#no. down? yes. i even got some drawings of him with l-- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joonberriess · 4 months

Text

k e r o s e n e

⋆ TAGS — cheating, older!oc, oc’s a mommy (her hubby’s a hunk), obsessive!jk, blackmail, dead dove do not eat, non-con and dub-con (oc never says yes at all bc she’s coerced even if she "gives in"), dark, smutty smut, tit play, mentions of breast milk, protected sex and then unprotected sex (dw reader is secure n safe!), harassment bc jk does not take no for an answer, threats that oc lowkey gets hot n bothered by, exhibitionism but my way (SPOILER: someone gets fucked next to a sleeping body), some plot, slight(?) dirty talk, jealous!jk, jk is not a good guy at all, oc’s morals r questionable 2, open-ending, SOMEONE DIES sooo, office sex, angry(?) sex, drugging, meanie!jk, degradation, breeding kinks r mentioned, misogyny and objectification, possessive!jk

⋆ WORD COUNT — 15 k

I can live in your dreams, will you be my fantasy little baby?

“Oh, it’s you.” You let a breath of relief from your lips, “Did you need something?” There’s a small pause and you end up averting your eyes.

The tension is heavy and it has your stomach twisting in knots out of anticipation. Your eyes flicker over to him and you make eye contact in an instant. You stare into his eyes nervously as an all too familiar sensation of feeling like prey washed over you.

“Always so cold,” Jungkook’s steps are calculated and slow, his dark gaze stays on you the entire time, “but for you though? I’ll take anything y/n.” He stops in front of your desk with a wicked little smile, “My bad–Mrs l/n.” He corrects himself.

You bite your tongue as a twinge of annoyance passes over you, “Jungkook..” A soft sigh of frustration leaves you, “One of these days you’re going to get me in trouble if you keep calling me by my name, it makes people think..we’re close..” You murmur the last part to yourself while looking to the side, “ ‘s not something I feel like explaining to the dean either.”

Jungkook draws closer to you, he slides his hand along the surface of the desk as his fingertips lightly graze the wood. Your eyes drop down nervously, you take a step back but he follows. You’re at the corner of the desk when he finally cages you in with one arm, “And why would you have to explain to the dean? Hm? What kinda stuff you got goin’ in your pretty little head?” He grins.

He’s so close you’re practically inhaling his cologne, he smells undeniably good as you hold yourself back from breathing in more of his intoxicating scent. You jump when his fingers brush over yours, “Relax,” Jungkook laughs playfully, “you’re always so tense.”

“Was there something you needed?” You finally breathe out after realizing that Jungkook wasn’t going to be paying attention to anything you’ve said up until now. Telling him to stop would be like letting him off with a slap on the wrist and you figured it was better to see what he wanted so you could get this entire interaction over and done with. “I have a few meetings to attend so my time is short.”

A few beats of silence pass and Jungkook doesn’t say anything which makes it harder for you to figure out what he was feeling. “Do you now?” He hums, “But no, nothing much, I just needed help with the rubric.”

You quickly retracted your hand from his and stepped away from the desk, “What part did you need help with?” You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, just itching for this entire interaction to be over.

Jungkook beckons you over, “How am I gonna show you if you’re all the way over there?” He snorts, “C’mere, I won’t bite.” He breathily hums while he fishes out the papers from his bag.

You wobble over on uneasy legs with your arms folded numbly over your chest. You’ve long tuned out Jungkook’s voice, the only thing you were acutely aware of was where his hands touched as he talked to you. You peered from the corner of your eye to watch as he stroked up and down your arm slowly. Occasionally he’d give you a small faint squeeze to the arm while his thumb rubbed circles over your goosebumps.

“y/n?” Jungkook’s voice grounds you back to reality, you’re suddenly more aware of your surroundings—more aware of him. “You with me?” He appears out of the blue in your face, you flinch at the close proximity and turn your head.

“Yeah.” You softly breathe out, “I, uh think you should be fine. You’ve never failed the other assignments before, so this should be no different.” You tug your arm from his hold, “Is there anything else before I go?” Despite slipping on your coat, Jungkook’s piercing gaze manages to make you feel like you’re naked. “Jungkook..?” You whisper.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side as his hooded gaze racks over your covered form, “Mm,” he toys with his lip ring and bites his bottom lip, “nah, I think I got somethin’. I’ll see you around, Mrs l/n,” he coos softly while licking his lips.

You’re left standing alone with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

I can be what you need, little baby. Just tell me what you need.

You’re not sure when the obsession began, nor WHY it even existed. Had you possibly led him on? Did Jungkook get any mixed signals you might not have been aware you gave him? There were so many why’s but very little answers.

Jungkook came from a very wealthy background (old money), his father was a famous business tycoon and Jungkook was set to inherit the family company in the future. Much like his father Jungkook lived up to the Jeon name. He was ambitious, intelligent, and cunning. If things weren’t going his way it was known that Jungkook would make it happen one way or another.

What Jungkook wanted, he got. Thanks to daddy’s money of course. Despite this though Jungkook proved to be a highly intelligent individual. His exam scores over the years were proof. Even now Jungkook’s scores were at an all time high, he was the picture perfect example of a good student. The perfect role model if it weren’t for his rather unorthodox behavior.

It began with little thank you notes attached to snacks, then small gifts like plushies and flowers. From the very beginning you had been wary of his gifts, you couldn’t decipher whether he was sending them platonically or romantically, but you being the absolute saint decided to give him the benefit of doubt. That alone would be your demise.

What began as brief polite conversations slowly turned into lingering looks and wanton whispers of unspoken desires.

You as his teacher knew better and tried to set things straight with him but each time you sat him down he’d give you those devilish eyes of his and leave you a sputtering puddle. What even was the point if Jungkook always managed to turn you into a mess with his cocky attitude?

You found yourself worrying about your job more often. Jungkook simply didn’t care about the ring you wore around your finger, it’s something he’d come to tell you many, many times. You partially blamed yourself for not being firmer with him, Jungkook was a brute who had no regards for your personal boundaries. It was evident in the way he cornered and handled you to his liking.

Which is why you weren’t surprised with him anymore.

“Comin’ to bed soon love?” You look up to see your husband propped up against the doorway with his arms folded over his bare chest. You’re tempted to look further down when you notice he’s wearing those damned sweatpants, the ones that hung low on his hips.

“Yeah, I have one more left and then I’m all yours.” You sleepily smile while blowing him a gentle kiss, “And Jae? Did he fall asleep already?”

Jicheol brushes his wet hair from his face with one hand, “Out like a light, must’ve been real tired from today.” He comments, “Which reminds me of a certain someone’s bedtime.” He gives you a look that immediately has butterflies fluttering, “If you’re not in bed by eleven I’m comin’ in here and carrying your ass out. You’re warned.” He tosses you a little smirk over his shoulder before slipping away and shutting your office door.

Your face flares up like a shy schoolgirl as you chew on your pen to distract yourself from the not so nice thoughts invading your brain. You notice the papers you’re holding belongs to Jungkook, you’re surprised he ended up at the bottom of the stack. You scratched your head in wonder and curiosity since you wanted to see what Jungkook wrote. With a lazy hum you lean back in your desk chair and begin reading.

‘I can be your baby in real life, sugar,’

‘Look me in the eye tell me I'm the one,’

‘Can't you be my fantasy, little baby?’

Your heart begins to race and you swear you can hear your heartbeat hammering in your ears. Shock fills your entire being the more you read and the heat never leaves your face. You don’t know what to think or say, this by far was something you would have never guessed would happen to you. Not even in your wildest dreams, or nightmares.

The icing on top was the fact that he had written within the essay requirements and had met each and every one of your expectations so technically the essay was valid and you couldn’t just toss it out. It was clear that he had thought it through, he went about his word play smartly and knew how to phrase his words just damn near perfect.

So here you were now going through a crisis because your very hot student just said he wanted to bang you in different positions all night long. You felt like if this kept up with him you were going to be taking a paid or unpaid leave, it didn’t matter to you as long as you could take a break and get away from this all. Get away from him.

“Babe?” Jicheol’s voice brings you out of your moment of hysteria, “It’s past eleven-ten come to bed now, yeah?” He strolls into your office, “Damn, that bad?” He says while eyeing the papers sitting in your hands. He goes to reach for them when you finally snap out of it and yank the papers back. “Uhh..okay, didn’t know it was THAT bad of an essay, now quit playing and come to bed.” He groans tiredly.

You place a hand over your racing heart and sigh, “I don’t wanna talk about it.” You toss the essay onto the desk and lead your husband out by the arm, “Let’s just call it a night.” You mumble while hiding your face in his arm. Jicheol doesn’t mention anything else.

“He went too far.” You whisper under your breath while turning away from the innocent papers sitting on your desk—innocent but oh so ominous.

Since reading it you’ve been on edge. You tried to avoid the topic of essays during a lecture but a sweet girl had asked and you were forced to talk about them. Jungkook had a (knowing) smirk the entire time as you informed the class that you indeed had finished reading and grading them. You hadn’t meant to but your eyes slowly gravitated towards him, your gazes met until you were the one who turned away with a flushed expression.

A gentle but firm knock brings you out of your inner turmoil, “Who is it?” You softly call back while turning to the door with a hand over your chest.

“Me,” Jungkook replies while already slipping into the room like he has many, many other times.

Your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a flip, this was harder than you initially thought it would be. You’re not so sure this is even a good idea but you inhale deeply and close your eyes, “..I’m going to keep this very brief with you,” you step behind your desk while reaching for the essay lying on your desk, “the essay—why?”

Jungkook grins softly, “What?” He shrugs innocently, “Didn’t like it? Was I a little too ‘vulgar’? Not somethin’ you’re used to people telling you?” His gaze alone is enough to make you feel like he’s undressing you with his eyes, unpleasant little shivers creep up your spine and you try not to let it show how nervous he’s making you.

“Don’t–” You raise your hand with gritted teeth, “..There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed, and you’re crossing every one of them. I warned you time and time again about your..‘actions’ but you’re not taking me seriously.” You give him a pointed look trying your best to come off as stern.

Jungkook lazily grins, “Oh but I am taking you seriously Mrs l/n,” the way your name rolls off his tongue shouldn’t make your stomach swoop the way it does, he takes a step closer and you backwards, “ ‘s why you’re my favorite teacher y/n.”

Your patience finally snaps, “Let me make myself clear: these little games of yours? Stops today. I’m not entertaining you nor the stupid child’s play you have going on. If this keeps going I’ll report this to the dean and have you removed from class.”

You try your best to stand tall and keep your gaze unwavering but Jungkook’s a challenge though. He stares back defiantly with his dark onyx eyes—they’re empty and void of any emotion (his tongue poking the inside of his cheek says it all though). “Really now?” He hums, “Let me know how that goes for you,” he chuckles under his breath while reaching over with a tattooed hand to play with the family picture lying on your desk, “Cute you even came up with that silly little idea.”

“Excuse me?” You watch closely as he handles your picture frame so carelessly in his hands.

“Go on,” he nods his head as his lips curl in amusement, “run to the dean and tell ‘em allllll about how inappropriate I am. You have my essay as proof,” he licks his lips, “I wonder if they’ll think the same thing as me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, “pretty face..soft lips..” His gaze drops down before he’s meeting your eyes again, “Pretty everythin’.”

You clear your throat, “Leave,” you point to the door, “I can’t have you in my class any longer. So leave, I’ll have this situation sorted with the dean by tonight so expect to receive a letter or email.” You hold your hand out for the picture frame, “Jungkook.”

Jungkook tosses the frame up in the air a few times, each time making your heart skip a beat as you wait with a bated breath. “Okay.” He grins and places the frame in your hold, “There’s a tiny little problem though,” he mumbles and suddenly grips your hands tightly and squeezes.

You gasp in surprise as he tugs you closer until you’re both leaning face to face. He’s so close you can smell his spicy scented cologne, the forced proximity begins to make you panic with fear. The only thing separating you two is the desk and nothing else—even then you have no doubt he’d just pull you over the surface if he wanted to.

Your eyes flicker over his face a few times and you nervously lick your lips, “Let me go,” you’re not sure why you’re whispering when you could be yelling and screaming bloody murder right now.

But you don’t.

“Jungkook–”

“You know,” he starts softly, “my dad always said if I wanted something then to take it. No one’s going to give you anything simply because you say please and thank you. You’re either at the top of the food chain or…the bottom. ” You make a wounded noise and turn your cheek to him as his hot breath fans over the side of your face, “and right now ‘m gonna take.” He mumbles, “And if I have to take a little walk down to the dean’s office and tell them that my beloved professor is making moves on me—I will.”

Your eyes widen and his grip slowly loosens when you start going lax in his hold, “You wouldn’t want me to tell everyone their favorite teacher likes fucking her students? Maybe we can make it a little spicy and tell them how we’ve been having a three month affair? Hm?”

“Y-You’re insane.” You yank yourself back from his hold in a rather harsh fashion. You cradle your sore wrists to your chest and stare back at him with glossy eyes, “None of that is true and you know it.”

He barks out a laugh, “Oh baby,” he wipes an imaginary tear from his eye, “who said anything about truth? It’s a wonder what money can buy these days.” He hums, “ ‘s a reaaaalll shame my dad funds a few organizations here too don’t you think? Maybe my dad should have a loong phone call with the dean tonight, they’re pretty good friends after all. I’m sure they’d like to catch up.”

You feel like your world is crashing down, he’s cornered you and now you’ve got no escape. You’re filled with hopelessness and despair, Jungkook’s got you right where he wants you. “C’mon don’t make that face,” you don’t notice when he comes to stand in front of you, “no one has to know..” He coos quietly while backing you up into the desk.

“Jungkook–” Your hand comes up to push his arm away when he sets it right next to you on the desk, he cages you in with his breath fanning over the side of your face because you refuse to look him in the eyes. His hand is so close to your thighs too it nearly has your heart jumping out of your throat. “Jungkook, please.” You whimper while turning your face as the two of you look into each other's eyes.

His lips part but a knock brings the two of you out of your trances. He looks at the door in annoyance and clicks his tongue, “Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters more to himself while refusing to move from his spot. “Mrs Gong?” You hear one of your students say, “I was um, wondering if you had a few minutes to talk about the essay.” She says softly.

“Go on,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, “answer her.” He teasingly nips at you.

You tremble under him and push at his chest repeatedly, “Y-Yes..! Give me a moment I’m finishing up with another student right now dear,” you yelp when Jungkook strokes over your inner thigh, slapping a hand over your lips for a few seconds, “... J-Just sit out there, I’ll come in a bit.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly, and ignores the fierce glare you throw his way. “Let me go, Jungkook.” You attempt to slip away from the desk but Jungkook brings you back in with a hand curled around your waist, “Jungkook–” He silences your desperate pleas with a soft little ‘shh’ as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You can’t do anything but helplessly stare back at him, angry at yourself for being so weak and caving in.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen baby, so listen carefully,” he softly whispers, “I’m going to leave you my phone number and you’re gonna answer me later on tonight—ah-ah, none of that now,” he says when he sees a protest bubbling up, “you’re gonna be a good girl and reply okay? I don’t give a fuck if your husband is there or not, if you don’t answer me baby I’m gonna be forced to do somethin’ ugly and we don’t want that now do we? No, that’s right.” He talks to you like he’s speaking to a child or something. “Got it all down?”

You nod timidly and hold your tongue, “Good girl.” He smiles and lets you go, “Remember baby: answer.” He waves his phone in the air teasingly while stepping away.

You watch him walk to the door, he stops briefly and your heart skips a beat wondering what he could want now. “And for the record—I meant every little word just now.” He smirks darkly before pushing the door open and stepping out. You’re left standing there in the middle of the room trying to calm your racing heart.

“Mrs Gong?” The girl timidly calls out.

Your eyes snap over to the picture frame sitting in your hands and you take a deep long breath, “Come in.” You just dug yourself a hole you can’t even get back out from.

You looked out of your class window to see that the sky was beginning to set and it was a lovely shade of red-orange hues mixed with purple. You quickly glanced down at your watch and figured now would be a better time to leave. You shrugged your coat on and carried your things out the door. The janitor greeted you on your way out as you made your way down the dimly lit hallway.

The campus was pretty lonely and empty save for a few people here and there. Your heels clicked against the pavement as you made your way down to the teachers parking lot. From a distance you heard another pair of footsteps but you paid no mind thinking it was probably another teacher or the security guard. Sometimes things were too good to be true.

“Was beginning to wonder where my favorite teacher wandered off to.” Jungkook calls out from behind. He stands there with his hands in his pockets and a hand combing through his slightly messy hair. “Thought she might’ve run off for a second, we can’t have that happening now can we?” He hums.

You let out a chilly breath and shake your head, “Been busy with work and life stuff..” Your eyes are lowered to the ground, you refuse to meet his eyes because you already know what’s staring back. “Did you need something?” You tilt your head.

Jungkook toys with his lip ring and nods, “I’m guessing that’s why you requested days off for next week then hm? Husband takin’ you on a little trip, is that it?” He looks mildly bothered but the underlying possessiveness in his tone makes it easy to ignore. “Tell me baby,” he steps closer while caging you in between him and the car, “you trying to get away?”

You look up at him through your lashes and shake your head, “Jungkook, we’re outside.” You squirm around uncomfortably, “Someone’s gonna see us..!”

“C’mere,” he curls his hands around your waist and tugs you into him, “we got some business of our own.” You nearly stumble when he begins walking you two away from your car, your eyes dart around the parking lot in panic as you attempt to budge yourself away from Jungkook.

“Where are you taking me? Stop..! You realize how crazy this looks,” you turn your head in time to see a sleek black car come into view, no doubt it belonged to Jungkook though. “Why am I here Jungkook?” You pushed at his chest until he finally stumbled back a little.

Jungkook gives you a playful smile, “Out, gonna give you a nice little send-off before you run off from me next week baby.” He reaches around you to unlock his car, “Get in, ‘s fuckin freezing out here.” When you came out the sky was still colorful, now it’s completely dark and the only thing around was the orange lighting from the several lamps in the parking lot.

“Jungkook I’m not getting in the car with you,” you hopelessly look at him while pursing your lips in an attempt to suppress the oncoming whine, “I have things of my own to do, my husband is waiting for me.” You secretly relish in the way his eyes narrow when you mention ‘husband’, “Can’t all this wait for another day?”

He props himself against the car, his gaze drops down to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands baby,” he leans down to whisper low in your ear, “we do this the easy way or something really bad can happen.” His lips slide along your cheek gently, placing a small trail of kisses to the corner of your mouth.

You meet his eyes as a thick wave of tension falls over you both. He takes your silence as an answer and pecks your lips, “Get on then,” he murmurs. His car lights up in a fuschia pink color when he starts it, you feel small curled up in his leather seat.

This is it. You’re really doing it.

Your heart races even faster when you see Jungkook reach over to shift the gears, “Wait, Jungkook–” You slip your hand over his marveling in the size difference, “My car, I can’t leave it here.”

Jungkook lets the steering wheel go and for a minute you think he’s giving in, but ignorance is bliss. He tugs you in by a hand to the cheek, slotting his lips over yours as he uses his hold to keep you still. You sit there unresponsive in complete shock, Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind as he occasionally tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth. He moves his lips languidly until wet little smacks begin to fill the quiet car.

You reach over to push him off but he quickly snatches your wrist up in his hold, you barely even fight back as you end up falling into his touch even more. You make soft noises as tiny little moans spill into Jungkook’s hot mouth, your lips are glossed over and slicked up with spit from his kisses.

Jungkook pulls away and pants hotly into your mouth, “You make it hard to control myself.” He quietly murmurs while pressing chaste kisses on you, “You have no idea,” he whispers, “those pretty little eyes and sweet lips drive me mad sweetheart. Fuck,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

Jungkook quickly shifts the car and begins pulling out of the parking lot. You end up hopelessly looking back at your car as it gets smaller and smaller the further he gets. To add more salt to the wound your phone buzzes loudly in your purse, you pause and Jungkook does too. “Answer it.” He says whilst slipping his hand over your knee, “C’mon baby, don’t keep him waiting.”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears as your worst fears come true, Jicheol’s texting you asking if everything’s alright and if you’re coming home now. Your eyes slide over the words over and over again, you can’t bring yourself to reply to him it was too much. Eventually though (because of Jungkook’s piercing gaze) you manage to reply that you’re heading out for drinks with some colleagues.

Jicheol replies with a ‘have fun, love u lots’ and something inside of you twists bitterly. “Tell him not to worry,” Jungkook turns to face you at a stop light, “me and you? We’re gonna have a nice loong conversation all night.”

“Relax pretty,” Jungkook mumbles behind you, “just sit back and let me do all the work.” His big hands settle over your hips using his grip to guide you towards the large bed sitting in the middle of the room.

Originally (or so you’ve been told), Jungkook was planning on having a dinner date first before taking you back somewhere for some fun. But here you were, standing in the middle of a hotel room feeling like a cheap whore. Funnily enough Jungkook had picked out a couples suite too judging by the rose petals, candles and bottle of wine.

You came to a stop in front of the bed, your hands were gripping the sash tying your coat together in an effort to stop Jungkook. Like everything else though, he took again and again.

His hands pried yours off and slipped the coat right off your shoulders, it pooled around your feet and you were left standing in your white blouse and black pencil skirt. You could feel his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck, sending pleasant little shivers down your spine.

“Look at you,” he whistles low as his hands cup both of your tits through the blouse, “like a wet dream come true, you’d make any man fall to their knees baby.” He purrs while massaging both soft mounds, the stimulation has your tits aching and nipples hardening through the cups of your bra.

A weak whimper slips past your lips, you reach up to grip his wrist tightly rather than attempt to pry him off. You stumble over your coat just trying to get away from him, “Jungkook—no,” you turn in time to see him advancing towards you like a predator.

He licks his lips slowly as he reaches out to gently shove you onto the bed, “No what baby? I’ll treat you realll good, show you how you’re meant to be fucked stupid. I’d have you hangin’ from my cock in a heartbeat, ‘s all you’re good for baby: takin’ cock and bein’ filled with cum.” Jungkook climbs over and pins you on the bed, “Don’t need to use your pretty little head when you’re with me baby,”

You cry out in surprise when he rips your blouse open and leaves a flurry of hot open mouthed kisses over your chest and peeking tits. “Fuckin’ hell,” he snarls and yanks the bra down, your tits come spilling out from the cups. He takes a hard nipple into his mouth and suckles gently, mimicking that of a hungry babe.

“Oh,” your eyes squeeze shut as hot pleasure shoots all the way down between your legs where you need it the most. His tongue rolls and swipes over your nipple repeatedly, he hums low and sneaks his other hand up to cup your tit. You moan louder as Jungkook fondles the soft flesh in his hand and your nipple ends up rubbing against his palm.

“You like that?” He rasps out and pulls away to give your other nipple the same treatment, “Got such slutty little tits for me, bet I can make ‘em leak for me.” A cheshire grin paints his lips as he deviously licks over your wet nipple, “We’ll just have to wait ‘n see, don’t we little mama?”

It feels like you’re in heaven right now just by having your tits played with. It wasn’t like Jicheol and you didn’t have an active sex life—nor was it boring by any means—but one thing that never quite went away was the sensitivity in your tits. Another thing you had discovered was that you still had some milk in there, if you played with them for long enough your tits leaked like crazy (Jicheol knew this firsthand).

Your eyes flutter shut as more moans force themselves out of you, “Fuck–wait,” you whisper out while pushing his head away, “hurts a little…” You mumble while shivering from the cold air hitting your wet nipples.

“Gonna taste that pussy of yours baby,” Jungkook reaches for the zipper to your skirt, “wonder if it’s as pretty as you.” He licks his lips hungrily, “Show me,” he pats your thighs and tugs the skirt down your legs.

Jungkook moans when he sees the lace garter attached to your sheer black stockings, “God, look at you. You were made for me weren’t you baby?” He strokes over your legs and then pries them apart, settling nicely between your open legs.

Jungkook tugs you close until your hips are pressed tight against his own, you can feel the print of his hard cock through his joggers. It feels hot and heavy, you’re already picturing how big his cock’s gotta be and the mere thought is enough to make your mouth water. As ashamed as you are to admit it, but you’re eager for him to fuck you. You want him to make good of his promises to fuck you all night in different positions until you can’t cum anymore.

A wave of regret washes over, “Wait,” you sit up and cover your chest with one arm mentally preparing yourself. If you were going to cheat, then you were going to make sure you didn’t remember any of it, “pass me a glass of wine.” Your lips are pursed in a soft pout, gaze half-lidded and dreamy-like (a charm you used on Jicheol to get your way at times).

“There you go sweetheart,” he reaches over for the entire bottle and pops it open, “let yourself go for me.” He purrs and brings the wine directly to your lips.

You become hyper aware of everything around—the rain that hits outside the fogged-up windows, the faint crackling noise from the candles, and the shuffling noises from the bed. How much time has passed since you both got here?

“Oh fuck..” You hear Jungkook breathily mutter under his breath, he continues to fuck his cock in and out of your soaked and sopping pussy without abandon. The lube ends up dripping from your folds and slides down the crevices of your cum splattered cheeks.

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve cum, your clit’s numb and rubbed raw by now. An array of used condoms litter the trashcan nearby and by the looks of it the box might be empty after this round. Surely he’ll stop there…right?

“Hear that?” He grunts with effort as he smacks his hips into yours, “Sloppy pussy drippin’ all over me, ‘s like you were made for me, made to take cock ‘n be my lil’ cock sleeve.” He purrs low and lowers himself until he’s hovering over you. His strong hand comes up to grip your thigh, he wraps it around his waist and holds you close while he fucks into your greedy pussy over and over again.

Your face heats in embarrassment as the squelching and slapping noises get louder, you manage to bite your bottom lip and suppress the cries and whines that threaten to slip out. Everything about this is so good, from the way he fucks down to his heavenly cock that Jungkook sure as hell knew how to use, but you rather die than admit your enjoyment openly.

“Shit.” Jungkook looks like a wet dream come true as his head hangs low in pleasure and his necklace swings back and forth from the force of his thrusts.

You’re scrambling to find a grip on him, your hands curl around his shoulders and hold on for dear life. Your once quiet sighs become louder mewls and moans, little breathy “uhs” leaving your lips. The louder you get the harder he goes, he’s driving his cock deep inside with such force you wonder if you’ll be able to walk after this.

With each punishing slap he lands there’s a sweet little sting that follows afterwards. A particular thrust startles you bad when he brushes up against your g-spot. You find yourself leaning into him, thighs widening around his waist as you angle your hips in a way you know his cock will hit the spot.

“Mm–wait, ‘s good there,” you breathe out, “fuck..right there…” Your words are slurred and come out borderline pornographic reminding you of a porno or something.

Jungkook doesn’t reply anything other than a grunt, he reaches down to hook your thighs over his shoulders. He’s pressed so close his chest is rubbing up against your sore tits each time he lands another thrust. You’re finally letting your moans slip as the volume begins steadily increasing inside the room. The noises you both make rival those of the creaking and skin slapping.

“My name baby,” Jungkook whispers over your lips, “let ‘em know who’s fuckin’ this pussy.” The crazed look he has in his eye paired with his wild thrusting has your orgasm slowly ebbing away at you again.

You don’t like how close he is, how exposed you’re feeling from the forced face to face proximity he has you in. The hunger in his eyes has your cunt clenching around him like you’re afraid he’s gonna stop fucking you. Jungkook lets out a low moan and reaches up with one hand to squeeze your chin tightly, “C’mon, don’t go all stupid on me,” he licks his lips.

“Jungkook,” you softly moan as your lips part in a tiny ‘o’ from the grip he has on your chin/cheeks, “mmph—’m coming..!” You grit your teeth and arch your back just a tiny bit given that Jungkook’s got you in a mating press.

Jungkook lets your face go and does the unexpected, he lands a hard slap on your ass before he’s rubbing the sore skin gently, “Louder.” He lands another smack, this one hurting more than the one before.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out with watery eyes.

“Again.” Smack.

You manage to whimper out a half-garbled cry of his name, your pussy rhythmically throbs around his cock in a milking motion. There’s a nasty sound each time he bottoms out balls deep inside, your thighs shake and tremble from their spot on his shoulders. You’re left with a dazed cloudy feeling afterwards—nipples sore and your pussy wet as hell.

“Mmm,” you bite your lip and turn your face away in dizziness, “s..leepy..”

Jungkook doesn’t stop fucking you even if you sleepily beg him to stop. He pumps away at your spent cunt until he’s coming with a low groan of your name and a throbbing cock. You let out a sleepy sigh as your eyes begin slipping shut, you feel Jungkook gently tap your chin to get you awake again, “Open up for me baby, we’re not done here.” He hums low.

You woke up early in the morning after barely managing to catch any sleep. Jungkook had his face tucked in the crook of your neck and his arms tightly wrapped around your body. Your back was pressed against his chest where his necklace tickled the back of your neck. His hands were folded over your middle, grip tight and snug. You were beginning to wonder how the hell you were getting out.

“Fuck my head hurts,” you whisper out while lifting your head to survey your surroundings.

Clothes, shoes, bags—they were tossed everywhere. The sheets were sliding off the bed and the comforter was completely off hanging to the side. You spotted the empty glass of wine and two cups sitting together on the nightstand next to the candles, bitterly reminding you of the night before.

“I need to get out of here.” You whisper while tightly wrapping the white sheets around your body.

You don’t know how but you somehow manage to untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms and slip off the bed. Jungkook’s still sleeping so you use this as a chance to dress and leave quickly. You’re not too sure if you’ll be leaving anytime soon if Jungkook wakes up.

“Shit.” You frown when you see all the messages Jicheol sent you (there were a ton of missed calls too).

jicheoooll<3 : babe r u ok?

9:23

don’t get too wasted, call if you need me to come

9:35

having fun??

10:00

you staying with friends tonight babe? pretty late alr

10:57

gn, call me in the morning beautiful

Once you manage to get dressed and call a taxi, you put all your attention to replying with a made-up story in your head. The guilt is eating you alive but you can worry about feeling like a shitty person later, right now you need to get away.

The cold air hits you in your face when you step out of the warm building, people are going about their days and cars are moving steadily through traffic. You hear a beep and you see your taxi parked on the side of the road. For now you can forget and you’ll worry about Jungkook later, you think to yourself while slipping into the warm car.

