⋆⠀author's note & warnings: draft from my docs that i need to get rid of. smut (you/your), oral (fem. receiving), ruined orgasm, teasing, language. read more for #84.
In hindsight, maybe you should’ve told him no when he started pulling your sweatpants down with his hands so distractingly large. But Colston had that look in his eyes and you were only human.
“Cole, you’re gonna be late,” you murmured, even as you lifted your hips off the bed to help him. He made a noise vocalizing his disagreement with your objectively true statement before he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the crease where your leg met your hip. “Practice starts in an hour twenty,” you added, though your fingers were already twisting in his hair, square acrylic nails scraping his scalp as he settled between your thighs.
Colston hummed against your skin, breath warm where his mouth lingered just above your clit. “I got plenty of time,” he muttered. His thumb pressed against your entrance, rubbing slow circles just to watch your arousal collect on his skin. “Might get you to cum twice before it’s time.”
You arched against the sheets, toes curling over his shoulder as Colston’s tongue dragged a slow, torturous path up your slit. The intake of breath you meant to scold him with dissolved into a light moan halfway out.
“Colston—” you started, but his name fractured into a gasp when he sucked your clit between his lips, the vibration of another appreciative hum against your skin sending sparks up your spine. His hands pinned your hips down when you tried to grind against his mouth, forcing you to keep your hands in his hair.
Time slipped through your fingers. The alarm you set on his phone was nothing but a distant memory until it blared from the nightstand. Colston didn’t so much as pause, his tongue flicking faster, fingers crooking inside you just right. Your back bowed off the mattress, a wrecked sound tearing from your throat as pleasure coiled tight in your core. Then the alarm cut off. His phone clattered to the floor where he’d apparently swiped it blindly, and the absence of that rhythmic, delicious pressure made your whimper before you even registered he’d stopped.
You blinked up at the ceiling, still dazed, your thighs trembling where they bracketed Colston’s shoulders. “What the hell?” you managed, voice hoarse.
Colston wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing at the time on his phone screen before reaching down and tossing it onto the bed beside you. “Shit,” he muttered, already rolling off the mattress. He moved quickly, snatching his belongings from the dresser. “It’s almost 8.”
You groaned, lifting your palms to drag them down your face as Colston moved around your bedroom with the frantic energy of a man who absolutely was about to be late. “I fucking told you,” you said, voice muffled behind your hands.
Colston shot you a look over his shoulder, one hand juggling his keys, wallet, and a half-empty bottle of water. “Don’t start,” he warned, though there was no heat to it, just that rough, sleep-heavy rasp that worked you up and was now leaving you out to dry. His hair was still damp from the shower, and you watched, helpless, as a droplet rolled down the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his plain black tee.
You sat up on your elbows, scowling while you watched Colston scramble. His fingers fumbled with the drawstring of his shorts, and you couldn’t help the long, loud, frustrated groan that left your lips as you fell back against the bed.
Colston shot you another look, this time with his eyebrows raised as he yanked the string tight. “Baby…” he drawled out your name, approaching you for the last time to pick up his phone.
“No.” You pressed your thighs together, still aching, still wet, still so frustrated you could scream.
Colston’s fingers paused mid-air around his phone, his broad shoulders tensing as his eyes trailed over your half-naked body. The silence stretched long enough for you to hear the soft rustle of the sheets as you shifted beneath him. You could tell his brain was working, coming up with a plan. Considering how his last plan turned out, you weren’t too sure you would be willing to say yes.
One knee sank into the mattress beside your hip as he leaned down. His palm settled warm against your sternum, thumb brushing the hollow of your throat, and you swallowed hard when his breath ghosted over your lips.
“I don’t wanna leave you like this,” he murmured through the soft press of his lips to yours. His other hand slid down your belly, fingertips skating over the sensitive skin just above your pubic bone. “But I gotta go, mama.” His lips kissed down your neck. “You gonna let me touch you real quick, or you finna stay mad at me all day?”
His touch was warm, yet insanely light. “You’re so…” you breathed.
“You gonna come for me? Get it in real fast?”
