beat.”

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes again, before leaning over to take his next shot, trying to follow up after you sink one of the balls into the pocket, eliciting a high-five and a cheer from Bradley. As the game progressed, Jake caught on to your little game. His cheeks blushed when you whispered what you wanted him to do to you later that evening, he had to clear his throat to cover the involuntary moan that threatened to escape his mouth when your hand caressed his bicep, and he had to position himself carefully behind the pool table while he tried to focus his mind on anything other than the mental image you put in his head when you described what kind of underwear you were wearing under your skirt.

After losing another round, Jake felt a simmering frustration bubbling beneath his skin, an insistent urge gnawing at him with every passing moment. He clenched his jaw, struggling to rein in the primal desires coursing through him. All he could think about was laying you down on the smooth surface of the pool table, indulging in the raw passion that pulsed between you. But he knew he couldn't act on those impulses, not here, not now.

Instead, he tossed the pool cue down with an uncharacteristic huff, the weight of his competitive nature hanging heavy in the air. His typically composed demeanor faltered, a rare glimpse of vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he turned away. You exchanged a knowing glance with Bradley, silently acknowledging the tension that hung between you all, before following Jake's retreating figure outside.

The night air enveloped you like a thick blanket as you stepped out of the dimly lit bar, the humidity clinging to your skin like a second layer. Concern etched across your features, you approached Jake cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

"Jake?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as you closed the distance between you.

"Mhmm?" His response was gruff, his body tense as he leaned against the side of his truck, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Are you alright?" you asked softly, furrowing your brow with worry. "I wasn’t trying to be a dick—Bradley and I just thought it’d be funny if I, you know, distracted you a little."

Jake chuckled, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes as he turned to face you. "I'm not mad."

"You aren’t?" Relief flooded through you, easing the tension in your shoulders.

"Of course not," he reassured you, his gaze softening as he reached out to pull you into his embrace. "I mean, you got me good, I’ll give you that."

"I did?" A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, grateful for his understanding.

"Sure did, Sugar." Jake's smirk was equal parts wicked and enticing, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But now it’s my turn to get you back." His words hung in the air like a promise, igniting a fire in your veins as you met his gaze with a playful challenge of your own.

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glitchfiles · 9 months

Text

heatstroke. [ljn]

pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader

wc. 3.8k+

cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…

an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3

just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.

"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.

you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.

"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.

the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.

his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.

"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.

his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.

you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."

if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.

unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.

he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.

then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.

you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.

"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."

"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.

"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.

"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.

only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.

he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.

you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).

“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.

he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.

for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.

“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”

“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.

he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”

you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.

“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.

he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.

after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.

“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.

you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.

he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.

"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"

"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.

your phone…

sunglasses…

a pack of gum…

lip gloss…

no wallet.

you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.

jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.

while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.

your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.

"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"

"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.

maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.

you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.

sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.

“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.

though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.

he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.

he could bend his rules this once for you.

“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”

without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.

“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.”

he can’t believe you’re doing this.

he can’t believe he’s doing this.

you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.

“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head.

“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.

“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks.

“anything.” you nod.

“then open your fucking mouth, slut.” his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.

“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.

you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.

“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”

you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“

“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.

he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.

jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.

"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already.

after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place.

“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”

the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer.

“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”

“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.

“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.

“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him.

“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it.

he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out.

“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are.

you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there.

“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you.

he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own.

you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress.

a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car.

deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.

“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.”

now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you.

you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat.

he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial.

“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.

“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.

“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.”

you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.

your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you.

“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having.

when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.

“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper.

“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”

your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.

once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak.

he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.

between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him.

you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.

jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty.

“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up.

“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.

“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.”

“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.

“next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.”

★ thank you for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests!

#jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct hard hours #nct smut #📂 ..\ .◜◡◝

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hirukochan · 9 months

Note

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle.

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink.

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour.

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out.

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war.

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready.

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie.

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good.

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend.

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work.

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint.

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you.

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.”

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that.

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean.

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad.

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it.

You have always been Severus’ safespace.

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting.

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod.

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings.

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver.

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely.

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face.

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner...

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips.

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him.

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you.

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile.

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you.

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it.

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans.

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind.

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long.

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure.

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder.

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises.

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow.

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw.

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you.

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

#severus snape #snape fandom #ao3 fanfic #severus snape smut #Severus Snape x reader #snape x reader #snape x you #request #dividers by cafekitsune

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mypoisonedvine · 10 months

Note

now here’s a thought: jonathan crane being seduced by one of his patients

I WAS SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT THIS LIKE A JOKER/HARLEY QUINN MOMENT!! aaaand that's how it turned into basically a whole ass oneshot, oops

hook, line, and sinker - 1.6k words

warnings: manipulation, sexual themes/groping (18+ only please), fluff but with a dark-ish twist

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who understands me," you admitted shyly, biting your lip and looking down at the tile floor beneath you.

He leaned in a little closer, resting his arms on the table between you. "You know," he replied, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it though not quite a whisper yet, "sometimes I feel the same way."

You smiled as you looked up at him again, finding a new brightness in his eyes. "Really?" you beamed.

"Yeah," he agreed, laughing, "I really enjoy our little talks. I mean, sometimes I can't believe I'm getting paid to see you."

Giggling a little, you remembered the first time he let his guard down with you, just a bit; for weeks he'd easily dodged any personal questions, clearly knowing it was a slippery slope to countertransference and an inappropriate relationship. Unfortunately for him and everyone who had insisted that Arkham was the only facility you'd never be able to escape from, you knew from the beginning that you could use him.

You could smell it on him: that deep, overwhelming loneliness. You were far too familiar with it yourself to miss it in someone else. Sure, he kept it hidden under layer after layer of intelligence, professionalism, faked normalcy-- but it was there, and it was calling out for someone else to truly see him. You saw him from the second he walked in that armored door, back when they still kept you in the jacket; now, months later, you'd convinced him you weren't a threat and that he was the one in control of these sessions.

The other facilities, with their inspiration murals and their bean bag chairs, they were a breeze to break out of. You knew that Arkham Supermax was going to be an entirely new challenge, but you'd been preparing since the beginning. Each week with Dr. Crane, you got him to be a little naughtier for you-- first it was as simple as convincing him to let your sessions go long, leaving everyone else waiting as you poured your soul out for an extra half hour. Convincing him that you needed him, that only he could help you. Then it was the praise-- you're changing my life, I've had so many shrinks and you're the first that really listened, you're so incredible-- all that shit he'd probably been craving since his daddy didn't hug him enough or something.

Once you'd given him some compliments, he returned one to you: you made up some sob story about your low self-esteem just to get him to admit that you were attractive, and you took the compliment with a coy little thank you, Dr. Crane... that's high praise coming from you.

Then it was contraband, just little stuff. He snagged you an extra serving of dessert on your birthday; he brought you a copy of your favorite book, as a reward for increasingly good behavior. Sometimes you thought about just asking him straight-up for a metal file or few paperclips, but that would be risky-- you could throw away all your work if you jumped the gun too soon.

Then there was the journal... you knew, no matter how much he swore he wouldn't, that he was going to read that fucking journal. You couldn't be sure if that was always the plan, or if it was just a temptation he would eventually surrender to, but you wrote all these fucked up little fantasies in that journal and imagined how he'd have to loosen his tie when he read them.

Back in January: Dr. Crane keeps asking about my nightmares, I couldn't possibly admit that I've started having sexual dreams about him...

And then there was the entry from March: I didn't mean to upset him yesterday but he snapped at me when I was talking about my anger-- he said I wasn't taking accountability-- and when he got stern with me I felt myself getting wet, is that bad?

And the best one yet, just a few days ago: Dear diary, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone what he told me, so I won't even tell you-- but I'll just say that when Jonathan showed me his mask, I fell totally in love with him. People are always hiding who they really are, but he knows me, and now I know him, too. I know I should feel guilty, but I don't. I know we're meant for each other.

Your heart was racing as you realized it might all pay off tonight. Listening to his rambling rants about fear and society and humanity, journaling about your 'crush' like a schoolgirl, making doe-eyes at him during sessions-- it was all about to happen, you had him in your pocket.

"Sometimes, I..." he began again, looking down at your hands shackled to the table, "I think about seeing you more. When I'm not even here, I mean..."

You pretended to be surprised by that. "Really? I mean... do you think about just talking to me, or...?"

He smiled a little, his face turning a bit pinker. "Do you think about us doing more than just talking?" he turned the question on you instead.

"Doctor, I--"

"Jonathan."

You had to fight off a smirk; you reached forward across the table, jingling the chains that held you down, but they were just long enough to reach to his hands. You gently brushed your fingers over his, hearing him sigh as he opened his hand for you to place your hand in. You ran your middle finger delicately in a line along his palm, and he shuddered a bit. Hook, line, and sinker. "Jonathan," you started again in a low purr, "I think about so much more than talking."

"Do you ever think about... about if we could be together...?" he pressed, closing his grip to hold your hand. After this long of a seduction, you couldn't deny that touching him in such an innocuous way was getting you a little hot. Just because you were manipulating him didn't mean you were completely faking an attraction, he was sexy-- and gullible. You liked that in a man.

Trying to look conflicted, you glanced away. "I try not to imagine that," you explained, "it's... it's not possible, with me in here. I'm fine with this, if this is all I can get-- seeing you three times a week for our sessions, telling you things I never thought I'd tell anyone. I can be okay with that. Just knowing you feel even a fraction of what I do is like-- it's like-- I don't even know how to describe it. It's amazing."

Leaning in even more, he reached up and held your face-- tenderly, reverently-- and you shut your eyes as you leaned into his touch. "I wish I was as unselfish as you," he replied, "but I need more-- I need to really be with you."

You brought your hand up to hold his, jerking the chain a bit. "I need-- I need you, too," you mumbled. "Please, Jonathan," you begged in a whisper as you opened your eyes to meet his wanting gaze, "I wanna be yours."

He sat up and leaned over the table in a split second, kissing you hard; you had to tilt your head back to accommodate the height difference as you were still sitting, and it made it even easier for him to hold your head like they used to in those old Hollywood movies-- the ones they showed here on Thursday nights, but you weren't allowed to go because you 'didn't integrate well with the general population' or whatever.

As he kissed you, hungry but relatively reserved, it was you that took it further: carefully running your tongue over his lips, opening your mouth for him to claim, having to hold back a grin when he moaned softly against you. "Touch me," you begged him in a rare moment of reprieve from the kiss, "please-- I've wanted you to for so long--"

He groaned a little as his hand slid down to your chest, opening one button of your uniform jumpsuit; he kissed your neck as he dipped his hand inside, groping your chest underneath the fabric. Your hips naturally rocked forward in the metal chair, your deprived body desperate to be filled after almost a year of forced celibacy in this prison. "Fuck," he mumbled against your skin, tweaking a nipple between his fingers, "you know we can't-- not here--"

"I know," you purred, only barely able to reach his shoulder with your hands chained-- otherwise you'd be running your fingers through his hair, holding on to his neck, pulling him closer. "But I need you-- I don't think I've ever needed anything this much..."

He shook his head; "Me either," he admitted.

"I need to feel you inside me."

He growled, grip tightening on your breast, and you smiled proudly. "I can't just leave you here," he realized, like it was his idea. "We need to be together-- outside of this place."

"I'll go anywhere with you," you promised him.

Pulling back and looking into your eyes, he brought both his hands to your face, brushing your hair aside quickly. "If I do this for you... you have to promise me. You have to be mine."

"Can you really do that?" you wondered. "Get me out?"

"I'll find a way," he assured, "I'll do anything."

You smiled up at his determined expression, flashing your best big-wet-needy eyes at him. "Jonathan," you cooed, "I'm already yours."

#jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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koolades-world · 8 days

Note

Can you please do headcanons on an MC who always find themselves in the craziest hiding spots

Some examples are somehow they can find themselves on a roof of a building when there’s literally no way to get up there or they somehow get on a chandelier that’s in the middle of the ceiling and also impossible to get to

You just find them somehow on a window edge that’s literally way up high on the wall and there’s no ladder, no magic that can be detected, and literally no one should have been able to help you get up there either

It’s literally impossible to get up there

But MC, in their (stupid) brilliance, found a way

MC doesn’t know how to get down though so their only solution is “jump and hope someone catches me”

MC never shares how they get to those impossible places and no one ever catches them getting to the spot no matter how hard they try

haha hi! yes of course :)

i think i did something kinda like this? honestly i'm not sure so if i did, we have two now!! i think what i did was just mc who likes hide and seek

edit: i literally did this before haha. tumblr has been doing this thing where it will duplicate an ask i already did and i've caught it a few times, but not today so oops! haha

enjoy <3

Mc who hides in crazy hide and seek spots

Lucifer

he's very concerned for your wellbeing

less worried about how you got there and more worried about how you plan to get down

after hearing that you don't really know how and are just hoping for the best he freaks out

he knows one of his brothers will always be around to catch you if you fall but that doesn't stop him from worrying

Mammon

equally as worried as lucifer, if not more

hide and seek kind of stresses him out a little because he knows he'll have to find and catch you

he always does and will but it's just the act that worries him

he even has a pillow he carries around with him if he needs to place it under you to soften your fall, but he's never needed it

Levi

he always wonders how you get up there

do you teleport or something??

he tries to catch you off guard to see if he can see you headed up but never can

he won't question you but that doesn't stop him from thinking of all the ways you might be able to get up there

Satan

he's very curious on how you get up there

to the point where he sets up secret cameras pointed at the places he knows you've been in before

mysterious though, something always goes wrong with them and he only ever see you on the ground, then in the spot, no inbetween

but, these cameras do let him get some great blackmail for his brothers haha

Asmo

he thinks when you hide up high, you could get some super cute pictures of him

y'know like a perspective thing. must be on .5 haha

he also takes pictures of you to match for his devilgram

he keeps every picture of you because you look cute in every single one of then!

Beel

by far the most chill about it

he's a little worried but he knows you're having fun

he doesn't want to stop you from enjoying yourself

but he does make you promise to never get yourself into a situation you could get hurt in, and hopes you're true to your word

Belphie

he's the insane one who hides with you

or, well, tries is the key word

it's become a friendly competition to see who can hide in a crazier spot

spoiler alert: he hasn't managed to beat you yet haha

#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me #obey me!#obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

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anundyingfidelity · 2 months

Text

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean x reader x sam #sam wesson #dean smith #supernatural fanfiction

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grogusmum · 3 months

Text

Please Mister Please

JOEL MILLER X F!READER (nicknamed)

SUMMARY: You can't seem to escape that one song even after the apocalypse. Joel and Ellies friendship brings you some comfort, and maybe Joel is interested in more.

WORD COUNT: 1700ish

WARNINGS: None to speak of. Unless you need one for soft Joel. As always, if you see something I've missed, let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Just a little something inspired by the Olivia Newton-John's song of the same name. (She was in her country music era) It's hardly edited, written on my phone, and Imma just yeetin' it out there. Oops. It's just the usual fluffy hurt comfort. But it IS my first go round with Joel. I hope you enjoy it! 💚

The jukebox was found on a supply run at some honky tonk out Fort Collins way called Sundance something or other. You laughed at your first thought, which was it's wasn't one of those new ones with CDs, realizing "those new ones" were now 40 years old... but this one was truly an antique, with vinyl in it and everything.

A Wurlitzer in all its chrome, brightly colored bakelite, and satisfying push button glory.

You shake your head now, thinking you should have known the moment you heard. Everyone was so excited. Because, of course, they were! How fun is an old timey jukebox full of country-western ballads, anthems, and line dance classics?

It brought an energy into Jackson, the likes you hadn't seen before it. You'd gotten in early on, and watched its evolution from place where people were merely surviving to an industrious hive of busy bees, creating abundance but there wasn't much room for joy and then out of the clear blue sky - line dancing. At first they couldnt keep it plugged in all the time, it was turned on for a half an hour at the end of the day, until they had a good handle on the dam and the power plant was working consistently. You're sure it was the inspiration for Maria's attention to holidays and socials after seeing the excitement and morale lift from it. Suddenly, y'all were living, not just staying alive. So it seems silly, with so much real life and death shit to deal with, to get so hung up on one song, but it carried so much weight for you, you just couldn't shake it. If only it wasn't so sweet, if only it wasn't so catchy… Maybe people wouldn't have noticed it among all the other tracks. But it was sweet and it was catchy, and about making it after all the shit they'd been through...

So naturally, at five songs for a quarter, it ends up in the mix at some point. (It's the only reason the town has any coins. Paying it could have been bypassed, but dropping the 25¢ seemed to be part of the fun.) So when you least expected it, it would start to play, and so far, it continued to flip your stomach and make your eyes glass. And think about how he and you didn't actually make it.

Joel and Ellie have been in Jackson several months now. Ellie dove right in, school, taking care of the horses afterward, trying to socialize. She's a little guarded sure but mostly funny and eager. Joel started helping Tommy right away, but it seemed to you more to keep busy than to join the community. He's wary and taciturn. When they weren't in those organized work times, they stuck close. When Ellie ventured into social activities, Joel let her go, but he was ever watchful, with Ellie checking in often even just a look over her shoulder, just to see if he was still there. He always was. They reminded you of a bonded pair of strays.

You liked your place, Catnip's Apothecary. They'd come in twice so far, once when Joel brought Ellie in for a poison ivy rash and once when Ellie brought a very grumpy Joel for inflammation in his knees Ellie found all your jars of tinctures, teas, herbs, and powders fascinating. Asking what everything did, looking at drying plants hanging from rafters in wonder, pspspsing the cats.

“Are you a witch?”

“Ellie!” Joel admonished, but looking at you for a tell. Were you? You could see him wondering.

Tonight, Ellie is at the rec center, a movie theater for the evening, awaiting the start of none other than Star Wars.

You only laughed. Sure you were, but what they were seeing here was hardly witchcraft, just herbalism, mostly. Joel and Ellie are both bright and observant - you're pretty sure they both noticed you didn't answer.

Where did they find all these 70s flicks? Nevertheless, A New Hope's a great find. You can't resist going, even though you know it by heart, and you'll have to force yourself not to recite all the dialogue. Sitting smack dab in the middle, surrounded by all these kids and young adults, seeing it for the first time, you munch your popcorn and smile.

You don't see Joel, but it's not like you are actively looking for him… just curious, given their perhant to stay together and you figured he will know the movie too, maybe he's more of a Trekie. When you catch Ellie's eye, she waves animatedly and moves to sit beside you.

“Sssoooo, you're like one of the only grown ups here.” there is a gremlin glint in Ellie’s eye.

“Yeah, I thought there'd be more nostalgia watchers-” you say a little sheepishly. “ But it's okay, I'll see it with a soon-to-be New Generation of Star Wars Fans. Bear Witness!”

“And what if it sucks?”

The noise you make is somewhere between an indignant scoff and a gasp of purest offense. But you rally.

“Oh just you wait padawan-”

"What's a pada-"

As quickly as the lights go down the attention commanding drums of the 20th Century Fox fanfare begin.

“Oop here we go! Buckle up, buttercup!!”

You live vicariously through the new audience for the next two hours, and it is a pure joy.

The young people of Jackson laugh at the Laurel and Hardy comedy stylings of Threepio and Artoo, they eat up the “though she be little she is fierce” snarky spirit of Princess Leia, gasp at Alderaan's fate and Obi Wan's sacrifice, cheer at Hans return, hold their collective breath when Luke turns off his targeting device to use the force, and burst into applause when he makes the one in a million shot, womp rats in Beggars Canyon take heed.

“Aw man I really hope we can see Empire some day,” you say as the credits roll.

Ellie is elated, peppering you with questions about the sequel and then Return of the Jedi and you do you best, not wanting to spoil too much if she actually gets to watch it.

“I'm this way,” she says suddenly, as she peels off from the town center, “see ya!”

You head toward the Tipsy Bison, to join the adults, most of which took advantage of the kids being off at the movie to do a little drinking and dancing.

The spring has brought high spirits, and with it bright chatter and the stomp of line dancing in progress. Grabbing a spot to watch, you order yourself a drink. When the song ends, there's hoots and applause, and the next one is slow and sweet, and it only takes the first note for you to feel the drop in your belly.

Joel saw you come in, he had seen you from the street actually, when the community center emptied after the film, he had his eye out for Ellie and saw her come out with you, talking animatedly and laughing. He smiled. You were his age, or close enough he guesses, not only from both the smile and worry lines but your points of reference when talking, only missing references that are local to growing up in Texas. It's comforting, you remember Before. You also have a light he can't get enough of, you didn't confirm nor deny it but he is sure you've enchanted him witch or not. He's just been to, 'shy' isn't the right word... he just hasn't been able to make any sort of move.

Now you sit alone, a moment ago smiling, tapping to the music. He had been taking in some liquid courage, in the form of whiskey, to ask you to dance. But the light in your eyes is replaced with a shine, not in the way he loves. He's seen this a couple times, he realizes. Times when your eyes go far away and a sadness descends on you.

He gets up and checks the jukebox, taking note of the song. He's pretty sure he's right. He can't bypass a song on a jukebox, nor can he tell a DJ to change it. But he's gonna talk to Walt the barkeeper, first chance he gets.

Then he does his best to saunter over to your little table, drink in hand. He's pretty sure his sauntering days are over.

“Hey Catnip, can I sit?”

You look up wiping your wide eyes.

“Oh, sure, Joel, please,” your smile tries to reach your eyes, but it flickers and can't stay.

“So," joel starts, he's not good at this. He's gotten better but, “You're Still the One, huh? For me it's Vince Gill- When I Call Your Name ”

You just look at him, and he starts to think maybe he hasn't improved at all.

“I don't know that one, it was kind of a fluke that our song, his song was a country song. It's not my usual genre.”

“Well it wasn't my lady and my song, it was the song that I listened to after she left. Sarah was so little. I felt so lost in those early days. Now I can't even hear the open-”

“Opening chords,” you finish with a chuckle, “yeah, I can't- and now of course it all wrapped up in the Before Times, too. But here it is, in a jukebox of less than 200 songs, the one song that represents my husband walking out on me before the shit hit the fan.”

“I can't even picture anyone leaving you with nothing but a song.”

“Yeah, well, I can picture it quite clearly. I can't imagine someone leaving you with a little baby girl to raise.”

“We are in the same boat, darlin’ until it happened I would have been with you on that. We were very young, 22, she panicked.”

“Aren't we a pair?”

“Why don't this pair go for a walk then?”

Joel holds his breath, looking into your lovely face.

“I'd like that.”

Standing, Joel holds out a hand to guide you up and out of the bar, it settles comfortably on your lower back, the song long over. His hand tingles and theres a flutter in his chest at being allowed to touch you this way.

It smells like petrichor, though the skies are clear. Joel's hand leaves your back to your chagrin, but he gently holds out his elbow, and with a crooked smile you slip your hand in the crux of it.

“Such a gentleman.”

He smiles and brings you to the newly constructed, yet to be painted, gazebo.

You climb the handful of steps and look at the town from this new vantage point.

Behind you, Joel comes close, his hand casually on your hip, like you did this everyday. His mouth close to the shell of your ear and a quiet hum floats in, the controlled breath tickling, you smile knowing the very apt song choice,

“Are you making fun of me Joel Miller?”

He chuckles, then the words over take the hum -

“Please mister, please, don't play B-17

It was our song, it was his song but it's over

Please Mr. please, if you know what I mean

I don't ever wanna hear that song again…”

Joel turns you, arm around your waist, his other hand sliding into yours -

" I'd sound a bit better with my guitar, but when we couldnt dance, so-"

He starts a simple box step, as he sings quiet and low, just for you, while turning you around the gazebo.

You join in singing whispering in his ear the chorus when it comes again. It feels cathartic. Then you step back - who is this man? Not the guy who came in with a little girl, a gut wound that should have killed him, poorly healed knuckles, and the weary eye of someone who is always waiting for the other shoe to come down on him like it's made of lead. But looking at him now, those brown eyes wide but the little crease between his eyes holding his concern. His jaw soft, making you take more note of his natural pout and the salt and pepper scruff, the little spot that just won't fill in, it looks like a heart… you wonder if it's as soft and smooth as it looks and if he'd let you touch it to find out.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING 💚

Please consider commenting and reblogging. If you are interested in reading more of my writing, you can find my masterlist here. If you would like to be notified when i post more work, you can find my taglist form here.