Your heart begins pounding at the sight of Jicheol’s car which is still parked out in front when you come home. You check the time on your watch and numbly realize he must’ve called in, the guilt feels ten times worse. With a heavy sigh you park the car in the driveway and slip out with your things and coat in hand. You were going to have to face him and your son one way or another, no use in crying over it now.

“What’s done is done.” You find yourself thinking out loud while heading up the steps. Your key is halfway in when the door suddenly opens and the warm air from inside hits you in the face. You’re momentarily stunned as you stand there with your hand still hovering in the air, “Jicheol.”

Your husband lets out a breath of relief as his big hands come up to cup your face inspecting for any injuries etc, “You’re okay,” he says in obvious relief, “did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah..” You whisper back, “Think ‘m gonna shower though, I stink.” You complain softly while heading inside rather quickly in an attempt to avoid Jicheol because you don’t know whether you want to cry or scream at your own guilt, “How’s Jae?” You were hoping to slip away to the bathroom before Jicheol could catch up but he’s hot on your tail after shutting the front door.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bitterly think while turning the hot water on.

“He’s fine, your mom came and picked him up last night. He’s gonna stay over for the weekend.” Jicheol slips his hands around your waist and gently guides you into the spacious bathroom, “Wanted to be here when you came,” he mumbles in your ear while kissing over your neck and shoulder, “missed you last night.” His hands slowly unbuttoned your messy blouse, “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout your fine ass, should’ve never let you walk out the house like that.” He huskily says.

Normally you’d shudder in anticipation and delight but right now the guilt is eating away at you. Your eyes slip shut in an attempt to focus and steer your mind away from what happened last night but god Jicheol’s making it hard. No matter how much you try to think about something else, your traitorous mind finds a way to flash images of Jungkook ripping your top open and sucking your nipples till they were sore and leaky.

“Got such slutty little tits for me, bet I can make ‘em leak for me.”

A breathy little ‘yes’ falls from your lips when the pair of hands massaging your tits slip under the cups and knead your sore mounds of flesh. Jicheol rolls your nipples between his fingers knowingly, tugging just the way he knows you like. “So fuckin’ needy.” Jicheol chuckles darkly. You lose yourself in the feeling as moans and sighs fall, the heat from the water running isn’t helping much either.

Your eyes slip open and a noise of confusion leaves you when Jicheol stops to tilt your chin towards him. Everything shifts back into place and you’re suddenly aware of everything around you—the running water, the steam, Jicheol—you try to ignore the disappointed feeling you get in your chest (you're scandalized that you’re feeling disappointed to begin with).

“You okay baby?” Jicheol looks worried, “Want me to stop?”

“No,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug him closer to you. Jicheol stares at you through half-lidded eyes, licking his lips hungrily when you bring his face down. Your lips hover over his, “I missed you too.” You whisper quietly before closing the distance between you two.

Jicheol releases a muffled groan and slips his hand down to grip your hips tightly, you sigh blissfully when you press up against his front. You can feel the outline of his cock pressing against your lower stomach, sitting there throbbing from its confinements. He mutters a husky “fuck” and lifts you up onto the countertop with your back pressing against the foggy mirror.

Jicheol always makes you forget.

You ended up pulling Jungkook aside after a lecture sometime later on during the week. You spend the entirety of your mini-vacation at home sulking in discomfort anytime you think about what happened with Jungkook, and Jicheol wasn’t making it any easier with his sweet self. It was driving you insane and you felt like you needed to talk about it to feel a little better about your shitty actions.

Jungkook already has a sly little grin on his face when he slips into your office, “Why the pouty little face? You’re the one who called me here,” he folds his arms over his chest as he stands in front of you with amusement written all over his features.

You meet his eyes hesitantly and take a few seconds to gather your thoughts, “Now that you got what you wanted, can we both mutually agree this little thing of yours is over?” What’s scarier than Jungkook’s anger is his silence. It was like trouble was brewing in your face and you didn’t know how to stop or control it. “Don’t look at me like that Jungkook, you knew what was coming. I’m married for fucks sake,” you whisper to him, eyes darting back and forth between him and the door.

“Our thing.” Jungkook loudly corrects making you turn your head in alarm, “last I remember it takes two to tango baby, ‘n you sure as hell didn’t seem done when I fucked you all night long. Or did you forget?” He tilts his head to follow your gaze when you begin avoiding his eyes, “Hm? C’mon sweetheart, tell me how much you enjoyed it—how your little pussy was so good to me and soaked my cock?” He cages you in and yanks your chin up to face him, “C’mon, say it.”

You let out a terrified whimper and try to push him away but Jungkook pins you up against him, “Jungkook–let go,” you turn your face away trying to look away, “get off..!”

“Oh but you loved it baby,” he coos out while watching you fight against him like a child throwing a tantrum, “ ‘s why you gave it up to me so easily,” he pouts mockingly, “rode ‘n fucked me like the little fiend you are sweetheart.” He rasps hotly in your ear, “Gripped my cock nice ‘n tight with that soaked cun—”

You moaned wantonly as he wrapped his lips around a sensitive spot on your neck, through your panic though you began pushing at his shoulders to stop him from leaving a mark, “J-Jungkook, no,” you bite down on your lip with a muffled moan, “fuck—just listen to me dammit!” You grip his face in both hands, “There are rules and boundaries Jungkook, you can’t just fucking waltz in here doing shit because you feel like it alright?! My job, my reputation, my LIFE is on the line and you’re more concerned with getting your dick wet? Do you just not care that my life can potentially—no—be ruined, all because you’re a rich brat who wanted pussy?”

Jungkook recovers from the initial shock when you snapped at him, he cups your face and slams his lips against yours. You pant hotly into his mouth while he spins you both around and guides you onto the desk, papers and pens go flying as Jungkook comes to stand between your parted legs. You’re forced to let him in as he moves his slicked up lips desperately, he kisses with such ferocity it knocks the breath out of you.

“Mmph—Jungkook,” you whisper between harsh breaths and kisses, “stop.” You gasp out as he buries his face in your neck and leaves more filthy opened mouthed kisses.

He pulls away with a soft pant, “You don’t want me to, trust me,” he tilts your chin again so you’re facing him, “I’ll make your life a living hell in point two seconds baby, don’t test me. Unless you want everyone to see how much of a cock slut in bed you are, is that it baby? You want them to see how pretty you look when you’re hanging off this cock? Because I can make it happen.” He darkly whispers.

A sick part of you shivers at the threat when he talks to you in that low tone he uses when he’s angry. Your pussy has a second little heartbeat down there because of him, you can’t even say you’re ashamed anymore. You silently stare because you refuse to give him the satisfaction of replying. Jungkook doesn’t need to hear it though because he’s already leaning in to kiss you more gently than before.

“Don’t need to think,” Jungkook mumbles, “just sit ‘n look pretty for me sweetheart, ‘s all you need to do.” He trails off as his hands slip up your skirt, hooking his fingers around your panties and tugging. They come sliding down to your ankles while Jungkook works his belt open, “Gonna give you what you need,” he trails off.

Your lust filled eyes meet him in a fierce stare down, not once do you look away as he spreads you open and makes himself comfortable between your legs. You hate how easy it is to submit and fall under his control. You were supposed to be the one with authority here, not him. Funny how he turned you putty in his hands each time.

Jungkook fists his cock with slick noises, he’s pushing through your slicked up folds and you feel the head poke at your unclenched leaking hole. There’s a filthy little voice in the back of your head that hisses in excitement chanting a series of ‘yes’ and ‘in’ over and over again. Your cunt’s hungry and desperate to be stretched out by his fat cock.

“.. Just shut up and fuck me.” You find yourself whispering while wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him closer.

Jungkook forgoes the condom entirely, he taps his cock over your pussy a few times before he’s pushing in with a low hiss. He fills you up inch by inch, everything feels so much better with him going in bare. Your mouth waters at every little bump and curve you feel, your pussy opens right up and molds to fit around him.

Your lips fall open in a silent moan as Jungkook bottoms out in your tight little sopping hole, your rim stretches and hugs his cock nice and snug. It’s a tight fit but you’re in utter bliss right now, and even if you wanted to complain at the small sting you feel when he shifts but you don’t bother to. Jungkook’s not going to listen anyways, he never has.

“There you go,” Jungkook bites on his bottom lip, he keeps you steady with his hands curled around your waist, “open right up for me baby.” He breathes out.

His hips slowly roll forwards, he idly grinds and bumps his hips against yours. You feel some pressure here and there, like your poor pussy’s going to burst but each time he moves you feel him hit a sensitive spot. Your hips jump when the tip nudges into your cervix, just poking like he’s testing the waters or something.

“Jungkook–” you huff, “slow down, hurts.” You try shifting around to see if you’re able to steer his cock away from your cervix.

Jungkook lays a soft apologetic kiss over your shoulder before he’s hoisting you closer, he has your hips tilted at an angle where he’s striking dead on into your oversensitive walls. You moan in relief, biting down on your lip to keep your noises in. You nearly forget that you’re both still on campus, fucking on your desk like it’s some cliche porno.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Jungkook whispers into your ear, he hooks his chin over your shoulder and fucks into you. His hips roll into yours over and over again, slipping in and out of your drenched pussy with ease. You can faintly hear the wet noises start up wondering if your desk will be salvageable by the end of this.

You find yourself holding on to him tightly with your arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders. Your moans threaten to spill out each time he fucks himself in, the tip keeps grazing over a sweet spot repeatedly sending pleasant little shivers down your spine each time. Jungkook doesn’t stick to that languid pace for much, he ends up bucking his hips eagerly and shoving his cock deeper.

“Oh fuck,” he rasps out while hugging your body tighter, “c’mon, make some noise for me baby. Let ‘em know who’s fucking this greedy cunt.” He grits his teeth and slaps his hips into yours with a loud squelching ‘plap’.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” as if on cue your pussy makes another embarassingly loud squelching noise. You’re so fucking wet it’s slipping down between your asscheeks and pooling under you. “And these tits,” he groans and slaps one through your blouse, “such pretty fuckin’ tits on you, wonder how they look all swollen and filled. Maybe I’ll breed this cunt till you catch, it’ll make a nice little surprise for your husband.” He grins wildly.

You whine loud—it’s unintentional (you’d like to think)—the very thought of possibly ending up pregnant sends a sick thrill down your spine. You find letting cries and whimpers slip from your lips, they’re louder and clearer than before. Jungkook smirks knowingly and you know what he’s about to say, but he simply lays you back on the desk and lifts your legs over his shoulders. The angle changes again and your mouth falls open.

“There..!” You throw your head back and groan.

His cock repeatedly punches into your g-spot, you scramble to get a hold of something to keep you grounded. You feel like you’re going crazy with him hammering away at your sore cunt and your impending orgasm bubbling in your lower stomach. Jungkook’s face hovers close and you can feel his hot breaths fanning over you.

“There?” He moans, “Like it when I fuck you stupid huh? Pretty pussy all meant to be mine,” he slows down but keeps his pace brutal, “gonna fill you up baby, you’re lucky I can’t put a baby in you.. Or else.” He darkly mumbles while leaning down to swallow up all your moans and sighs.

Your eyes flutter shut from the strong pleasure, he knocks the breath out of you each time he bottoms out. Your clit throbs pathetically from neglect and you desperately want to reach down to soothe it but Jungkook’s pounding you so good you can’t focus. Your lips part with a needy cry, he uses it as a chance to bite on your bottom lip and swipe his tongue over the seam of your lips.

“C..um, ‘m gonna cum,” you softly whimper while arching into him, “please ‘m so close.”

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, he quickly falls into you and rolls his hips into yours over and over again. You trap him against you but Jungkook figures out a way to keep moving. Jungkook grinds into you slowly, letting you feel every inch and the girth. This makes your mouth fall open as a shudder runs through your body.

“Fuck..” You begin shaking from pleasure, your arms slip from his shoulders but Jungkook simply hoists you upright into his strong big arms.

You’re caged against his chest while he slowly fucks in and out, you’re so close you just need a tiny little push. If Jungkook could just hit that spot one more time—ohh.. “Jungkook,” you feel a strong tremor pass over you. Your cunt squeezes him tightly, rhythmically clenching and massaging him as you cum all over him and yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t let up no matter how tight you get, he’s groaning and hissing under his breath while whispering the most filthiest fucking praises, “There you go baby, jus’ like that. Go on and make a mess for me, want you dripping my cum out of that loose cunt of yours.”

He cums a few minutes later with a loud moan, you like the feeling of his throbbing cock buried deep inside as he unloads all his pearly white cum into you. You squirm around a few more times but Jungkook ultimately ends up gripping your hip to stop you, “Shit–don’t do that.” He moans painfully.

The two of you pant quietly while trying to catch your breaths. It turns into a slow little make out session you can’t refuse or resist because he’s that sexy post orgasm glow. You’re lips-locked when a knock brings the two of you out of whatever world you were both just in.

You pull back from his lips with a wet noise, panting hard as you try to catch your breath from the brutal fuck just now. “Mrs Gong?” You hear one of your students say.

Jungkook’s still hazy from his orgasm (evident in the way he looks at you all blissed out), he tucks his face in the crook of your neck and quietly moans when you clench around his half-hard cock. He doesn’t say anything thankfully, “I’ll be right out,” you finally manage to say without sounding like you just ran a marathon.

This boy was going to be the death of you.

jungkook : get ready, gonna take you out. wear somethin pretty too

You frown in both annoyance and confusion, when and how did Jungkook get your address? “I don’t even wanna know.” You mumble while shaking your head, with Jungkook there’s no limits to his depravity. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had someone paid to get your information.

You look over at the bedroom door and make sure it’s closed before you sneak to your closet and dial Jungkook, “What the hell do you mean we’re going out?” You mutter while balancing the phone on your shoulder, “I don’t remember little dates being a part of this arrangement.”

“The tongue you got on you,” Jungkook says from the other line, “makes me wonder if I need to stuff it with somethin’ else damn baby. But we’ll save that for another day, today I wanna take you somewhere nice,”

You pulled a sweater from a hanger and paused, “Jungkook what’s the dress code?” You sigh in exasperation, all this talking and he still wasn’t telling you anything. You figured you might as well make the best of it, “Hurry up I still have to call my nanny to come take care of my son, I don’t have all day.”

“Casual, not too casual though. I’ll see you in five.” And with that he hangs up.

“Great,” you sigh while tossing your phone on the bed after shooting the nanny a quick text, “I’ll see you in five, my ass,” you mimic while finding something nice to wear.

The door creaks open and your son Jae comes running in making excited airplane noises, “Where you goin’ mama?” He tilts his head, “Are you going to see aunties for lunch? Ooh, can I come, can I come?” He buzzes in excitement while smiling from ear to ear.

“No baby, mama’s meeting a different friend, a work friend.” You gently correct yourself while surfing through your jeans, “Wanna help me choose an outfit,” you squat to Jae’s level and brush his unruly hair out of his face, “looks like I’m gonna need your eyes for this Jae.”

His eyes widened comically, “Mama but you have your own!” He gasps while covering his face with his tiny hands, “These are my eyes!” He squeals while running out of the room.

You grin deviously and chase after him with a “come back here”. The house is filled with your giggles and Jae’s excited yells and laughter, you end up chasing Jae back to your room as the little boy hides himself under the blankets.

“C’mon, mama wants to look pretty today won’t you help me baby?” You pout while sitting on the bed, “Pretty please with sprinkles and fairies on top?”

Jae pops his head out with a dramatic little sigh, “Fiinee,” you grin triumphantly, “I’m gonna make you look prettier than any other lady out there today.” He smiles toothlessly and runs into your closet.

You end up wearing a pair of light-washed jeans and your cream colored sweatshirt. Jae didn’t know anything about shoes so you slipped on your cozy socks and a pair of brown tasman slippers. Upon Jae’s insistence you applied a little mascara and clear gloss over your lips, “There, is mommy done now?” You ask while spraying some body spray he was holding out to you.

“Done, you look so pretty.” Jae shyly says while hiding his face in your leg, “Is Miss Danielle coming today? I like her a lot, she’s super cool and nice.”

You hum absent-mindedly while putting your phone and wallet in your purse, “Yes she is, mama needs you to be the bestest boy ever okay? I’ll be back around dinner time when daddy’s coming home okay?” You smile sadly, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Me too,” Jae softly says before the doorbell brings him out of his trance, “I’ll get it, I’ll get it!” He runs off leaving you to your devices.

“That boy.” You shake your head and slip your watch on. You can hear Jae talking with Danielle down in the foyer as you finish getting ready.

Your phone pings and you immediately know who it is, “Danielle,” you greet while passing the girl in a hurry, “thanks for coming last minute you’re a lifesaver.” You sigh in appreciation, “House is yours and if you’re hungry order some delivery for you and Jae okay? I’ll pay you extra if I take too long. If my husband comes home first then you’re free to go.”

Danielle already has Jae in her arms as she smiles sweetly at you, “No problem, you know I like Jae a lot anyways.” She shrugs, “Have fun.”

“Oh I will.” You bitterly mutter, “Bye my loves.” You blow a kiss to your son at the door and head out. Jungkook’s Mercedes is parked right in front of your house and you done nearly sprint over in fear. Your heart quite literally almost falls out of your ass.

“Are you fucking insane?” You spit while slipping into the car, “Jungkook move, oh you just finally fucking lost it didn’t you? Anyone can see you—my neighbors, my son, the nanny!”

Jungkook laughs quietly and brings you in for a messy smooch, “Calm down, we’re leaving right now.”

“No, right now.” You glare, “Move.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to your lips in obvious hunger, “Give me a kiss.” You look at him in disbelief and he merely shrugs, “What? You heard me.” He’s really not playing around because he doesn’t budge or make a move to shift gears or anything.

You nervously look around the area before leaning over to quickly kiss him, “There.”

“Another one.” He calmly replies despite your whining and the face you make. He’s serious then, you think while curling a hand behind the back of his neck and pulling his face closer to yours.

Your lips meet in a hot kiss, you find yourself putting a little more effort into it than most times he’s kissed you. Jungkook’s a good kisser you won’t lie/deny, if anything you felt shittier for admitting that you enjoyed kisses with him. You gently bite down on his bottom lip in a mix of arousal and curiosity.

Jungkook lets out a quiet groan and leans more into it to deepen the kiss. “No more,” you whisper when you pull away to catch your breath, “I’m serious.” You softly say albeit a bit more gentle and less hostile.

“Okay.” He pulls away and starts the car. His hand comes over to settle on your thigh, fitting so easily like you were made for him.

You slump in your seat and turn your head to watch your home slowly disappear as Jungkook pulls out of the neighborhood. If you look closely though, you won’t miss the awe-struck looking nanny standing there looking from the living room window.

“Are you okay? What are you looking at?” Jae asks.

“Nothing,” Danielle mumbles as she shakes her head, “let’s watch tv yeah?” There’s no way she just caught her boss kissing someone who was obviously not her husband.

“How was your day?” You find yourself looking up from the bowl of chips you’re having when Jicheol suddenly talks to you, “Dani told me you had a last minute meeting with a coworker?” He hums while unbuttoning his dress shirt slowly, “y/n?”

Your focus shifts back onto Jicheol after momentarily spacing out, “It was good,” you mumble and try not to think about earlier when Jungkook was buried balls deep fucking you over the hood of the car, “Had some lunch and then we went for like a nature walk..of some sorts.” You trail off dumbly.

Jicheol raises a brow, “Some sorts..?” He tilts his head with confusion written all over his face.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

“Right there..!”

“Mmmh..yes,”

“Com–coming!”

You freeze mid-chip and peer over at your husband, “Yeah..some sort,” you crack a tiny smile to break the tension, “that’s not important though,” you set the bowl off to the side somewhere, “how was your day?” You smile prettily.

Jicheol (thankfully) takes the bait, he has a smile painted over his handsome face, “Boring, I had a few meetings here and there and then some paperwork to file.” He sighs heavily and falls dramatically on the bed next to you, “You busy tomorrow?” He quietly asks while poking your side.

“Depends,” you softly whisper and lean down to press gentle kisses over his lips, “what are we doing?” You blow against his lips gently, cracking a smile when Jicheol hooks a hand around the back of your neck, “Hm?”

Jicheol doesn’t reply and instead brushes his lips over yours, “C’mere,” he quietly murmurs, “on my lap sweetheart.” You can feel his big hands over the small of your back, he guides you over so that you straddle him.

You bite your lip and watch Jicheol closely, the excitement builds up quickly because something about your husband drove you wild. Jicheol didn’t even have to try to get you in the mood, god bless for fine men like himself. You lean down to attach your lips to his rather eagerly, if you both could just skip the foreplay—

“Babe,” Jicheol pauses when your phone begins to ring loudly. You let out a deep sigh and hesitantly pull away from him looking mildly annoyed. His sharp eyes stay on you while you reach around for your phone and check who it is. “Who’s calling?”

‘Great’ you think while seeing the caller ID, “No one, probably spam.” You say through gritted teeth while turning your phone off ALL the way, “Don’t worry about it,” you mumble while giving him quick pecks, “ ‘s not important baby.” You run your hands along the planes of his chiseled chest and toned stomach.

Jicheol uses his hold on you to switch your positions, you giggle up at him when your head lands on the soft pillows, “What’s so funny, hm.” He buries his face in the side of your neck and sucks marks into your unblemished skin.

Your lips part and you bury your fingers in his hair, “Nothin’,” you lick your lips as you catch your phone from the corner of your eye, “nothing at all.” You say as his lips find yours and the two of you sink into the sheets.

The cold morning air brushes against your cold cheeks fiercely, only fueling your adrenaline to keep jogging despite your lungs begging otherwise. You liked morning jogs a lot, helped clear your mind and get you away from everything for a bit. Besides, the trail you took was local and not many people came out at this hour.

“Ah shit.” You whisper tiredly while pausing in your tracks to pick up your fallen AirPod. You take a minute to inspect it and clean the earbud of any dirt and grime it might’ve got from the floor.

You hear footsteps nearby but you assume it’s another runner (while there weren’t many, it wasn’t rare either). You move off the trail to get out of the way when suddenly the steps stop and a strong pair of arms wraps around your middle. You yell out in surprise and turn your head to see who your attacker is.

“Jungkook..?” You breathlessly ask, “You scared me, what the hell is wrong with you?!” You smack his chest a few times.

Jungkook has this scary look on his face but what’s new? This spoilt brat was always pissy about something so you weren’t phased, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Don’t fuckin’ do that again.” He glares, “You intentionally ignored me for one,” he takes a step forward, “and then two, come to my surprise baby you turned your phone off. The fuck is that about?” He growls.

You shake your head and sigh in disbelief, “Really? You’re crying about me turning my phone off? So what, am I supposed to ask you for permission now? Can’t even let my phone die without you freaking out?”

Jungkook snatches your wrist and tugs you towards him, “Don’t fucking give me that,” he whispers dangerously low, “I’m not a fucking moron like you think I am.”

“Nobody said that.” You tug on your wrist, “Now let me go, someone’s gonna see you and I have to get back home.” Jungkook’s about to answer when he suddenly pauses, staring at something. You frown in confusion and look, “What?” You follow his eyes and you go still.

The marks.

You really done it now. “Jungkook…” You hesitantly meet his eyes and wish you never had. He looks so fucking pissed you don’t know whether to cry or run away.

The fear kicks in and you take a step back from him. Jungkook pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and slowly nods his head, “I see..seems like you were too busy being a little cockslut hangin’ off someone else’s cock. Tell me was it good?” He darkly mumbles, “Did he fuck you better than I did? Did he have your pussy droolin’ and creaming around his cock like you do to mine? He make you scream like I do baby?” He envelops your entire throat in his hand, not gripping but rather just holding you in place.

“I’ll scream.” You whisper shakily.

“Go ahead,” Jungkook laughs in your face, “you do it plenty so I don’t see the difference now.” Your face burns with humiliation and you turn your face away from him, “Oh don’t give me that,” he mock-pouts, “c’mon baby look at me.” He grips your cheeks between his fingers as he squeezes them together and makes your pouty lips form a tiny little peak that he smooches.

“Jungkook please,” you softly whine, “not here, someone’s gonna see.”

“You’re right,” he mumbles while staring at the dark hickeys Jicheol left on you, “I know a better place.” You follow his eyes and look over to see that he’s set his sights on your home. Immediately you turn to protest but Jungkook lifts a finger over your lips, “Ah-ah, just do as I fuckin’ say.”

You’re walking on pins and needles right now, today might just be the day your entire world ends up ruined. You can’t help the way your eyes flicker over to the laundry room, the anxiety claws at your insides and you’re desperate for any escape. After Jungkook had demanded you let him into your home things started piling one after the other.

First it was Jicheol who had decided to come early from work (out of all days you bitterly think), and then you had Danielle over helping with Jae. How the hell are you planning on explaining anything if Jae or Danielle accidentally enter the laundry room and see Jungkook in there? This isn’t a “oh, my mistake” situation, there’s no coming back from this once everything begins to surface.

You shudder just thinking about it, “Danielle–honey, do you mind taking Jae out to the park for a bit? I got a lot on my mind right now and I think I’m gonna just cook dinner or something to get my head out of the clouds. I’d prefer if Jae wasn’t in the house though.”

Danielle stops coloring the page Jae had handed her as she tilts her head up to meet your eyes, “Oh, sure. Do you want me to pack him something or will we be coming back early?” She stands to her feet while dusting off her jeans.

“Pack a few snacks,” you look over at the closed double doors and nervously bite your lip, “actually here, just take this and bring me back the change—or don’t. Just head out before it gets dark.” You say while ushering her and Jae out.

Danielle doesn’t comment on your jittery behavior, she simply waves bye and takes the little boy with her down the street to the local park. Now you just have to find a way to keep Jicheol occupied. “Jicheol? Baby do you mind stopping by the store and bringing me a few things?” You loudly call out.

Jungkook’s long made himself at home in your kitchen, he waves his hand with a teasing smirk on his face. “Fuck you,” you mouth while passing the kitchen to head upstairs where Jicheol was probably at, “Jicheol baby can you run to the store?” You sound out of breath by the time you reach the top, Jicheol’s standing in the doorway in his loungewear.

“Sure, you got a list or something?” He hums.

“Uh yeah, I wrote it down but I forgot where I slipped the note. Just go, I’ll send it to you when you’re on your way yeah?” You try to appear as calm as possible but the devil downstairs wouldn’t let you.

Jicheol looks at you weirdly but ends up nodding anyway, “Okay well, you do that.” He slips past you, “I’ll call you if you don’t send the list by the time I get there.” He begins descending downstairs, “By the way, did the neighbors get a new car? I swear I keep seeing that same Mercedes up and down the street.”

You freeze in terror and clench your fists tightly, “..Oh really? I didn’t know either,” you slip downstairs and turn the corner to see Jicheol standing in the kitchen while drinking a glass of water you don’t remember seeing him or anyone for that matter set out.

“Maybe you should get going before it gets late. I kinda need the things for the dinner I’m making.” You nervously smile.

“You tryin’ to get rid of me now?” Jicheol laughs, “So jittery baby, what’s got you all fired up hm?” He tucks you into his arms and rocks side to side, “Did something happen baby?” He softly says in your ear.

“No,” you mumble back, “was planning a surprise.”

Jicheol nods slowly, “Okay, I’ll be back then my love. I can’t wait to see what you got planned.” He winks and parts from you. You close your eyes and wait for Jicheol to leave, you can hear him getting his keys and a few other trinkets of his. Any minute now..

. . .

“Jicheol?” You call out when you don’t hear the front door open or close, “Is everything okay?”

You end up stepping out to go see what was happening, instead you got a fat load of Jungkook carrying your unconscious husband away to the living room, “Jungkook?! What did you do? What the fuck did you do?!” You begin panicking, pacing back and forth throughout the room, “Fucking hell, are you some sort of deranged psycho!”

“Relax,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I drugged him, well been drugging him with the water I left out.” He snickers and tosses Jicheol over the couch, “Fuck he’s heavy,” he cracks his back and rolls his muscles, “baby, baby,” he raises his hand, “you’re stressin’ me the fuck out with all your walking and pacing.”

“Well excuse me, my husband is drugged and passed out in front of me, but sure I’ll keep it down for you Mr Jeon, anything else?”

Jungkook lazily grins, “You can be as loouuud as you want, I’m not complaining.” He raises his hands in surrender, “But you know what, there is something you can do for me.” He purrs low, “Come here.”

Your eyes widen knowingly and you shake your head, “No, fuck no. We can go to the room or anywhere but not here—not in front of him.” You hiss.

“I don’t really give a fuck.” Jungkook tugs you close, “Awake or asleep, I’ll fuck you whenever and however the fuck I want.” His hot breath ghosts over the side of your neck, “I know that deep down—you love this, gettin’ fucked silly in front of your husband, don’t you wanna show him how well you take my cock?” He whispers.

Your eyes slip shut in both arousal and horror, “No.”

“Liar.” Jungkook bites down on your earlobe teasingly, “Explain this,” he suddenly thrusts a hand into your sweatpants. His cold fingers cup you through your panties, heavy palm sitting right under your pulsing heat. “Hm?”

“J-Jungkook, no,” you fight against his grip and squirm around, “listen to me dammit!” You sob in frustration as all the fight begins to slowly leave your body, ending with you melting into a mush of goo.

Jungkook coos softly, “Baby needs a cock in her? Is that it?” He cages you in between him and the coffee table the back of your knees bumps into, “C’mon tell me, you know I like hearing filthy things leave that pretty little mouth.” He tilts you by the chin to face him, “Look at me,” he patiently hums.

Your eyes flutter open to the bleary sight of Jungkook, “Just get it over with,” you blink tears away, “please Jungkook.”

He doesn’t say anything when he slides his lips on yours, his hand cups the side of your face to hold you perfectly still and pliant in his hands. Your face scrunches cutely and you find yourself trying to guide him away from the living room with hands over his abdomen. However a frown makes its way to your face when you notice he doesn’t budge.

“We’re not going anywhere sweetheart,” he calmly says after pulling apart with a string of spit connecting your messy lips, “but you already knew that, why play dumb?” He talks to you like he’s talking to a child.