“Colston you have to go,” you finally sighed, closing your thighs together and cutting off his access to you.
His hand lingered like he couldn’t bear to pull away completely. He didn’t want to leave, not like this. But the clock was ticking, and you watched the exact moment his sense of responsibility won out over desire.
Colston exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers flexing against your thigh like he was physically wrestling with the decision to leave. You watched the muscle in his jaw twitch, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “Fuck,” he muttered, lifting his hand to cup your jaw. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home. Swear on my life.”
“You better,” you muttered bitterly, tilting your head to accept the kiss he pressed to your temple. His fingers trailed down your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat before he finally pulled away. The bed shifted as he stood, the absence of his weight leaving the mattress depressingly cold.
The library of the bunker was quiet, the only sound being the rustling of old pages as Sam poured over a stack of lore books. His hair, which he’d been letting grow out over the past year, fell in thick, dark tracks around his face, completely obscuring his eyes as he leaned forward.
You walked up behind his chair, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. He let out a soft, contented hum at your touch, leaning back just a bit into your space.
"You know," you murmured, reaching up to run your fingers through the long, soft strands at the nape of his neck, "I'm really starting to love how long your hair is getting."
"Yeah?" Sam asked, his voice low and a little tired from hours of reading. He tilted his head back to look up at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Dean keeps telling me I need a haircut."
"Don't listen to him," you smiled, gently gathering a thick handful of the long strands in your palm. You leaned down a bit closer, a playful spark in your eye. "I like having something I can pull on."
To emphasize your point, you gave a firm, deliberate tug backward.
You expected a laugh, or maybe a playful tease, but instead, a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped the back of Sam's throat. His entire frame went completely rigid under your hands, his breath hitching loudly in the quiet room.
For a second, nobody moved. Then, a dark, deep flush immediately crept up Sam's neck, rapidly spreading to the tips of his ears and flooding his cheeks. He hurriedly pulled away from your grip, burying his face in his hands as he stared down at the table, looking incredibly flustered.
"Sammy?" you asked softly, leaning around the chair to catch his eye. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he mumbled, his voice suddenly sounding a lot breathless and entirely stripped of his usual composure. He refused to look up at you, his large shoulders hunching forward as if he could somehow shrink himself. "Just... caught me off guard."
Amused and completely captivated by his reaction, you gently reached down to pry one of his hands away from his face. "Did you like that, hm?"
Sam swallowed hard, his hazel eyes darting to yours for a split second before looking away again, the blush on his face deepening. He let out a tiny, embarrassed nod, a quiet admission that the giant hunter had a surprisingly soft, submissive streak when it came to you.
"Okay," you whispered fondly, stepping around the chair to pull his head against your hip, smoothing down the hair you had just messed up. "Good to know."
bf!sam who refuses to go to be without a good night kiss
Leaving the bathroom, you hummed a quiet tune as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom. Walking in, you found Sam sitting up against the headboard, lazily scrolling through his phone.
He perked up at the sound of your footsteps, his broad shoulders instantly relaxing at the sight of you clad in your soft pajamas. Without a word, he set his phone down on the bedside table and shifted his massive frame over, lifting the heavy duvet to create a perfect space for you.
"Took you long enough," he grumbled softly, though the faint, amused smile on his lips completely gave away his affection.
Giggling, you dove for the bed, instantly sliding under the warm blankets to curl right up beside him. You let out a content sigh, lazily wrapping your arms around his broad chest and nuzzling your cheek against his warm bicep. In return, Sam cuddled back immediately, his long arms wrapping securely around your smaller frame to gently cradle you against him.
"Night, Sammy," you murmured, closing your eyes as you prepared to drift off.
There was a pause. Then, complete silence.
Your brows furrowed slightly. Usually, he'd give you a groggy reply, or kiss the top of your head, or at least let out a sleepy hum. Opening your eyes curiously, you looked up to find his hazel eyes staring right back at you, slightly narrowed, his lips faintly tugged down into a small pout.
You blinked up at him, a bit amused. "Sam? What's wrong?"