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal character fics #pedro pascal characters

167 notes · View notes

alwaysonthemend · 7 months

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Author's Note: Hello my loves! This is my most favorite thing that I've ever written so I really hope you all enjoy. Please ignore any typos lol 💞

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, cussing, arguing, mentions of unrequited love, heartbreak, mentions of drinking, frat parties, angry sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, praise kink, squirting, oral (m and f receiving) bruises from sex. I think that's all but please let me know if I missed anything! 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 7946 (oops)

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Frat parties can be hit or miss you’ve come to discover. The music tends to be just okay (though they often play the better music towards the end) and they’re always hot and cramped and leave you feeling completely wiped out and gross by the end. For a long time, you avoided them all together – choosing instead to spend your Friday nights indoors reading or listening to music. But then you’d met Josh (and by extension the rest of the Kiszka-Wagner friend group) and they’d shown you that with the right people, parties could be a hell of a good time. Having a group to go with – ones who’ll dance with you and laugh and have fun with you, makes parties a nice break to the monotony every now and again.

This one will no doubt be like all the others – packed and hot and the music blaring so loudly that you can feel it reverberate through your chest. The lights will be flashing between blues, greens, and reds and the room will smell strongly of alcohol. But you'll be surrounded by your little group of friends who will be laughing and dancing with you, distracting you from anything other than having fun.

You’d met Josh during your first semester at University of Michigan and the two of you had quickly become good friends. You’d been partnered up in your film class and the rest, as they say, was history. He’d been the one to drag you out tonight – despite your protests of being tired.

“Please?” He’d asked, giving you his very best puppy dog eyes. “It’s not fun if I have to go by myself.”

“Josh,” You’d sighed, tucking your book into your backpack as you spoke, “I’m tired. Get Jake to go with you or something.”

“He is going with me! But he hates frats and all he does is stand there and sulk the whole time.”

You’d halted for a brief moment, your brain conjuring up images of Jake at a frat party that had butterflies erupting in your tummy before you’d quickly shaken your head, but Josh had caught you anyway.

A smug smile had spread across his face, making him look like the damn Cheshire Cat.

“Is seeing Jake not reason enough to show up? You know you wanna see him…”

You rolled your eyes, huffing a breath and trying to ignore the heat spreading across your cheeks. Evidently, he’d yet to catch on to the tension that had taken up residence between you and his twin in the last few months – a far cry from what you two used to be.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joshua Michael. No idea at all.”

“Sure you don’t, babe.” He’d said with a grin, knowing that he’d successfully convinced you.

Your relationship with Jake is odd to say the least. You’d met him pretty quickly after meeting Josh – given the fact that they’re practically attached at the hip, and you’d hit it off with him just as you had with his twin. In fact, there was a time when you’d thought that maybe there was something more there with him… subtle glances and private smiles that took place between the two of you had sure made you think so.

Though you and Jake had never hung out one on one (Josh was always there with you), the two of you would usually manage to find an excuse to sneak off together and you’d quickly found that the two of you have a lot in common – a love for music and Tolkein most notably. You and him could spend hours talking about the nuances of the Silmarillion and about whether or not Hozier should be considered a pop artist.

Your favorite times though were when you all would be hanging out at Josh’s house for movie nights – you, Jake, Sam, Danny, and Josh, and you and Jake would sneak off alone to do whatever you pleased. Most of the time, you and him would end up on the roof to stargaze. Sometimes you talked – you’d talk for so long that both of your voices would grow hoarse from use. Other times, the two of you would just sit in silence, enjoying the other’s company. In those moments, it was like you and Jake were the only two people in the universe, completely content to let everything and everyone else melt away.

Your friendship with Josh had been easy but the one you had with Jake had been effortless. Jake made you feel seen – like you could truly be yourself without him judging you for it. Though he could come across as broody and sullen at times, there’s a light inside Jake that only few people are lucky enough to see… and he had trusted you enough to be one of those people. At least, until about four weeks ago when suddenly it seemed like he didn’t want to even be near you anymore.

Where used to the two of you would hang off to the sides at parties and gatherings (often standing a lot closer than you needed to be), now it was like he made sure to be wherever you weren’t. And God, did it hurt your feelings. You’d allowed yourself to become vulnerable with him – let him see parts of yourself that you’d hardly shared with anyone, not even Josh. And he’d tossed you to the side seemingly overnight… like all those deep conversations you’d had with him meant nothing at all. You desperately wanted to understand what had changed but refused to be the person to reach out. He was the one that stopped texting back. He was the one that started acting like you were merely acquaintances. He was the one who made you think that you were both in love one minute only to completely ignore you the next. He owed it to you to be the one to talk first.

So silence had fallen completely between the two of you and evidently, Josh wasn’t aware of it yet. But still, you were determined to not let Jake ruin a good time for you. You hadn’t been out with Josh in ages and you were confident that it would be easy enough to ignore Jake’s existence, especially given that he seemed intent to ignore yours too.

–

As expected, you're immediately assaulted with humidity and the smell of alcohol as you step through the doors. Josh stands at your side as you both scan the crowd for familiar faces. Sure enough, tucked into a far corner is Sam and Danny – both of them already seeming to be a little tipsy. Josh grips your hand and the two of you wade through the sea of bodies, doing your best to avoid stray elbows and drunken party-goers.

“You actually came!” Danny shouts at you over the din, a rosy hue on his cheeks from the alcohol he’s no doubt already indulged in. He and Sam called it “pre-gaming.”

“Josh convinced me!” You shout back, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“It’s my irresistible charm!” Josh answers, grabbing your hands in his and playfully beginning to sway you both back and forth.

“Charm my ass.” Sam mutters, just barely audible over the music. Josh just shoots him a glare before returning his attention back to you.

“Where’s Jake?” You ask, allowing Josh to lead you both a little bit more towards the center of the packed room. It's slow going – everyone else is hardly paying attention to anyone trying to get through, but you manage to get halfway there before you both become trapped from moving any further.

“Sulking over there. Just like I said he would be.” Josh jerka his head in the direction to his left and you follow the movement, finding Jake leaning up against a wall with a red solo cup in his hand.

Your eyes meet his and he immediately drops your gaze, the corners of his mouth dropping into a frown. You want desperately to march over there and demand he tell you what had changed but you refuse to back down first. This wasn’t the place for that anyway.

“Aren’t you gonna go sulk with him?” Josh asks, smiling down at you. The blue strobe lights make his teeth almost glow and it reflects off his sharp cheekbones.

You shake your head.

“I feel like dancing tonight.”

He only grins before pulling you in closer to him, letting go of your hands to place his palms on your hips. You bring your own hands up and lace your fingers together behind his neck and allow him to guide your hips to the beat of the music. You close your eyes and lean into him, allowing the music to drown out everything else. If you keep your eyes closed, you can almost imagine that it's his twin out here dancing with you instead.

Josh is attractive – that had been obvious from the moment that you first saw him. And maybe in another lifetime you and him might have been more than friends. But you and Josh both knew that in this one, best friends were all you would ever be. You’d kissed once at a party… You’d both been drunk and high off your asses and afterwards you had both agreed that there wasn’t anything there. But in this moment, you almost wish that you’d fallen for him instead of Jake. Falling for Jake had clearly been foolish given how he dropped you so quickly. Making you feel like he wanted you one moment only to then act like he hated you the next. You know Jake was angry though – especially if the glare that he's giving you and Josh from his place against the wall is anything to go by.

As you and Josh sway and rock to the pounding music, Jake’s dark gaze stays locked on yours. There's anger in his eyes that makes you want to pull away from Josh but you refuse. Instead, you only pin him with one challenging glare of your own before turning your attention back to Josh.

“What’s got him so pissy?” Josh asks you, leaning his head down to press his lips against your ear so that you can actually hear him.

“Hell if I know.��

Josh hums and you can feel the sound reverberate through his chest thanks to the close proximity.

“If I didn’t know any better…” he starts with a sly look on his face, “I’d say he looked jealous.”

“He’s just a dick.” You say, venom lacing your words – the hurt that you’d been keeping to yourself these past few weeks finally beginning to spill over. Josh looks taken aback for a moment before smoothing over his expression.

“Sorry.” he says, though you can tell that he doesn't really know what he was saying sorry for. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He knows that your relationship with Jake is… different. And it pains him to see you both angry at each other but he has no idea how to fix it. Instead, he seems intent on making it worse.

“Wanna give him a show then? Show him what he could have had?” Josh whispers, a wicked smile on his face.

You smile back at him and nod. He uses his grip on your waist to pull you into him even more so that your hips are flush against each other. The lights have morphed from greens and blues to a deep red and the base is pounding in your chest. You move your hips from side to side, pressing your face into Josh’s neck as he moves with you to the beat. It isn't even dancing anymore – just mindless grinding against each other. You deliberately keep your gaze pointed away from Jake but you know he's still watching. You can feel his piercing gaze even from across the room.

Just as you begin to lose yourself fully to the moment, a strong hand wraps around your bicep and yanks you harshly from Josh’s grip.

“The fuck?” You spit, spinning around to be met with none other than Jake, his chest heaving and his brows pinched together in anger.

“Jake, what the fuck is your problem?” Josh yells, regarding his twin with a frown.

The two seemed to be sizing each other up, though you knew that Josh is just enjoying getting a rise out of his brother and feeling protective over you. But Jake… you can practically see the rage oozing from him. The red lighting makes his smooth skin almost glow and his dark hair falls on either side of his face, framing his sharp features. If you weren’t so pissed at him you might be tempted to kiss him.

“This doesn’t involve you.” Jake finally says, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“The hell it doesn’t!” Josh snaps back, eyes blazing in defiance.

“Josh…” you hedge, placing a calming hand on his forearm. His eyes sweep to yours, immediately softening. “I’ve got it. Thank you.”

Josh stares at you for a moment, debating whether to step away or not. You hold his gaze, silently trying to let him know that you could handle this on your own. Finally, he dips his head and steps back.

“I’ll be with Sam and Danny if you need me.” He tells you, before retreating back to the corner.

You watch him go before spinning on your heel to glare back at Jake.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You rip your arm from Jake’s grip as you speak.

“What’s wrong with you?” He shouts back angrily. “Grinding on my twin brother like that!”

This time, you're the one to reach out and harshly grip his arm. You tug him backwards, leading him towards a side door that you know leads to a bathroom downstairs. You don’t turn back to look at him as you lead the two of you down, instead focusing on trying to steady your breathing and bring down your blood pressure. You're so angry you could scream.

As soon as the bathroom door is shut and locked behind the two of you, Jake has you pressed back against the wall, nostrils flared and eyes blown wide as he regards you.

“What in the world is wrong with you, Jake? You’re acting like an asshole.” You seeth, hating the tremble in your voice. Despite your anger, his closeness is still affecting you.

Jake doesn’t answer. He just stares down at you, chewing on his plump bottom lip.

“No. I’m not doing this with you.” You shove him away from you, the sudden movement causing him to stumble back slightly. “You don’t get to ignore my existence and then get pissed just because I danced with Josh.”

“If you wanted to fuck him so badly you could at least have the decency to do it in private. Instead of throwing yourself at him like a whore in the middle of a dance floor.”

You balk, taken aback by his harshness. Never in all the time you’d known him has he ever spoken to you like that – to anyone for that matter.

“Fuck you.” You spit, clenching your fists at your sides to stop yourself from punching his stupid, perfect face. “You have no fucking right to be pissed at me, dickhead. I’m the one who should be pissed at you!”

“The fuck did I do?”

You roll your eyes.

“If you don’t know what you did then I’m not going to tell you.” You turn your back to him, intent on going back upstairs. “Figure it out yourself.”

“Go right ahead, then. Go fuck my twin like I know you want to!” He snaps and the sheer aggression in his tone makes your whole body freeze. Icy hot anger washes over you and you feel like you could explode from anger.

“What” You seeth, turning back around to face him, “did you just say to me?”