You make a noise of protest but it dies down when Jungkook begins moving. He guides you over to the armrest of the sofa Jicheol’s passed out on. Your heart slams in your chest violently like it’s about to burst. Jicheol’s sleeping face is centimeters away from yours making it all the more horrifying.

Jungkook steps behind your bent form, he runs his hands over your sides and thighs with a pleased sigh. He slips his hands into your sweats, taking his sweet time in massaging your hips and the swells of your ass cheeks. You end up biting your lip and trying not to squirm away from his unwanted touches.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath when he tugs your sweatpants down and sees the pretty undies you had on under, “well happy fuckin’ birthday to me.” He whistles and runs his palm over the waistband, hooking his fingers in and pulling until the band snapped back in place.

You yelped and jolted from the stinging sensation you felt in your hip, he finally decided to grant some mercy and tugged the panties down your thighs. They dropped around your ankles alongside your sweatpants leaving your cunt out in the open for Jungkook. By now you’re sure some wetness had built up between your sticky dewy folds, they felt moist and drenched.

“Such a little liar,” he smacks your drooling cunt, sending you reeling over the couch with a cry of shock. Your face is dangerously close to Jicheol’s, you catch yourself from letting out another yell when Jungkook spanks you again. The pain sparks a heat inside of you.

“If I woulda known this slutty cunt drips at the thought of being fucked infront of your husband, I would’ve fucked you a long time ago baby.” He chuckles breathily and rubs over your tender pussy. You moan in protest from the “soothing” touch, he has to give you a warning pinch when your squirming becomes tedious, “Behave.”

Jungkook slips his fingers between your folds, parting them in a ‘v’ as he strokes over your entire pussy. A delicious shiver passes over you when his fingers brush over your slippery clit. The touch is enough to make your swollen bud throb with anticipation and need. You bite a whiny moan and let your head hang in slight disappointment. Jungkook isn’t deterred though, he keeps brushing over your clit never quite touching it.

“Drippin’ already.” Jungkook murmurs while burying his face in your neck, “head up baby, want him to see the slutty little faces you make while getting fucked stupid.” He shallowly dips his fingers into your sopping hole with a lewd squelch. “Hear that?” He purrs low, “filthy already.”

Your face grows hot with shame but Jungkook doesn’t stop swirling his fingertip around, he wipes his finger clean in your inner thigh, leaving behind a dollop of slick smeared all over. He shuffles behind you until the head of his weeping cock slides through the mess between your legs. His cock comes poking out through your thighs as he slips himself between your squishy wet folds.

He slowly rolls his hips and lets his cock slide over your mound again and again. The underside of his shaft rubs against your clit giving it the much needed friction you were craving. “Mmh,” your thighs squeeze together and you push your hips back, plush ass meeting his pelvis with a messy smack.

“Needy little thing,” Jungkook muses and steers you forward with a hand over your back, “gonna fuck it out of you though—he may have married you but this cunt still belongs to me at the end of the day.” He suddenly slams his hips forward, instantly filling you with a loud splat as his balls collide with your folds, “Mine to fuck, mine to breed, mine to claim.” He groans.

Your mouth falls open and you shudder, his cock from this angle somehow makes you feel fuller and more stretched out. Your rim hugs his cunt tightly and you can feel the slight tug on your perineum when he backstrokes. Another lewd “uhn” leaves you when he drives his cock right back in, the tip pokes your cervix but it’s nothing too serious or painful.

“Let me hear you,” Jungkook bites his lower lip and rolls his hips faster, “let your husband hear how you—really—like to get fucked.” He huffs under his breath and brings the hem of his shirt up to his mouth, biting it so he can see his cock disappear into your ruined cunt over and over.

Your ass ripples with every thrust and there’s a low smacking noise, he’s punching more and more moans from your throat. It’s harder to keep them in when he’s rubbing those spots so good. His cock bumps into your g-spot occasionally but Jungkook wants to drag it out so he doesn’t hit it yet. Your pussy clenches around him drawing a hiss from him as his fingertips dig into your hips.

Jungkook slams forward and sends you toppling over the armrest a little with your feet dangling a few inches from the floor. You’re jostled closer to Jicheol and hold back a terrified scream you almost let out. Jungkook’s losing control and the pace is sending you flying towards your husband, one wrong move and you’re going to topple on top of Jicheol.

“J-Jungkook slow down,” you mewl, “ ‘m gonna fall..!” You gasp, he hits your g-spot head on with vigor. When he sees the tremor that wracks your smaller frame he starts pounding into that spot wildly.

Your cries are clear as day, the wet smacking is thundering and the couch rattles loudly over the wooden flooring. You scramble to find a good grip to keep yourself steady while you get the pounding of a lifetime. His vicious thrusts send you forward but his firm grip keeps you speared right on his cock. You chant Jungkook’s name which only spurs him on as he fucks you like a madman.

Jungkook lets the hem of his shirt go and trails a hand up to twist in your hair, “Fuckin’ slut—pussy’s mine ‘n mine only. Let’s leave him a nice little present for when he wakes up baby, yeah? Gonna fuck this slutty pussy on him even with my cum dripping from it? Least you’ll be all loose ‘n wet for him,” he smirks, “you’d like that wouldn’t you? Maybe we should let him join next time, we’ll fuck all your little holes and keep ‘em filled with our cock.”

You shamelessly moan at that and tilt your head back for him without having to be asked. He lets out a pleased moan and leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, “One cock not enough anymore?” He rubs your ass with his other hand and lands a hard slap over it, “Hm?”

“N-No,” you hiccup with teary eyes, “need t-to cum,” you gasp, “soo close..mmh..”

“Cum,” Jungkook whispers, “go on,” he brings a hand down between your sticky thighs and smacks your clit with two fingers.

The sting sends you over the edge with a loud cry spilling from your lips. You shake from the intensity and slump over with a tired moan. Jungkook doesn’t care that you came already because he keeps pumping his cock in and out of your, using your cunt for his pleasure.

He yanks you back like a ragdoll and wraps his hand around your throat tightly, “Next time think twice about lettin’ him mark you,” he growls in your ear, “or else drugging won’t be the thing I do.” He lets you go carelessly and grinds his cock deep, pelvis pressed tightly to your ass.

Your lips part silently in a ‘o’ as you shudder, a mini-orgasm takes you by surprise and you’d rather not think it’s because of what he said just now.. Surely not right? Right..

Jungkook moans softly as your pussy hugs his cock nice and snug. He fills you spurt after spurt with cum, not bothering to pull out right away. In fact he grinds his hips in tiny motions to milk his orgasm out, sighs of relief slipping from his lips. The room feels hot and you’re pretty sure the stench of sweat and sex is pungent in the air.

“Jungkook,” you shakily murmur while pushing back, “c’mon, it’s not funny anymore let me up.” You softly plead while looking back at him with wide glossed over puppy eyes.

Clean-up is a quiet ordeal, Jungkook looks smug when you pass by with shaky legs. He doesn’t miss the chance to smack your ass, to which you fiercely glare at him as you disappear to quickly change. When you emerge in a comfy home outfit you stand in the doorway pointing to the front door.

“Out.” You glare, “Not in my house Jungkook, this is the first and last time we do this. You hear me?” You’re not entirely sure he’s listening but you say it anyway. This was not only risky as hell but stupid too, everything was at stake (even if the adrenaline was crazy).

“Kiss,” Jungkook mumbles with a grin as he finishes slipping his coat back on, “c’mon before I go baby.”

You stare at him unimpressed and walk over to press a gentle kiss over his lips. Of course he wraps his hands around your waist and tugs you closer to him, kissing Jungkook was never a quick ordeal. Nothing was ever quick with him. “Okay,” you push at his chest gently, “enough. My kid and nanny are coming home any minute now, get out.” You huff.

“Yeah, yeah, you weren’t saying that when I fucked your brains out–” His laugh is cut off when he pauses to stare down the hall in amusement, “Looks like we have a audience baby.” He grins.

Your head whips to see Danielle standing in the kitchen doorway, she looks shocked and disturbed. Jae’s nowhere insight but your heart still drops to your ass, “D-Danielle.” You’re going to fucking lose it right now.

She takes a step back and looks at Jungkook with both fear and nervousness, “T-The front door was l-locked so we came through the b-back.”

“Dani–honey wait,” you stretch your hand out to her but she’s already running. You can hear Jae in the pantry loudly asking where the applesauce pouches are at. You look at Jungkook with fear in your eyes, “Jungkook—s-she..s-she knows!” You quiver and hold back a sob.

Jungkook cups your face in his hands, “Don’t cry sweetheart, I’ll fix it yeah?” He hums, “Don’t worry that pretty little head, everything’s gonna be fine.” He kisses your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs, “Smile for me—yeahhh, there you go pretty girl.” He grins, “I’ll handle it.”

Jungkook blows the smoke out from his lips, he crushes the cigarette under his boot and clicks his tongue in annoyance, “Shit,” he mutters and digs around his pocket for his phone, “hello?” He answers with his head tilted back as he watches the tiny snowflakes fall around him.

“Did you handle it?”

“I did,” Jungkook chuckles, “what, not gonna ask if I’m tired? It was a lot of work baby, don’t you think I deserve a present?” His eyes flicker down briefly but he goes back to snow watching.

“...Thank you.”

“Oh you will be thanking me later, but for now I got a lot of things to attend to so I’ll see you around baby. Don’t get too comfy, I was thinking about heading to London just the two of us. I’m sure that pretty brain of yours can come up with somethin’ to tell him, bye baby.” He smirks and hangs up before you can get a word in.

He stands in silence just staring at the lump in front of him. “Poor kid, shit luck and shit life.” He grunts and lights another cigarette, “..Gotta get the cleaners ‘n shit—fuck it’s a mess.” He sighs and dials another number, “Hello?” He loudly says, “Round up the cleaning team—no it’s only one, might be two but for today it’s one. Teen, the baby-sitter.” He nudges his foot against the stiff limbs laying in the snow.

“I’ll triple the payment if you help me eliminate a certain someone..yeah, spring cleaning. Oh, and don’t tell father about this. He’ll be real sad to know it happened..again..”

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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ferrstappen · 1 year

Text

aren't we supposed to surprise you? l Charles Leclerc blurb

pairing: dad!Charles Leclerc x female reader.

you can find more of my version of dad Charles' here <3

summary: you somehow manage to overshadow Charles and Jo's gift.

Charles was an anxious man. Even more so since Josephine was born two years ago.

Yes, people laughed at him but he didn't care, he was going to sprint towards his daughter every time she took a wrong step and fell down, or his system would shut down whenever her lower lip trembled. Charles could communicate with his daughter through her eyes, they told him everything he needed to know in the meantime before she learned how to properly express herself.

They were an unstoppable duo, everybody knew that, but Charles was aware the reason both him and Jo could feel at ease and safe was you, and maybe he didn't remind you enough of that.

His mother and younger brother accompanied him to the various shops around Monaco, Pascale having to fight Charles to let her carry the stroll on the street, Arthur shaking his head at Charles' antics, playfully pitying his niece.

"I am going to make sure to take her to the worst tattoo parlors and pubs when she's older and then I'm showing you the images so you can die of a heart attack," Arthur teased his brother, earning a glare from Charles while being chastised by his mother, but the youngest Leclerc saw a smile on his mom's face.

Arthur winked at his niece and she giggled. Lorenzo had no chance of ever being the favorite uncle.

They entered different shops, not wanting to go for the typical jewelry and overly expensive designer clothing and accessories. No, Charles wanted to give you something you'd truly appreciate, something for you to relax and show yourself some love and distraction. Now it was turn for Arthur to carry Josephine while teasing his brother for being a simp.

A couple of books he thought you'd enjoy, different colored bath bombs, luxurious soaps and candles were some of the goods you were going to receive for Mother's Day.

Dad and baby Leclerc arrived got home greeted by the smell of coffee and some kind of pastry. It smelled like Charles' dream life; his life.

You smiled at Charles and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking Josephine from his arms, your daughter babbling about papa and maman.

It was past midnight, Josephine sound asleep on her room after both you and Charles read her a short book in Italian, trying to accustom her to the language, all while you marveled at how Charles did the different voices and intonations.

Now it was just you and him in bed, his naked chest against your own skin, while his familiar hand found its place on your thigh, drawing shapeless figures, enjoying the peace of having you with him.

"I have to tell you something," You made sure to not make eye contact with Charles, hiding your face against his neck.

Charles chuckled with your reaction, "What is it and why are you hiding, bebé?" He tried to get you to face him.

"I know this wasn't planned or anything," you began talking but know Charles felt tears on his chest, it got him worried and helped you sit on the bed while assuring you whatever it was, you'd be able to find a solution.

"Babe, I'm two months pregnant," you announced and Charles placed his hand on his mouth in astonishment.

"No, in Bahrein?" Charles blurted out and a smile appeared on your face, of course that would be his first reaction as his brain processed the news.

You didn't know what you were expecting, maybe it was a problem because Josephine was still too young, maybe Charles didn't want another baby, you never really discussed it after Jo was born, but even in the dark his glossy green eyes were shining as his hand found its known place on your neck, his thumb softly caressing your cheek before lovingly kissing you.

those one of a kind kisses, the ones that were special and held so many emotions. neither of you could hide the smile appearing, only smiling at each other, Charles still caressing your cheek.

but suddenly he dropped his hand to your thigh, an unreadable expression on his face.

"But it's mother day and you're surprising me? No, I have this whole thing planned!" Charles protested and this made your eyes tear up, now it was your time to find his lips.

God, maybe it was time for a boy to mimic his dad.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #dad!charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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enviedear · 6 months

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omg maybe some fluff/angst abt billy being protective. like maybe gf/wife!reader is getting hit on and she can normally protect herself but maybe some guy gets a little too handsy with her and then billy steps in to protect his baby:(( i think i would actually die

protective!billy bonney...

babe i'm always down for protective!billy, because he's just intrinsically protective. and that's hot.

tw— violence, a bullet graze (not billy or reader), men being mysogonistic (this is the wild west idk what to tell ya), unwanted touch (on the waist, no private areas)

request

it'd been a long day already, and the sun hadn't even struck noon. rowdy ranch hands, drunkards, and gang members littered the town square. their minds hazy from drink, worsened by the hot sun.

it was a day of celebration, according to them. the lot of them managed to wrangle up a pack of wild coyotes the night before, the same pack that'd been laying waste to everyone's animals and supplies.

it was a gruesome yet necessary job, but the parlay in town has your ears steaming. they've already ruined an innocent game of catch the local kids had been playing and you roll your eyes when they start to approach you and the rest of the ladies standing outside the dress shop.

you avert your gaze, looking into the crowd for your fiancee. with no sight of billy, who's probably held up at the general store, you focus in on your dusty boots. you'd rather stare at them than the haughty men on their rampage.

"ain't you billy's little thing?" a gruff voice calls out.

you lift your head to find a impish man with tufts of blonde hair, "yes sir, that'd be me." your tone is kind, but your words clipped.

the man draws closer, spitting to his left before giving you a drunken snd sly smirk, "got himself a pretty one, ain't he?"

his question is redundant, and you opt not to answer. instead you give him a smile, slowly backing away and inching toward the entrance of the shop.

the women around you won't be any help, too worried with fending off the other rambunctious men. you're going to have to get yourself out of this one.

the man continues his pursuit of you, "gimme your name, girl. m'bettin' it's real nice."

your fingers find the doorknob behind you but your eyes widen when the door refuses to budge. damn shopkeeper, locking up when you need a safe haven most.

"i'm sorry, sir, my fiancee must be looking for me." your excuse is lame, but you pray it works.

the man steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. you flinch away, but he manages to grip you tightly anyway.

"come on now, don't be shy," he slurs, pulling you towards him. "what's your name, pretty thing?"

you struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. panic sets in as you realize there's no one around to help you, and you start to fear the worst.

"you need to let go o'me. my fiancee will kill you." you've grown desperate, enough so to lay your strongest card on the table— billy.

the man let out a hearty laugh, "fiancee? ain't no man gonna tie you down, little lady. not till you've had a taste of a real man."

you grow angrier by the second, but you can't help but laugh at his ignorance, "i think that's you giving yourself too much credit, sir," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "i' got myself a real man, the man i love. now if you don't let me go, you'll be sorry."

the man grows more forceful, pinning you to him, breath brushing your ear and hands groping your waist, "do you well to learn to shut you mouth, girl."

but just as you're about to give up hope, frozen in fear as the man trails his hands over you, a gunshot rings out, piercing the air like a sharp knife.

the man releases you, his face contorting in pain as he clutches at his leg. you inspect the wound as he falls away, just a graze, but you're sure it hurts like hell.

you turn away from the drunk, eyes finiding billy only yards away, his revolver still smoking in his hand. his face is cold and hard, his eyes blazing with anger.

"you heard the lady," billy speaks with a low and menacing voice. "i don't want to kill you, but if i so much as see you touch her again, you'll regret it."

the other men back away, pulling their injured friend with them, fear written all over their faces. they know better than to mess with billy, especially when he's in a foul mood.

you rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck. his embrace is tight and fierce, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks down at you.

you nod, voice shakey, "i am now," you whisper, feeling safe in his arms.

together, you walk away from the chaos of the town square, grateful for the love and protection you've found in each other.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

#billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid #billy bonney #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid 2022 #coriolanus x reader #corio x reader #coryo x reader

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hellishjoel · 7 months

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ride

7.2k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: Joel whisks you away to Houston for the weekend under the guise of a work trip. You keep a secret from him to try and keep your fling undetected from your parents. warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (shower sex hehe), a little overstim if you squint

A/N: sorry not sorry this chapter took a month+, but I hope you like it! A little drammaaaa. and a reminder, they still have all day saturday and sunday together ;)

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You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-” “Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles. You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat. “There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,”

June 23rd 7:48 P.M.

I’ve had some time to think about Joel, and how much I like to think about him, and how things aren’t an accident.

Thinking about how unlikely it is that we sparked.

How Joel could have turned left, and I could have turned right. But we didn’t.

Instead of running away, I said yes, and so did he.

The impossibility of us seems so incredible, almost unbelievable.

I love that so many things had to happen for us to be where we are right now.

I saw the sun melt his eyes into amber, and he liked the way I smiled in the moonlight.

This feeling was radical, unnerving, scary.

I didn’t know why it was called falling or crashing into love. Perhaps I do now.

“You could sit there and read all day, huh?” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he starts to guide his truck off the freeway, passing a large aluminum Welcome to Houston! sign lit up by the truck’s headlights.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, cheeks squished from smiling as his hand settles on your upper thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles on your sweet skin.

“I’m not reading anymore. Got too dark.” He’s referring to the novel you brought for the trip from your to-be-read pile that you started when you first got on the road.

The drive from Austin to Houston was two-and-a-half hours long, so you decided to saddle the passenger seat with different activities and snacks to keep yourself busy and out of Joel’s hair, much to his behest. He said he enjoyed letting you ramble on about whatever you were thinking about; said it was like listening to a podcast.

“But I am writing.” You hum quietly, penning in your last thought before it gets lost in the black of night.

“What’cha writin’, then?” Joel's curious eyes wander to the nest you had made for yourself in the passenger seat as he tilts his chin up to try and read beyond your journal cover.

You snap it closed and slip the pen in somewhere between the pages. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man.” Your tone is teasing, making you grin even more as he grumbles in annoyance under his breath as the truck slowly approaches a stop light.

Once off the freeway and down to the local roads, you roll the window down. You watch the moon start to rise in the sky, feeling goosebumps grow on your arms and exposed legs while the wind lazily flows through your hair. The gentle night breeze is welcome to air out Joel’s stuffy truck.

You were supposed to be his navigator once he got off the freeway, but you were a bit preoccupied looking around yourself.

You and Joel left Friday evening as soon as he was done with work, and now you were lightly coasting the streets of Houston as the sun finished setting. You could see the diverse architecture of downtown, the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises were all crowded together. As you moved further into midtown, Joel drove past small businesses and parks. You let your hand float out the window, surfing the wind like a wave.

“Hey, space cadet, if you’re not gonna give me the directions to the motel, the least you can do is toss me a french fry.”

Your head cocks back to him, curiously smiling as you reach your hand aimlessly into the fast food bag, retrieving a fry and bringing it up to his lips. You settled on McDonald’s before you left Danbury, partially because Joel felt like being a little cheap, and you agreed they had the best, saltiest french fries.

You feed it to him, and he teasingly sucks the salt off your fingers.

“Gross, Joel.”

He sneers as he watches you wipe your hands on your thighs to rid yourself of his saliva. “You like it.”

He’s not wrong. You force yourself to look back out the window again to hide the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

Joel smirks and squeezes your thigh to bring you back to him. When you look over to the handsome man donning his usual green flannel, the wind furles your hair in messy, unkempt streaks.

He hesitates for a moment, but now that you’re no longer preoccupied with reading or writing, he holds your hand. You feel him test the waters, settling for just lightly clasping it in your lap, but it’s not enough for him. His thick fingers and calloused hand meets the heart of your palm as his fingers weave with your own. He lets out a little sigh and settles himself there.

You feel like teasing him. You’re afraid to hold my hand but not to fuck my throat in your woodshed with a party right outside? But then you remember how difficult it was to kiss him. It still felt like a slip-up, you had to admit. Especially if this was supposed to be just a casual relationship. It felt intimate and emotionally charged. But it was just kissing, right? And this was just holding hands.

Your thoughts wrestle around your head a bit. Joel feels it. You’re not sure how he always seems to know what you’re thinking, but he does. His thumb strokes a gentle line up and down the muscle of your thumb, a silent way of saying stop thinking for once. It’s appreciated, the sense of care and thoughtfulness he provided without even speaking a word.

Ever since he took you to that bar, Past Lives, all you could think about was Joel. Joel on repeat. Joel taking you away from the distracted environment of the lakehouse. Joel showing you the map, saying there was more to the world than Texas. Joel kissing you. Joel touching you. Joel fucking you. Joel protecting you. Joel saving you.

As much as you’ve had time to reflect on Joel, you’ve also reflected on your parents. They were hardly bad people, but they didn’t respect your adult choices. You came to tearfully realize that your relationship with them had slowly deteriorated since leaving for university. You grew independent, and that was especially hard for them. Something you had trouble understanding, something Joel didn’t understand either.

You called Joel Thursday night before your trip under the guise of asking if you should pack any specifics, but the conversation ended up landing on his relationship and parenting with Sarah. You told him how you appreciated the way he let Sarah grow and experience things, that it was good for her.

“She’s a tough girl, and I trust’er. Nothin’ much left to say.”

“So, what-” you stumble and scoff over the phone. “My parents don’t trust me? Or think I’m not tough enough to tackle the world?”

“S’not what I’m sayin’, darlin’. I don’t know what’s up with your folks. But you don’t need their approval, you’re an adult. All you need is t’… t’ trust yourself. Sounds fuckin’ cheesy, but it’s true.”

You pause, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as your eyebrows furrow, thinking over his words. “Y’think if I act a little more confident about it, they’ll start believing it too?”

Joel’s chuckle is a little crackle-ey on the line as he wanders around his house talking to you, going in and out of good reception. “Gotta start somewhere, buttercup. At the end of the day, it’s about your happiness, not theirs. Don’t gotta be such a people pleaser all the time.”

Yes, I do, you think.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Sure thing, hon’.”

Dusk on the outskirts of Houston. The houses become few and far between. There’s more green grass and flourished trees. Joel slowly pulls into a small driveway, a large blue neon-lit sign designated that you were at your motel for the weekend. The entire truck is highlighted in a pale blue from the illumination, you nearly have to squint. There were no more than two or three cars parked outside. It was a two-level motel, with an outside staircase to navigate the different floors.

“The Blue Swallow Motel.” Your attention strays to Joel with furrowed brows. “Why here?”

Joel shrugs and navigates himself into a parking spot with ease. “Don’t know. Like blue swallows.”

Curiosity sparks you.

“You like blue swallows? You’ve seen one in person?”

He shakes his head and says nothing for a moment, but it almost looks like he can’t help himself to dispel some information. “They’re native to Africa, only ever seen the North American variants ‘round here.” He lets the engine grumble down once he pulls the key from the ignition, but you’re still awestruck in his passenger seat.

“I’m sorry- Joel Miller Bird Enthusiast?” The eager tone in your voice gives away your excitement, and Joel seems to despise it when you get too excited about him. He has to close his eyes and hang his head, wishing he never said anything.

“Oh, Joel Miller, don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen those bird guides on your bookshelf, you’re a birder.”

His neck swivels, eyes wide and defensive. “I am not a birder.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and eventually, he cracks a smile. “They’re interestin’, okay?”

You playfully pat his shoulder with reassurance, nodding in agreement. The two of you settle down from your fits of laughter and look over the exterior of the motel once more.

“Y’said you wanted somethin’ quaint? Small?”

Being with Joel and having no other distractions was your goal for this weekend. Since this trip was coming out of Joel’s pocket, you insisted you didn’t need some fancy hotel. You’ve traveled to Houston a handful of times before, and the last thing you wanted was for your view outside some high-rise hotel to be Danbury in the distance.

You squeeze his hand once more and nod, stars lighting up behind your eyes. “It’s perfect. Thanks for finding something simple.”

Joel teeters on your appreciation but ultimately ends up shaking his head. “Could’ve gotten something a little nicer for ya, maybe closer to downtown-”

You stop him right there and bring his rough knuckles to your plush lips, adding a kiss to each one. “I said it’s perfect, so it’s perfect. I like it, it’s got charm, chutzpah even. Plus, looks like we’ll have the pool to ourselves.” You hum with a devious little smirk. You hop out of the truck and open the backdoor to grab your things.

“Pool, you say?” He retorts, an eyebrow raised with narrow eyes on you. You lightly shrug as you grab your backpack.

“Might have forgotten my swimsuit, though. Shame.”

You brush past Joel, who is scoffing lightly under his breath in disbelief, duffel bag brushing against his calves as he walks with you towards the motel office. You would be the death of this man.

“Damn shame.” He mutters, a smirk hanging low on his lips.

---

Room 135 was marked on the dark chestnut door, a small white plate with black numbering decked on.

There wasn’t much to be said about the motel room itself. You tried to stifle a laugh when you and Joel both walked in to see two separate queen beds. The sheets were white, but the top cover was an extravagant red pattern that looked like it got lost in the 80s. A side table was resting against the wall towards the headboards with a beige telephone placed on top, resting over a few local restaurant menus. Two small lamps were attached to the wall above the beds, perfectly opposite of the television sat on top of a tall dresser.

“Is this your idea of a romantic getaway?” You teased as you walked further inside over the beige carpet. “Two beds don’t exactly scream romantic.” You set your backpack down on the foot of the bed furthest from the door and closest to the bathroom around the corner. You assume this bed will just be used to hold both of your luggage, not a person.

“No,” Joel said through a tight gruff as he strained to lift his bag of tools and luggage onto the edge of his own bed. “S’a work trip. Not a romantic getaway.”

Your smile falters as you purse your lips and fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“So, this really is a work trip?” You clarify, to which Joel looks at you a bit confused.

“Course it is.”

A light boil simmers through your chest. Maybe you will be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel could sense your flattened mood, and he quickly felt the need to sweep up the pieces of what he broke. He was bad with words, terrible really, but he tried to find the right ones for you.

“I said that wrong. It’s a work trip but,” he trails off and falters as he saddles his hands on his hips for a moment and sighs, your doe eyes looking up to his own. “But I brought you here to spend some real time with ya. Didn’t wanna,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes. A classic Joel Miller sign that he wants to say something a little personally emotional.

“What?” You probe him, a smile tickling your lips as you loop your hands to rest just above the ones on his hips. “You didn’t want to what, Joel?” You ask, setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a goofy grin.

He sighs and rolls his eyes again, having a hard time looking at you. “I didn’t wanna go on this trip alone. Didn’t want to leave you at home when I could bring ya with.”

Joel wasn’t a social man. In fact, if the world went to shit, you think he might really enjoy the solitude. But for him to admit that he would rather have you in his space than out of it, it’s quite endearing.

Now you’re the one who's hiding a blush. You settle your cheek against his chest and sigh, soaking in his scent and his warmth. Joel’s hand comes to rest on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair away from your face as the two of you relax into a gentle hug.

“Were you serious about that no bathin’ suit thing?” He asks after a moment of silence, causing you to roll your eyes and shove him a good distance away.

“As serious as a heart attack.” You sneer as you round the bed to the bathroom, needing desperately to relieve yourself after the drive. Of all colors, it’s a beautiful mint green. Incredibly retro, you think as you use the toilet and stare at the shower absentmindedly. You roll your phone around in your hands once you finish washing them, a lump rising in your throat.

Your mother’s words echoed in your ear.

“If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.”

There was no young man. The young man your mother referred to was really Joel. Panic was spreading through your body just at the thought of trying to fix this situation. They figured out you were seeing someone, they just didn’t quite know who. A few heavy breaths labor out of you, anxiety nestling in your chest.

“You okay, buttercup? Been a minute.” Joel asks cautiously from the opposite side of the door, his knuckles offering a few polite knocks.

Your chest surges. You didn’t want him to know you’d slipped up, half-told your parents the truth. You didn’t want him to end things out of fear of them finding out. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Joel. Just.. gimme a minute.”

His feet don’t move on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to leave you, feeling something slightly wrong.

“Really, Joel, just- checking out the facilities.” God.

He sighs before you hear him back off. “Alright. Lemme know f’you need anythin’.”

You need to act, or else this feeling will eat you alive. Finally, with some accurate cell service, you text the first person you think of. Nathan. Remember that childhood crush of yours? You hadn’t seen him in years, and with how gorgeous he was growing up, there was a scary feeling that you might be texting a man who had a girlfriend. But he was your only hope to cover up the mess you had made.

Growing up with Nathan and his parents being friends with your own always felt like a setup. Your mothers always cooed that you two just might end up marrying one another. At the time, you wished it was true, that all this exposure with him would lead to something romantic. But then you grew up, saw each other a little less over the summers, and grew apart. You still kept in contact via social media, but not often. You saw his life in pictures. One from a homecoming dance, a group picture of him and his friends, an action shot of him playing basketball, a high school graduation picture, and a similar one for college graduation. He was still alive somewhere out there, you just didn’t know him like you used to.