"You're forgetting something, sweetheart," he murmured, his grip tightening just a fraction around your waist, anchoring you to his chest. He didn't move an inch, looking down at you with a stubborn, completely devoted look that made it clear he wasn't planning on letting you sleep just yet.
A fond smile broke across your face as you realized he was holding out. "Are you seriously refusing to go to sleep without your goodnight kiss?"
"I am," Sam admitted without a shred of hesitation, a soft, boyish honesty in his voice. He nudged his chin down, leaning close enough that his breath fanned over your lips. "No kiss, no sleep. That's the rule."
Shaking your head at how easily the giant hunter melted into a soft, clingy mess behind closed doors, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his. Sam let out a contented sigh against your mouth, deeply consuming the kiss and holding you tight, completely satisfied now that his favorite nightly ritual was complete.
Madison lay tangled in the sheets, the soft glow of early morning light brushing against her bare shoulder. The space beside her was warm, a lingering echo of the night before. Sam had been different this time. Quieter. Gentle, like he was holding on just a little too tight.
She blinked sleep from her eyes and reached over—only to find the space empty.
Not again.
A part of her had prepared for this. She always did, whether she admitted it or not. Because Sam Winchester never stayed. He was like smoke—impossible to hold, no matter how close you got.
The sound of rustling came from the living room. Madison pulled on one of his flannels, her feet cold against the wooden floor as she stepped out.
He was standing by the door, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, eyes downcast.
“Sam,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.
He turned, startled—but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he’d hoped she’d sleep through it. Maybe he wanted to avoid this part.
She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly aware of the ache blooming in her chest. “You’re leaving again.”
Sam’s throat bobbed. “Yeah.”
“For how long this time?”
He looked away. “I… I don’t know.”
Her laugh was dry. Bitter. “You never do.”
He stepped forward, guilt written in the lines of his face. “Maddie, I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you did.” She met his gaze, dark eyes locking onto his hazel ones. “Every time you disappear, I wait. I tell myself there’s a reason, that you’ll explain it, that it’s not what it looks like.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Silence settled thick between them.
“I thought this time was different,” she whispered. “You said you wanted to build something with me. You talked about maybe getting a place, about not running anymore.”
Sam flinched. “I did want that. I still do. But—”
“There’s always a ‘but’ with you, Sam.”
He stepped back like her words were bullets. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Then tell me,” she pleaded. “God, just tell me the truth for once. Whatever it is, I can take it.”
He hesitated, hand gripping the strap of his bag like it was a lifeline. “It’s not that simple.”
She blinked back the sting in her eyes. “Do you love me?”
The words hovered in the air. He didn’t answer right away.
“I do.” It broke out of him, raw and real. “I love you so damn much, Madison.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
His jaw tightened. He looked like he was holding back an ocean.
“Because if I stay, people get hurt.”
Madison stepped forward, fury simmering beneath her skin. “You think this doesn’t hurt?” she asked, voice cracking. “You think walking out without an explanation—without letting me in—is somehow safer?”
Sam looked like he was falling apart right in front of her, but he didn’t move. Didn’t close the space between them.
“I can’t tell you what I do. I can’t tell you why I leave. All I can say is… it’s not about you.”
“But it always feels like it is.” She exhaled sharply. “What is it, Sam? What’s so important that you keep choosing it over me?”
He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were rimmed with regret.
“It’s family,” he said quietly. “It’ll always be family over me. Over everything.”
Her heart cracked. Not because he didn’t love her—but because he did. And it still wasn’t enough.
They stood in silence. He looked like he wanted to kiss her, to say something else, but instead he turned.
“Goodbye, Madison.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Madison sank to her knees in the middle of the living room, Sam’s flannel still hanging off her shoulders like a ghost of something that could’ve been.
She didn’t cry. Not right away.
But when the tears finally came, they didn’t stop.
Because love wasn’t always enough.
And this time, she knew—Sam Winchester was never coming back.
He told himself not to look back.
Not at the door. Not at the apartment building that still smelled like her lavender candles and vanilla lotion. Not at the window where she’d sometimes sit and read, legs tucked under her, sunlight catching the golden undertones of her brown skin.