He meets your gaze, defiance coating his expression.

“You heard me.”

“Is that what you want me to do? You want me to fuck Josh?”

“I don’t care what you do. Just don’t do it where I have to fucking watch.”

His eye twitches, betraying him. You take a step closer and he steps back away from you, caging himself in against the wall. Acting on sheer impulse, you press in close to him – so close that your lips are almost touching. His chest heaves with each breath he takes and a sheen of sweat makes his skin glisten in the low light of the bathroom.

“I think you care.” You say, voice so low it's almost a whisper.

“I don’t.” He growls, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I call bullshit.” This time, you let your lips just barely ghost over his as you speak. “You’re just pissed that he’s not too much of a pussy to make a move like you are.”

In a flash your back is slammed against the bathroom wall, knocking the air from your lungs. You gasp but the sound is swallowed by Jake crashing his lips into yours. You can’t help but to kiss back and he groans into your mouth. You hook your fingers into the belt loops of his black jeans, pulling him in closer to you. The kiss is rough – teeth clacking together as you practically devour each other.

Your chest begins to burn and finally you pull back for air. Jake looks completely ravished, cheeks flushed and lips slick with spit.

“Fuck me.” You demand into the silence, your voice coming out embarrassingly high pitched.

“Sure you don’t want Josh to do it instead?” His voice cracks on the last word, ruining his facade but you aren’t ready to give up the fight yet.

“Okay.” You tell him, shrugging your shoulders as you make to step away from him.

Before you can even begin to detangle yourself from him, he’s spun you around and slammed your face into the cold tile wall.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He mutters, smothering your body with his own. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your ass and you can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips. “Tell me to stop and I will.” He whispers, a tad softer than before.

You open your mouth to snark back, to tell him that he’s an asshole or a dick or something, but all that comes out is a breathless, needy moan.

“Words, Y/n.” He insists, digging his fingers into the meat of your hips.

“Do it, Jake. Fuck me.” You demand, pressing your ass back into his hard length and drawing a breathy little groan from him. “Please.”

The “please” is all it takes. Jake hooks his fingers into your waistband and roughly yanks your jeans and panties down. You hear him unzip his pants and the clink of his belt buckle as he pulls his own jeans down just enough for his length to spring free. He swipes a calloused fingertip through your folds, brushing against your swollen clit and causing you to gasp.

“Fuck.” The word falls from your lips like a prayer, though to whom you have no idea. God surely wants no part in what Jake is about to do to you.

“You’re dripping, angel.” Jake murmurs, swiping through your pussy lips again to gather as much of your wetness as he can. You can’t see him but you can hear the wet sounds of his hand pumping his cock, your slick making it easy. “Fuck, you look incredible like this.”

You whine, shoving your hips backward to let him know that you’re more than ready for him. Jake takes the hint, spearing you with his cock and burying himself inside you all the way to the hilt. The stretch is painful and wonderful all at the same time and you both cry out at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. You want desperately to hear that noise from him again so you bear down on him as much as you can, contracting your muscles to squeeze him.

“Shit.” He grits out through clenched teeth, wrapping one arm around your lower belly to keep you in place. “You keep doing that and this isn’t gonna last very long.”

“Move, Jakey.” The nickname escapes you unbidden but he doesn’t seem to mind, instead finally starting to rut his hips against you, his cock dragging along your walls deliciously.

You bring both hands up to brace your palms against the wall and let your head fall back onto Jake’s shoulder. Immediately, his lips attach to the sensitive skin as his thrusts pick up in speed. It’s brutal – no finesse as he pounds into you so hard that you see stars. You know that you’re being too loud but you can’t seem to stop yourself. Curses and please and his name spew from your lips with reckless abandon but he’s too far gone himself to silence you. He detaches his lips from your throat and tosses his own head back, little grunts and moans escaping him with each thrust of his hips into yours. He draws you in closer to him with his forearm and his free hand reaches up to wrap around your throat. He squeezes just enough to restrict a little bit of the blood flow, causing your head to swim with pleasure.

“Who gets to see you like this?” He demands as he drops his forehead to rest against your shoulder, his thrusts somehow picking up even more speed. Your knees slam into the wall each time he pistons in and out of you and you know that you’ll have bruises there tomorrow – battle scars to remind you of this glorious moment.

“You, Jake. Only you.” You manage to say through a wheeze, his fingers still wrapped around your throat.

“That’s fucking right.” He confirms, pace beginning to falter. “Touch your clit, angel. Touch her for me.”

You comply, sliding one hand down to circle feverishly against your swollen bundle of nerves. Your body is trembling, Jake’s grip on you the only reason that you’re still upright. The coil in your belly tightens dangerously, a feeling like none other beginning to claw its way up your body – completely engulfing you in the feeling of Jake, Jake, Jake.

“M’ gonna cum.” You warn him, speech coming out slurred and barely comprehensible.

“Fuck, me too. Give it to me. Now!” He demands and the band inside you snaps.

You cry out loudly, your whole body trembling as the pleasure inside you hits its peak. Jake lets go of your throat and the rush of blood to your head coupled with the way he keeps pounding into you sends you tailspinning into another orgasm. Your pussy feels like it's on fire – the pleasure and overstimulation of two orgasms so close together sending you into a state of fucked out bliss. It seems to go on forever, your whole body going slack against him.

Finally, Jake pulls from you and immediately ropes of his own release paint your ass and lower back. The moan that escapes him sounds angelic and you wish that you could have recorded it somehow.

You both just stand there for a long moment, the silence only broken by yours and his panting as you both recover from the mind-blowing orgasms that you just experienced.

“Y/n.” His voice cuts through to you, sounding breathy and tired but so much softer than it had before.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, a frenzied rattle of the door handle causes you both to jump.

“Open the fucking door!” A drunken voice that you don’t recognize calls out. “I’ve gotta take a piss!”

Jake lets go of you and you both quickly yank your jeans back up, doing your best to straighten your clothes and hair. Without saying a word, Jake strides over to the door and unlocks it, pushing a frazzled and drunk looking young guy out of the way and exiting the bathroom.

“Watch it, buddy.” The guy pouts, rubbing his shoulder where Jake had run into him.

“Move.” You demand, pushing him out of the way again to catch up to Jake as he angrily stomps up the stairs. “Jake!” You call, leaving the poor guy to stare after the two of you confusedly.

“Jake, wait!’ You yell, ascending the stairs and stepping back out into the cramped dance floor. You’re disoriented, the loud music and flashing lights suddenly causing you to feel dizzy. You just barely see Jake disappear out the front door before you push and shove your way through the throng of people to follow him.

Stepping out into the cool night air, you see Jake fumbling in his pocket for his car keys.

“You can’t just leave, Jake!” You call, tears beginning to brim in your eyes.

He must hear the tremble in your voice because he finally stops, turning back to look at you. He looks distraught.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” He tells you, eyes dropping to stare at your shoes. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”

“W-what?” It feels like you’re spinning – like someone put your brain in the dryer. You can feel the blood drain from your face. “Why would you-” You stop yourself, unsure of how to even continue.

“I’m sorry.” He says again, before rounding the corner out of sight, leaving you to stand there alone on the sidewalk.

–

Two weeks pass. You and him don’t speak. Hell, you barely even speak to Josh – his presence serving as too much of a reminder of what had happened. It felt like a fever dream… almost like it wasn’t even real. It’s like your own worst nightmare has come true. And not only that, you’re being forced to deal with it completely alone.

You’d let passion and desperation dictate you towards the decisions that you’d made that night. Had you wanted it in the moment? Yes, you had. But now that it was all over and Jake clearly regretted it, you’re sure that the friendship you’d had with him is shattered beyond repair. Before, there’d been hope of fixing things – of talking things out and going back to how you once were. But now… There’s no reason to hope. You fucked the guy who used to be your closest friend in a frat house bathroom and there’s just no going back from that.

Josh has been calling and texting you incessantly, begging you to tell him what happened that night. But you refuse. And after he wouldn’t give up asking after the second day, you’d resorted to just ignoring him completely. The fact that Jake hadn’t told him anything – despite having always told him everything, speaks a thousand words about how Jake feels about it.

–

A knock echoes through your apartment, just barely audible over the Hozier album you have playing in the background. Thunder rumbles softly in the distance and sheets of rain pelt your windows. It’s a perfect night for a book and some wine – a way to detach yourself from the drama of the past few weeks.

You sigh audibly, closing your book and placing it on the coffee table next to your wine glass. You figured it wouldn’t take long of ignoring Josh’s messages for him to come and find you. You rise from your seat and make your way to the front door, shoulders taut with the anxiety of having to tell Josh what happened. There’s no way he’s leaving you alone without the full story.

You open the door, expecting to see a mop of curly hair waiting for you but instead you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of his twin.

“Jake?” You ask incredulously, instinctively taking a step back from him. “You look…” You trail off. He looks awful. Dark bruises mar the smooth skin beneath his eyes and his long hair lies limp across his shoulders. He’s soaking wet from the rain.

“Can I come in?” He asks and you nod at him, stepping aside from the doorway to make space for him to step inside.

He stands completely still after closing the door behind him – awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Let me get you a towel.”

You don’t give him time to reply, instead hastily retreating to your bathroom to grab him a clean towel to dry off. Perhaps it’s cowardly to run but you truly hadn’t been expecting to ever see him at your door again.

When you return he’s still in the same place, dark eyes watching you warily as you hand the towel to him.

“Thank you.” He says quietly, drying himself off the best he can.

You just incline your head at him before retreating back to your living room, jerking your head in the direction letting him know that you want him to follow you.

Your record had gone silent so you go over to your record player and flip it over before pressing play again.

“Why are you here, Jake?” You ask him, turning back to face him with your arms crossed tightly across your chest.

“To say that I’m sorry.” He gingerly places the towel down on the coffee table, his whole body looking tense and uncomfortable. You’ve only ever seen him look like that around strangers. Somehow, you suppose that that’s what the two of you have become to one another.

“Sorry for what?” You bite out, your hurt spilling over into your words like poison. “For leading me on for months on end or for fucking me in a bathroom and then calling it a mistake?” You don’t want to fight with him. Not anymore. But you can’t seem to stop the harsh words as they spew from your mouth – lashing out like an injured animal that’s been shoved into a corner. You suppose he has done that in a way, showing up at your own home unannounced in the middle of the night like this.

Jake flinches back slightly at your words, shrinking in on himself like he’s been struck.

“For… all of it, I guess.” He shrugs, eyes staying locked onto the floor at your feet. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” That makes you angry. So angry you could cry. He came all this way – did all those things to you… and yet he doesn’t know. “I think you and I both know that you owe me more than that.”

He nods once, eyes finally sweeping to meet yours. His gaze almost makes you soften. Almost.

“I assumed a lot of things, Y/n. And made an ass of myself because of it. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

You collapse onto your sofa, suddenly feeling like you’ve run a marathon. Jake eyes the spot next to you but makes no move to join you.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.” You tell him honestly.

“I- I thought you and Josh were together.” He admits quietly, shoulders sinking in defeat.

Somehow, you don’t doubt his words – nor do they shock you. You’ve known the twins long enough to see little hints here and there of the insecurity that lies buried within Jake. The way he’s quieter in large groups, like he feels like his words aren’t welcome. The way he shrinks back sometimes, afraid to voice his thoughts for fear of being judged or mocked. You've seen the way that he always looks to Josh in moments of doubt, like he can’t fathom ever going against what his twin might want of him.

Josh had even hinted about it once, a long long time ago. He’d told you that he worries about Jake sometimes when he thinks about when they’re older and he won’t be around to look after him. You hadn’t quite understood the meaning behind his words or the depth of their bond back then. But now you do. They’re connected in a way that you can never understand. Their very souls are intertwined – wrapped around each other lovingly just as they had been since the womb. It’s a beautiful thing that you even find yourself envious of from time to time. Bonds like theirs… It's something that doesn’t happen often.

But that bond seems to come with a caveat for Jake – burdened with thinking of himself as the lesser twin. He’d always been the quiet one, happy to let Josh be in the spotlight and content to bask in the residual warmness of him. You doubt either of them are really even aware of the way Josh always seems to be the leader. It’s natural to them – something that Jake has never seemed to have a problem with before. Until you came along.