Nathan was always kind, goofy, very golden retriever-like. Summers spent apart created a rift, but he was your childhood best friend and crush once upon a time. If he was willing to help you out, you owed him big time. So you shoot him a text and cross your fingers that this is still his number. The last thing logged in your messages was a silly conversation about cheetahs versus jaguars. You were team cheetahs, obviously.

You felt a slight sense of relief once you came up with a plan. Talk to Nathan. See if he can act as your fake boyfriend for your parents. See if he doesn’t think you’re damn crazy for concealing your forty-something-year-old fuck buddy.

You’re not really sure how to reignite the conversation, it’s been so damn long. You stare at the blank screen before you craft the brilliant message:

A sigh leaves your parted, anxious lips, and you shove your phone away.

---

You really did bring a bathing suit, much to Joel’s eagerness for the rumor to be true. You change into it with your back turned to him. You feel his eyes boring holes into you, sending a small dash of goosebumps up your arms. “I’m going for a dip before bed.” You say as you fiddle with the strings of your bikini top, struggling for a moment before you feel a warm presence step in behind you and fuss away with the strings himself.

You hum softly as he fastens the strings, making a bow at your midback. Joel’s lips brush against your shoulder before they start sponging gentle kisses up your neck. The hair you tied up into a loose bun tickles his nose.

“Such’a pretty girl.” He hums against your skin, a soft shiver trickling up your spine, lips parting in pleasure. “Too bad you’re not a very good girl.” Joel murmured as his hands slipped lower, past your hips, past the curve of your ass, until he was cupping both cheeks in his large palms. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his fingers squeeze at your flesh. A moan escapes your lips, you just can’t help it. You love it when Joel is handsy for you, the needy one.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn in his arms, eagerly kissing him as you cup his cheeks. He fights for control instantly, pulling you in at your hips so your back arches backward out of habit. You let your head dip back, eyes dipping closed as his lips trail down your neck, then between the valley of your breasts, all while his wiry beard creates scratches in his wake.

“Do you have swim trunks?” You ask breathily, shoving him lightly by the top of the head further down your body. He drops to his knees and continues to trail kisses down your stomach.

The question catches him off guard.

“Do I- what?” He asks breathily, looking up at you as he sponges kisses over your clothed center.

“If you don’t have swim trunks,” you try to continue, “you can’t go swimming with me.” You say with a teasing smirk, stepping around Joel, who was awestruck kneeling on the ground, his hands still in place where he was cupping the backs of your thighs before he slaps them down on his own to show annoyance.

He was probably thinking how you just up and disappeared when you were just standing in front of him a moment ago. Joel grumbles something, but you’re already out the door of the motel room.

---

The pool is glowing in its blue hue, lit by dim lights around the perimeter and the silver moon in the sky.

In a world so vast, you couldn’t help but feel a little lost in wanting to explore it.

You take a breath in through your nose and test the water with a dip of your toe. A bit cold for your liking, but the warm Texas summers make your skin sticky and the air a bit stale. So you dive in.

The cool water is a shock to your system at first, with goosebumps growing on your skin like wildfire. Your face breaks the seal of the water, emerging over the light ripples you created upon diving in, catching your breath. You take a few leisurely laps along the outskirts, feeling weightless, free.

“Nice night.” Joel’s brassy voice breaks the gentle chorus of the summer cicadas. You hum as you carve your way through the water until you meet the pool’s edge. You rest your arms on the lip of the pool, bringing your breasts just above the surface of the water.

“Get. In.” You say with an authoritative voice, despite your eager smile.

He cocks his head a few degrees to the right, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. You look like a shivering chihuahua.”

His joke elicits a giggle from you.

“It’s only cold for the first few minutes. You’ll warm up.” You’re only half-lying, the pool was so fucking cold.

Joel merely shakes his head. “You’re crazy, buttercup.”

You hum as you push off the edge of the pool, moving towards the center, letting the water dance around you as your arms glide back and forth to keep you afloat.

“Sounds like you need some motivation.” Your eyes lock on Joel’s as your fingers navigate to the back of your bikini strings, slowly pulling the tie loose, feeling the water aid you in floating the material off your upper half. The top strings around your neck are still tied, concealing the full reveal of your breasts.

Joel’s once secure face fizzled, eyes straying and lips parting. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he kneels down, pointer finger curling towards him impatiently. “Get over here.”

You shake your head disobediently. “Now.” His barking urgency makes you stifle a smirk.

“Joel Miller afraid of a little cold water.” You shrug and move your fingers to the strings tied behind your neck, slowly tugging loose the threads. The material falls limp into the water, floating in front of you free from your body.

Joel watches with impatience, the spill of your breasts making his cock twitch inside his swim trunks. The mesh material was forgiving, allowing him to swell at the sight of you. The cold water has your nipples taut, drawn into sweet peaks. You’re just out of his fucking reach, too far into the pool for him to grab you.

He grunts quietly, jaw tight as you slowly swim closer to him. You shiver at his glance alone.

“If you want me,” your voice drops innocently, doe eyes making their appearance to reel him in, “you’ll get in the pool, Mr. Miller.”

Just out of his reach once more, you swim back to the center and push your thumbs into the band of your bikini bottoms, down your legs, leaving you bare in the pool for anyone to see from the highway or their own motel rooms. You must admit, Joel’s desperate gaze filled with want makes you squirm with excitement. Disobeying him lights that explosive even more.

He offers you his hand, one final offer. “Last chance, angel, get out of the pool.”

“Why do you even have swim trunks on if you aren’t going to get in?” You ask, eyes gazing over the tangled hair he has scattered across his chest.

“I was hoping these would appease you alone. Now come here,” he juts his hand out as an offering one last time.

You roll your eyes and swim closer, your breasts lapping in the water as you take Joel’s hand. And tug with all your strength.

His feet skid to try and hold him back, but he ultimately summersaults into the pool. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to conceal your laughs as Joel emerges, sopping wet, cold, angry.

“Y-You-” He chatters his teeth, eyes screwed tight on you as he pushes his hand back through his soaked curls and down his face, grazing his wiry beard. “You’re gonna get it.”

Joel’s threat makes you squeal. You attempt to doggy paddle away, but the grip he catches on your arm is iron. He pulls you back to him, and your body glides through the water, arms securing on his biceps once you’re locked in his hold. He’s threatening, but not as much so when you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his half-hard length.

You raise your eyebrow at him, and he half-chuckles.

“Such a fuckin’ piece of work you are.” He grunts out, hands searing the flesh of your hips as he skirts his hand down lower, cupping the globes of your ass.

A hum tickles your throat as you lean in and press your lips to his jawline in a tempting kiss, smiling as Joel’s nose playfully nudges yours, leaning in for more.

It’s stomach-twisting how you feel so comfortable with Joel, how you sink into his body, and how he warms your core. You kiss him until your lips feel bruised, and he grips your beautiful curves with eagerness. The two of you kiss like hungry teenagers, finally outside the watchful eyeline of your parents. Joel’s cock is hardening against your naked core.

He forces himself off of you, groaning lightly as he strays from your eyes. Cupping his jawline, you angle him back to you, resting your foreheads together.

“Makin’ me get all riled up like a damn teenager.” His warm breath puffs across your face, his words make your bundle of nerves tingle.

“I like that I’m the one causing it.”

Joel chews at the inside of his cheek before giving you a tight little nod. “Me too, buttercup.”

---

Joel decides pool play is over. He gets out first, snags your bikini pieces that floated to the edge of the pool and starts walking leisurely back into the motel room.

He only hears your cursing and belligerent rambling after he returns from turning on the shower, piping hot.

“Can’t hear ya when you’re chatterin’ your teeth.”

Joel returns to the bathroom and strips his swim trunks off, still half-hard. He tests the water with his hand, giving you an affirming nod it was okay to step in.

You’re still angry and seething, having to streak your way back to the room naked and freezing your bare ass off. He looks at your crossed arms and playfully tuts. “You’re the one that thought t’drag me in there with ya, princess.”

Joel follows you into the shower, the water splashing searing hot droplets. It only feels that hot because you’re readjusting from the pool’s temperature. You find yourself huddling into Joel’s warmth.

He finds it endearing, the way your head settles on his chest, your ear to his heart, too chilled to let him go. He angles the showerhead downwards, letting it focus on your body first. He could wait.

You gently release your crossed arms, letting them wrap low around his hips. He had a few extra pounds of flesh low on his tummy and on the sides of his waist. You gently pinch the area and smile.

“Stop that.” He hisses, eyebrows knitted together.

“But I like it. You’re my favorite person to hug.”

The sentiment splashed warmth on the back of his neck. Joel has picked up a few extra pounds from town barbeques, and beers tossed back during football games. He used to not like it, the way he had to loosen his belt after a big meal, or having to purchase his new t-shirts in a size up. He didn’t think about it much, but naked with you in the shower, feeling you admire his ever-changing body, was a comfort.

You look up after a few moments of silence, setting your chin on his chest and feeling his chest hair graze against your skin.

Joel wants to warm you up, get you to relax under the showerhead. He presses a nimble kiss to your lips, pitter-pattering kisses along the extent of your body before he is down on his knees, angling your back to rest against the shower wall.

Tired after your car ride and melting under the shower’s sprinkling water, you ache for a relief that will come from your head hitting a pillow. But Joel had other things in mind, things that would make you forget you were tired in an instant.

Now under his watchful eye, lips and wiry beard scratching at your soft skin, you lightly part your legs for his entrance. God, please don’t let me slip and embarrass myself right now. Let me have this one good thing, this man’s tongue against my pussy would make me a God-willing woman.

Joel can feel your exhausted body, begging to find a bed. But he had you where he wanted you, and his mouth was watering to taste your sweet musky arousal. His hands settle themselves on the backs of your thighs, supporting your weight as his head leans into your warmth.

He brings two fingers forward, parting your center, licking a slow draw up your core. His tongue flicks off your clit, your bundle of nerves twitches. Something flips in his stomach, and his cock grows heavy against his thigh.

You taste sweet and serene, something he’s grown an appetite for. With several days apart awaiting your weekend trip away, he often found himself at night, spilling into his hand thinking about your young, beautiful pussy flushed against his mouth. He takes this opportunity to relish in you moaning his name, without any curious ears.

His tongue sinks lower, swirling around your tense entrance. The swell of his tongue gushes more arousal from you, and he gets a proper taste that isn’t mixed with water from the shower.

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, and he laps at your clit like a famished man.

The constant flicks have you gasping for air in the all-too-warm shower. Your fingers weave into his soaking wet curls, still finding a grip as your thigh twitches against his hand.

Joel’s two fingers parting your center gently massage at your entrance, wiggling in gently as he suckles on your clit, and you mewl weakly.

His tongue and teeth lightly graze your sensitivity, feeling stars clouding your vision as his fingers set a gentle pace.

“Ooh,” you sigh weakly, feeling his fingers hit the perfect spot, one that makes you shake.

Joel knows that sound, knows the feeling. He looks up, admires the way your pretty lips are parted in bliss. The hand on your thigh is brought to your stomach, gently stroking over the flesh.

You watch him a little curiously, a little fucked. His mouth returns to your clit, but his hand still falters on your lower abdomen. You whimper as he adds a little pressure, and quickens his fingers. It’s jaw-dropping, the friction and pressure, piling on top of each other.

You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-”

“Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles.

You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat.

“There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,” he grunts, jaw tight, and teeth clenched as he watches your cum-arousal mixture glide down his fingers in a sticky mess. He slowly stands, watching you pant for air, as he sucks his digits clean with an evil smirk.

The temperature in here is too much, heat consumes your body as you weakly grip his biceps.

“God damn, Mr. Miller.” You say breathlessly. You take him in a quick kiss, moaning weakly into his mouth at your taste. His tongue tangles with you, and he keeps his fingers on your core. His first two fingers start to slowly circle your clit again, but it’s entirely too soon.

You whimper weakly into his mouth, your clit aching and still recovering from your oral orgasm.

“Mmm- can’t do it, Joel.”

Joel snarls as he swiftly turns you around, his foot hitting the insides of both of your ankles to spread your legs. Your face is plastered against the shower wall, watching him out of the corner of your eye with your jaw dropped.

“Be good for me, baby girl, show how thankful you are.”

You whine at his raspy voice, feeling its timbre bounce against the walls.

“Please,” you beg in a whisper, inching your feet farther apart for him to take you in the shower.

Joel strokes his cock, seething through his teeth at the desperate relief he’s feeling. His swollen tip vies for your attention. He lines himself up, his other hand on your hip as he notches himself inside.

You visibly flinch away, Joel hushing you softly as he tries again.

“Gotta relax for me, pretty girl.”

You sigh weakly and let yourself melt with the warm water, fluttering your eyes closed as you gently jut your hips back into this, needing to be filled.

Joel tries again after lining his tip up and down your slit and gathering your arousal. He notches inside of you once more, causing your eyelashes to flutter. He slowly presses on.

The drinks must have really loosened you up since the last time the two of you fooled around in his truck. He wasn’t so hard to take then, but now he feels thicker, rounder. You could feel the thick vein on the underside of his cock as he ruts his hips into your ass.

Finally, you will yourself to breathe, moaning his name in desperation.

Joel’s trying to contract his lungs, but you’re gripping onto him so tight, the heat of the shower going to his head.

You hum and purposely grip your walls around him, squeezing for his last breath.

Joel snarls and smacks your ass from below, watching the fatty flesh jiggle. It stings, but you like it, thinking about his large handprint marking you red. He winds his hips back up and presses in, groaning lowly as he fills you to the brim.

He sets a decent pace, one that robs you of what air you have left in your lungs. Your entire body feels sensitive, your cheek growing sore from being fucked against the shower wall. But it feels entirely too good, a certain itch that only Joel Miller can scratch.

Every thrust he makes, you moan his name like a broken record. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you moan and grunt it so much, that it starts to sound like it’s not a real word anymore.

You reach back an arm blindly, gripping his bicep and stitching your nails into his skin.

Joel grunts out weakly, the burning sensation you caused on his arm making him go wild. He reaches for both of your wrists and plants them at the base of your back, forcing your face to be your only weight to keep you up against the shower.

But it unlocks a new angle, one that has you crying out curses and his heavenly name.

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck- fuck your favorite little pussy,” you mewl out, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

“God dammit, fuck me good like that, like that,” your eyes clench close, panting heavily. “Right there, daddy, please, Mr. Miller, touch my clit, please,” you beg, the pet name rolling off your tongue.

It makes him snarl. He sets a hellish pace. His chest puffs up, his broad biceps locking around you as his fingers stroke over your pussy.

He loves the way you wind him up. Because you are his favorite young pussy, one he’s made his own, railing you so good that you forget about anyone else that may have had you before.

All you know is Joel Miller.

His thighs and lower tummy smack your ass cheeks, a distinct slapping sound filling the shower and pinging off the walls right back into your ears.

Stars flutter behind your eyes, you feel light-headed. The water splashes warm across your back, allowing Joel even more slip.

The harder he fucks you, the closer he moves in. Now he has his entire torso flushed against your back, flicking his hips up into you with precision.

Suddenly he’s grabbing your leg by the underside of your knee, hiking it up, and planting it against the shower wall as he exposes a whole new sensation.

You can’t last any longer. His fingers circle dangerously around your clit, and now he’s pounding you into the wall, forcing friction against his glorious thrusts. You whimper loudly as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, feeling your walls clench around him as you come.

It’s jaw-dropping, heart-surging, mind-fucking how good he feels coming inside of you. It’s warm, warmer than the water still raining over you. It’s comforting the way his seed spreads throughout your core, his grunts filling the shower as he drops his last load inside of you.

And goddamn, he loves how you milk him dry.

You weakly slide down the wall, tiredly dropping your leg once he pulls out.

“No ya’don’t.” Joel quickly says, snagging a strong arm around your waist and hauling you up. You whimper as he peels your face off the wall, blinking rapidly as he spins you to face him. “C’mere.” Joel embraces you, and you lean weakly into his front like a bear hug.

“Water,” you whisper against his pec. He turns the shower temperature down, a more comforting heat surrounding you now.

“You’re alright.” He assures.

After time to recuperate, Joel reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a small amount into his palm and lathering it between his hands. You feel a little better standing, but you still stay wrapped up in his arms, in his hug.

He massages the shampoo into your locks, gently massaging it against your scalp, before he gently washes the bubbles out. He gathers conditioner next, letting it soak into your ends.

You hide your smile against his chest, knowing that he probably had to learn this type of stuff for Sarah. Hair care, skin care, tampons and pads, all the sort of stuff single dads fear. You wonder whatever could have been in Sarah’s mother’s mind to leave a guy like Joel Miller. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to fit into your life like a glove right now. For however long that perfect fit would be.

A weak sigh leaves your lips as he strokes your head sweetly, his fingers then grazing your cheek.

“Y’alright? Feel good?”

You nod weakly and smile, letting your arms drop gently as you pull away. “M’tired.”

Joel stifles a chuckle and nods. “Me too, baby. Sit tight.”

Once Joel is assured you’re not going to lose your strength standing up on your own, he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel low on his waist. You gaze at the lines around his hips, and how they dip down into his towel.

You clear your throat as you quickly look away once he approaches you with two towels. He wraps one around your shoulders, gently moving his warm hands up and down the sides of your arms.

You look so sweet, warm and cozy, cum-filled, at ease. The stress he usually sees you carrying around is wiped away. He hoped he had something to do with it.

Joel leans down and presses a light kiss to your lips. Not hungry, not desperate, not chasing. Delicate. Assuring.

You smile tiredly and shyly evade his eye contact, something that he hates to admit is goddamn adorable on you.

Both of you towel dry off any remaining droplets of water. Joel forces you to show him how you even get the towel you wrap around your hair on your head.

“This is girlhood, Joel Miller.” You say once you secure it on, watching him shake his head in disbelief.

“A mystery to me.” He says with a boyish grin.

You both exit the steamy bathroom and search your bags for pajamas. You packed a few comfy shirts for bed. And only one extra pair of panties. You better be damn careful with your one last sacred pair. You toss it back into your pack for now, deciding that they would probably be taken off in the morning anyway. You slip under the covers of Joel’s bed, saving him a space you hope he fills. Of course, he does.

Joel flips off the light switch, indulging the room in a black and blue hue. He grunts quietly as he slips into the covers. The both of you just melt into the mattress.

You nuzzle into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He makes gentle circles into your back as your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You sigh and turn your back to Joel to retrieve it from the charger.

“Your parents askin’ if we made it okay?” Joel murmurs tiredly, eyes closed, waiting for you to return to his side.

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s a text message from Nathan.

Hey stranger

“Yeah,” you lie, your fingers gliding across the keyboard to configure a response. “They uh.. They’re tellin’ me to not bug you too much on the trip.” You awkwardly chuckle, your back still turned to him as you stare at Nathan’s message.

Joel dryly chuckles as he reaches a hand out and settles it on your hip. “Quite the opposite.”

You feel terrible concealing this from Joel. But you don’t want him to think you were young and foolish letting your secret fling slip. This was to make things work, to keep the secret buried from your parents.

Another message from Nathan makes your phone buzz in your hand.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up?

Your heart sits in your throat, shocked by his ask.

You flip over your phone, opting to reply in the morning. You’re beat. You sigh weakly and return to Joel’s side, hiding your face in his shoulder as you gently kiss along the muscle. He was already passed out.

As messy as this felt, being with Joel felt like being tossed a life jacket in open water. And you weren’t going to lose that safety, not if you could help it.

---

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

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kazbrekkerscrutches · 1 year

Text

Xavier Thorpe - Take my hands

Warnings: Mention of burial, dark humor(like at one place), overall fluff, scratches

Words: 1.8k

GN PRONOUNS

Trope/Context: Reader is antisocial, not related to Wednesday Addams, but is the MC (storyline modified), Childhood friends to lovers <3, slowburn (A/N: One of my favorite tropes lmao, enjoy!)

Black settled into my room. Not the usual morning sunshine.

Rain and clouds.

Ever since I got to this school, nature has been turning darker and darker everyday. My own room, shared with dear Enid feels even more hollow than usual.

“You have to wake up, Y/N!”

“Yes Enid, you could wake up the dead with that perfume you spray on everyday.” I replied snarky.

“Rude.” I watched her get out of the room after I took off the covers from me.

I liked her, maybe it was a secret to anyone in my life, but I do like her. She is nice. Probably the nicest person you could ever meet that doesn’t kill people for fun.

My visions have been more intense recently. Anything I touch makes me afraid that I will discover something about it. It is scary; that pleasant feeling of being touched by a live wire, but not every minute of everyday.

For some obscure reason, I could not get a certain person out of my head.

Not Enid, you may ask, but a certain seer.

Xavier.

It is not for the usual teenage gossip type of thinking. He is my prime suspect as of whom the beast may be. The Hyde. The hidden Jekyll.

Everything about his behaviour, timing, thinking seems to fit so perfectly. Too perfectly.

“Thing. Please write something to you know who. Don’t make it cheesy. Make it brief.”

I turned my head to look at Thing only to ear a thumbs up from him. Well, that may be good enough to talk to a hand.

As I walked to go to class, that darkness felt even more closer. Like it was following me from behind my back. It felt like a tick was tickling my brain, to try and tell me something.

I arrived in class, only to find Xavier sketching something in his book. I approached silently only to find him adding shading to a cello.

My cello.

My instrument.

My brain cannot deal with this right now.

“Hi Y/N, always a pleasure seeing you around.” Xavier turned around, offering me a warm smile. That turned something in a stomach. Good? Bad? Weird?

I’ll take weird.

“Felt inspired by my serenade?” I offered him my signature glare, looking over his shoulder to see his drawing.

“Truly inspiring.” He turned back to his drawing, leaving me behind him.

Those scratches on his neck, so curious. No wonder he is my primary subject.

“Stop glaring and sit down. I don’t bite.” He whispered. I snapped out of my mind, sat down besides him.

“I do like biting.” He looked up from his drawing, my Y/E/C eyes. His beautiful green eyes. He smirked a little bit before Ms. Thornhill started her class.

I don’t know what I was supposed to feel. How I was supposed to feel. Yes, he is my prime suspect but he saved me from Rowan. He was always somewhere, lurking in the shadows. My shadow not longer felt like one.

[Flashback]

“Help! Please someone help!” I heard screams coming from the casket. Hell, did that boy’s godmother come back from hell?

That thing did not sound like a women. More like a boy. I moved around the purgatory only to find a big red button with STOP on it.

“Ridiculous.” I pressed on it; the coffin stopped its way into the pit of fire. I opened the coffin only to find the boy. We were supposed to play hide and seek.

“What are you doing in here? This isn’t a place to hide” Xavier looked up at me with weary eyes.

“I thought it was original. Thank you though.” He got out of the coffin, still towering me with his height.

“You lost.” A smirk appeared on my face and we both walked away to back out there.

[Present, time skip]

I was wondering where Xavier had run to. He always abandons me for some random artistic calling of his. Thing appeared before me, updating me with some desperate news.

He handed me the note I had mention to give to Xavier.

Awn, Y/N Y/L/N has feelings for me.

Cute, though I know Thing wrote that.

Meet me in the cabin. 9 p.m.

Xavier

Weirdly, I felt my heart beat way faster than it normally should. I feel ill, not in a pleasant way, terrible ill way.

“I will end you, Thing.” He apologized immensely before pointing to something around the place.

He pointed the note, which looked like it was covered in some kind of dust. I did not look like dry paint or led dust. Ashes. How thoughtful.

He must know that I am suspicious of him; that I think he is the Hyde.

The darkness settled again, as if it was telling me that I was wrong; that my track was far from where I was headed. I pushed it away, snapped a glace at my clock only to find the time running fast. 8:51 p.m.

I have to go. Hopefully I make it out alive, and sane.

[Xavier’s art studio]

I knocked two times.

I’m hilarious, I’m aware.

“My favorite dead body has arrived!” He almost screamed as he opened the door.

He was wearing a red shirt, hair still damp and sweatpants low on his hips. As much as I hated to admit it, he had some sort of effect on me. I suddenly felt hot, uncomfortable in my own skin. I almost felt a smile creep up on my face.

“Tad bit dramatic.” I snarked, passing through him and the door. “I hope those weren’t you godmother’s ashes you sent.” His clean and fresh scent filled my head. Comforting.

He turned to me, closing the door behind him. He leaned on the door frame, crossed his thin long arms around his chest.

“Maybe, maybe not.” He looked at me dead in the eye. “What did you want to talk about?” The paintings surrounding me were dark and were all filled with the Hyde’s face. I had never actually been in here before but he caught me trying to get in.

“What is it of the Hyde that captivates you so, Xavier?” I turned around every wall to have a better look at his artistry.

“I keep having dreams about it. The only way I can get it out is by drawing it, even if it ends up with me getting scratched by my own drawing.” I snapped around to look at him rubbing his neck. There were three long scratches along it. I had noticed.

“Do they hurt?” Is a question I never thought I would’ve asked in my entire life. He tilted his head, approached me softly. He towered me even more than I would’ve thought.

He bent down to whisper in my ear. “Why aren’t you asking if I did this to myself?” He bent a little; looking at me dead in the eye.

“You have no reason to do this to yourself. I know you.” His gaze softened.

“You don’t think I’m the Hyde, then?” Shoot. He figured it out.

He stayed right where he was and I did not give him the satisfaction of fear or yet defeat in my eyes.

“Prove me you're not the Hyde, Xavier. Tell me I’m wrong.” I almost pleated, blinking endlessly.

“How can I prove this to you, Y/N? You are stubborn yet so deep into your theories.”

“Where were you when Eugene was attacked? If you tell me, you were here, and not wondering in the middle of the forest, I will believe you and drop this.” I sighted. “Please, tell me you weren’t out there.”

He stared almost blankly into my eyes. He stood up straight, passed his hands into his long hair and turned back to face me. “Take my hands, seek your answers.”

I could tell he was disappointed that I had asked him that. I dropped my bag on the floor, approaching him as slowly as he was.

His touch felt comforting and warm against my feverish skin. My head pulled back as I felt myself going under.

…

I woke up only to find Xavier hold me in his lap, passing his fingers in my hair softly, still holding one of my hands with his.

“Did you get your answers?” I nodded, proving to myself that he was not the Hyde.

“I’m… I’m sorry I doubted you. I shouldn’t have. You were the only person loyal to me, maybe except Thing.” I sat up from his lap, looking at him, both of us sitting on the floor of his Art space.

“Don’t be. We aren’t ten anymore. You know I’m innocent and I would’ve never, on my godmother’s grave have hurt all of those people and I think you may know that better than anyone.” Thunder roared behind us, I still felt his hand on mine but I did not pull away.

His Adam’s apple bobbed down a couple of times, as he looked at me deeply in the eyes.

“What did Thing tell you, in the note?” I nervously swallowed, his presence making me feel like a hormonal teenager.

“He told me that you, missy, have the biggest crush on me but is way too shy and antisocial to tell me. Is that true?” He tilted his head a little, making his hair brush his cheek.

I felt my own heart rush out of my chest. Thing was not lying.

“Thing isn’t lying.” I whispered lowly, tilting my head down. He reached his hand to tilt it back towards him.

As we were still close, he bent down to reach my ear, breathed in, and out making shivers run down my back.

“I hope you liked my godmother’s ashes or shall I say charcoal powder in the reply note.” He paused. I smirked slightly against his fiery skin.

“I like you too, Y/N.” He didn’t pull away but tilted my head once again towards him; making me look at his lips, green eyes, soft yet strong features.

I breathed shakily and leaned towards him. I felt his lips brush my own before he softly placed his lips upon mine. Electricity ran through me, with the satisfying after burn which was my heart heating up.

The darkness I had felt slowly pulled away, leaving my soul, and leaving at a certain state of peace.

His hand was soft against the skin of my cheeks, his lips soft yet delicate and passionate felt incredible on mine. He pulled away only to do it again, and again, and again.

I pulled away after a few second, feeling my heart flying like a hummingbird. “Not so bad?”

“Not bad at all, incredible if I must.” His gaze lightened, as he pulled me to kiss him again.

Two teenagers kissing on the floor of an art studio, two childhood best friends turned into…

Lovers.

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x you

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kechiwrites · 2 years

Text

| kinktober week one | ♱ diligence ♱ | kento nanami x reader |

synopsis: “kento takes careful note of what you like, just in case you want repeat performances”

wc: 2.5k

cw: femme reader, established relationship, oral sex (f receiving), bondage, light d/s dynamics, cunnilingus, squirting, petnames (honey, darling, princess), nanami is VERY observant. NO MINORS.

author’s note: late because i watched mugen train again and had to take a mental health day. this one goes out to @kee-does-things and @katsukikitten PREMIUM NANAMI ENJOYERS who hype me up so much. enjoy. atsumu comes tomorrow (get it? cause it’s smut? cause he’ll nut? alright).

♱ find the rest of my kinktober masterlist here ♱

It’s unthinkable that Kento is hiding something from you. In fact, before this you had found yourself wishing he would hide things from you. Honesty has always been his number one policy, even when you really didn’t want to hear it. Even when the low, gravel of his voice was the only thing keeping you interested.

Lately, however, you've been seeing him scribbling things down in a notebook, an action which, by itself, isn’t much to provoke your curiosity - he’s always taking notes of some kind. What really piques your interest is that once he notices you're looking at him, he’ll squirrel one particular notebook away somewhere out of sight. You try to ignore it at first, everyone’s got their little isms and Kento is a case study in odd behaviours. But every passing day, every scritch-scratch of pencil against paper drives you further and further into madness.

So you look for it, and yes, every self-help book and social media post about relationships says to respect your partner's boundaries, their secrets, but you’re only human and Kento is a steel trap when he doesn’t want you to know something. Still, your curiosity can only beat back your conscience so far. Even as you overturn his carefully colour coded drawers in your shared bedroom to search for the accursed thing, the potential titles of your would-be biography are scrolling through your head;

"So You're A Psycho Spouse..."

"Why Not Everything is Your Business."

"Leave Kento’s Shit Alone!"

Okay yes, your subconscious made the last one particularly pointed, but it definitely wasn’t wrong.

Then you find it, a perfectly maintained, unscuffed, forest green moleskine notebook, silken fabric bookmark wedged a little less than halfway inside. The book feels like it's burning your fingertips and you drop it onto your bed. Maybe you should've waited until Kento was out of the house to look but you knew how long his showers were, you had plenty of time. Carefully, as though the pages would come apart in your nosey little hands, you pry open the book to where it's been bisected, eyes immediately honing in on your name. Below it, in Kento’s perfectly square script, is a very detailed account of the time Kento made you squirt on your third anniversary. Tiny diagrams of what were obviously Kento’s large, veined hands in different positions fill up the margins, accompanied with questions and comments on potential causation, how you'd responded and notes for "future engagements''.

It is mortifying but your curiosity pushes you to read more. This time you flip to the beginning, pages upon pages of suggestive drawings and text filtering past your eyes.

‘Press tongue flat against clit, follow with ring and middle fingers, push inward until she cries, add index finger, repeat until climax.’

A flash of heat courses through your body at the memory and you sit on the floor, settling into the journal entries. It’s clinical and detached and it shouldn’t be even a fraction as hot as it is, but the idea of being the subject of Kento's frequent and thorough study gathers slick between your thighs.

The next entry is rife with images and the contents rob you of your breath. A rough sketch of manicured hands bound by shaded rope in intricate knots takes up an entire page, below it in tiny text are the words; “She’d look good bound, anchor her hands to the bindings around her thighs. First silk, then rope.”

A printed picture of you with your handcuffed arms raised is paper clipped to the next page, a photograph taken during an, at the time, really funny magic show you’d insisted on attending, next to you is a figure holding a wobbly fake saw that you know is Gojo, his normally grinning face obscured by a perfectly round black circle. It makes you laugh, knowing Kento probably couldn’t find a picture from that night without Gojo in it, so your husband made do.

You pour over his notes, heart thudding in your chest so loud you worry you’re developing some sort of condition. One page dissects exactly what colour of rope would look best against your skin, Kento’s stream-of-consciousness notes turning over which items of clothing he likes seeing you in the most, what colours are easiest to find and how much he could get versus how soon they’d arrive. According to the paragraph near the end of the entry, he’d settled on the classic red, a fact that makes you roll your eyes goodnaturedly. Even when Kento surprises you, he doesn’t surprise you.

Another page is filled to bursting with bullet points on the pros and cons of “public scenes”, and you choke on your own spit after you read that Nanami has firmly decided your first foray into the more risky side of your sex life is coming very soon.

Christ.

A third of the way into the little green notebook, you’re reading Kento’s pristine script again; “She takes so well to authority, at least when we’re being intimate.” Your brows furrow together, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you mutter.

“What are you doing?”

When you whip your head up from the journal, Kento is standing over you, dripping wet with his towel wrapped low around his waist. If it weren’t for the thunderous expression on his face, you’d probably attempt to tug the fabric free, probably with your teeth.

“Ah…” You drop the book like it’s bound in hot coals, the spine thudding on your bedroom floor. “J-just…cleaning. How was your shower? You know I was actually thinking I’d take one too!” you scramble up from where you were sitting, steadfastly keeping your eyes aimed at the floor. “So I’ll just-”

“No.” Kento catches you around your forearm, his grip as solid as iron. “You read the book, didn’t you?”

“I can’t read!” You yelp immediately.

“Right,” The exasperation in his voice is clear, and his hold on you tightens by just a fraction. “Well, I’m sure you can understand pictures, can’t you darling?”

The rope is tight, expertly tied so it’s snug around your arms and torso but not so restrictive that you’ll get anything beyond a couple of suggestive bruises tomorrow. Your husband had made quick work of you, pulling you onto your bed and stripping off your clothes without much fanfare, sourcing the rope from the same drawer you’d found the book.

Now it’s no wonder he never wanted you to put the laundry away, you always figured he was just particular about how his shirts were folded.

Above you, Kento almost looks pained, the corners of his mouth are pulled down and his neck is very rapidly flushing pink. You open your mouth to ask if he’s alright, but he cuts you off, his voice dark and dripping like honey when he says; “I knew you’d look amazing like this.” Reverently, he runs his hand over the rope separating your breasts while he whispers to himself, “Perfect.”

“Let me know if anything I do or say upsets you, yes?” He murmurs, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort or anxiety.

“Kento.” You whisper, brushing your lips against his.

“Yes?” His gaze goes soft and sweet.

“The tie you wear to work everyday upsets me.” If you were going to get him to ditch it, your best chance was now, apparently.

“Noted and dismissed.”

‘No such luck.’ You click your tongue in faux-irritation and wiggle against your constraints, only stopping your impatient squirming when Kento levels you with a raised eyebrow. Your response is impish, a smile that’s all teeth, your bare skin framed with crimson cord.

He draws back quickly, turning away from you to mask what you assume is Kento’s version of raucous laughter, his broad, bare shoulders rising and falling from small chuckles. He kneels on the ground, bent over something that his body obscures from your vision. You struggle, trying to get to your knees so you can peer over his shoulder, but you must’ve been making too much noise because your husband circles back to face you, only returning to his quandary when you let yourself fall back on your ass.

“I wanted to prepare more. Was going to give you time to acclimate. I was going to take it slow. But you just…can’t keep yourself out of trouble, can you? Can’t just do as you’re told.” You whimper in protest, hands flexing where they’re bound behind your back.

“Couldn’t just be a good girl.” Kento intones.

Your chest burns with embarrassment as he approaches, dumping a handful of toys at the foot of the bed, most are familiar to you; bullet vibes and magic wands and dildos in varying sizes. You shift away from the collection, a whine building in the base of your throat at what the tools mean for you.

“No, no. No whining, not this time.” Kento snags your ankle, dragging you down over the covers and towards him, mounting the bed to situate himself between your legs. His hands are so warm when they make contact with the plush flesh of your thighs, unrestricted by rope like your torso but similarly unmoving. The blond hooks a finger into one of the knots and tugs you forward, nipping at your jaw before he sucks at the hollow of your throat, sinking the blunt edge of his teeth into the juncture until he leaves a stinging imprint behind.

“Legs up, over my shoulders.” You’re quick to obey, letting yourself fall back against the gathered pillows once again, spreading your legs and framing his head with your ankles.

Kento snakes towards you, revelling for a moment in your shared proximity, his palms anchoring your thighs around his ears, stifling his hearing and sight, allowing him nothing else but the stimulation of your heat against his face. His tongue skates over the soft lips of your cunt, the curve of his nose nudging at the sensitive bundle of nerves nested at the top. You chew on your bottom lip, letting your head droop down. All the while your husband noisily laps at you, groaning in contentment while you periodically squeeze and relax your thighs. His tongue traces long, wet stripes through your puffy folds, smearing his spit and your slick all over the soft flesh between your legs. The sensation forces you to tilt your hips upwards to chase the warmth of his tongue. You twitch against your bindings, keening from left to right, your skin burning relentlessly.

"K-Ken-!" you hiss through your teeth, toes curling against your sheets all while your wetness covers his face. “P-please." Kento smiles against your pussy, burying his face even further between your thighs so he can suck roughly at your clit. His teeth skim against it once, twice, three times until your eyes roll back, lids fluttering shut, hips making aborted movements that only increase in frequency when the man sinks two fingers inside your fluttering cunt. You leak down his wrist as he fucks you with his digits, your aching clit pulsing helplessly between his teeth. Another finger stretches your entrance before he curves them, seeking out the spot within you he’d written so fondly about.

“Come. Now. Make a mess of me.” He urges, eyes flashing with lust, his expression intense and fevered, locks of blonde hair falling over his forehead.

It feels as though your nerves are being set alight, the mix of Kento’s spit and your own slick sliding lewdly down the curve of your ass, making a small puddle beneath you. Tears begin pouring from your eyes, moans and cries escaping from your parted lips and filling the air around you. You wrench yourself up hard, squeezing your thighs around his head, rocking your hips until you’re basically riding his face. Your stomach tenses as an orgasm rips through you, wracking your body until you’re almost cramping. Your husband pulls away, wiping you off his chin with the inside of his wrist. His hand settles over your stomach, fingers spread so his pinkie just barely brushes the lowest knot keeping you in place, effectively smearing your own cream against your skin.

“I need another.” He murmurs, tracing his bottom lip with the very tip of his pink tongue, chasing your taste. Your answering moan is miserable, you shake your head back and forth, chest heaving against your restraints. You sob out a protest, your mind spinning from an unusually intense peak; “N-no.”

“You’ll give me another, honey.” His tone is so sure, so solid that you wonder if you’d refused him at all. He shifts away from you and you take the opportunity to gasp in relief at the cool air hitting the sweat slick flesh of your thighs. Relief that soon flees your still sensitive body when you hear the gentle buzz of one of the toys from the pile. The vibration is deceptively strong when he nudges it just under your clit, your whole body wrenching away from it. Your hips lift up from the bed and Kento moves fast, trapping your middle under his forearm and bringing you back down, back under his control.

“Kento~” You’re drooling now, your bottom lip quivering. Each time you jerk away he follows you with the horrid little thing, pressing it against your leaking slit, dragging it up and down the seam of your pussy while you beg for mercy.

“No more. I’m sorry!”

“Shh, you’ll be okay. Relax.” He commands, brushing the knuckles of the hand keeping you flush to the mattress against your sides.

And you're trying. You try so hard to draw deep breaths, to calm yourself down while Kento works you over, the blush pink vibrator pushing hard into your clit. He makes a mess of your hole, finger fucking you again deep with a precision you now know is practiced. It’s loud and filthy and wet, the sound of him fucking you with three, long, dextrous fingers clouding your mind and bringing you closer to another climax.

“I can’t! T-too soon.” You hiccup, your arms and shoulders trembling with the moderate pain of trying to fight against the rope. Still, despite your breathless objections, you crest over another wave of pleasure, twitching and mewling as you squirt your release over Kento’s hand. You clench down on him, grinding down on his palm as you ride out the sensations. You crumble against the sheets once more, watching Kento dazedly, his fingers already between his lips. His cock is hard against your thigh, the leaking tip an angry mottled red. When he draws you into his chest you push your face into the muscle, murmuring incoherently.

“Okay. Okay princess, you’re doing so good for me.” He presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, cupping your face with his dryer palm. You screw your eyes tight, panting heavy exhales as you try to catch your breath again.

“Okay.” Kento repeats himself from above, he sounds so pleased, content. He teases your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting full body shivers. Your husband lowers his head, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice deceptively gentle, almost cloying.

“Now the wand, okay?”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #nanami kento #kinktober 2022 #kechiwriteskinktober #nanami x black!reader #nanami kento x black reader #nanami smut #if u like this reblog it #i am miserable because of mugen train #jjk nanami

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klausysworld · 1 year

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Can you make a smut like just pure smut klaus x reader (preferably black/mixed reader)reader is hope Mikealson’s best friend and reader is finally meeting hopes family and she is all hot and bothered by klaus and klaus can tell

“Hii how are you could you maybe make a smut klaus x fem reader hopes best friend (reader)finally meet hope’s family and reader is drawn to klaus and can’t take her eyes off of him and he notices and something happens between them :)”

this was also requested and i wasn’t sure if you could respond to two at once??

Hope and i had been best friends for a while now and i was so nervous about meeting her family. I’ve seen pictures and been told all about them so hopefully everything will be fine but i sort of already have crush on her dad even though i haven’t actually met him?

Hope knows i find him attractive and always makes jokes about it, thankfully she finds it funny instead of making it weird

“i know they’re all gonna love you! You, y/n y/l/n, are gonna become an honorary Mikaelson… or maybe an actual Mikaelson if you marry my dad… will that make me your daughter? should i start calling you Mommy?” i shoved her as we laughed and got out of her car to start walking to to her house, i ended up chasing her most of the way to the door as she fake screamed and ran

“i call maid of honour!” she called as we got to the entrance

“who’s getting married?” was said from behind me making me jump forward towards Hope, she had a big smile on her face as she grabbed my arm

“Dad!! this is y/n remember i told you all about her!?” my face heated up as i ran a hand down my face and glanced at Klaus who looked somehow even better in person than in the photos

“oh god what did you say?” i mumbled shaking my head and both she and her father laughed

“nothing bad love, in fact she said many wonderful things, you enjoy art?” i side eyed a very smiley Hope who was practically buzzing

“she does, she paints too, she’s really good, i think you should show her your art room cuz i know for a fact that she would just looove it, i showed her some of your pieces and her mouth was hanging open like a fish she looked adorable” she rambled but i don’t think Klaus was listening much, he was looking straight into my eyes as his pupil dilated as he licked his bottom lip and hummed

“well them we’ll take her up yes?” he cut hopes rant off and she nodded excitedly

“sure well im gonna see aunt Bex so if you take her to see that- the art! i’ll see you both in a moment” she literally slid out of the room as she slipped and skidded round the corner

“you don’t have to, i think Hopes in a…funny mood” i explained and began walking after her but his large hand took ahold of mine and he spun me back to his chest

“we should go see the art, if she thinks we should see the art then it’s what we should do” i whispered an “okay” in response and he led me up the stairs.

He showed me many paintings and sketches letting me touch the different textures and flip through his books. All the way through he kept a hand on my waist, his face was practically sat in the crook of my neck and he whispered stories of why painted different things. One sketch book had paintings of naked women, or hands touching intimate parts of someone, i felt my panties dampen at the thought of him painting my body, his hands cupping my breasts. He inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a little grunt

“which is your favourite?” he muttered as he bushed himself against me letting me feel his hard on against my ass

“probably that one…” i said quietly pointing to the painting of the women lead on the bed with her back arched and her head thrown back

“mm that was actually a very interesting person, she had very lovely hands you see?” he moved my hand to where hers were, she was squeezing her own breasts, i realised that was the main focus of his drawing, her hands

“you’re very talented Mr Mikaelson” he smirked and rubbed my hip with his thumb

“1000 years of practice can do that, perhaps…you’ll let me do you?” i gulped and slowly turned around so our chests were touching, i was breathing pretty heavily and could feel my breasts brushed against him, i locked eyes with his sapphire ones as i tilted my head up. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine which i immediately reciprocated, they were plump and soft making me push my tongue through them and taste his. He tasted rich and intoxicating making me moan into his mouth and moved my hands to hold the back of his head while his held onto my waist pulling me tightly against him. He moved a hand down and lightly squeezed my ass under my skirt. He pushed his leg in between my thighs and moved me along his jeans, the fabric quickly darkened with my wetness as it went through my underwear onto him. I panted when he moved his mouth down to suck along my jaw and then down and back up my neck finding my sweet spot just below my ear and paying it extra attention. I moaned again louder and i began grinding against him harder. He brought his hands down to lift me up by my thighs, i wrapped my legs around him as he connected our mouths again.

Our tongues entwined and the sound of pages scattering the floor filled the room, i was put into the now empty table, i was pushed flat on my back and my legs were pulled to the edge

“you look so bloody beautiful spread our like this, suck a lovely dress” he told me and kissed down my neck to my cleavage, he ran his tongue along the swell of my breasts. I arched my back and moved my hands up to undo some of the buttons going down so he had better access to them. Klaus gently cupped them both and then attached his lips to my left one making me gasp. He tugged on it and swirled his tongue around it before giving the same affection to the other one. He undid the rest of the buttons and pushed it off my arms leaving me completely bare for him.

Nervousness flooded through me and i brought my knees up to my chest so i was covered

“i want to see you y/n, all of you” he whispered and pulled my knees apart to look at my most private area. The vulnerability of being so open for him while he was still fully clothed had me avoiding any eye contact as he studied me.

“you are magnificent you know that? absolutely divine” he announced moved so he was off the table and pulling me to the edge, he went down onto his knees and held my legs open

“do you want this, love?” he whispered locking eyes with me

“i- i do” he smirked in response and his tongue darted out. His hot tongue kitten licked at my clit, my hands flew to his hair and pulled him towards me breathing out his name as though it were a prayer

“lay back love” he instructed before his actions became more. He was now sucking harshly at my clit and his tongue teased my entrance making me gasp a moan. I opened my legs as wide as they would go when his skilful tongue entered me, he expertly plunged it within me and i called out for him desperately. The dreams i had were no where near as brilliant as the real thing. I could feel myself fluttering around his tongue, his thumb went to my clit and drew figures of eight upon it, he gradually got faster and i pulled at his sandy locks. The burning sensation pulsed through me, my nails scratched his scalp, his groan adding to the pure pleasure coursing inside while my toes curled and i came into his mouth. His thumb slowed and gently tapped my clit as he licked up every last drop that escaped me.

“You taste fantastic y/n” he whispered and kissed me again letting me see how sweet i was in his mouth.

“can you take your clothes off now” i asked shyly still playing with his curls. He smirked and kissed my lips again

“i suppose it’s only fair” he said while removing his shirt. I gaped at his toned body and couldn’t help but run my fingertips down his torso as he undid his belt, when i glanced down to his underwear i audibly swallowed

“i know you’re going to be so good for me” he uttered stroking my cheek with his palm while palming himself

“how…how do you want me?” i hesitated before asking still eyeing his thickness, almost drooling when he twitched

“Let’s get you on the floor” he pulled me down from the table and onto the floor

“hands and knees love” he whispered and i did as told. He disappeared for a second before returning with a pillow, he stretch my arms and and told me to rest my head on the pillow. I arched my back for him and shivered at the thoughts running through my mind

“you’re sure?”

“i’m positive” i replied

A moment later his tongue was in my folds again gathering my juices and sliding into my centre before exiting again and shifting himself forward, his hands rubbed my ass and down my back, he gripped onto my hips and guided me onto his dick. My tight walls swallowed him as soon as he entered his thick length and we both moaned.

“oh god” i mumbled and stretched myself further

“not god love, just me” he slowly removed himself until just is tip remained inside me before thrusting back in forcefully and building a rhythm from there

“i don’t think ‘just me’ is a fair answer there, you’re basically a god” he gave a breathy laugh and continued moving, i had never felt so full in my life, his cock buried far inside me hitting my g-spot just right making me cry out for him to continue. He gave guttural moans from behind me. His hands moved up my back and got ahold of the area between my neck and shoulders, he pulled me back into him to meet his forceful jolts. I tightened around him and i could feel my clit screaming to be touched, almost as if he could read my mind one hand left my shoulder and went to his mouth before down against my bundle of nerves.

“you going to cum for me sweet y/n?” he asked as he twitched inside me and his thrusts became slightly sloppy. I nodded rapidly and my body shook with the force he used to fuck me. i squeezed the pillow between my hands and cried out a moan of his name as i clamped around him and let him fill me with his hot fluid.

He rocked into me for a while longer before slipping out of me and letting out a sigh of contentment. My body relaxed and my face pressed into the pillow, my ass was still propped in the air and i groaned at the ache in my core pushed myself up on my arms and then my hands and rolled over to sit down

“did i do okay?”

“you did perfectly, come here” i crawled over to him and he tilted my head to kiss my lips slowly and softly

“Hope’s waiting for us and you need to meet everyone else but next time i’ll take you out for a romantic dinner, i’ll get you another pretty dress, your favourite flowers which i already know because Hope has told me everything i could need to know and then if you want something like this again ill have you in my bed” i blushed dark and nodded smiling

“i’d like that very much”

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abiiors · 1 month

Text

birthday surprise - matty x reader

part 2 of matty's birthday weekend a/n: this is scheduled. by the time this goes up, i will (hopefully🤞🏼) be on a beach somewhere, day drunk 😌 cw: vomit (because hungover), dramatic (because sad), once again vague descriptions of depression. some kissing and suggestive stuff. idiots friends to lovers wc: 3.1k

george’s massive hand rests on matty’s back while he retches into the toilet.

his head pounds mercilessly, the sunlight streaming in through the window is barely helping and the soured wine churning in his stomach comes back up once again, leaving him gasping for air. a loud splash echoes in the bathroom and matty groans, gagging a bit more.

george is a good friend. he lets matty lean on him and holds the glass of water so matty can slowly sip from it.

it barely works though. he feels like shit regardless, and none of it can be cured by water or food or painkillers.

george helps him get back to bed once matty feels slightly better. the whole time neither of them say a word. matty doesn’t know how much of last night has been told to his friend—does he know the precise way in which matty fucked up? did he see matty in the act? overhear the conversation accidentally?

george’s face looks completely blank. he does all the right things—sets a glass of water and a few painkillers next to matty, grabs him a bucket, draws the blackout curtains. he even offers to get breakfast.

“fry up from that small cafe down the street,” he says in a hushed voice. “come on, greasy food’s good for hangovers.”

matty mumbles something like a vague yes, if only so george would step out of the house for a bit. once he’s out, matty searches for his phone, wedged somewhere between the mattress and the headboard. the sudden brightness makes him wince but once he manages to open his eyes, he checks for messages and missed calls.

apart from one missed call from george and one from jamie, there’s nothing.

nothing from her.

not one message.

the last message he’s sent to her sits at read—it’s nothing special, just the address to the pub they were going to meet at. and then… yeah, matty remembers how well that went.

he remembers the last look on her face before she stormed off.

then it’s just a fog.

his throat feels clogged, his eyes sting but no tears come. matty just lays there, curled up like a pathetic worm, clutching his pillow until seconds or minutes or hours later george re-enters his room.

“right, come on,” he flings the covers off matty, making him feel a sudden draft of cold air. “i’m not getting you breakfast in bed, mate. you’re hungover, not an invalid.”

“‘m not hungry,” matty mumbles. his voice is hoarse and his throat hurts—probably the vomiting—but it’s nothing in comparison to his head. a delayed realisation hits him that he never took the painkillers.

george huffs. “don’t be a diva.” and if matty had any strength he would absolutely be offended by that. then again maybe george doesn’t know the full extent of last night.

“seriously george—”

“matty. you’re going to get out of bed and come to the kitchen. we are going to eat and then we are going to talk about last night.”

well… there goes that. a stubborn side of him wants to be an absolute ass and dig his feet in. say all sorts of mean things to george just so he’d leave. but isn’t that what got him here in the first place? he really isn’t in the position to hurt more people in his life.

like a small child matty drags his feet the entire way to the kitchen, turning his nose up at the food on the table. (even though it looks really good and his stomach does growl now that he can smell the food) george doesn’t egg him on any further. he just motions to the chair and slides a mug of coffee in front of him.

“you said what?”

it’s the eerily calm edge to george’s voice that makes matty shrink in his seat. he does feel better with some food in his stomach, physically at least. but the way george stares at him—eyes cold, lips pressed in a thin line—makes him feel sick to his stomach all over again.

“i said– i– i said it was the first of april, i told her it was a joke.” his voice is a pathetic whisper, words drowned by shame and guilt and self-hatred. matty wishes he could go back in time and undo it all. he won’t say any of it.

he won’t even touch the wine in the first place.

“right after you said i love you.”

“yeah.”

“huh.”

easy for george to say that. it’s not his love life blowing up in his face right now. matty stabs the tomato next to his half-eaten toast, watching it spill its guts onto the plate. red. just like last night.

he remembers that part of it.

“what happened after? how did i… get home?”

george goes a bit silent for a second, not meeting matty’s eyes which sets alarm bells ringing in his head.

“do you really not remember?”

when matty shakes his head, george just sighs and then softly says her name. “she called charli, crying a lot and i figured something went down. i called you–don’t you remember that?” when matty’s blank face gives him the answer, george continues, “you sounded really awful like… you were gasping for breath. i could barely understand you. so i thought i’d pick you up and get you home. i’m glad i did.”

in all of this the only part matty focuses on is her. and that she called charli crying a lot. of course, he thanks george but it’s only half-hearted, distracted. he can’t get the image of it out of his mind—her sobbing on the other end of the phone, barely able to get a word out. it breaks his heart all over again.

he did that.

this is all his fault.

“matty… you have to make it right.”

that’s the biggest problem of it all—he doesn’t know how. what is he supposed to do, call her up and say: hey, so you know how i drunkenly said i love after which i assumed you looked at me with disgust and then i said it was all a joke and you stormed off? well it was not a joke i am seriously in love with you and i don’t know what happens to our friendship after this.

yeah. there’s no way to put it any better.

so he just nods. at least, that way he doesn’t have to answer to george right now. he’s figure out a way to do it later, once he doesn’t feel like a raisin. he’ll figure out a proper plan, build up the courage to call her.

for now matty can only swallow the rest of the now-lukewarm coffee and hope that he can just sleep the rest of the day off.

for three days after that, his messages stay on delivered.

it’s a harrowing process, to pick up his phone and dial her number only for it to go to voicemail after the second ring. almost like she’d stabbed her thumb on the glaring red reject button.

all his messages went unanswered too. all the—

hey

can we talk please?

please!

i just want to say sorry

just hear me out

—all of them ignored, like all his other efforts to reach her through her friends.

day four charli shows up at his doorstep, face twisted in a scowl, eyes like embers ready to singe him if he stepped one toe out of line, mayhem in tow.

the puppy is his last straw. the fact that she sent mayhem back with charli instead of dropping him off herself… matty doesn’t even want to think what that means for him. for them.

he mumbles a quiet “thanks” to charli, afraid of speaking anything louder.

“if it weren’t for george—” she starts and swallows, as if she’s literally swallowing her anger. “nevermind. forget about it.”

and then she leaves him standing at his doorstep like a loser, mayhem’s leash in hand.

much later he realises that the collar is different now, it’s no longer the slightly frayed old brown collar from before. this one is new.

this one is green. a green that matches her hair…

the thought of it makes his throat clog up with tears once again. when had she even had the time to go buy him a new collar? one to match her hair so perfectly? was it before or after he fucked up? matty scratches mayhem behind his ears who lets out a soft little whine and nuzzles him in return. maybe the puppy is sad too, maybe mayhem prefers being with her instead of being with him.

the next few days he spends like a pig in a pigsty, surrounded by his own filth of food cartons and cigarette butts and coke cans. he makes it a mission to call her once every day—all of them go unanswered anyway so what’s the point?

by the time the seventh of april rolls around, matty doesn’t even bother thinking about his birthday anymore—there’s no pointing in celebrating it, he’s not even in the mood right now. one failed celebration is enough.

his friends, of course, have a whole different plan in mind.

jamie shows up at his house the evening of the seventh, not ready to take no for an answer. it’s just a small dinner, he says, only friends and family. (matty knows that’s not true, knows it’s going to be a whole surprise party) but every “no” is met with a gentle refusal to accept it and so ultimately, he gives in and dresses up in his cleanest, least sad shirt. the one that least screams “i took my first shower of the week today”.

jamie, to his credit, tries engaging him in conversation. matty, to his credit, tries not to answer in one syllable words. it gets exhausting real quick though, so they end up spending the rest of the car ride in silence.

everything that happens after is a blur in his mind—the pub looks ordinary from the outside, inconspicuous. everyone yells “surprise!” much like he predicted. matty smiles, cheery and fake. someone hands him a drink, which he tries to refuse but the person is too far away to hear him over the music now. his stomach roils at the thought of being in another pub, in the middle of another birthday party.

he just wants to go home and curl up onto his bed and never move again.

except…

matty’s heart stops when he spots a green head.

he blinks rapidly, about to rub his eyes to make sure he didn’t hallucinate. maybe there are drugs in the air, maybe the (untouched) drink in his hands is actually spiked.

but the green head moves and she steps away from behind george, a glass of some dark cocktail in her hands and her eyes trained on him. matty staggers to a stop, about to drop the glass in his hands.

“hey…” her voice is hesitant, unsure when she first walks up to him. from behind her, george throws matty a look, his brow raised as if to say one chance, matty. better make it right.

of all the things that have happened today, this… this is the real surprise.

matty stands there like an idiot, tongue-tied and wide-eyed, unable to come up with a simple “hi”.

“should we… uh, head outside?” it’s when she points vaguely behind her, to the smoking area, that he realises just how loud it is inside. the consistent beat of the song thumps through his chest, making him feel more anxious than ever. in a daze, he nods and then dutifully follows her outside.

as soon as the door to the smoking area closes behind him, she whirls around, arms crossed in front of her chest, brows knit in an indecipherable expression. “talk.”

oh.

well, that’s what he had said to her hadn’t he? in all the text messages he had sent. that he just wants to talk. he just wants one chance. and now that the chance is here, his mouth's as dry as a desert.

“i was… an idiot, no forget that, i was a real cunt to you. just like you said, i’m so sorry for the awful shit i said, i…” his words come out stilted and awkward. he has no idea where he’s going with this, he only knows he needs to earn her forgiveness somehow.

even if he has to get on his knees.

“i got drunk an–and cruel and said things i didn’t mean—”

“what things?”

“w-what?”

“the things you didn’t mean,” she clears her throat, “what things were they? the part where you said i love you or–or the part where you said it was all a joke?”

matty’s insides feel like jelly all over again. it’s like he’s back where he was a week ago—just a boy, standing in front of the girl he loves, about to say the stupidest thing in the world.

“well?”

“i didn’t mean it as a j–joke.” his voice comes out as a cowardly whisper, high pitched and barely audible. that’s no way to say the things he really wants to say!

gathering all his courage, matty steps closer to her. to his utter surprise, she doesn’t step away.

“it wasn’t a joke, what i said to you. i—” he chokes, nervously running a hand through his hair, wondering what the slight widening of her eyes means out of the million possibilities his brain’s already conjured up.

“i know i was drunk and barely making sense but i meant it… i meant all of it.”

slowly, she uncrosses her arms, letting them dangle at her sides. the crease between her brows relaxes too. suddenly, it’a her taking a step forward until they’re toe-to-toe and she has to tilt her chin up to look him in the eyes. the moonlight shines bright on her face, the glitter gleams on her eyelids, and for a moment matty is completely awestruck.

how is he meant to find words when she leaves him so completely tongue-tied?

“and what’s ‘it’, huh?”

the faint ringing in his ears starts up all over again and music from inside the pub floats through the walls, mellowed and somehow peaceful. this is it, he thinks. he fucked it up once, he absolutely cannot do it again.