“We aren’t. Nor do we plan on it. He’s my best friend, that’s all.” You tell him honestly.

“I know that now. Josh told me I was an idiot.”

You huff softly. He smiles tentatively in return.

“He also told me to stop feeling sorry for myself and to listen to what you’ve been telling me this whole time.”

You cock your head to the side, imagining the way Josh probably said the words. You can picture it – the little glimmer that undoubtedly took up residence in his eyes. He loves to play the wise sage.

“And did you?”

He nods his head.

“I think so. That’s why I came tonight. To apologize. And to beg you to let me try again.”

You sigh heavily, closing your eyes for a moment to listen to the rain tap against the glass.

“Please.”

You open your eyes to see that he’s come closer, those brown eyes of his boring into yours in a way that makes your knees weak. You’re fairly certain that those eyes will be the death of you some day.

“You really hurt me, Jake. All those times that we spent time together… the things that I told you – things I’ve never told anyone before. And then you just-” You throw your hands up in defeat, words failing you.

“I know what I did. And I am so so sorry, angel. I’m sorry for making you think that I could ever not want everything with you.” He sinks to his knees on the floor in front of the sofa, pleading eyes turned up to you.

“Then tell me.” You demand.

“I can’t.”

“Jake…” You sigh, feeling your walls beginning to stand themselves up again. You’re so tired of waiting on him.

“Wait!” He calls out sharply, the loudness of the word shocking the both of you. “Just…” He starts again, voice quiet again. “I need you to ask me first.”

You want to deny him. To tell him to man up and just say it. But the way he’s looking at you, the way his shoulders have drooped in utter defeat… You can’t find it within your heart to deny him.

“Are you in love with me?” The question escapes your lips soft and quiet – like a secret passed between friends.

“Yes.” His answer is a prayer and you his savior – this room his confessional and you his altar.

The air punches its way out of your lungs as his words register in your brain. Those words that you’d so desperately been wanting to hear.

“I love you too.” The way your own confession slips past your lips without any thought makes his eyes light up – as if he couldn’t believe it until he heard the words from your own mouth.

“Let me love you right.” He pleads, bringing his palms up to slide over your cloth-covered thighs. “Let me do this the way I should have the first time.”

“Okay.” You whisper, reaching out for him like a small child. You want to feel him – all of him, for the first time.

“Not here.” He says, rising from his knees and lacing his fingers with yours. “Your bedroom. Let me do it right, angel. Please.”

Once again, you’re powerless to deny him so you rise to your feet and lead him into your bedroom. He presses your shoulders lightly, signaling for you to lay down. You relent, falling softly into the mattress. He climbs in after you, eyes glowing in the dim lamplight. The light spills from over the lampshade in the corner, bathing you both in warmth. It makes his hair reflect almost auburn as he hovers above you. The room is silent save for the distant rumble of thunder and the soft sound of your record player wafting in from the other room. Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

Keeping his eyes trained on yours, Jake hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing momentarily as he waits for you to give him permission. You nod and he slides the fabric down your legs so that you can kick them off. His eyes sweep down your bare legs, lingering on your cotton panties and the ever-growing dark spot over your clothed pussy. His eyes stop at your knees, eyeing the bruises there.

“Did I do this?” He asks forlornly, delicately tracing his thumb over the marks.

You nod.

“I wanted it, though. It’s okay.”

He just shakes his head, pressing a featherlight kiss to each knee before sweeping his chocolate eyes back to yours.

“It’s not.”

There’s finality in his words. You don’t argue. Instead, you reach out for him, pulling him up towards you so that his weight settles on top of you, his knees pressed into the mattress between your legs. You unbutton his shirt slowly, reveling in each bit of tan skin it reveals. His necklace sways as he reaches back to toss his shirt to the floor. Your own shirt is next, leaving you in nothing but your panties and revealing your breasts to him and the cold air of the room. You’d opted to go braless since you got home and Jake seems more than appreciative. He stares at the hardened buds, licking his lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, palming your left breast in his calloused hand. It feels so good to have his touch on you and a whine spills out of you at the simple action.

“So are you.” You tell him, reaching out once more to unbutton his pants. He slides the denim off himself, revealing his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. You extend your hand to palm him through the material but he stops you. You flick your eyes up to him in question.

“Not yet. I want to worship you first. The way you deserve.”

He pulls your panties down your legs and a groan slips out of him at the sight of your glistening center. He’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You guess you are.

Without warning, he dips his tongue through your folds, drawing a whiny cry from you. He dives into your aching pussy with what you can only describe as reverence, alternating between dipping the tip of his tongue into your slit and circling your swollen clit. The pace is maddening as he goes from fast to soft again, making you writhe on the bed with each pass of his talented tongue.

“Oh, Jake.” You whine, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging. “That feels so good.”

He moans at your praise and the vibration makes your legs quake and your thighs to clamp down around his head.

“Please, Jake. More.” He answers your wanton cries immediately, pulling his face away from your dripping cunt and pressing a long, talented finger into you. He curls it upwards, brushing against that special spot inside of you.

You arch your back, mouth dropping open in pleasure as he keeps his finger pumping in and out of you as he descends back down onto your pussy, wrapping his lips around your clit and suckling.

“Please. Oh fuck!” You cry, thrashing your head from side to side as the pleasure inside you begins to build. “Please!”

“Shhh.” He shushes, rising from your heat momentarily. “You don’t have to beg, angel. I’ll get you there.”

He dives back in and the sound that comes out of you barely sounds human. The band in your belly tightens and tightens as your orgasm draws nearer and nearer. You’re chanting his name between each moan and your whole body begins to quiver.

“You’re so good, Jake. So good. Oh fuck!”

At your words, Jake moans loudly into your pussy and curls his finger just right – sending you crashing into your orgasm. You writhe and pant, eyes screwing shut in pleasured agony.

As your mind comes back to the present, you open your eyes to see Jake breathing heavily with a flush overtaking his bare chest.

“Can I taste you?” You beg, pressing your thighs together to try and relieve the ache that has already returned despite your climax just moments before.

“You don’t have to, baby.” He says with a lopsided smile, tracing delicate circles against the inside of your calf.

“I want to. I want to make you feel good.”

“You already did.” He says with a bashful smile and you notice now the wet patch darkening his boxers.

“Oh.” You breathe out, another wave of wetness escaping you and making your thighs slick.

“Couldn’t help it. You look so pretty like that, moaning my name and telling me how good you feel. You don’t- I wasn’t even expecting to cum tonight. I want this to be about you.” There’s only truth in his eyes.

“Come here.” You tell him.

He crawls up towards the head of the bed, settling in next to you as you toss one leg over his thighs to straddle him.

“Do you trust me?” You whisper, leaning in close to him.

“Of course.” He ghosts his lips over yours, drawing you downwards to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It’s nothing like the kiss you shared before, desperate and anger-fueled. This one is soft – almost innocent if it weren’t for the lust coursing through the two of you.

Once you pull away, licking your lips at the taste of him, you slide your body downwards and settle yourself between his legs. You mouth over his cock through the fabric of his boxers, his length already beginning to harden again. He whines softly, hands clenching in the sheets at his sides.

You use your teeth to pull his boxers down, eyes not leaving his own until his cock reveals itself to you. Everything about Jake is pretty and his cock is no exception. It’s perfect. His head is flushed red and weeping where it rests against his naval and you can’t help but to reach out and wrap your fingers around him. He hisses at the feeling. You stroke him, smearing his precum around to slick the way as you begin to pump him slowly.

Jake tosses his head back, plush lips falling open and melodic moans spilling from between them. His chest is flushed and sweat beads at his hairline, making his beautiful skin glow in the lamplight. You can’t help but to lean down and press a sweet kiss to his tip, then another down the side of him. Jake huffs a laugh.

“What?” You ask him with a smile, continuing to stroke him lazily.

“N-nothing.” He manages to get out, eyes fluttering almost shut. “You’re sweet.”

“So are you.” You tell him before sinking your mouth down around him.

He lets out a choked groan as his tip hits the back of your throat and his hips buck up off the bed.

“Oh fuck!” He cries out as you hollow your cheeks and slide your mouth up his shaft, pressing your tongue into the spot just below the head.

You bob up and down for a moment before he’s pulling himself from you and grabbing you to pull you up towards him. He crashes his lips against yours again, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moan but he swallows the sound, delicately bringing his hands up to cup your face as he kisses you.

“I need you inside me. Like, yesterday.” You tell him, earning yourself a sweet laugh.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

He flips you over so that your back is pressed back into the mattress and you watch in rapt attention as he grips his hard cock, sliding his tip through your folds to gather your wetness. Finally, he sinks into you slowly, savoring every inch as he goes.

You moan loudly as he finally bottoms out, halting his movements as you both revel in the feeling of being close again.

“You feel so good, Y/n. I should have told you the first time how wonderful you are… how beautiful.”

You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him in closer to you and you both moan as his cock slips deeper into you.

“It’s okay.” You tell him as he begins to rock into you – long, deliberate strokes that set your whole body aflame. “Fuck Jake, you feel so fucking good.”

His hair tickles your face as he fucks into you but you can’t be bothered to move it. You’re consumed by the feeling of him – of his cock hitting you so perfectly, by the noises that fall out of him after each thrust, by the way his face twists in pleasure as your walls clench around him. It’s all too much and not enough and you reach out blindly to grip his shoulders, pulling his torso down so that you can capture his lips again.

His lips are so soft as they move against yours and you can tell that he’s close already by the way his thrusts are growing sloppy and by the tremble of his shoulders. He’s holding back – waiting for your pleasure before he allows himself his.

“You feel so good, Jake. So, so good.”

“Yeah.” He whispers, bringing his hand up to swirl his tongue around the pad of his thumb before pressing it into your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. “Tell me you’re mine, angel. Please.”

Your back arches against your will as white hot bliss spreads through you, overtaking your body from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. Your mouth drops open and a loud whine escapes you as you try to form the words.

“All yours, Jake. All yours.” You chant, digging your fingers into his biceps as your orgasm builds yet again. “Yours, baby.”

He lets out a sound that almost sounds pained and his eyebrows pinch together as his thrusts grow faster and faster – the sound of his skin hitting yours and the slick squelch from between your legs filling the small bedroom.

“W- fuck! Where?” He begs you, his whole body trembling.

“Inside! Fuck, Jake. Inside. Wanna feel it. Oh fuck!”

He moans loudly as he finishes, painting your walls with his release and the sound of him is what drives you over the edge. Your release gushes out of you, drenching him in your pleasure as you both ride out your orgasms together. The world around you melts away to just you and him, blanketed in your pleasure and safe from everything else that threatens to come between you. It’s everything.

When you both finally come back to yourselves, Jake slowly pulls himself from you before allowing his weight to settle on top of you completely. It’s silent. The rain outside has finally stopped.

“I love you.” He murmurs into your sweaty skin, lips tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I love you too.”

-----

If you're reading this, I love you! 💗

Taglist:

@jakeyt

@joshym

@wetkleenex-gvf

@dannys-dream

@jakesguitarsolo

@profitofthedune

@jaketlove

@brujamagik

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf

@gvfpal

@ignite-my-fire

@demolitionndann

@mybussyinchrist

@writingcold

@way-to-go-lad

@sinsofstardust

@jjwasneverhere

@wildbluesorbit

@twistedmelodies

@neverwanttofallasleep

@sunandthemoontwinflames

@mackalah

If you would like to be removed from/added to my taglist just lmk!

#dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka

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sophieinwonderland · 5 months

Text

Now, why would you dare me to embarrass you and your pals like that?

I appreciate how you wanted my attention so bad you posted me to not one, but two subreddits.

Makes a girl feel special! 🤣

I have actually never seen Wikipedia cited as a source about endogenic plurality. Though I do see anti-endos all the time, when asked for sources, telling people to just Google things.

Anyway, here's @guardianssystem's document filled with academic papers about endogenic plurality:

I've compiled my own, but honestly, theirs is better organized than mine.

And in the interest of fairness, here are all the anti-endo papers debunking endogenic plurality:

Sorry, I forgot. Those don't exist. Oops. 🤷‍♀️

Echo chamber? LOL!

Weren't you the one spouting a bunch of lies on Tumblr, got totally debunked, posted the people who debunked you to r/systemscringe to have a hugbox where fakeclaimers could assure you how the people who contradicted you are all fakers, and then blocked everyone who disagreed with you?

Weren't you also the one who, when shown a quote from an expert in dissociative disorders who worked on the DSM-5 saying that a disorder isn't a disorder if it doesn't cause distress, argued that the people who defined what disorder are must be wrong about that definition?

You're a misinformation machine who can only find support when huddled in cringe subreddits. Don't try to talk about people in echo chambers.

Also, you know most of psychology is just... listening to people? That's how it's been as long as the field existed. DID (or MPD at the time) was a recognized disorder since long before the first brain scans were conducted on DID patients. It's saying something though when basically every single scientist who has ever researched endogenic plurality has said they believe it's a real thing, or that it could be. While absolutely zero academic papers have expressed that it's fake.

There is also an fMRI study into tulpa systems that's been in the works, but results have yet to be published.

Sure, if that's what you'd like me to call you, Crazy. 😊

Anyway, Crazy, you should know that just because you personally find something scary doesn't mean everyone will or that the thing is bad. Personal preferences are a thing.

In a study of tulpamancers though, most generally reported their lives becoming better after the practice.

78% reported improvements in their mental health, and 91% on overall life.

There are many out there who would jump at the chance to have someone there with them that knows them intimately, and to never have to be alone again.

If it's not for you, then so be it.

But it's certainly not something to be afraid of.

And maybe, for those who are willing to commit to the practice while America struggles with an epidemic of loneliness, it's something worth being open to.

This is actually pretty fair.

But that's now, and I'm looking at course of history and trends of plural acceptance.

300 years ago, any plural would be viewed as demon possessed and end up tortured or killed for their plurality.

70 years ago, all plurality was seen as a mental illness, and it was common to force plurals, as well as anyone else associated with mental illnesses, into asylums.

30 years ago, the first real plural communities were able to connect on the internet and form in small numbers.

8 years ago, the first studies into endogenic plurality started being conducted. 4 years ago, the ICD-11 acknowledged that you could have multiple distinct personality states without a disorder. 2023 marked the first, but certainly not the last, time a system used their system name as an author of an academic paper.

Recently, new plural resources have been designed and put into use. More servers than ever are using Pluralkit. And Simply Plural went from 100k users at the end of 2021 to 210k at the end of 2022.

Progress is happening far more rapidly than you realize. And you had best be ready for it.

BOO! 👻

Oh, hey, I just realized... this is literal pluralphobia!

Liberté!

Egalité!

Fraternité!

And yes, The Future is Plural! 😜

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bruhhhh-huhhhhh · 7 months

Note

if you could by chance, feed my obsession with some graves fluff, anything you want just something fluffy.

my obsession is out of hand, thank youu. <3

Anything for you boo thing <3

Coming Home

It had been a long few months for the both of you. You'd both be sent on missions by Shepard, a man you hated ever so dearly.

The worst part?

You weren't sent on them together.

You both didn't see each other, and when you did you had to act like you didn't know each other. It was nothing short of torture.

But you pushed through. The mission was simple enough. Get info and deliver it safely. It only took four months of sleeping alone in a safe house far too big for just yourself.

When you got home, you wanted nothing more than to see your boyfriend. But the house was eerily silent when you opened the door, and you knew that you had gotten home before he did.

So, ever so carefully, you sat your bag down in your shared bedroom and walked back out to the living room. You plopped down onto the couch, and started mindlessly scrolling through your phone that you had only just gotten back a few hours ago.

It took Phillip two hours to get out of the base and back to your shared home. The whole time he was nervously itching at his pocket, making sure his gift for you was still there.

When he finally got home, the sight of you on the couch made his heart leap into his throat. He missed you so much.

Graves sprinted to the couch, diving onto you and pulling you into the longest hug ever.

"Fucking hell, Phil," you complained, smooshed into his chest.

He just shushed you and placed a kiss onto your forehead. "I missed you," he confessed.

"I missed you too, but you don't see me jumping over the couch onto you."

"I didn't jump over the couch! I jumped from the side of the couch and... oh." It took him a minute to realize that he had, in fact, jumped over the couch. "Oops."

You just sighed and kissed him.

He, regretfully, pulled away and stood up. You went to follow suit, but he just pushed you back down. "No, no. I have something to give you," he explained.

You were curious as to what it was, but he was adamant on getting dinner and then giving it to you. Phillip ordered from your favorite restaurant and had it delivered to the house.

While the two of you waited, you cuddled on the couch and told each other everything that had happened while you were away. Graves got up and got the food from the driver, insisting that you stay sitting, and brought it over to the couch.

He placed the boxes on the coffee table and the two of you kept talking while you ate. Four months is a lot of time to be gone, after all.

When he was sure that you both were done eating, he cleaned everything. When you complained that you wanted to do something, Phil just shook his head and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "You deserve to be treated tonight. I don't want you lifting a finger."

With an eye roll, you let him keep doing whatever he wanted.

When Phil came back, he looked a little more nervous than before. Carefully, ever so carefully, he pulled something out of his pocket and got down on one knee.

"Y/n, I've loved you for a long time. I've known that I wanted to marry you for just as long. I planned on waiting just a little longer for the right moment, but after that mission we just had I couldn't. It was paining me not to have you with me at night. To not hear your laugh, your sarcastic comments. To not see the way you smiled when I told you I loved you or to see you roll your eyes at my jokes. I want you to be my husband so that I can argue when Shepard tries to seperate us. Will you marry me?" Graves asked, his eyes hopeful.

You couldn't help the smile that split your face, and you jumped off the couch and into his arms. "Obviously yes! God, I've been waiting forever for this!"

Phillip smiled and kissed you, tears springing to his eyes.

The two of you stayed like that for a minute before he pulled away and slipped the ring on your finger. It was beautiful, made with all your favorite colors and gems.

Graves picked you up and took you to your shared bedroom and laid you down in bed before getting in himself. He held you close to him, not wanting to let go.

He never wanted to let go if he could help it.

#cod modern warfare #cod graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x male reader #cod mw2 x you #phillip graves x male reader #bean writes #junkerqueen simp supreme

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modelbus · 4 months

Text

I've been in the worst writing slump... so I've defaulted to Kaz Brekker (oops). This didn't get as far as I wanted it to, but it's about 2k words!

Be warned: This contains death (murder), kidnapping, violence, skin trading, mentioned sex work, human trafficking (called "the skin trade" in here), weaponry, and I think that's it!

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Gn!Reader

Tricked Target

Time is as good as the kruge in your pockets in the Barrel. You know this well, considering you have little of both; money and time. Or perhaps you have too much time. It simply depends on how one sees it, you suppose.

Someone might take you pouring over papers on a desk as a waste of time. See the mahogany wood, stained dark, and curl their lips as the sheer money it must've taken to buy.

Someone else might realize this isn't your office, isn't your desk, and keep their mouth shut.

Tonight, that happens to be an unfortunate man named Zade Oren. Tied in his leather chair, black ropes expertly woven, a gag stuffed in his mouth, and both Achilles slashed for good measure, he learned his lesson.

Don't piss you off.

And although he isn't technically keeping his mouth shut of his own free will, it still technically counts. You give him the slightest of glances, just enough to monitor the tears dripping down his face from wide eyes, before returning to the papers you're rifling through.

"This would be easier if you had just cooperated." You muse aloud, flicking through a ledger before abandoning it. "But you guys never do."

He makes a pathetic sort of whimpering that makes you grin.

You aren't a bad person. After all, you only enjoy the blood on your hands when it's from the right person. The type of person you have at your mercy right now, for example. If anything, you're as close to good as it gets in the barrel. A type of vigilante, rather than one of the profit-seeking groups.

Dime Lions, Black Tips, Razorgulls, The Liddies, Harley's Pointers. Now those are some bad organizations. You're still on the fence about The Dregs; you've seen them do as much good as they have bad. Mostly due to the smaller organization within them. Or maybe the Crows aren't part of the Dregs anymore; you don't care. They're not of interest to you.

"Ah. Here we go." You hum, finding a record of a transaction. Zade gives a feeble cry. Useless, these men who beg for their lives. As if you'll ever give them back.

The transaction seems harmless enough. Four pearls for a sum of money. A sum far too large to be worth even some really fucking nice pearls. And, most importantly, names of the buyer and seller. Your eyes ghost over Zade's name as the buyer, focusing on the seller's name instead.

Then, you crumple up the paper and stuffs it in your pocket.

Pearls. What a stupid code name. The sellers determine it, and they're never very creative with code names. Always something valuable, never something believable.

All it takes is one person (you, in this case) to see what it really means.

Kids.

"I should be going, I think." You finally say, straightening. "Don't worry, don't worry. No more people need to get hurt anymore."

Zade slumps in relief, and you let a wicked grin stretch over your face.

"Oh, no, you've misunderstood. No people will be harmed by me tonight. But you're not really a person, are you?" Your head tilts, watching the panic wash over his features.

Like a cat toying with a mouse, you are. It's just so amusing though, to witness the fear. To let them experience what they've instilled in so many others. That despair? It's precious.

Your knife is sinking into his chest before he can protest any more. Pushing past the hard bone, sinking into his heart with a sick squelch. By the time you pull it out, he's already dead.

"Fool." You sigh, leaving him there and striding over to the window. Let his guards find him later, you don't care.

And when you hoist yourself out the window, scaling onto the roof, the office is almost as you found it. Only his dead body and a note to proclaim the kill as justified.

It reads the same as always: Hurt a kid and I'll hurt you next.

The Avenger is the name people like to call you. Or the rumors of you. Most of Ketterdam has the wrong ideas about you, but you aren't fixing to correct them. False assumptions only make your job far easier.

Honestly, you'd rather be called a protector. But avenger works just as fine. It gets the point across.

A shiver runs up your spine when you're standing on the rooftop, but a cursory glance around shows nobody. You didn't expect it to, but still. The feeling of eyes following you has only gotten stronger recently, but seeing as nobody has attempted to kill you yet you assume it's fine.

Some people are just too curious for their own good and like being spies. As long as they aren't fucking up your plans, you really don't care. Honestly. The feeling of eyes is perfectly fine with you.

"You could say hi. I don't bite." You murmur into the still air, but to no avail.

The feeling doesn't leave as you head back to your home, a dingy apartment near a lot of the gambling dens. It's rented from a landlord who couldn't give less of a shit—she's never met the guy—which was perfect for you. And the place was cheap, which was a big bonus. Not that you were hurting for money, because you had no problems about stealing from those you killed, but you preferred to use it for better things.

Like buying new knives.

Dropping back down to the alleys, your feet hit the cobbles without a single sound. Subtlety was an art form, one everyone had to perfect in the barrel. Unless they were rich enough to get away without it, but you were not. Sadly.

There's footsteps behind her, and you turn to glare at the stranger. Give them a silent warning to mind their own fucking business.

Luck is not on your side today though, because they lunge at you with outstretched hands and a knife. You dodge, slamming your body into a wall to avoid the attack, hands scrambling for your own daggers.

The attacker is big, an ugly snarl stretched out across his mug, a beard covering half his face. Professional, if you had to guess, and definitely after you. Oh, joy.

This time, you don't give him the opening he wants. You dart forward, metal gleaming, knowing that the only way to walk away is to remove the obstacle in your path. In other words: kill him.

You both scramble, your knife digging into his forearm due to a nicely executed move on his part, but you abandon it in his arm to stab at him with another. A hand on your arm, metal meeting metal, it's a raw fight. Evenly matched.

But you must be off, must be mentally occupied, because you don't hear the footsteps behind you until it's too late. It's not until something slams into your head, sending you staggering with black spots, do you realize someone else is here.

"And that's meant to be the Avenger?" The person behind you scoffs.

"They put up a pretty good fight before you came in." Burly guy answers, stepping toward you.

His shoes are the last thing you see before your eyes roll back.

There's a hood over your head.

When you blinks your eyes open, you're met with complete and utter darkness. Although you want to panic—desperately—you don't. You can feel the ropes tying you to some type of chair, your wrists pulled together behind the back of it and your ankles tied to the legs of the chair.