“i meant i… i love you. not as a friend. i mean n-no, of course, i love you as a friend but i also meant it as something more. not that you have to reciprocate! i just–it’s just what i feel—”

the rest of his words die on his lips. get cut off by someone else’s lips more like it. her lips. against his.

matty’s eyes resemble wide saucers until her arms wrap around him, fingers tangling into his hair. her nails brushing against his scalp is what makes his body relax and suddenly matty’s kissing her back.

tenderly, he holds her cheek, tucking away stray hair behind her ear. his other hand rests on her waist, too hesitant to grip her tightly but too scared to just let go. as if once he lets go of her, she’ll float away, far away from him again, out of his reach. matty’s sure she can feel his heart hammering in his chest. he’s not super proud of it but the kiss makes him forget all about being embarrassed.

the feel of her tongue lighting teasing his lips is all that matters.

she makes a sound at the back of her throat, almost a… moan and pulls away abruptly, looking shy all of a sudden.

matty touches his lips with trembling fingers.

“was that too—”

“are you joking?!” if he though his voice was breathy before, it has nothing on what he sounds like now. the sound that comes out of him is hoarse, like he’s struggling to breathe and it’s making him feel dizzy. the good kind of dizzy. “so i fucked up, majorly, might i add! and i get rewarded with a kiss?!”

she giggles, all anger from before melting away right in front of his eyes. “it was more to shut you up honestly, you would have been here all night. rambling.”

for the first time in a week, matty can finally breathe, can finally feel the blood in his veins flow again. for the first time in a week, matty feels like a person again. “it wasn’t a reward. just because you’re pretty and a good kisser doesn’t mean i’ll forgive you so quickly.”

matty grins, “you think i’m pretty?” and promptly gets punched in the arm.

it takes them a moment to stop giggling, but when they finally sober up, she turns serious again. “seriously though, matty, it hurt me a lot, what you did. i think… i think i can set it aside for tonight but i’m going to need some time to figure things out.

matty nods. of course, he knows the impact his words must have had. shame and guilt blooms deep within him, strong and acrid.

“don't forgive me yet, love. forgive me when i earn it. forgive me when you think i’m worthy of it.”

when she kisses him again, it’s deeper than the last time. her entire body is pressed against his, so warm and soft in arms, exactly like he’s imagined countless times before. he can’t stop himself—can’t stop him from finally holding onto her waist, hand sliding down to her ass. can’t stop himself from pushing her back till her back hits the wall and a soft gasp leaves her mouth. every nerve ending in his body is on hyperdrive. everywhere she touches, electricity zings through him.

matty slides his tongue in her mouth, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth and soothing the sting away with his tongue. every time he feels her shiver, matty presses further into her. he just wants more and more and more—more than he can do here and now on this balcony.

all his friends are inside for fucks sake.

“you can start now,” she teases, smiling roguishly against his mouth. “you’d look quite nice on your knees, i think.”

blood simmers under his skin, rushing south all at once and this time it’s matty who shivers, struggling to stand upright.

“yeah? that what you want, sweetheart?”

“take me home, please,” she says. and matty agrees in a heartbeat.

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

add yourself to the taglist

#matty35 #the 1975 #matty healy #matty's birthday weekend #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x reader #matty x you

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teyamsgrl · 11 months

Text

surrounded in smoke ✧ jake sully

❗️MDNI ❗️

YES I AMDE TSU'TEY ALIVE I MISS HIM BUT ENJOT THIS I WOULD LEGIT DIE FOR JAKE AND IM DO DRUNK YPING THIS

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, age gap (jake 30, reader 20), angst to smut, slow burn??, sorta cheesy lovey jake, l-bombs, oral f receiving, softdom!jake, dirty talk, size kink, tsaheylu, missionary 😮‍💨 - muntxatan: male spouse/mate

the multilayered tension between you and jake was obvious. the way you yearned for him was reciprocated completely, yet it was so difficult to address. jake being olo’eyktan gave him the highest status in the clan, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to compete with that. you were just another woman in the clan, a younger one at that. but to jake you were more than just ‘another woman’; you were the woman he needed, the one he would choose over anyone else. he admired your initiative, your skill in almost every possible task, your genuine kindness and generosity. you two loved each other, spent hours together yet never spoke about the one thing that was painfully evident, the one thing that kept drawing you both to each other day after day.

the war party had returned after a long day, sky dark and everyone's freckles glowing bright. all the injured men were travelling to the tsahik tent, several visibly bleeding and limping. you greeted them as they returned, searching the crowd for one specific individual. when you didn't spot jake, you began to notice the anguish on some of the faces of your fellow omatikaya. you tap tsu'tey's shoulder, urging him to look to you, "tsu'tey, where is jake?" your heart begins racing at the million possibilities swirling in your mind. "we don't know. one minute he was with us and then he was gone. we looked around the area but there was a lot of smoke and it was dark, it was hard to see if he was anywhere", your breath catches in your throat at his words, head dizzy with the thought of jake possibly being dead. "thank you.." you whisper, rushing to call for your ikran. when she arrives you hop on her back, connecting your queue with her and guiding her to the war zone. jake had warned you to never enter this area, even if it seemed necessary yet you weren't even worrying about your own safety at this point, chest heaving with every anxious breath you breathed. you finally land in the war zone amongst several destroyed rda gunships, smoke surrounding you just as tsu'tey had said.

you pulled your knife out and held it in front of you, just in case someone was to pop out of nowhere and attempt an attack. "jake!" you yell, looking through the mess of debris to see if he was anywhere to be seen. nothing. you move east of the zone first, smoke clearing as you get deeper into the forest. "jake!" you yell again, eyes scouring the area frantically. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you get even deeper into the trees, hope slowly exiting your mind. as if perfectly timed out, you heard a low grunt in the close distance. "jake?" you yell again, running towards where the sound appeared to be coming from. you see a muscular arm peeking out from behind a tree, someone obviously slumped against it. you move around the tree to spot jake there, several bruises littering his torso. "jake, oh great mother, thank you" you breathe out, kneeling beside him. "y/n? sweetheart why are you out here? it's so dangerous" he says, hand reaching for yours. "i came looking for you, what happened?" you asked, squeezing his hand as a tear rolls down your cheek. "shit i don't even know, i ended up ducking into the trees at some point and got knocked out for a bit, guess i was farther out than i thought" he explains, his eyes following the tear's trail down your freckled cheek. "i thought-" you whine softly as more tears fall, "i thought you were dead, i got so scared when you didn't come home with everyone else" he brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, swiping your tears away gently. "oh sweetheart... i'm right here, i'm alright, don't cry..." he smiles softly as you nod, nuzzling into his large and warm hand.

"god y/n..." he sighs, heart swelling at the mere thought of you being worried for him. "what is it?" you place your much smaller hand on top of his, "it must be obvious now, but i just- i need to tell you, or ask you, i guess" he rambles, biting his lip from the slight nerves emerging inside of him. "i have chosen you, y/n... i love you. if you would let me, i would be honoured to be your mate..." he trails off, thumb tracing small circles on your cheek. your heart is racing again, so fast that it feels like it could just jump out of your chest at any second. "jake... i feel the same way, ever since we first met. i would do anything to be your mate.. but jake, you are olo'eyktan, the most important person in our clan. are you sure you want me to be your mate? i'm just another woman, a younger one who is really nothing special-" he cuts you off, "hey, do not say that about yourself. i have never met someone like you, and in any life, any world i would choose you. i am positive, i want you to be my mate" he states, moving closer to lean his forehead against yours. your breath quivers at the proximity, tickling his lips. "can i kiss you, princess?" you nod frantically, his lips colliding with yours in a passionate kiss. you hum into it and reach for his shoulders, coaxing him to draw you onto his lap.

he groans softly at the feeling of your warmth and weight against him, hands travelling all over your torso, groping and grazing every inch of you. when his lips part slightly you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, tail swishing rapidly at the new sensation. his hands find a home on your hips, grasp strong as he pulls your hips down to meet his crotch in a gentle grind. you whimper slightly into the kiss as your clothed yet wet pussy rubbed against the tent forming in his loincloth. "jake.." you breathe as you retreat from his lips, hips moving at a rougher speed, his cock straining and begging to be released. "i know, babygirl... you look so fucking gorgeous" he whines out before ushering you to stand up, "off" he tugs at your loincloth in a hurried manner. you nod and quickly untie it from yourself, allowing it to fall as you step out of it. he grabs your thighs and pulls you so your pussy is now hovering in front of his mouth, slick visible and making him dizzy. "come here" he grumbles hungrily before attaching his tongue to your slit, gliding the muscle over your hole and finishing with a flick to your clit.

the whine that escapes your mouth is greedy, hole clenching around nothing. he chuckles at your noise before diving back in, tongue plunging into your hole and circling it, fingers leaving marks into your thighs. "jake" you moan, stabilizing yourself against the tree as your hips sporadically buck into him. he hums into your pussy, sending a vibration and shiver up your spine then coming back to your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. your jaw slacks while your clit pulses between jake's lips, knot inside of you beginning to tighten. "jake jake- i'm gonna-" you gasp out, roughly bucking your hips in anticipation. he hums and nods between your legs, urging you to let go for him. "oh fuck!" you squeal, back arching while you cum then slouching after your high passes. he smiles and kisses along your thighs, pushing himself to stand up, "good, princess?" "sooo good" you smirk, moving to be flush against him. he moves so his mouth is situated beside your ear, breath leaving goosebumps along your neck, "do you want more of me?" he questions, guiding your hands to his bulge. you whimper and nod, tracing his shaft over the cloth. a sensual sigh leaves his lips before he guides you to lie on a patch of moss nearby, the plush plant surrounding your body delicately.

your chest heaves as you watch jake remove his loincloth, cock finally being released. jake was huge, and your eyes widened at the sight. he buzzed at your reaction, coming to kneel between your legs. "ready?" he hoists your legs up and around his waist while he aligns himself with your dripping entrance. "y-yes, please.." you gasp at the feeling of his tip pushing in, this small section of his cock seemingly stretching you out so much already. "big..." you whisper as he continues pushing in, your back arching slightly at the further stretch. "i know princess, just a bit more... you're just such a small girl, huh?" he finally bottoms out, his eyes fluttering shut from the vice grip your pussy has on him. your back arches from the kiss his tip gives your cervix, his length making you stretch. "tell me when i'm good to move, sweet girl, i know it's a lot for your little pussy.." he expresses with care yet underlying hints of taunting. "now.. fuck me jake" you say earnestly, aching for him to begin.

he smirks and pulls his hips back just to push in again, gaining a deep and consistent rhythm. he groans as your skin slaps together, cock being sucked in each time he pulls away slightly. his hands have a nice grasp on your waist, your nails digging into his biceps. "taking it so good, look at you, so pretty down there" he moans alongside you, your mind foggy as you stare at jake above you, your pussy squelching at each thrust. "this- this is so good, so good at this, jake" you whine and move one hand to yank your queue from underneath you, holding it up towards him, "let us seal it.." he nods breathlessly, swinging his from behind his back and letting it connect with yours. his thrusts never falter as you both observe the tendrils working their magic, intertwining and connecting you both even further. both of your grips on each other tighten at the feeling of the tsaheylu; bodies, spirits and minds fully united. "i love you, muntxatan" you breathe, now dilated pupils boring into his as your bodies lurch back and forth in unison. "i love you too, so much" he groans in a whispery tone, thrusts slower and rough now, slamming into you like there's no better feeling than this. "again- cum again-" you whine, legs flexing around his slim waist. "i'm with you, babygirl, gonna give you all my cum, all of it" he leans down to kiss you, sloppily yet sweetly. you kiss back as best you can as your orgasm rips through you, your pussy clenching and pulling his orgasm out of him in an instant. "holy fuckkkk..." he moans into your mouth as he releases into you, painting your walls as you gasp loudly at the feeling.

he pecks your lips again as he comes down from the high alongside you, your hands rubbing along his heaving chest. "i'm kinda glad i got left behind today" he chuckles and brushes his nose against yours. "hey! why?! i got so scared!" you smack his chest lightly, trying to hold back the smile creeping onto your face. "i see that smile coming.. show me" he smiles down at you and strokes your cheek with one hand, the smile now full on your face. "there we go, beautiful... now look, i'm glad because you came to find me and then all this happened, otherwise it could've been more months just pining over each other" you nod in agreement, giggle escaping, "well i guess i'm glad too, and i'm glad you're only bruised up and nothing more.." he hums in response and touches his lips to your forehead, letting them linger as you breathe in time with each other, now mated for life.

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purplekissinger · 5 months

Text

deardiarydeardiarydeardiary

Y/N's been acting strange lately. She may contain the urge to run away, but Tom holds her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks.

🎵alt-J - Breezeblocks🎵

TW: manipulation, mental disorder themes. This is a full blown angst.

The cover: smooth, soft, fine leather. It feels nice to run your hand over it and you do it from time to time. Sometimes it feels warm. The corners: gold, darkened with age. They taste slightly salty (yes, you chewed them at some point, let's not talk about that). The paper: rough, thick, slightly yellow, clean pages like muddy water (there should be a bottom somewhere, but it’s not visible). Tom: soothing, gentle, funny, sympathetic, loving, the best, scary, all-knowing, affectionate, scary, witty, did I mention ‘scary’?

“Nothing special happened today,” you wrote and paused, thinking about your next sentence. He will know if you lie, he has proven it too many times. It's better to switch the topic quickly. “There is a small problem with the task on potions, maybe you can help me?..”.

Sometimes you use ellipses when talking to him. Poke, poke, poke. Writing lacks the timid intonation so you draw it with dots.

Tom doesn't buy it.

“And what was not special that happened today?”

You began to sleep worse and eat less.

‘Y/N, are you okay?’ - asks someone to your right. It takes you a second to realize that you are sitting at a table in the Great Hall and it’s unbearably noisy here. It takes two more seconds to turn your unseeing gaze to the girl on the right (is that Mary? Mary what’shername? Mary MacDonald? Do we know each other? Why is she talking to me? How did I end up here?).

“Yes, everything is great,” you smile weakly. “I’ll just grab something to eat and it will be even better.”

The plate in front of you is empty. Mary's face is distorted by some kind of emotion, and it takes you another three seconds to recognize pity and disgust in it.

“Molly Prewett said I've been weird lately.”

Molly Prewett said she's already seen you in that shirt for several days in a row. Molly Prewett said your eye is twitching. Molly Prewett said you scream at night.

“Molly Prewett? That fat red-haired girl?” - you can almost see his mocking smile through the pages, and you immediately feel better, as if the invisible fingers squeezing your throat have slightly loosened their grip. “Y/N, dear, please don’t say that she actually managed to hurt your feelings. You do realize why she says that, right? You are the most beautiful and the smartest girl in Hogwarts, and this ugly bitch is simply dying of envy. Damn, I'm dying of self-envy. I’m the luckiest bastard ever to know you. It's a pleasure talking with you. You yourself are a pleasure. Of course, she is jealous, the whole of Hogwarts is crazy about you, otherwise they are just blind. Do you have a mirror in your room right now? Come on, look in it. There’s a princess living in your mirror, go check yourself!”

In your mirror lives a princess who has lain in a coffin for a hundred years. Hair tangled, eyes dull, sweater inside out.

You walk along the corridor, moving your feet mechanically. You won't be able to remember what lesson is next on the schedule even if your life depends on it. Your peripheral vision has gone and all sounds seem to be distant as if there were cotton wool in your ears. Step. Step. Step. Step.

“Tom, this is just wonderful! I struggled over this essay for two hours, and you sorted it out in no time. Wait, don’t remove the solution yet, I’ll copy it…”

“Take your time, honey. I want my best girl to study well.”

Last week, for the first time in your life, you got a Troll in Transfiguration, which you used to love. You simply went to the pulpit and stood there with an absent look for two minutes. After class, professor McGonagall touches your elbow gently.

“Miss L/N, if you feel like you need to talk, I’m always ready to listen to you,” she says almost in a whisper. It's the warmest tone she can muster, but you already have someone always ready to listen.

“y/n sunshine my beloved dear y/n y/n y/n y/n i love you so please don’t go y/n y/n y/n if you have a heart you won’t leave me you're such a kind girl y/n you won't leave me here you'll help me you'll talk to me you'll love me you'll help me i believe y/n y/n y/n you're the best in the world if i find out that you told someone you’re dead dead dead dead dead dead you don’t know what i can do what i’m capable of you can’t escape me you’ll rot in azkaban forever if you tell anyone y/n don’t even think of that y/n you’re my sunshine you open the diary and i can breathe again i breathe you i live by you i will die without you don’t leave me help me i’m begging you i love you so i love you so”.

Choking with sobs, you look at the jumping lines. The pages are wet from your tears.

“What do you want me to do, Tom?”

It’s 3 a.m. You haven't slept for two days. How are you still able to write? How are you still able to think?

“The toilet is on the third floor. Write me when you get there.”

#harry potter #yandere x reader #tom riddle x y/n #harry potter x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle diary #angst #yandere tom riddle

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not-5-rats · 7 days

Note

how do you think Sugarboo would go about asking Seth to be their bf? If they ever did. Obvi they would talk to Al first but after that

No cause I've thought about this, like alot...all the fucking time, it plagues my little mind.

(I like to think this is sort of in a time like Chapter 2, all three of them living peacefully in Sugarboos home)

They would have spoke to Alphonse atleast a week earlier, it came up one night when the three were having a film night. Seth had fallen asleep, like deep DEEP sleep and Al noticed the way SB was looking down at the sleeping boy. He asked how they felt about Seth and the conversation ended with SB admitting that they had romantic feelings for Seth but they wanted him to know that this doesn't effect their love for him (this made him laugh). They agreed that SB should speak to him about it because it was pretty clear (to Al) that Seth had some sort of feelings towards them.

SB had a couple meetings with a few potential clients so hadn't been in all day, it was just Seth and Al. They just kind of hung about for most of the day, they cleaned the living room and sorted a couple things in the kitchen. Al seemed to be both happy and rather nervous all day, one moment he couldn't stop smiling at Seth the next he was silently sweeping the floor a bit lost in thought. At around 5pm SB got home, Seth and SB went into the kitchen to make dinner during which SB asked him if he would maybe on a walk with them later, just up beside the local park. He said sure and that night at around 7:30pm they left the house waving to Al as they went.

They had made their way to the park, talking about their days and how the clients were, finally they got to the park and sat down at a bench just outside of it. The park was rather empty apart from a few kids sat on the swings. They hadn't spoken for a bit, they had both just sat admiring the nature around them but then SB spoke, their voice hushed to avoid drawing the teenagers' attention

"Hey Seth? There was something I wanted to talk to you about"

He seemed a bit panicked by this but he made an attempt to suppress these feelings and responded

"Hm? Is everything alright Sugar?"

"Well it's been great having you here, both me and Al think that. You're a great dude to live with and you do alot more round the house than Al ever has"

They both laughed, Seth noticeably quieter than SB but they quickly kept talking

"But thats not the point, I wanted to tell you...well its more asking something. Seth, what I want to say is-"

"If you want me to go I get it, I've been round for quite a while and I don't mean to take up all your space"

Seth cut them off and leaned back against the back of the bench, SB was very confused and went to comfort him but he spoke again before they got the chance

"I've overstayed my welcome and I totally understand that, I didn't mean to get in the way of your life Sugar. I didn't even intend on coming back to begin with-"

There was a nudge to Seths head which made him look over at SB, surprised by their 'attack'

"Seth, you're a sweetheart but shut up and let me speak"

He did as he was told, he nodded remaining quiet as SB explained

"No, I don't want you to leave. If anything what I'm about to say...will hopefully prove that I want you to stay"

They paused, took a deep breath and finally said what they had been aching to say for so long

"I, well I love you Seth. I've loved you for a while, and before you ask yes I've spoken to Al, yes it's all okay. That's if you feel the same! I understand if you don't though"

He seemed kind of stunned, sat there like a deer in headlights. When he finally came round he smiled at them and gently held their shoulders

"Oh Sugar, my darling Sugar"

With that he kissed them, his hand sliding from their shoulder to the back of their neck. SBs own hands wrapped around his waist and they smiled into the kiss, joy building up in their chest. When they finally split SB giggled

"I'm taking that as you feel the same way?"

He laughed

"Of course I do! Sugar I've wanted to tell you for so long but...the whole things with Al, our first meeting, all those things made it feel like you'd never feel that way for me. But God, Sugar I'm so glad, so so glad you feel the same"

They sat there gently holding each other...which caught the attention of the teens, who began to ooo and make kissy sounds, so they went home. Upon seeing the smile on their face Al instantly knew what had went down, so they all sat on the couch and cuddles. It was beautiful and I love them all

#ive been writing way too much angst recently so here #theyre in love #yuurivoice #i love them all #yuurivoice seth #yuurivoice bittersweet #jet's answering stuff #jet's rambling again

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see-arcane · 6 months

Note

Yes Hirano's super weird with the "vampirism happens only with virgins" rule when it's decidedly not a thing in Dracula's vampirism lore. (Though not as weird as what he did to Mina, who deserves to crawl back to life and murder everyone in the whole manga for it)

True on both points.

Unfortunately, you've activated a mental trap card and now I'm about to explode into a barely-related tangent. Please stand by for hazy Hellsing spoilers to anyone who wants to look away.

The saddest thing about Hellsing is that it's one of the least headache-inducing Dracula-adjacent pieces of media I can think of.

Even with how Hirano draws Seras Victoria and That Scene with Rip Van Winkle. Even with his ~creative~ take on Vlad the Impaler. Even with what he retroactively does to Mina's remains. Even with Abraham van Helsing once again getting shoved through the No Really Honest for Real He was a Super Cool Occult Magic Man who was Definitely Solely Responsible for Taking Dracula Down!!1! filter (with Jonathan and Mina getting a whole single panel together, ooh, aah). Even with the nitpick of turning Helsing into Hellsing just because of the Edgy+ factor.

Even with all of that, I can still genuinely say I enjoy it.

First, because Alucard and company are there to kill Nazis and generally monstrous people who signed up to get superpowers to be even bigger monsters. I love seeing them get supernaturally woodchipper'd. Never disappoints.

Second, because Alucard/Dracula is--and this is vital--still a bastard. One who, via the lens of how the Hel(l)sing family did their murky magical experiments on him, got juiced up into the Mega Shounen Horror Ultrabadass version of himself...and promptly got put on a magic leash so that he could only bare his teeth at the command of his human Hel(l)sing master. And for decades, pre-Integra, he was left to wither and rot in a windowless cell. Waiting to be dusted off.

It's a unique psychological place to force the asshole into. It doesn't make him a good guy, but I'd say it makes him a better character. One who pushes the limits of how much of a monster he can be without breaking the tethers on him and his power. Even when the inevitable Count Fuckula ooh~ sexy sexypire~ glaze gets applied with his interactions with Integra, it's still shown how fucking aggravating and uninvited he is with it. How much he uses it as just another nettle. Just as he once used an admittedly classier/classic gothic predatory menace on Jonathan, Lucy, and Mina in the novel.

When the big climax comes and he gets to flex all of his bloated powers, he's reached an internal growth point where he, at the very least, takes a moment to acknowledge Integra and Seras as worthy of respect rather than just irritating or deriding them respectively.

As an aside, despite her obvious Fanservice Girl position, I do have to grudgingly give Hirano points for how he portrays Seras Victoria's position with Alucard. This is the first (and I think only!) time I've ever seen a Dracula turn some voluptuous babe and then...not make advances on her. Before or after. He turned her to save her life after shooting through her to kill the vampire at her back. If anything, this is the first time we see any form of Dracula take a non-sexual, strangely paternal approach to the assumed vampire bride of a story.

And then there's the matter of Alexander Anderson. He and the Iscariot organization are absolutely bristling with what-the-fuckery and religion-aesthetic weirdness I don't have the skill to untangle. But the set up between Anderson and Alucard at the climax by itself is an interesting thing for how it shows a kind of logical (by manga standards) extreme of Dracula looking peaceful in the novel's climax; how he died and turned to dust with serenity. He welcomed it.

Alucard/Dracula, for all his glee at being a sadistic overpowered monster, welcomes Anderson's attempt to kill him while the man is still human. He's eager to be slain by a righteous mortal hand--perhaps he always had been since that Transylvanian sunset when he was left paralyzed, but not put down. Just turned into an experiment and an attack dog for the century and change to come. And when Anderson resorts to inhumanity, to becoming a horror like him rather than remaining the human hero who rightfully slays the monster, it makes him livid. Heartbroken.

There's just a lot to pick apart with this version of Dracula that I find worth sitting through the nonsense for. He isn't watered down into a cartoon. He isn't turned into a wink-at-the-camera Casanova. He isn't ~doing it all for love~. He's still fucking Dracula. But a Dracula who's been dragged by the hair through an intriguing rock tumbler of a history and forced to play with a cast of characters that makes me want to see what happens next rather than roll my eyes at yet another cookie cutter DRACULA WAS SO AWESOME-COOL AND THE REAL ANTIHERO ALL ALONG AND ALL THE GIRLS WANTED HIM AND THE HUMAN HEROES WERE ACTUALLY ALL LAME OR SECRETLY EVIL narrative.

It's a bloodstained bullet-riddled eldritch undead fever dream.

All that and it has a Dracula who eats Nazis.

I'll take that shit and Crispin Freeman's velvet voice acting in a heartbeat over 90% of Dracula media that's been squatted out over the past 126 years.

#at this point I'm going dust off the manga collection for a reread #hellsing #mina harker #dracula #alucard

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randombush3 · 1 year

Text

Good In Bed

florence pugh x footballer!reader

part one of three :)

summary: it’s just sex. Based on Good In Bed by Dua Lipa.

words: 3216

warnings: mentions of sex, toxic relationships

notes: here’s my compensation for the radio silence. is this more about football than florence? possibly. is it angsty? yes. but don’t be discouraged. read it!

p.s. i have no idea what team flo’s family support. i refuse to believe it’s Oxford United. (it probably is.)

Florence tries hard not to be surprised that you’ve woken up in her bed. She can’t let you think she wasn’t in control of the situation. One of the rules involved always being in control of the situation. The other rule included not staying the night, but it seems that was forgotten quickly after the third orgasm. Waking up beside you is a first, but there have been close calls before. None have made her feel as uneasy as the real thing.

Your alarm is stupid, she thinks to herself, becoming even more annoyed when she rolls over to face you and you’re out cold. The covers don’t wedge enough distance between your bodies. She is not about to reach over your naked self to turn your irritating alarm off. She doesn’t want to touch you. (It’s silly — she spent the whole night doing just that.)

Instead, she says your name; first softly, but then louder and closer to your ear. You don’t stir. She sighs. “Can you turn your fucking alarm off.” It’s not a question, it’s a command. You shake your head with your eyes closed and move closer to her, burying your face into the soft skin of her neck. The woman underneath you stiffens because she’s not supposed to find you so fucking adorable and the warmth suddenly surges out of your body.

“Oh, fuck.” You jolt upright, trying not to smirk as the covers come with you and leave Florence very bare. “You’re not a fan of One Direction?”

Drag Me Down plays on loop.

“Of course not.” It’s a lie, but you’ll never get to know her well enough to find that out. “You have somewhere to be,” she deduces. No one sets an alarm for six in the morning just for the fun of it. Or maybe you do. She wouldn’t know.

“Yes. Training.” You turn to her, and she catches a glimmer of hope in your eyes, but it morphs into something unreadable the minute you catch the expression she’s giving you in return. She looks kind of… angry. “I just need to…”

“You’re not going to find your clothes here,” Florence states, pretending to be very composed about the whole thing. “Unless you’d like to train in that obnoxious Hawaiian shirt you wore yesterday?”

“No, I’ve got to get my kit. It’s… God, I live on the other side of London, Flo.” You display a shocking lack of resilience. It’s uncharacteristic. Or maybe it isn’t — she wouldn’t know. “I should just not go,” you mumble, flopping backwards onto the bed. Your hand reaches out and settles confidently on her neck, and she hisses as your thumb brushes a developing bruise. It’s one of many. “Do you want me to go?”

Yes.

No.

She doesn’t know.

You’re too good in bed for her to think straight.

“Is training that important?”

You shrug. “They signed me for another two years. I’m sure they won’t mind if I give it a miss.” She trails her hand up your stomach, splaying out her fingers across your skin as if to keep you in place. It’s a sudden change of heart. “You should come to a match some time. I can prove that I’m not just all talk.”

“Ask me again after an orgasm,” she whispers, and you are quickly devoted to getting her there.

- - -

“Look who decided to show up!” Katie shouts, drawing everyone’s attention from the drill to the sight of you in your sliders. You left Florence’s flat at seven, got to yours at half past eight, and then decided that rushing wasn’t going to be worth it.

You even got a coffee on the way.

“L/n,” Jonas calls. He looks a bit more than unimpressed. You drop your duffel bag, and bin the empty Costa cup.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, staring him down, a hint of amusement present in your voice. Jonas usually isn’t deterred by your ego.

“You received the details of what time training started, yes?” You nod. “And you are not injured so the exceptions did not apply to you, yes?” The girls pretend to not be watching, but the effort put into the drills drops from one hundred percent to fifty. “Training is not optional. Hard work is not optional. You were late.”

“I didn’t wake up in my own bed,” you state rather bluntly. Because the girls aren’t listening, they don’t suddenly have fifty-two thousand questions. “It was unexpected.”

Jonas shakes his head. He is not going to berate you like you are a teenager, but you are not being let off. “Twenty laps. Ten at a sprint.”

“Yes, sir.” You shoot him a grin, and stalk off to the changing rooms.

Your phone buzzes as you lace up your boots; an invitation to come over later. She’s having a stressful day. You don’t think you mind being Florence Pugh’s stress ball.

Katie sidles up to you, a glint in her eyes that promises nothing short of an interrogation.

“Aren’t you supposed to be training?” you ask uninterestedly, slipping your phone into your bag and zipping it up. Katie notices. It’s suspicious.

“I’m getting the train to Birmingham later. Got permission to leave early.” Her lips twitch at the thought of seeing her girlfriend, and then she presses them together in an inquisitive smirk. A smirk reserved for discussing your sex (love) life. “Who was it?”

“Who wasn’t it?”

“Hopefully not Ruesha,” she quips. You roll your eyes. “How come you went out last night without me?”

“I have other friends.”

“No, you don’t.”

You’re not about to tell her this wasn’t a one night stand. She can’t have the satisfaction. She’ll fancy herself the next Sherlock Holmes.

Katie sits beside you and nudges your shoulder. “You didn’t get a booty call, did you?”

“No!” you say a little too quickly, pulling hard on the knot you’re tying. At her pointed look you add, “No, it wasn’t… It’s not like that.”