Panicking now wouldn't do anything for you, so you just sit in silence.

But you're frustrated. So frustrated that you let your guard drop, that you've gotten yourself into this situation. You refuse to be another Mar, refuses to be the second Avenger that befalls the fate they tried to prevent.

"Makes sense now why he's wanting 'em." Someone is saying, and you try to subtly tilt your head to listen in. "He's always collecting 'em dangerous skinny ones."

"Putting together his own little menagerie." A second voice joins in, laughing.

The words have you tensing, against all instincts. Are they selling you to the menagerie?

Everyone knows what the menagerie is. Girls, tricked into sex work—and sometimes men—and people all too willing to take advantage of them. One of the things you worked against, and, subsequently, one of your worst nightmares.

"Serves this one right. Sardonic, isn't it?"

"You mean ironic?"

"What the difference?"

Oh, saints. You haven't just been kidnapped, but you've been kidnapped by idiots.

"Both of you stop. He'll be here soon." And that's a third voice. Only two people grabbed you, and you're willing to bet this third is the boss.

You don't recognize the voice, but you haven't exactly heard the voices of many people that are high in the chain in the Barrel. Not unless it's them begging for life, and you never hear from them again after.

But now you know for certain that they won't be sending you to the actual menagerie at least. The double confirmation is nice, even if the unknown is a whole other worry.

A door opens somewhere, and there's an abrupt rush of footsteps.

"You're early!" Probably boss guy shouts way too loudly. "The Avenger is all ready for you, but still knocked out."

"How long ago did you grab them?" Oh, that's a new voice. Faintly familiar, although you can't tell from where.

It's been a long time since you've felt so helpless. Like things were out of your carefully measured control. Not since you came home to an empty apartment, a person missing from it.

"A few hours." Probably boss answers. You don't need your eyes to know he's leering at you.

"...and how hard did you hit? Saints."

"They're alive, ain't they? Pay up."

"How much did we agree on again?" A cool voice asks, and your head jerks up. You know that voice, you've stalked the owner of that voice.

Kaz Brekker.

"Oh, look at that. It lives." Probably boss laughs cruelly, and you attempt a glare at him through the hood. "And you know how much we agreed on. Hand it over, Brekker."

And there's your confirmation. Your didn't just imagine it; Kaz Brekker is buying you. Why? You've never interfered with his dealings. In fact, after confirming he isn't into the skin deal, you actively stayed out of his business. You definitely didn't need more enemies than you already have.

The sound of Kruge being exchanged, followed by gleeful exclamations, makes you grit your teeth. If Brekker wants a shot at you, he'll have to do a lot more than pay some money.

"Get out." Brekker says after a moment, cutting the guys who kidnapped you off.

"This is our-"

"Get. Out."

Nobody makes him repeat it a third time, as is evidenced by the sound of footsteps fading away.

He's bossy, but he has the power to be. The cool indifference in his tone, the brilliant business plays he's made. Scrappy, like you, but far more powerful. There's a raw hunger in him you don't have; that nobody but him has.

It's scary as hell.

"Untie them."

There's movement around you, and then the hood is yanked off. You squint, blinking a few times, before focusing on the irritatingly put-together man in front of you. Although looking roughly the same age as you, the Barrel makes anyone be adults far too fast.

Brekker stares down at you, gloved hands clasped onto his cane. Behind him, a Suli girl hovers. Inej, his wraith. A spy, as far as anyone knows. Not an assassin. So that means whoever is working on untying you is Jesper.

"You're in quite the situation." He notes dully, but there's a wicked gleam in his eyes.

It only makes you glare harder. "Thanks, I'm aware."

The rope around your wrists falls away and you bring your hands to your lap, but don't move to untie your ankles. There's a sharpshooter behind you and a girl with knives in front of you; You aren't completely stupid. And that's not to mention the damage you know Brekker can do too.

"I have a deal for you." Brekker says after a moment, taking a step forward. He switches his crow-headed cane to his left hand, holding out his right for a handshake.

You don't take it. "What's the deal?"

"I don't think you're in a position to be asking questions."

"What's. The. Deal?"

"Perhaps I didn't make it clear. Take the deal right now, or we'll dump your body in the harbor to drown."

Well. That's not a lot of options. Everyone knows to negotiate all terms of a deal before accepting, but what choice do you have? He's brilliant for this move, and you hate him for it. Saving your life, buying you, just to force you into a deal to live.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, reason why this is such a horrible idea, you're shaking his hand.

"Screw you." You spit out, life-saving be damned. Your grip tightens, just to spite him. Although his lips tug down, he doesn't pull away.

His reply is passive.

"Welcome to the crows."

#soc #six of crows #six of crows kaz #soc kaz #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #grishaverse #the crows #kazzle dazzle

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bella-rose29 · 9 months

Text

How's your sister?

Nikolai x f!Verkov!reader

Nikolai falls in love with his best friend's sister, much to Dominik's (apparent) annoyance.

I've mixed stuff from the books and from the show which is why they're Verkov's (I don't think Dominik has a last name in the books but someone let me know if he does).

This is also an apology for Golden Boy (please forgive me, part two will be out soon).

Word count: 3k (It wasn't meant to be this long I got carried away oops)

Warnings: mentions of being shot, people getting punched (really only Nikolai, poor guy), swearing, a very fast-moving relationship at the end

Tag list: @bubybubsters, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @notoakay, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @el-de-phi, @simbaaas-stuff

Nikolai met his best friend when he was 9 years old.

He didn't know it at the time, but Dominik would be his rock in the tidal wave that was life at court, and the two boys would be inseparable, no matter how far they were from each other.

They were sat in class, Dominik terrified of every movement, jumping and startled at any loud noise or harsh word, and when Nikolai's misbehaviour led to Dominik's pain, the prince knew that he had to change his attitude, the kindness in his heart outweighing his love for pranks. After that day, Nikolai was the perfect student, attentive and listening, although he quickly became friends with Dominik, creating a secret code to talk to each other in lessons, and spending the rest of their time running around in fields with the each other, covering themselves in dirt and grass stains.

When the two boys were 12, Nikolai had his first proper family meal at Dominik's house. He had snuck out in the evening, going unnoticed by everyone, and knocked on their door. Dominik had answered, giddy with joy that his friend had made it, but embarrassed at the state of their farm compared to the luxury that Nikolai was used to. Nikolai didn't mind at all, complimenting every detail and feeling more at home in this run-down house than he ever had in the palace, and Mrs Verkov's cooking was so good he thought he might have died and gone to heaven. He did the washing up, despite the family's protests, then reluctantly let Dominik help with the drying. His older brother was soon to go join the army, as Nikolai found out that night, and Dominik was worried for his safety.

It wasn't until years later that Nikolai would be able to help their family, but for now they were the ones helping him, giving him an escape and a place to just be himself (although Dominik's parents kept calling him 'moi tsarevich', and refused to use any other name).

One summer evening, the boys now 14, Nikolai was having dinner with Dominik's family again, laughing as he set out the cutlery and joking with his friend. A knock sounded on the door, startling the prince and making him drop a fork. Dominik rushed to the door, practically bouncing off of the walls, and as he bent down to retrieve the implement he listened to the sound of excited voices by the door. He had barely finished standing up and brushing the dust off of his knees when Dominik returned, pulling a girl along by her hand and chucking her bag in a corner.

"Dom! Be careful with that, it's got all my stuff in it!" she scolded lightheartedly, and Saints her voice was the most magical thing he had ever heard. She poked his friend in the side, laughing when he recoiled, and Nikolai decided that her laugh was even more magical than her voice.

"Oh, this is my friend, Nikolai," Dominik said, gesturing towards the golden haired boy. "Nikolai, this is my sister, Y/n. She just got back from boarding school in the south." Nikolai stared dumbly at her, face going pink. She was beautiful.

"Hi," she said, sticking her hand out. He took it, offering a shaky smile.

"Hi," he replied. "Wait." He furrowed his brow. "Are you sure he's your brother? Because I'm not seeing any resemblance here. I mean, you're gorgeous and he's... Dom." At her laugh, he flushed more deeply, and realised he was still holding her hand. It was warm, and soft, and he never wanted to let go.

She leaned in close, speaking in a loud whisper. "I'm fully convinced we're not actually related and he was swapped with my real brother, because you're totally right, I am stunning."

"You know that I can hear you both, right? I am stood right here. But please, by all means, go ahead." A wicked gleam entered his expression, and he opened his mouth to speak again. "Maybe I should talk about the time that Nikolai-" he was cut off by a hand slapping over his mouth, eyes going wide with silent laughter as he took in Nikolai's panicked expression.

"Please. I'm begging you, no embarrassing stories." Dominik nodded, still holding back his laugh, and Nikolai slowly removed his hand.

"I'll consider it. I'm expecting you to make it up to me at some point, you bastard."

"Language!" his mother shouted from the second room, and all three of them burst into giggles, with Y/n snorting loudly. "Dinner's ready too!" They made their way to the table, Nikolai engineering it so that he was sat next to Y/n after getting another set of cutlery for her. They talked about anything and everything, learning things about each other and pelting mash at Dominik when he commented on how close they already were.

"How come you go to boarding school?" he asked at one point, curiosity getting the better of him.

"My aunt is on the governor's board, but she refuses to send us any money. Luckily for me, she believes that 'all young ladies should have a proper education'," - at her fake posh voice, Nikolai laughed - "so she convinced them to take me in on a scholarship. Don't have to pay for a thing."

When dinner was over, washing up done and goodbyes said, Nikolai didn't want to leave. He'd had fun, more than he had in a while (which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he had a crush on his best friend's sister), and he knew that tomorrow would be gruelling, filled with meetings and extended time with old ministers. The walk home was cold, the sun having set hours ago and clouds covering the night sky. When he went to bed that night, he couldn't stop thinking about Y/n.

~~~

The next time Nikolai saw Dominik, he immediately asked "How's your sister?" and his friend groaned.

"No, absolutely not. I am not doing this with you," he wagged a finger in Nikolai's direction, walking off in the direction of the lake, the prince jogging to catch up.

"Not doing what? I'm just asking a question," he said.

"You're not though, because I saw you the other night, chatting her up and everything, and as much as I love you, Nik, I also love my sister."

Nikolai spluttered, searching for the right words to convince his friend that his sister was Nikolai's soulmate (maybe a little over the top, but then again Nikolai was always one to have a flair for the dramatic).

"I was not chatting her up! And if I was, I would have done it so well we'd already be married, thank you!"

"You have far too much confidence in your abilities, Nikolai. You were chatting her up, and you were doing it badly." They reached the lake, sitting down on the grassy bank and going silent for a few minutes. Dominik sighed. "She's fine, if you must know. Asked where you were yesterday, since we were having a whole family meal again."

"Really? She asked about me?" He perked up at that, mind already racing with thoughts of her.

"Yes, she did. But not in a 'I want to marry him' way, just in a 'I'm a nice person and I'm curious' way, so don't get your hopes up." Nikolai nodded, smile on his face. He couldn't stop thinking about it all day, or the next, or in fact for the rest of the week, and when he next saw her, he'd planned everything out so meticulously, nothing could go wrong.

~~~

He face-planted in front of her.

He hadn't meant to, obviously, but he'd been distracted at seeing her in the Palace gardens, and had lost his footing, tripping over his own feet. She'd seen him walking and waved, shocking him and making him fall.

Rushing over and very clearly trying not to laugh, she helped him up, asking if he was okay.

"I'm alright, Y/n. Thought I was going to step on... a frog," he winced at his terrible excuse, then at the state of his clothes (state: covered in mud), but she didn't seem to mind. "How come you're here?"

"School trip. Something about how one day we'll all be in court if we're lucky, and marry rich. Personally I think prof just wants to get a good look at all the fancy women, since he's apparently a 'ladies' man'," she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder as she gestured to her teacher and Nikolai laughed. "Are you sure you're okay? Can't have been a soft landing."

"Seriously, I'm fine. I've had worse, like when Dominik shoved me in the river that one time."

"Well, as long as you're alright. Wouldn't want to damage your pretty face now, would we?" she said, then turned and walked off, a skip in her step as she rejoined her friend. He stared at her retreating form, blush creeping up his neck and onto his face as he took in her words.

Did she just...?

How come he was the hopeless one, and she was the one flirting? He chalked it down to the fact he'd fallen over, and wasn't quite himself because of it, then brushed himself off slightly and kept walking.

~~~

When Nikolai was 16, he was obligated to take his year of service in the army, and Dominik went with him. Instead of taking the usual position of power, Nikolai joined the infantry, becoming a normal soldier with the people of his country and building up connections with them.

For the past two years, every time he had seen Dominik (which had lessened the past year after Dominik's family were banned from the Palace) he had always started off with the question "How's your sister?" and although he had said it was just a joke now, Dominik knew his friend better. He always rolled his eyes in response, and eventually smiled about it too, after the night before they left for the army.

Nikolai had come over after the celebration at the Palace, sneaking out in the dark despite having been caught by Vasily the year before, not needing light since he knew the way like the back of his hand. Arriving at the farm, he knocked on the door, catching his breath for a moment.

He promptly lost it, however, when Y/n answered the door, juggling the handle and a towel as she dried her hair. She'd been back at school the past two years, staying there over the summer, so he hadn't seen her, but Saints, had she gotten more beautiful? She'd clearly just washed her hair, robe tied tightly around her and her hair wet and limp around her face, but Nikolai couldn't help but think of her as stunning.

"Are you going to come in, or keep standing there with your mouth open?"

He quickly shut it, then the door behind him, blushing (he seemed to do that a lot around her) at having been caught. He could never tell if she felt the same way or if that was just how she acted, but he hadn't seen her with anyone else to know.

"Aren't we all banned from seeing you, or something?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Everybody's having a party about me being sent off into certain doom, so it was easy to get out. I won't stay long, I just wanted to see your parents before I leave tomorrow."

"Well we're all in here, sorry about this," she gestured to herself. "Just had a bath since I got back from school about an hour ago. Carriage was boiling, I was practically sweating my tits off in there." He malfunctioned slightly as he tried to not think of her in the bath (it didn't work), laughing belatedly at her final comment. She looked at him weirdly, smiling in confusion, then moved into the family room.

"Nik! What are you doing here?!" Dominik jumped up, swiftly embracing his friend in a hug so tight he thought his lungs might burst.

"Couldn't resist. Besides, how's your sister?" the last part was whispered, a smirk on Nikolai's face.

"Why don't you ask her yourself, dumbass, given she is also in the room."

"Ask who what?" Y/n piped up, picking up on the fact the boys were having a conversation.

"Yeah Nik, what did you wanna ask?"

"Oh, just... How are you, Y/n? Haven't seen you in a while, is all. You still look gorgeous, by the way," he finished with a wink, revelling in her faint blush and small laugh.

"Thanks, Nik. I'm alright, school's horrible, though. Not that I'm complaining, mother, I just don't enjoy having to sit with a pole up my back for 10 hours every day." Nikolai and Dominik winced at the idea, and the prince could sympathise. He'd had the same training when he was younger, and eventually it got so bad he sat with such perfect posture the broom was never seen again (and definitely not because he'd burned it).

Dominik's mother stood, wrapping Nikolai in a hug similar to the one he'd received from her son not too long ago, and Nikolai mourned his possibly bruised ribs. His father did the same, slapping both boys on the back and congratulating them, wishing them the best.

Nikolai sat with them for another twenty minutes (at the request of Mrs Verkov, and he couldn't really say no when she presented a cup of tea), then got up to leave, saying his goodbyes to Dominik's family and promising to find his friend tomorrow.

"I'll walk you out," Y/n said, and he followed her out to the front door, waving at her parents and Dominik.

She stood nearby as he shrugged his jacket on, then as he turned to leave, she pulled him into a hug, and he realised she was crying.

"Promise me you'll be careful?" she sniffed, wiping the tears off of her cheeks when she pulled back from his chest. He moved her hand away, brushing his thumb over her face in a softer attempt to remove the tears.

"Promise."

"Okay. You'll... you'll come back to me- to us, right? Alive and in one piece?" His heart leapt at the idea that she wanted him to come back to her, and he nodded, hand still holding her face.

"Alive and in one piece. I'll come back to you, I promise." She nodded, then hesitated for a split second before pushing herself up onto her tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek.

"I'll see you in a year then, Kolya." And she turned and walked back into the other room.

"See you in a year," he muttered, fingers pressing to the space where her lips had been.

~~~

When Nikolai returned from the army, he redoubled his previous efforts to get the court to like him, becoming even more charming and likeable than he had been before. He told himself it was because he was the spare, and therefore needed some way of garnering support within a group of people that were more likely to favour his brother, but really it was because he'd heard that Y/n was getting married.

He hadn't seen her since he'd come back, but when he had met up with Dominik a few days ago, he asked his usual "How's your sister?" expecting the normal rolling of eyes and vague response. Instead, he received a wary look, and the knowledge that she was engaged. Nikolai had gone numb inside, and had thrown himself into becoming the person that court wanted him to be, all the way up until he had gone to University.

Running away and becoming Sturmhond was one of the best decisions he had ever made, but he thought about Y/n every day. Sailing the True Sea had been a dream they'd had together, and now that he was doing it without her, he couldn't help but feel the pang of longing for her company, married or not. He couldn't bring himself to find out anything about her life, not wanting to die of heartbreak when he found out about her incredibly handsome husband, their five children and a dog (maybe a little dramatic, but still).

Then Alina Starkov had turned up, and turned his world upside down.

After spending time with her hunting the Sea Whip, he figured that a back up plan would be needed, and decided that an alliance between the Lantsov throne and the powerful Sun Summoner would be beneficial. She would make an excellent leader, and in time he was sure they could grow to love each other.

Then he'd had to reveal his identity when they crash landed in the Ravkan first army, and she'd punched him in the face.

Dominik came over, laughing at his friend who was now clutching his nose, but bringing him into a tight hug all the same.

"Long time no see, how have you been?" he asked.

"Oh, same old, same old. Sailing around, destroying enemy ships, tracking mythical sea monsters, the usual. How's your sister?"

Dominik rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his face. Nikolai had told him that Y/n had kissed his cheek when they were in the army, gushing about it and how hopeless he was, and Dominik had agreed. It wasn't long after that his friend, albeit reluctantly, decided he wouldn't mind having Nikolai as a brother, and had warmed up to the idea of his best friend and sister being together.

"She's alright. You could always ask her yourself, though." Nikolai frowned, not understanding his meaning.

"Why do you want to know about his sister?" Alina cut in, still mad about the betrayal but curiosity outweighing it.

Dominik laughed. "Because he's hopelessly in love with her. Seriously, I can't get him to shut up about how she's 'the most beautiful girl I've ever seen', or how 'she's the-'" Nikolai shoved him, and Dominik stopped talking to prevent himself from falling over, breaking off into more loud laughter.

"Shut up," he muttered, face going red. Alina was smirking, and had apparently (for now) gotten over her earlier fury. "What did you mean, ask her myself? She's off in some country house with her rich husband, isn't she?"

"Nope. Never actually got married. Not when he found out I didn't like riding a horse sidesaddle."

Nikolai whipped round at the new voice, then stared in shock at the woman in front of him, looking somehow even more beautiful than the day he'd left her.

"Y/n," he said, the word spoken almost like a prayer. "You're... you're here. Wait, why are you here?" She laughed lightly, and Saints he'd missed that sound.

"Joined the army. As a medik, don't worry. I'm not actually on the front lines or anything, I just stay back here, tending to the wounded. Speaking of wounded people, who punched you? Because your nose is bleeding a little bit."

"I did, sorry," Alina spoke up, and Y/n just smiled, shaking her head.

"He probably deserved it, to be honest. I don't know what he did, but I'm sure I would have done the same."

Great, now they were bonding over the desire to punch him in the face. Y/n walked over, using a scrap of cloth to wipe the blood off his face, then throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"I've missed you, Kolya."

"I missed you too."

She pulled back, inspecting his face for a few moments. He was nervous, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he realised that the last time they'd been this close, she'd kissed him on the cheek. He didn't have to worry about that this time, though, since she pulled even further away, and before he could miss her warmth, she slapped him.

"What was that for?!" He held his face for the second time in the last ten minutes, looking at her incredulously as she stood with her hands on her hips.

Pointing a finger at him, she said "For getting shot, you dipshit! And for leaving without telling me, and for never writing!" Before he could apologise, however, she brought her hands up to his face and kissed him on the lips. He froze, arms hanging in the air awkwardly and eyes open wide, then relaxed, bringing his arms around her waist and closing his eyes as he kissed her back. He was just about to slip his tongue in when a very obvious cough sounded from his left, and he reluctantly pulled away to see Dominik watching with a disgusted look.

"If you're going to suck face, please do it where I can't see you. I do not need to ever see my best friend and my sister making out ever again, thanks." He shuddered, then pretended to gag.

"Okay," Y/n replied, and before Nikolai could do anything, she'd grabbed his arm and was dragging him off to a tent. When they were inside, he realised it was her tent, seeing the little decorations that were so completely her. She stopped abruptly, causing him to crash into her back. "Shit, sorry, I didn't think I was gonna have anyone in here, to be honest, so it's a mess. Let me just-"

"Darling, you know I've seen Dominik's tent, right? This is perfection compared to the mess he creates," Nikolai cut her off, stopping her from tidying the space. "What was the kiss for?"

"You- what?! Saints, Nikolai, I thought you were meant to be smart?" She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Because I love you, idiot. I always have." He gaped at her, before remembering himself and closing his mouth.

"You have?"

"Yeah. Dom was pissed when he found out I liked you, though. Not sure why, given how close you two are. Thought he would have been glad to have you as an official member of the family, as an actual brother. But yes, I have loved you since that night we talked about what we would do if we were free, and you spoke about it as if we were both going. I knew I was a goner then, because of how easily you talked about your future as though I would always be a part of it. So yeah, I love you, Nikolai Lantsov. That's what the kiss was for."

"I love you too. I would have taken you with me, on the True Sea, like we'd planned, but I thought... well I thought you were married, so I didn't ask. Also it wasn't really planned, I just had an opportunity so I took it and-" he was cut off by her mouth on his, and she was smiling into the kiss.

"I get it, Kolya, you don't need to explain, alright? But next time I'm expecting an invite, no excuses."

"Of course. I love you," he said again, smiling broadly. He would quite happily spend the rest of his life telling her those three words over and over again, doing nothing else, and having no regrets. The next two words that came out of his mouth he hadn't planned to say, but they happened anyway.

"Marry me."

She froze in place, and Nikolai worried that he'd gone too far, opening his mouth to take back the words.

"Yes."

Now it was his turn to freeze, seconds later breaking into a grin as he picked her up and spun her around, kissing her when he set her down.

"Wait," she said, brow furrowed, and his heart skipped a beat in fear. "What about the court? They'll never accept me."

"I don't care. I love you, and I'm not wasting another minute of my life being without you. Besides, it'll be good for them. It's not like you're uneducated, you went to a fancy boarding school. And if that's not enough we can come up with some bullshit story about how we're marrying to 'unite the different classes of Ravka' and it'll be beneficial for keeping the 'commoners' on side," he used the same fake posh voice she had all those years ago at the dinner table, and she giggled, nodding as he made his argument. "We'll know that we're marrying for love, and so will the people that most matter, like your family. They're the only opinions I care about, alright?"

"Alright." She was smiling widely, joy written all over her face as she took in his words. Seconds later, fear crossed her features. "Oh fuck."

"What? What is it?" He panicked, thinking she was already having second thoughts.

"Dominik. He's going to freak out when we tell him. Poor boy can only just handle us kissing, what's he going to do when we're married?" Nikolai laughed, loud and booming, hands coming to hold her waist.

"He'll just have to deal with it. He dealt with all the pining for years, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Pining? You were pining for me? Aw, Kolya, that's adorable!"

"Yeah yeah," he grumbled. "Like you weren't also pining for me, darling."

~~~

When they emerged from the tent a while later, holding hands and blushing, speaking to each other in soft whispers, Dominik could only smile affectionately, having overheard the whole conversation.

"Idiots. I've been planning this wedding since they met."

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