“You’re fucking someone?” You shouldn’t squirm under the weight of that sentence, but you do. “You’re dating her?”

“Not dating.” You don’t have to say that it’s the former.

“Okay, so my best friend is getting it on with someone. It’s not like you to be so secretive about your conquests.”

Wincing slightly, you stand up to leave. “She’s not a conquest, Katie.”

She’s not. It’s different. It’s not like that.

- - -

The next game you have ends with you feeling like you could absolutely beat the shit out of someone. Your scowl is determined to stay put, even after you’re given player of the match. In fact, that just makes everything worse.

You march your way back to the locker room with unyielding determination to get the fuck out of here. No one blocks your war path, even if a few of your bravest teammates trail after you. They all jump as you slam the door shut, and agree that going back to the pitch for a natter with their friends on the other team would make for better conversation than whatever you’d fire at them.

Your fist connects with the wall but you barely register how much it hurts. You just played the game of your life — a game in which she promised to watch. She fucking promised.

Anger clouds your judgement as you dial her number. You never really use it unless you’re telling her to come over or asking what she’s wearing. You’re not supposed to use it for anything other than that. She made that clear.

“Hey?” She sounds like she’s on set. You ignore the background noise that tells you she couldn’t possibly have made it because you’re not going to make excuses for her. “I’m at work. I can’t talk—”

“Let’s get to the point. You love to disappoint me, don’t you?” You put the phone on speaker as you strip off your kit. The seams rip, the telltale sound echoing through the empty locker room, but you carry on with full force and decide that you don’t want the shirt from this match anyway. “You tell me what I want but you don’t fucking follow through.”

“Is this because I didn’t make it to your stupid match?” Her tone is unbothered, disinterested.

“You agreed to come!” She had been the one to suggest it, actually. The night before, when you’d been a hurricane through her flat trying to find the clothes that had been thrown across the floor of various rooms, she had pulled on a t-shirt and placed a hand on your shoulder, and then told you she’d be there today. “I think if you knew me, you’d understand me better,” you mutter.

“I think it’s better if I don’t get to know you.” It feels a bit like a punch to the gut. You’re okay with friends-with-benefits, but Florence doesn’t even want to be friends. There’s a pause. Florence shoots her assistant a glare as the poor girl tries to tell her she’s wanted for a scene. “Congrats on the win tonight. I’ll see you later?”

You swallow whatever response your brain originally forms, “yeah. I’ll bring Chinese.” And somehow you don’t feel angry with her anymore.

How the fuck do you not feel angry anymore?

“Calmed down?” Beth asks softly. You’re not sure how long she’s been standing there, but hopefully she didn’t witness your little tantrum. “Katie told me you were…”

“It’s just sex.”

“Is it?”

You want to die so that this conversation ends. “Not all of us are capable of having what you have,” you snap, and she steps back. You run a hand through your sweaty hair. “Please can we not talk about this.”

Beth nods and you realise she’s been sent in to test the waters. As soon as the team feel you’re not about to murder her, they filter in as naturally as possible.

No one comments on the busted knuckles of your right hand.

They congratulate each other about the game, patting you on the back if they’re bold enough. Katie and Jordan change either side of you, gushing over everything that went well. It reminds you to tap into the winner’s high stored somewhere beneath the feeling of impending doom. The doom sounds an awful lot like Florence saying ‘I think it’s better if I don’t get to know you’, but you decide to pretend it’s a little drum with no words and no face. Not her words, not her face.

“You alright there, Y/n?” Jordan’s smile pulls you back to a conversation you hardly had any part in. “We were just saying we should go out to celebrate.” The door opens, and the irrational part of you imagines Florence walking through it. Jonas is there in the doorway. “Once we’ve all been told how we can do better, course.”

“Party at Jordan’s place?” someone, maybe Rafa, shouts loudly. The changing room is buzzing with excitement, and Jordan flushes red at the thought.

“Ballie Ballerson is good,” you say above the noise. It changes the location as desired.

“Thanks,” Jordan says, sighing in relief. “Fancy coming over for a drink before we meet the others?”

Jonas is gearing up for a speech. You won’t have to be in a room full of people who care about you for much longer. People caring about you has always made you feel a little uncomfortable.

“I’ve actually got, uh, plans. Sorry, Jords.” You grab your stuff and hurry towards the door, meaning you can run away from everyone as soon as Jonas moves.

“She’s got a new fuck-buddy,” Katie explains quietly. “Beth thinks she’s got a crush on said fuck-buddy.”

“What do you think?”

Katie glances at you, assessing how restless you look. You remind her of a skittish cat hiding behind a wheelie bin before it can make a break for it.

“This girl is lucky to have her in whatever capacity she’s got.”

Jordan laughs. “You think she’s messing with her head, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” Ruesha had warned Katie that it would turn into a complete disaster before Katie had finished updating her. “The whole thing is going to blow up in her face.”

- - -

You start to wake up in Florence’s bed more often than not.

Half the time you’re not sure how you got there, having vivid memories of arguments fresh in your mind. There’s talking it out, and fucking it out. Florence and you seem to not know the former exists.

It’s not a relationship.

It’s not a real relationship, at least.

She asked you to join her evening with her friends once, but you didn’t make it out of her apartment. You don’t dare invite her to another game.

There’s nothing remotely close to an emotional connection.

Apart from when everything gets a little too soft and she reaches out to stroke your cheek before she kisses you. Or when you don’t start tearing off each other’s clothes immediately, instead asking genuine questions about each other’s days.

Then there’s the one time she turns up outside your door fully intending to have her feelings fucked out of her, but finds herself crumpling into your comforting embrace and sobbing about nothing in particular. You take her to your sofa and hold her until the crying stops. You fall asleep on the sofa with her on top of you, blanket pulled protectively over the tangle of limbs and mess of emotions.

You score two goals and get three assists in the match the day after. Despite the dull ache of your back. A rumour spreads through the team like wildfire: you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.

It takes three days for her to push however that night made her feel down into the dark depths of the memories she won’t relive.

The fourth day blows up in her face.

You’re tired of being ignored. You shout at her. You shout so loudly she looks terrified.

She hates that the only thing she wants to do after your voice cracks and you start to lose it is to push you against the wall and sink to her knees, but she does it anyway.

You drive each other mad, but it must be what makes you good in bed.

You spend a lot of time in bed. The girls notice. They start to tease you about the purple bruises on your collarbones. They play a game: how many orgasms did you have the night before? It depends on your performance. Jen and Stina decide that it equals the number of goals you score that match. You’re insulted that they underestimate your stamina like that, but remain quiet and passive.

Katie starts talking about you to Leah. If anyone can knock some sense into you, it’s Leah. Your respect for her is enough to quell whatever egotistical ideas are preventing you from seeing how toxic your little situation has become.

Leah asks you who you’re sleeping with. Nonchalantly, you tell her it’s an actress. It takes all of five minutes for Jordan to text you about how she’s thankful it’s not another player. Something about toxicity within the league doesn’t end well. When Katie sees what Jordan has said, she slaps the back of her head. “You’ve practically told her this is okay because she’s fucking an actress not a teammate.” Actress, teammate, it doesn’t matter to you. You’re still clinging to the lie that there isn’t a connection between the two of you.

“It’s Florence Pugh.” You’re sitting on the worktop of Katie and Ruesha’s place. It’s been months since it started. Ruesha seems to barely contain her joy.

“The woman?” Katie checks, curious but not insistent on further details. You nod with a small smile. “You’re in love with Florence Pugh?”

“We don’t talk much.” You’re not in love with her. You don’t have a connection. “Just a lot of fucking.”

“Tell me why my teammates are talking about how lucky your mystery girlfriend must be, then,” Rue quips, catching you off guard. You struggle enough remembering there’s a city outside of Florence’s flat. It feels like your head has been dunked into the Antarctic Ocean: you’re the gossip? “Not going to name names, but there are hints of jealousy.”

“We’re not… It’s not like that.”

Katie rolls her eyes. You say that too often. “You told me you had three rules in place. Keep it a secret, stay in control, and don’t sleep over. I’d say it’s very out of control, you share your location with me and I know that’s not where your flat is, and people are talking.”

“They can talk all they’d like.” No one will link it back to Flo. It’s not possible. “Even you couldn’t think of where I’d met her.”

“At your brother’s birthday party,” Ruesha interrupts. Again, she catches you off guard. She chips at the wall you built around yourself. “He works in film, doesn’t he? Lighting or something.”

“He’s a gaffer.” It’s a little creepy how she knows this.

“It took one look at your wikipedia page. I’m not even a superfan.” Katie is also scared. She reminds herself to make sure her personal information comes from her mouth before Ruesha can search it up. “Florence Pugh has her own set of rumours following her around. One, in particular, takes note of how she knew who was top in the WSL table, despite the fact she is not a football fan. I mean, no one even knows what football team she supports.”

“Tottenham,” you answer without thinking. “She’s not sure why they do, but her family each have their own Spurs jersey. She got number 13 when she was nine.”

Katie grins but it fades soon enough. Florence Pugh has had your jersey number (albeit in the enemy’s colours) since she was nine and you still don’t believe there’s anything there. “You seeing her tonight?”

“Yeah, when her flight gets in from Milan.”

“I think you love her.”

“I can assure you I don’t.”

You fight the urge to second guess yourself. You’re not allowed to love her even if you find yourself doing it anyway. It should be hammered into your head by now.

- - -

Flo is giddy when she drops her bags in the hallway and surges forward to kiss you.

You haven’t stopped smiling since you picked her up from the airport, and she hasn’t tried to sabotage the good mood just yet.

She takes her jumper off as soon as you break for air, and you find that your palm knows exactly where to strike the wall in order to find the light switch to her bedroom. “I missed you,” breathes Florence against your lips, words more felt than heard. “I missed this.”

“Me too.”

You both pretend to have missed sleeping together more than the person you get to do it with.

At four in the morning, you settle into her bed, sheets sticky but not too unpleasant, skin sweaty but not unbearable. The glass of water on your side of the bed (temporarily yours, of course) reflects little puddles of light onto her ceiling as you lie awake. For some reason, you’re unable to fall asleep. Probably for the same reason, Flo is too.

There’s definitely something there. Maybe that’s what makes you so good in bed.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

#florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh angst #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh x you #florence pugh imagine #katie mccabe #ruesha littlejohn #awfc #football #woso #leah williamson #randombush3 #woso x reader

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fayes-fics · 1 year

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It Had To Be You: Chapter 2 - Pour myself a cup of ambition

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (also features Thomas Dorset x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x Tessa), Modern AU

Chapter Summary: Set 5 years after Chapter 1 (linked above). As your job takes you abroad for the very first time, you bump into the last person you expect on another shared journey full of revelations.

artwork credit: @colettebronte

Warnings: none really… some sexual language, swear words, bickering, and flirting.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Chapter 2 of my multi-chapter modern rom-com, heavily inspired by When Harry Met Sally. Sorry that it's taken a while to get this next part written. I hope you all enjoy! <3

7 years ago (5 Years Later)

You stand just before the security gates at St Pancras International, engaging in a rare PDA moment. But you justify to yourself that this is the first time you have had to go away on business since you started your new relationship three months ago, and this one seems like great potential. Dr Tom Dorset. Friendly, sweet, handsome and, so far at least, well-adjusted and emotionally mature. Your friends agree he’s quite the catch. And he is pretty fantastic in all sorts of other ways too. You certainly have no complaints in the bedroom.

Just as he whispers how much he will miss you and kisses that spot on your neck that makes you a little weak, your moment is interrupted.

“Tom? Tom Dorset? Is that you?”

There in front of you is the man you thought you would never see again. Looking a few years older and dressed better, but there’s no doubt who it is. You’d never forget those eyes.

“Ben? Ben Bridgerton?!” Tom seems delighted, and it occurs to you that they must be old friends as Tom takes his arms from around you and shakes his hand warmly. Just fucking great.

“I thought it was you! I haven't seen you for years! Was the last time when I came to Ant’s at Trinity?! What have you been up to?”

“Medical school mostly,” Tom offers demurely, then turns to you. “Oh, sorry, Ben, this is y/n y/l/n, y/n this is Ben Bridgerton; I was his brother’s roommate at Trinity College, Oxford.”

Ben’s eyes cut to you, and you see a confused look pass over his face; like you are familiar, but he can’t place why.

“Well, I must get this train, but it was great to see you! Email me!” Ben smiles warmly, and with one last brow knit in your direction, he takes off.

“Thank fuck he didn’t remember me,” you exhale loudly when he is out of earshot.

“Ben?” Tom looks confused.

“Yes, We drove from St Andrews to London together five years ago, and it was the worst road trip I think I've ever had,” you bemoan. “He was dating a friend of mine, and I agreed to split the drive. Urgh, it was terrible. He’s so obnoxious.”

Tom looks over your shoulder. “Well, looks like he just got on your train, honey, so umm, good luck with that,” he chuckles, bemused as you roll your eyes.

“Just fucking great,” you sigh sarcastically and plant your head on Tom’s shoulder as he draws you into his safe, warm embrace again.

“I love you; I will miss you,” he says softly, cupping your jaw lovingly as he gently kisses your lips.

It's only the second time he has said it, and your heart flutters as you break into a huge smile. “I love you too. I will be back before you know it,” you promise, pulling him in for a passionate kiss you hope he will remember.

As you part, he exhales raggedly. “God, now I’ll miss you even more.”

“Mmm, that’s the point,” you whisper coquettishly and run a hand down his back, inside his coat, unseen by people around you. “Text me, sexy stuff,” you request quietly, then gently bite his bottom lip.

He groans, “Good god, woman, get on that train before I drag you somewhere or buy a ticket to join you.”

___

You are still giggling and feeling so fizzy and light, like champagne is in your blood, as you skip onboard the train to Paris. Taking your seat in First Class that you’ve been assigned by work feels like such a luxury; excited to cover your first story abroad.

Your phone pings just as the train slips out of the station. Love you. Safe travels. Txx

You can’t help your little titter of happiness, and just as you go to type a reply, someone leans over from the seat diagonally behind you, across the aisle.

“I swear I recognise that giggle. The University of St Andrews?”

It’s Ben. Of course, it is. Thanks for that fate.

“Yes,” you sigh, not turning around, annoyed he doesn't remember more detail. How could he possibly forget calling you beautiful? Your traitorous brain yells in your skull.

“Did we date?” he questions.

You can't help but almost snort at that. “Hell no!” You twist around. “You were dating my friend Gen. We drove to London together after term ended.”

“Oh, I remember now!” he smiles, “you wouldn't give me a Malteser.”

“You propositioned me!” you blurt out as you watch him pull an apple out of his bag.

“No, I didn't,” he laughs, “I just said you were beautiful,” and he takes a bite out of the fruit. “You still are, if it's any consolation,” he offers, around a mouthful.

“None whatsoever,” you fib, feeling your cheeks heat at the compliment. “And you still talk while you eat, like an animal,” you roll your eyes, barely believing how riled up you are from exchanging less than five sentences.

“Would you two like to sit together?” the man opposite you at the table offers.

“No, that's really not….” you begin.

“Yes, thanks!” Ben interrupts, and you scowl at him as he stands immediately, throwing his bag down next to you before swinging over as the man moves aside.

“So you were going to be a journalist?” he winks after he settles into the seat opposite you.

Up close now, he is still just as handsome as he was. Maybe more so, jaw more defined and smattered with stubble. The utter arsehole.

“I am a journalist. My internship at the Guardian turned into a job. I'm going to Paris to cover the climate summit,” you state proudly, squaring your shoulders a little. “You?”

“Visiting my fiancee,” he grins, and something twinges in your gut. Maybe getting tacos for lunch wasn’t a good idea.

“You are getting married? You?” you laugh in total disbelief.

And you are suddenly back in your old studio flat, hearing more about his player reputation. A few months after the drive to London, Gen came to crash on your sofa and commiserate her reentry to single life. She didn't seem that upset about the dalliance ending, to be fair, mostly about how much she’d miss the ‘fucking mind-blowing fucking’ as she had so indelicately put it. You can see the words floating like a speech bubble above her face in your mind “Y/n, I can live without the dick attitude, but damn, I don’t know that I wanna live without that dick, you know?” Then threw herself face-first into a cushion. You cut off her margaritas at that point. How much that had to do with not wanting to think about him and his member, you decided not to dwell on.

“Yes,” he cuts into your reverie. “Her name is Tessa. She's an artist too. She's Parisian.”

“Tres chic.”

“How long have you been with Dorset? Wait, don’t tell me. Let me guess,” he smirks.

You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow. “This ought to be good,” you mutter as much to yourself as to him.

“Hmm, three months?”

Dammit. How did the bastard get it spot on?

“Why?” you try to bluff, but the victorious crooked grin that unfurls over his face shows he knows he's right without you having to say it.

“Goodbye before a trip. Classic three-month behaviour,” he opines, taking another huge bite of his apple.

“Glad to see your eating habits have at least got healthier,” you state dryly, trying to change tack.

“Tessa likes to eat healthily,” he explains with an almost dreamy expression. Part of you is already impressed by this woman you have never met who has turned the human rubbish bin into a more impressive version of a man. “Has he told you he loves you?” he queries, spittling just a speck of apple onto the table.

“Why is that ANY of your business?” you frown.

“Because if he hasn't, he's a fool,” he shrugs casually as if those words aren't some of the sweetest you’ve heard.

“Luckily, he’s no fool,” you respond, confirming without actually confirming.

He nods. “Good. Dorset is a good one. Don't ‘y/n’ him away,” he jests, using air quotes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you spit, suddenly whiplash angry when just a few moments ago you were impressed with his sweetest.

“You can't smoke in my car. Eating that will kill you,” he adopts a high-pitched voice and waggles his head as he mocks you.

“Fuck you,” you grumble.

“I would have, happily, but you said no,” he winks, and you want to punch him.

“I thought you just denied propositioning me!”

He just shrugs and laughs loudly. You can tell everyone around you is most amused by your back and forth, so instead, you shoot him a glare and then change tack, staring out of the window as the countryside of Kent zips by. So irritated you forget to text Tom back for another five minutes.

___

“Do you know anyone in Paris?” he asks, pulling out an AirPod as you close your laptop sometime later.

The train is somewhere under the Channel, and the darkness of the tunnel outside the window makes the train feel a touch more intimate, claustrophobic even.

“No,” you admit.

“How about Tessa and I take you out for dinner?” he proposes.

“Isn't tonight your first night together in a while?” you frown.

“Yeah… and?” he seems to be either not catching your train of thought or being intentionally obtuse, goading you into a trap to state the obvious.

“I would have thought you'd be otherwise occupied,” you arch an eyebrow pointedly.

“Oh…” he suddenly catches your drift and, rather adorably, a spot of pink dust his lovely cheekbones. OK, maybe not the latter.

“Certainly not wanting a third wheel, like me hanging around,” you point out meekly with a knowing smile.

“If that is your way of offering a threesome, I’m down,” he flirts, his voice suddenly velvet smooth, so much so the hairs on the back of your neck prickle up.

“God’s sake,” you mutter, feigning more indignation than you actually have.

“You're the one who told me about your lesbian experiences at uni!” he argues defensively.

“I was just trying to prove a point!”

“Got to be honest, don't remember a damn thing except the visual that almost had me drive into a bus shelter,” he admits with a chuckle.

“And take out that delivery cyclist,” you remind, joining in.

There is a moment where your eyes meet in a joint nostalgia of amusement, and something feels softer between you.

“Listen, Tess’s brother is a chef at a great little bistro; we will almost certainly end up there anyway, as we usually always do. I'm sure she would be delighted for you to join us,” the sincerity of his offer touches you.

“Thanks, but I have to do some research ahead of tomorrow. I’ll probably just order room service and crash out,” you admit, knowing that is a lame response.

“Fair enough. Well, let's at least exchange numbers this time. Stay in touch? If you are at a loose end at any point, let me know, and we’ll happily give you a tour or just grab a drink?”

“Okay”, you capitulate and hand over your phone for him to punch in his number.

“Wonderful” he smiles genuinely, and his hazy eyes dance. “Are we finally becoming friends?” he teases gently as he seems to fiddle a little longer than needed to put in a few digits.

“I guess so,” you respond with a laugh.

He hands back your phone, and weirdly it's screen locked.

“Good, And as my very first act as your friend, may I make a comment you are not allowed to take offence to?” he questions, with an odd tone.

Your dander is suddenly way up. “Whatttt?” you elongate the word rife with suspicion.

He leans over the train table suddenly, and you startle as his lips are warm against the shell of your ear, your heart-rate spiking. “You have a fucking fantastic pair of tits,” he murmurs.

You splutter, shame, outrage and desire flooding your system in almost equal measure. Incapable of forming words, you sharply pull back into your seat and shoot him your most sour glare.

“Maybe don't hand your phone over when it’s open to the message thread with your boyfriend,” he chuckles.

You feel mortified, recalling the photo you'd texted Tom last night as a going-away present, and you are almost blinded as the train suddenly swoops out of the tunnel and sunlight floods into the compartment.

In fact, you are grateful that he gets a call just at that moment. It seems to last ages, and he wanders away, probably to find the buffet car, knowing him. By the time you see him making his way back through the carriage, the train is pulling into Gare Du Nord. You are on your feet and walking to the next carriage to alight. Not certain you can live down your embarrassment.

There are a few moments as you wander around Paris over the next two days when your fingers itch to dial his number… but you never do, something always stopping you. Bizarrely, you think it might be the idea of meeting his fiancee, and you have no idea what that means, so avoidance seems like the best tactic.

After all, he’s probably moving to Paris soon, so really, what's the point?

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

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dianawinchester03 · 2 months

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Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

The trio are currently in a motel, luckily enough they got a room with three beds. Sam is woken up to Dean's phone ringing. "Dean" He groans. Y/N's eyes flutter open, also woken up from Deans phone. "You're phone's ringing!" Y/N groans, burying her head in her pillow.

She grabs her extra one and chucks it at Dean, it hits him in the head but only makes him stir in his sleep. Sam reaches across onto the nightstand and grabs it, flipping it open to answer it. "Hello?" He answers groggily. "Sam. Is that you?" John's voice echos through the phone.

Sam shoots up from him bed, all sleep washed off of him. "Dad?" He whispers, Y/N hears this and shoots her from her bed. "Are you hurt?" He asks him and Y/N rushes over to his bed. "I'm fine" John tells him. "Ask him if my dad is okay" She whispers, her heart beating out of her chest in concern. Sam nods, obliging.

"And F/N?" Sam asks and John chuckles lightly, looking over at F/N who's leaning against one of his cars, smoking a cigarette outside of the payphone that John is at. "Tell Y/N he's okay" John tells Sam. Sam gives Y/N a thumbs up and she lets out a breath of relief. "We've been looking for you guys everywhere. We didn't know where you were, if you're okay" Sam says worried.

Y/N looks over at Dean who seems to still be asleep. "Sammy, I'm alright. What about you, Dean and Y/N?" John assures him. "We're fine, Dad. Where are you guys?" Sam asks him and Dean stirs in his sleep. Hearing Sam say 'Dad' draws Dean's attention to the conversation. "Sorry, kiddo. I can't tell you that" John says apologetically.

"What? Why not?" Sam asks confused. "Is that Dad?" Dean asks from his bed, stunned. "Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. You just-...you're gonna have to trust me on this" John tells Sam and realization dawns on him. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed mom and Mrs. L/N" Sam asks, his tone low.

"Yeah, it's a demon, Sam" John confirms, telling him. "A demon? You know for sure?" Sam asks, his breathing growing heavier. "A demon? What's he saying?" Y/N nudges him. "I do. Listen, Sammy, I, uh..." John stutters. "I also know what happened to your girlfriend. F/N told me. I'm so sorry" John's tone is filled with sympathy.

Dean quickly puts on a T-shirt. "I would've done anything to protect you from that" John says, his eyes filling with tears. Sam feels a pain in his chest at the mention of Jessica. He clears his throat. "You know where it is?" He asks. "Yeah, I think we're finally closing in on him" John confirms.

"Let us help" Sam says. "You can't. You can't be any part of it" John shakes his head. "Why not?" Sam asks. "Give me the phone" Dean urges Sam to give him the phone. "Listen, Sammy. That's why I'm calling." John sighs. "You, your brother and Y/N, you gotta stop looking for us. Alright? Now I need you to write these names down." John tells him.

"Names? What names, Dad. Wh- Talk to me. Tell me what's going on" Sam pleads. "Look, we don't have time for this. This is bigger than you think. They're everywhere. Even us talking right now, it's not safe" John snaps. "No, alright! No way" Sam snaps back, shaking his head.

"Give me the phone!" Dean exclaims, putting his hand out for Sam to give him the phone. "I've given you an order. Now you stop following us and do your job. You understand me? Now take down these names" John bellows, his tone filled with authority. Sam's jaw clenches in anger and Dean snatches the phone from him.

"Dad, it's me. Where are you?" Dean ask worried. Suddenly his demeanor changes into a serious one. "Yes, sir" He says, gulping. "Uh...yeah, I got a pen. What are the names?" Dean listens, writing down some names. After he does that, Y/N snatches the phone from him.

"Hello? John? Where's my dad?" She asks, her tone shaky. "Hey sweetheart. He's right here, but hear me out okay?" He says gently and she nods firmly. Her heart dropping. "Yes, sir" She says quietly. "You kids need to stop looking for us" He says. "What? No!" She barks and he sighs.

John taps on the phone booth to catch F/N's attention, indicating that Y/N wants to talk to him. She hears a bit of movement and then, "Y/N/N? Is that you, baby?" She hears her dads voice. "Dad" Y/N breathes out relieved, getting up from Sam's bed. "Please, tell us where you are" She pleads with him. "I can't do that. You need to listen to me okay" He says.

"Why?! We've been worried sick for months and now you're calling us to tell us don't look for you, that's not fair!" She argues and he sighs deeply. "I've given you an order. Now follow it." He barks at her, his tone filled with authority before hanging up, the call goes dead.

"Dad??.....Daddy??" She calls out but he had already hung up. "MOTHERFUCKER!" Y/N growls in anger, tossing Sam's phone on his bed. Sam's just as angry as she is right now, but he's holding it in better than her, meanwhile Dean looks over at Y/N with a bit of pity.

________________________________

"Alright, so the names that dad gave us. They're all couples?" Sam asks Dean who is sitting shotgun while Sam's driving. Y/N is following closely behind on her bike. "There different couples, all went missing" Dean confirms, nodding. "And they're all from different towns? Different states?" Sam asks.

"That's right, yeah. Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross country. None of them arrived at their destination or were ever heard from again" Dean lists off the states, explaining the reports. "It's a big country, Dean. They could've disappeared anywhere" Sam tells him.

"Yeah. Could've" He exaggerates. "But each one's route took them through the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April, one year after another, after another" He tells him. "This is the second week of April" Sam points out. "Yep" Dean says.

"So dad and Mr. L/N are sending us to Indiana, to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?" Sam cocks his eyebrow. "Yahtzee" Dean responds. "Could you imagine putting together a pattern like this? The different obits they had to go through. They're masters" Dean says impressed and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Y/N's POV

Honestly I'm still pissed at the fact that they've run away to look for the thing that killed our moms without telling us. Finding out its apparently a demon and now they're sending us on a hunt. It's stupid! I guess karma is a bitch because I kinda did the same thing to my dad when I left but that doesn't make up for the fact that they're purposely avoiding.

Suddenly the boys pull over and I'm a bit confused by this but I pull over behind them. Taking my helmet off, I jump off of Quinn. I walk over to baby and knock on the drivers window. "What's going on?" I ask concerned as Sam rolls it down. He unlocked the backseat door and I jump in to see Sam with a serious look on his face and Dean a bit confused.

"We're not going to Indiana" Sam says dryly. "We're not?" Dean asks confused. "No, we're going to California. Dad called from a payphone. With a Sacramento area code" Sam says and I sigh. "Sam" Dean says warningly. "Dean, if this demon killed our moms and Jess. And our dads are closing in, we gotta be there. We gotta help" Sam tries to reason.

"They don't want our help" Dean retorts. "Well, I don't care" Sam argues. "He's given us an order. So has F/N" Dean presses. "I.Don't.Care" Sam says again, a bit more angrier and I sigh again. Oh boy, this isn't gonna end pretty. Dean looks at Sam not really surprised by his behavior.

"We don't always have to do what they say" Sam retorts. "Sam, they're asking us to work jobs. To save lives, it's important" Dean argues and Sam nods. "Alright I understand. Believe me, I understand. But I'm talking one week here, man. To get answers. To get revenge." Sam tries to reason and Dean sighs.

"Alright, look. I know how you feel-" Dean starts and Sam cuts him off. "Do you?" He snaps and Deans eyes widen, stunned by this. Sam chuckles dryly and humorously, "How old were you when mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel!" Sam asks grimly and Deans face drops. Oh, that's cold.

I grimace, trying to hold back my expression. "Come on, Sam. Don't be like that" I plead and he snaps his head at me. "Before you start on my case. Let's just do the job and we'll go back to looking for them. I agree with you 100% but it's not worth the headache" I try to make peace and he rolls his eyes.

"Dad said it wasn't safe, for any of us. They obviously know something that we don't! So if dad says to stay away, we stay away!" Dean argues and Sam shakes his head. "I don't understand the blind faith you have in them. I mean, it's like you don't even question them!" Sam yells frustrated. "Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Dean yells back angrily.

"Oh lord in heaven." I mutter to myself, he did not just say that. I facepalm at this and Sam like he's had enough. He opens the drivers door angrily while glaring at Dean and gets out of the Impala. "Nice going, hotshot" I growl at him in disappointment before getting out to see Sam at the trunk, taking out his bag. "Where're you going?" I ask him calmly.

"As far away as I can get from him" He says angrily and I cross my hands over my chest sighing. Dean gets out after and starts again, "You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" He says walking to the trunk. "You just do whatever you want, don't care what anybody thinks" Dean growls, getting up in Sams face.

"That's what you really think?" Sam asks ironically. "Yes it is" Dean retorts. I get in-between them and press the palms of my hands to both of their chests. "Okay, I am not having a repeat of summer 2000 when you broke Dean's arm and you broke Sam's nose. So can you please just back up and hash this out like adults!" I yell, lightly pushing the two of them apart.

"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California" Sam huffs, closing the trunk and starts walking off. "Come on, you're not serious" Dean says. "I am serious" Sam says still walking. "It's the middle of the night, Sam!" I call out for him, running after him. "Hey, I'm taking off with Y/N. We will leave your ass, you hear me?!" Dean yells and Sam turns around looking at him.

"That's what I want you to do!" Sam retorts and Dean looks at him stunned. "Goodbye Sam. You coming, Y/N?" He says angrily. "Give me a second" I say calmly. "We've gotta g- " He yells but I cut him off. "I said, give me a second!" I growl and he sighs, going to the drivers seat, giving Sam one last look before jumping in.

I turn to Sam, "Please" I plead and he shakes his head. "You're not changing my mind, Y/N" He says and I sigh, knowing he's made up his mind. "Okay, at least take my bike" I go to hand him my keys and he shakes his head. He takes my hand and closes the keys in the palm of my hand. "I'll be fine, okay?" He assures me.

"You can't hitchhike, it'll be safer if you take Quinn" I try to reason with him. "You and I both know, I am scared shitless riding her with you, much less by myself" He chuckles a bit and so do I. I sigh, nodding. "Be safe, Sammy. I love you." I give him a tight hug which he returns, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

"I will, y/n/n. I love you too. Take care of my stubborn brother, okay?" He says to me as we pull away, ruffling my hair like he always does. "I always will" I assure him. I throw my leg over my bike, straddling her and flickering my headlights twice.

Indicating to Dean that I ready. He starts his engine and I give Sam one last smile and nod, which he returns before snapping my helmet on. Dean drives off and I follow behind him.

________________________________

Burkitsville, Indiana

Dean and I finally make it to Indiana, he pulls over and I park behind him. I take my helmet off and turn off my engine, walking over to the drivers seat, I bend down to see him with his phone in his hand, his finger hovering over Sam's contact. I knock on his window and he rolls it down.

"You should call him" I say gently and he shakes his head and rolls back up him window, taking off his ignition and getting out. "Don't be stubborn, Dean" I press and he rolls his eyes. "I'm not stubborn. He made his choice" He says firmly and goes to walk off. "If you're gonna hardheaded about it, fine. Just at least admit you're worried. Because I am. We left him in the middle of nowhere!" I lecture and he turns back to me.

"Well maybe you should've gone with him!" He shouts back after turning to me and I chuckle dryly. "And leave your ass to stew? Come on, charming. I would've never left you like that" I say calmly and he sighs. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have yelled" He apologizes dropping his head and I wave it off.

"I'm not the one who's needs to hear that. But apology accepted" I say, patting his shoulder. I nod my head in the direction to the diner across the street saying "Scotty's Cafe" with a small smile, "How bout I buy you a piece of piece, huh?" I say cheekily and he gives me a small smile back. "I'd like that" He says softly and we walk up the porch.

We approach an older man who's sitting on the porch in one of the chairs alined infront and Dean flashes him a grin. "Let me guess, Scotty" He says and the man doesn't return the smile. He looks at the sign and back to us, "Yep" He responds dryly. "Hi, my name's John Bonham" Dean introduces himself using one of his aliases.

"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty recognizes the name and I chuckle a bit. Dean is taken back by this but quickly recovers, "Wow, good. A classic rock fan" He says a bit smugly, chuckling awkwardly. "What can I do for you and your girlfriend here, John?" Scotty asks us.

Dean clears his throat, pulling out the missing persons fliers from his jacket pocket. "Was wondering if, uh, you've seen these people, by chance" He asks, handing Scotty the flier. He has a look of recognition in his eyes but shakes his head. "Nope. Who are they?" He says plainly and I cock my eyebrow at this.

"Friend of ours, sir. They went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here and we've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem." I say feigning sadness, bowing my head and forcing tears to my eyes. Dean plays into my act and wraps his arm around my waist comfortingly.

"Don't worry baby, I'm sure this kind man would say if he saw them" He says soothingly, playing along as my heart skips a beat and he looks Scotty hopefully. "Sorry" Scotty says plainly, handing him back the fliers. "We don't get many strangers around here" He adds. Dean nods with fake smile.

"Scotty, you got a smile that lights up a room. Anybody ever tell you that?" Dean says wittily to Scotty who hasn't smiled yet. I hold back a snicker, keeping my sad act up. Scotty looks at him with a straight face and he chuckles. "Never mind. See you around" Dean says and we walk off.

"Raincheck on that pie?" Dean says, letting go of my waist. "Who are you? And what have you done to my fatass friend?" I gasp dramatically in mock shock and he rolls his eyes, flipping me off making me laugh.

________________________________

"You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?" Dean asks Stacy and Harley, an elder couple, but Stacy shakes her head. "Nope, don't remember them. You say they were friends of yours" Harley asks us, handing Dean back the missing persons fliers.

"That's right, sir" I respond. "Did the guy have a tattoo?" Emily, their niece, asks us as she's walking with a couple of boxes and resting it down on the counter, handing it to Stacy. "Yes, he did" Dean replies and Emily takes the fliers from him, scanning over it. "You remember? They were just married" She says to Harley.

Harley lightly gasps in recognition, which honestly seemed a bit overdramatic, "You're right they did stop for gas. Weren't here more than 10 minutes" He says. "Do you remember anything else?" Dean asks him. "Told them how to get to the interstate, they left town" Harley tells us.

"Could you point us in that same direction?" I ask him kindly. "Sure" He says and we both thank him after he gives us the directions before leaving. "Something seem off about them to you?" I ask Dean as we walk back to our vehicles. He turns to me, "This isn't one of your ESP thing, is it?" He chuckles a bit and I scoff annoyed.

"Forget it" I roll my eyes, walking back to my bike that's parks behind his. "Oh come on, princess. I was kidding!" He laughs and I nod my head. "I know!" I say back, straddling Quinn and putting my helmet on as Dean jumps in Baby and starts her ignition and we're off.

________________________________

Third Person POV

While driving over to where Harley directed them, Deans EMF meter starts going off in the back seat. "What the hell" He grumbles, reaching behind to grab it in his duffle. He honks his horn twice, indicting for Y/N to pull over. Y/N hears the honk and pulls over behind him.

She gets off of her bike and walks to the side of the Impala on the drivers side. "What's wr-" She goes to ask him but her sentence is cut short when she sees Dean with his EMF meter in his hand that's going off like crazy. They share a look before Dean gets out of his car and they walk into the Apple orchard they parked beside.

Y/N could feel a heaviness in the orchard as they walk around. Feeling like how that damn emf meter was going off is the best way she could put it. Y/N notices a scarecrow in the middle of the orchard, an immediate feeling of discomfort takes her over and she nudges Dean.

She points it out and they walk up to it, looking at it up and down. A nasty looking one that is, with a sickle in one hand. "Dude, you fugly" Dean snorts making Y/N chuckle. They both notice something in the scarecrows arm and share a look knowing look, "Not it!" They both exclaim.

"I'm not looking at that THING" Y/N exaggerates. "Neither am I!" Dean retorts. "Awww, are you scared?" She teases, knowing he'll crack. "Please, you're scared and you know it" He scoffs. Y/N puts up her fist and gives him a look, he looks at her fist knowing where she's getting at. "Really?" He narrows his eyes at her.

"Game on, Winchester" She smirks. "We're not kids, Y/N" He says in annoyance. "Bawk, bawkkk. Bawk, bawkkk!" Y/N starts imitating a chicken, flapping her arms, moving her neck and around like one, mocking Dean. "Real mature, L/N" He huffs, obliging, putting up his fist also. Y/N laughs at the fact that he's so easy to trigger. Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT.

They play, banging this fists against their palms, Dean hitting scissors and Y/N hitting rock. She snickers and he groans. "Dude, you gotta stop going scissors" She chuckles and he rolls his eyes. "Shut up" He groans annoyed. Grabbing a nearby ladder and climbing up tolook at the scarecrow.

"Don't be a sore loser darling" She scrunches her nose at him and he couldn't help but chuckle at how cute she looked. He gets up face to face with it, pulling aside the cloth on its left hand, to see a pattern that looks familiar. "Hey, you got the missing persons fliers?" He asks her from ontop the ladder.

"Yeah. One sec" She reaches into her leather jacket and pulls it out of the pocket inside, handing it to Dean. He takes it and opens it up. Vince Parker has the exact same tattoo on his left hand as the pattern on the scarecrows left hand. "Did you see something?" Y/N asks him. "Nice tat" Dean remarks to the scarecrow.

________________________________

Dean and Y/N go back to the gas station, Dean pulls up infront of a pump and Y/N parks her bike near. Dean jumps out of Baby and Y/N walks over to the Impala. "You guys are back" Emily says. "Never left" Y/N responds with a smile. "Still looking for your friends?" She asks them curiously.

"You mind filling her up there, uh, Emily?" Dean gestures to his car, noticing her nameplate necklace. She smiles and grabs the pump, sticking the pump in the fuel tank. "So, did you grow up here?" Y/N makes small talk."Came here when I was 13. I lost my parents. A car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in" She explains a bit sad.

"They're nice people" Dean compliments. "Everybody's nice here" Emily says with a smile. "So what, it's the, uh, perfect little town?" Y/N chuckles. "Well, you know, it's the boonies but I love it" Emily says smiling. "I mean, the towns around us. People are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it's almost like we're blessed" She says and they nod.

"Hey, you been out to the orchard? Seen that- That scarecrow" Dean asks her and she cringes a bit. "Yeah, it creeps me out" She says and they chuckle. "Who's is it?" Y/N asks causally. "I don't know, it's just always been there" Emily shakes her head. "That your aunt and uncles?" Dean nods towards the red van behind them.

Emily looks back at the vehicle, "Customer. Has some car troubles" She says and the two hunters share a look. "It's not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?" Y/N asks casually. "Mhm" Emily responds. She tells them that the couple are across at Scotty's getting food and go there immediately.

"Hiya, Scotty" Dean says plainly as he and Y/N enter, closing the door behind him. "Can I get two coffee, black and (your coffee order)" He says cheekily. He and Y/N take a seat right across from the couple, looking at them intently. Y/N notices the pie and remembers saying she'll buy a slice for Dean.

"Oh, and some of that pie too, while you're at it" She calls out to him, flashing Dean a wink who smiles back at her. They turn back to the couple who's table is filled with food, all kinds of dishes laid out. "How you doing? Just passing through" Dean makes small talk.

"Road trip" The young woman responds with a smile. Dean chuckles dryly and him and Y/N share a knowing look. "Yeah, us too actually" Y/N says. She quickly puts one of her rings on her right hand to her ring finger on her left, grabbing Dean's hand. "Just engaged, actually" Y/N shows the girl her ring and she gasps.

Dean is surprised at how quick she thought on her feet. "Oh, that must've cost him a fortune!" She smiles widely at Dean who plays along with the facade. "Only the best for my girl" Dean gives Y/N a loving gaze, a bit of heat raising to both of their cheeks. "I know how you feel, man" Her boyfriend adds, giving her a loving gaze also.

Scotty comes over and fills up both of their cups with juice, giving Dean and Y/N a quick side eye. "I'm sure these people wanna eat in peace" Scotty says a bit rudely. "Just a little friendly conversation" Y/N says with a smile. "Oh, and those coffees too, by the way, thanks" Dean adds and Y/N could tell Scotty is getting irritated.

"So, what brings you to town?" Dean asks curiously. "We just stopped for gas, and uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives" The girl explains and her boyfriend chuckles. Dean and Y/N grow suspicious of this. "Is that right?" Y/N asks curiously. "One of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He's fixing it for us." The young man explains.

"Nice people" Dean says ironically. "Yeah" The young man nods. "So how long until you're up and running?" Y/N asks. "Sundown" The man responds. Dean quirks his eyebrow at this, "Really? To fix a brake line?" He leans in closer. "Mhmm" The young man responds, clearly unaware at the actual severity.

"I mean. You know, he knows a thing or two about cars. Dean could probably have you up and running in an hour" Y/N gestures to Dean who nods. "Wouldn't charge ya" He adds and the couple grows a bit uncomfortable. "You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it" The girl says politely.

Dean and Y/N nods understanding at thi. "Sure, yeah" Dean smiles. "You know, it's just that these roads, um, they're not real safe at night" Y/N tries to reason. "Im sorry?" The girl asks confused. "I know it sounds strange, but, uh, you might be in danger" Dean adds and Y/N internally facepalms at this, rolling her eyes

The young man turns around, now irritated, "We're trying to eat, okay?" He says calmly. "Yeah" Dean says awkwardly and Y/N kicks him in his shin under the table. "Ow!" He grits his teeth, muttering in pain lowly, so they don't hear. "Real smooth, cowboy" She mutters at him, giving him a small glare.

"You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look and...you'd just buy right into it" Dean says with a sad smile on his face. Y/N felt a twinge of pity in her chest, knowing that Dean misses his little brother but is too stubborn to put it into words. She puts her hand on his comfortingly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb and gives him a small smile.

Which he returns, she nods at him reassuringly and the cafe door opens. "Thanks for coming, sheriff", Scotty says nicely to the man coming in. The two hunters shift in their seats, breaking their heated gaze. They see Scotty go over to the sheriff and whisper something to him, causing them to roll their eyes.

Knowing what's coming, the sheriff approaches them. "I'd like a word, please" He says roughly. "Come on, We're having a bad day already" Dean groans annoyed. The sheriff leans down onto the table, "You don't want to make it worse" He says in a low threatening manner. "Yes sir" Y/N says firmly, feigning a smile on her face.

________________________________

The police escorts Dean and Y/N out of Burkitsville right at the town border. Dean in his car and Y/N on her bike. As they pass the border, the police car makes a U turn and heads back into town. They stop off at a motel not too far from the border.

"So, we're going back aren't we?" Y/N asks, jumping into Baby that's parked in the parking lot. "You know it" Dean smirks at her. "Dean, we could get in a lot of trouble" Y/N says warily. Dean gives her a once over before he starts mimicking her earlier. "Bawk, bawwkkkk. Bawk, bawwkkkk" He starts flapping his arms, moving his neck and body like a chicken.

Exactly how Y/N was earlier in the orchard and she rolls her eyes groaning in annoyance. "Oh come on! I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass" She groans, chuckling a bit. As Dean continues to make the chicken noises, "Okay! Okay!" She gives in slapping his shoulder lightly for him to stop.

"Quit being an ass" She laughs as he rubs his shoulder smiling at the fact that he made her laugh. "I'm only going because we're gonna be saving people, so get off that high horse" She points her finger at him warningly as he smirks. "We gotta wait till before sundown though" He says and she nods. "I figured, gotta catch up with the couple" She says firmly. They wait for sundown and head back into town.

Y/N's POV

After being practically chased out of town, Dean and I head back to the orchard hopefully to catch up with the couple. We see the red van from earlier that belonged to the couple and park right behind it. We then head on over to his trunk to grab some guns. Our heads snap in the direction of the field when we hear a piercing scream that sounds coming from the orchard.

We share a look and quickly close the trunk, cocking our guns and running in. That's when I noticed the empty ply where the scarecrow was, "Dean!" I nod my head in the direction of the empty ply. "Holy shit, this is worse than we thought" He gasps. We hear another scream and run towards the direction of it to be met up with the couple from earlier.

Guns in our hands, they stop in their tracks. "Get back to your car" I command, the young man looks back and behind him is the scarecrow, alive and walking. "Go! Go!" Dean yells and they run past us. We cock our guns, aiming them in the direction of the scarecrow that's walking towards us and fire.

It barely does anything to him and we begin running. Shooting as we run. "Go! Go!" I shout to the couple. When we reach to the Impala, Dean and I cover them, aiming our guns at the field waiting for the scarecrow to come out but he doesn't. "Wh-what the hell was that?" The young man asks fearfully.

"Don't ask" I say quickly as they try to catch their breaths, our guns still aimed at the orchard.

________________________________

The next morning after getting the couple to safety and some sleep. Dean and I are at a empty diner across from the local college. I convinced Dean to call Sam, and now we're all on the phone, the phone on speaker but not too loud for anyone to hear. "The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" Sam asks in disbelief as I sip my coke.

"Yeah, I'm telling you. Burkitsville, Indiana. Fun town" Dean says sarcastically and I snicker, choking a bit on the coke. "It didn't kill the couple, did it?" Sam asks us concerned. "Nah, we can cope without you, you know" Dean says smugly and I roll my eyes. Yeah, sure. I shake my head. "So something must be animating it" Sam says.

"A spirit?" He suggests. "No, it's more than a spirit. It's a god. A pagan god, anyway" I tell him lowly, chewing on my bacon. Me and Dean talked about the possibility before calling Sam. "What makes you say that?" Sam asks. "The annual cycle of its killings. And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman like some kind of fertility rite" I explain and Dean nods.

"And you should see the locals man, the way they treated this couple. Fattening them up like a Christmas turkey" Dean adds and I grimace. "The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims" Sam says. "Yeah, we're thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god" Dean replies, eating his fries.

"So a god possesses the scarecrow-" Sam starts as I cut into my pancake. "And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won't wilt and disease won't spread" I finish his thought, taking a bite of my pancake. "You know which god you're dealing with?" Sam asks. "Nope, not yet" Dean replies as he sips his soda.

"Well, if you guys figure out what it is, you can figure out a way to kill it" He tells us. "Yeah, we know. We're actually across from a local community college. We've got an appointment with the professor. You know, since we don't have our trusty sidekick geek but to do all the research" Dean teases and we hear Sam chuckle over the phone.

I smile at this and Sam says, "You know, if you're hinting you guys need my help, just ask" Sam say and I nudge Deans shoulder, giving him a look that says 'Apologize asshat'. He shakes his head and says, "I'm not hinting anything" This man and his damn ego. I roll my eyes and kick his shin under the table.

He mutters an "Ow!" And gives me a glare. I feign an innocent look while sipping my coke and he clears his throat. "Actually...uh...I want you to know...." He struggles to say and I shake my head, hiding my chuckle. "I mean, don't think-" He stutters and Sam cuts him in. "Yeah, I'm sorry too" Sam says softly and I smile.

"Sam, you and Y/N were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life" Dean admits and I'm stunned by this. I'm so proud of him. "You serious?" Sam asks, equally shocked. "You've always known what you want, and you go after it. You stand up to Dad and you always have. Same with you too Y/N, you stuck it to F/N" Dean adds, chuckling a bit and so do I.

"Hell, I wish I-" He starts but cuts himself off and I frown at this. "Anyway, I admire that about both of you" He speaks to the both of us. "I'm proud of you Sammy. And you too y/n/n" He adds flashing me a wink and I smile softly, looking down at my nearly finished plate of food as my heart skips a beat. "I don't even know what to say" Sam says stunned.

"Yeah, me too" I say equally stunned and Dean smiles at me. "Say you'll take care of yourself" Dean says to him softly. "I will" Sam replies in the same tone. "Call us when you find our dads, okay?" I tell him through the phone. "Okay, bye guys" He says sadly and Dean hangs up the phone.

"Who knew he could be such a softie, charming?" I try to lighten the mood and he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Shut up, princess" He grumbles smiling, taking a sip of his soda. "I'm proud of you too, Dean" I tell him softly, resting my hand on his. He looks at my hand and then his eyes flicker back up to mine. A emotion that I can't quite pinpoint, swimming in his eyes.

"Thanks, Y/N" He says gratefully, almost as if no one has said that to him before. I notice that the ring I had on my hand earlier was still on my ring finger when I pretended to be engaged to him. I chuckle awkwardly. "Forgot about that" I say, putting it back on my right hand. I try to hide the heat that's rising to my chest and I notice a twinge of pink on his.

He clears his throat and I couldn't help but notice his eyes glance down at my lips quickly. My eyes dart to his also but I cover it up, taking a sip of my coke. The tension feels thick but maybe it's just on my part. "Where did you even get that anyway?" He nods towards my ring and I chuckle at the memory.

"Won it in a poker game. Guy bet more than he could pay forward and cashed in his ex's engagement ring. I meant to pawn it but I always thought it was too pretty to cash in" I explain, admiring the ring and he laughs. "You should keep it, it looks good on you" He compliments, gesturing to my hands that are filled with rings as he sips his soda.

I kinda have a ring obsession and collection. I hide the blush in my face, "I know right?" I say cockily, fanning myself with my hand dramatically and he scoffs chuckling at my smug expression. I smile and dig into my pocket to pull out a couple twenties to pay the bill, "I've got it" He tries to stop me from paying and I shake my head.

"I owed you that piece of pie, remember?" I remind him with a small smile which he returns. "You can cover me next time" I wink at him, picking up my jacket and putting it on. "You ready?" I ask him "Like Freddy" He replies and gets up, we walk to the doo he opens it for me, gesturing for me to walk out first and I gasp. "Such a gentleman" I add with a laugh. "Shut up" He retorts laughing, closing the door behind him.

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"It's not everyday I get a research question on Pagan idolatry" The professor says as we all walk down the stairs of the college and Dean chuckles. "Yeah, well, call it a hobby" He lies on spot. "But you said you were interested in local lord?" The professor asks us curiously. "Yes sir" I respond.

"I'm afraid Indiana isn't really known for its pagan worship" The professor informs us. "What if it was imported? Like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?" I ask curiously. "Yeah" The professor nods his head.

"Like that town near here, Burkitsville, where are their ancestors from?" Dean asks casually. "Uh...Northern Europe, I believe. Scandinavia" The professor replies. "What could you tell us about those pagan gods?" I ask and he chuckles. "Well, there are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses" The professor informs us

"We're actually looking for one. Might live in an orchard" Dean says. The professor leads us to his office and gets an old book leather covered he had on his bookshelf. He opened it and puts on his glasses. "A woods god. Well let's see" He says and begins flipping the pages. He then comes across one with a scarecrow on it, almost exactly like the one in Burkitsville.

Dean notices this and stops him from turning the page, "Wait wait wait. What's that one?" Dean asks him. "Oh, that's not a woods god, per se" He tells us, taking his glasses off. "The Vanir?" I read the name from the page, pointing at it, I look back up at him to make sure I'm pronouncing it correctly and he nods.

"The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity keeping the local settlements safe from harm. The villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice, one male and one female" I read off of the page and I look up at Dean. "Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?" Dean suggests, pointing to the printing of the scarecrow on the ply.

The professor looks at us a bit weirdly and nods, "Well, I suppose" He chuckles and Dean starts to read. "This particular Vanir, it's energy sprung from a sacred tree?" Dean questions. "Well, pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic" The professor tells us.

Dean and I share a look and I ask, "So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it's kill the god?...Hypothetically" I ask and the professor chuckles. "Dear, these are just legends we're discussing" He says and I nod smiling. "Oh, of course. Yeah you're right" Dean says smiling.

"Listen, thank you very much" I thank him, shaking his hand, I get a weird feeling when I do this. I narrow my eyes at the professor as Dean shakes his hand as well. "Glad I could help" He says. We go to go open the door but I turn around. "Hey professor? I can I ask you a something?" I asks him and Dean looks at me weirdly.

"Sure dear" He says sweetly. "Where are you from?" I ask him suspiciously and he looks speechless. Dean opens the door saying, "Y/N, we really need to-" But we're both cut off by the butt of a two guns being jammed in our faces harshly by two officers, that's the last thing I see before blacking out.

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I feel a throbbing pain in my head as my eyes flutter open. I wake to sound of someone calling my name in concern. "Y/N?! Y/N! Hey Princess wake up" I feel Dean shaking me. "Oh thank god, you're okay. I was afraid he knocked you too hard" He wraps his arm around me holding me tightly.

I return the hug and I hold my head groaning. He helps me and I look around to see we're in some sort of underground cellar with a door above us. "You know...you were right" I tell him and he looks at me confused. "About what?" He asks. "I should've gone with Sam" I retort holding my head again.

"Ha, ha. Very funny" He shoots back sarcastically, rolling his eyes and I chuckle a bit. "Where the hell are we?" I ask going to try and knock the top of the cellar door open. "I already tried that. It's locked with a chain and lock outside" He tells me and I slouch down next to him sighing.

"Just great." I mutter sarcastically and something comes to mind. "You think they're gonna sacrifice us instead?" Dean asks. "It seems so. They think we're engaged and if you've noticed" I gesture between the two of us. "We match their agenda" I say and he groans.

Something comes to mind and I think out loud, "Hey, that tree we saw in the book. You think it would be in the orchard?" I ask him. "It's possible" Dean says shrugging, suddenly the cellar door opens revealing Harley, Stacy and Scotty. Scotty pointing a shot thin at us, "It's time" Stacy says morbidly. Me and Dean look at each other nervously.

Sometime, later they tied me and Dean to two trees across from each other so we can't run. "How many people have you killed sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?" Dean probes them tauntingly as they tie him. "We don't kill them" The sheriff responds defensively. "No, but you sure cover up after!" I remark angrily.

"I mean how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?" I taunt and the sheriff doesn't respond, grabbing the shotgun, aiming it at us. "The good of the many, outweighs the good of the one" Stacy says sadly before they all walk off. "I hope your apple pie is freaking worth it!" Dean yells angrily at them as they walk off.

"Hey, you got that butterfly knife in your boot?" He asks me quickly. I shake my boot to feel for it and I groan in annoyance, "Those fuckers took my knife! Oh, it's on" I mutter angrily and Dean huffs. "So, what's the plan?" I turn to him. "I'm working on it" He groans.

Hours have passed, the crickets are chirping and the owls are hooting. We're still tied to the trees, "You don't have a plan, do you hotshot?" I grumble. "I'm working on it" Dean remarks lamely and I roll my eyes. "Can you see?" He asks me. "What?" I ask confused. "Is he moving yet?" He asks, talking about the scarecrow.

I try to look back but there's nothing in view, "I can't see" I tell him, shaking my head. Footsteps start to approach us and my heart starts beating out of my chest, "Oh my god, oh my god!" I start to panic. "Dean? Y/N?" We hear Sams voice and I let a breath out in relief. "Oh thank the good lord!" I exclaim in joy and Dean sighs in relief.

"Oh I take everything back, I'm so happy to see you" Dean says happily as Sam unties him. "How'd you get here?" Dean asks. "I, uh, stole a car" Sam stutters guiltily and we laugh. "Ha-ha-ha, That's our boy!" I exclaim proudly as he unties me. "Keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could be alive any minute" Dean tells him.

Sam looks back. "What scarecrow?" He asks and we shoot up from the ground, running to see the scarecrow is gone. We all exchange a look before bolting into action. "Alright, now this tree we saw in the book. It's the source of its power." Dean says. "So let's find it and burn it" Sam suggests as we run.

"Nah, in the morning. Let's just shag ass before Leatherface catches up" I tell them, but the sound of a gun cocking and lights shining in our faces stop us in our tracks. "Son of a bitch" I groan in annoyance as Harley and Stacy come into our views.

"This way" Dean pulls me to go the other way but Scotty is behind us with his own gun, cocking it at us. We go to run in the other direction but the sheriff is behind us with his gun. Some townspeople start surrounding us with their guns. Does everyone have a damn gun!?

Suddenly we hear growling that was exactly like the one from last night. "Please, just let us go" I plead. "It'll be over quickly" Harley says grimly. "Seriously man!" I yell. "You have to let him take you! You have to-" Harley starts to argue but then the sickle from the scarecrow comes protruding out his chest, causing Stacy to scream.

"Oh shit" Dean mutters lowly as Stacy screams and Harley drops to the ground, dead. The rest of them are stunned, dropping their guns, they run away in fear. The scarecrow grabs a screaming Stacy and sticks his sickle in Harleys knee and drags him away. "Come on, come on. Let's go!" Dean yells.

We run in the opposite direction to the edge of the field and look back, hearing the growling from the scarecrow.

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The next morning, after doing some research, Sam found that when the Pilgrims immigrated, they brought back a plant that's now a tree, called The First Tree. The locals worship it and respect it enough to write an article about it.

We all go back to the orchard after finding the picture of in an old newspaper. Sam has the accelerant in his hand and I have my lighter in mine. After looking around we find the tree that was marked with Vince's tattoo on it. Sam goes up to it and begins drenching it in the accelerant.

Dean then takes up a stick, pointing it in my direction. I click the lighter and start lighting the stick afire. "You know, the whole towns gonna die" Dean says, holding the burning stick. "Good, the amount of people that have died. They deserve it" I say grimly and he nods in agreement, throwing the stick at the tree, now burning aflame.

"The rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?" Sam asks as they watch the tree burn. "What will happen to the town will have to be punishment enough" Dean says grimly and Sam nods in agreement as we walk back to his car and my bike.

"So, can we drop you off somewhere?" Dean asks Sam and I frown. "No, I think you two are stuck with me" Sam says with a smile and we turn to him shocked. "What made you change your mind?" I ask him. "I didn't. I still wanna find our dad" He says. "And you're still a pain in the ass" He adds, nodding to Dean who smirks.

"But Jess, mom and Mr. L/N, they're gone" Sam says sadly and I look down. "Our dads are god knows where" He adds. "But us, we're all that's left. So, uh, if we're gonna see this through, we're all gonna do it together" He says heartfelt. "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful" I say dramatically, wrapping my arms around him and Dean puts his hand on his shoulder chuckling.

Sam scoffs rolling his eyes with a smile, pushing Dean hand off. He pushes me off lightly as we walk to out vehicles laughing. "You two should be kissing my ass. You guys were dead meat" He tells us smugly. "Yeah, right. I had a plan. I'd have gotten out" Dean retorts and I scoff.

"My ass, I can admit we were dead if Sam hadn't shown up" I say as we reach to the Impala. "Thank you!" Sam laughs. "Hey! You're supposed to be on my side" Dean exclaims defensively and I scrunch my nose up at him making him laugh.

We all jump in our vehicles and make way out of the town. I decided to tell them I'll drop my bike back at my Indiana safehouse since we're already here so I can save on gas later on. They didn't hesitate and after dropping her off, we hit the road.

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Authors Note: This chapter isn't edited so please excuse any mistakes. I tried adding a bit of fluff for Y/N and Dean in this episode since they were on the hunt by themselves for the most part. I hope you guys liked it! Let me know what you think, don't be shy <3

I'm super excited for the next episode!!

Xoxo

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