He knew if he looked, he’d go back. And he couldn’t afford to.
Not this time.
Sam gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary as he drove into the night, headlights cutting through the dark like it owed him something. Dean had texted hours ago—coordinates, a possible hunt. Just like always.
And like always, Sam answered the call.
But this time, it cost him Madison.
God, he didn’t mean to fall for her again. He thought he could stop it, keep her at arm’s length, keep her safe. But she had that smile. That laugh. That fierce way she loved—wholehearted and without apology.
And Sam? He was just a shadow of a man trying to hold onto something good.
He remembered her hand in his the night before, soft and sure. The way she whispered his name like it meant something sacred. She didn’t know the truth, not really. She didn’t know about the monsters, the blood, the nights he couldn’t sleep because of what he’d seen, what he’d done.
He kept it from her to protect her.
But maybe it had always been more about protecting himself.
Because once Madison knew the truth, she wouldn’t look at him the same way.
Sam Winchester: murderer of monsters, liar, nomad. A man who brought danger wherever he went.
And still—he’d almost stayed.
God help him, he’d unpacked his bag that first night back. Put his toothbrush in her bathroom. Bought groceries with her. Slept in her bed like a man who believed he deserved peace.
And for a second, just a second, he let himself pretend.
But then Dean called. And Sam remembered what he was. What they were. The life he could never outrun.
And when Madison asked if he loved her, it almost broke him.
He did. He still did. And that was the worst part.
He pulled off the road somewhere in Colorado. A gas station parking lot. Deserted. Quiet. He killed the engine, leaned back in the seat, and stared at the roof.
Her voice echoed in his head.
“Do you love me?”
“Then why are you leaving?”
Because I don’t know how to stay. Because I don’t deserve you. Because if you knew what I really was, you’d hate me.
His chest ached like something had split open.
He took out his phone. Looked at her contact. “Madison.” No heart, no emoji. Just her name. Clean and simple.
He hovered over the call button.
Don’t.
If you call her, you’ll go back. And if you go back, she’ll get pulled into this life. And then it won’t just be you who pays for it.
He threw the phone into the passenger seat, gripping the wheel again like he could squeeze the pain out of his bones.
Sam had made his choice.
Madison deserved soft mornings and someone who stayed. Someone who didn’t carry guilt in his bloodstream and death in his wake. Someone who didn’t lie with every silence.
He gave her up because he loved her.
And because he was a coward.
Back at the motel, Dean barely looked up from the lore book when Sam walked in.
“You tell her goodbye?” he asked.
Sam didn’t answer.
Dean glanced up, softened just a little. “You okay?”
Sam dropped the duffel by the wall and sat on the edge of the bed like his body had aged a hundred years. “No.”
Dean nodded. “Figured.”
They sat in silence for a while. The only sound was the rustle of pages and the hum of the motel fridge.
“She didn’t know anything,” Sam said eventually. “Not about hunting. Not about me.”
Dean looked over. “And that’s a bad thing?”
Sam shook his head slowly. “No. That’s what made it real.”
Dean didn’t say anything for a while. Just closed the book and leaned forward.
“You think she would’ve stayed if she knew?”
“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But I didn’t give her the chance to decide.”
Dean exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “You did what you had to. We don’t get to have that life, Sammy. Not the white picket fence. Not the quiet love story.”
“I know.”
But just because he knew didn’t mean it hurt any less.
Sam lay awake most of that night.
In his mind, she was still standing in the doorway, wearing his flannel, begging him to stay.
prompt: ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜
with Jim Halpert <3.
i need some hurt/comfort with good ol’ jimbo
𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐊 (warnings. mentions of suicide and depression.)
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” “She was a great woman.” “I couldn’t imagine what your going through.” Those sentences were repeating over and over again in Y/N’s head. All day during her late mom’s, M/N, funeral. Y/N loved her mom. Her mom was a single mother but she did everything that she could for her daughter to give her the life that she never did.
When Y/N got the life changing call, she was at her best friend Jim’s house, they were watching a horror film on Netflix. Jim could tell by the S/C woman that whatever it is the other person on the other side of the phone was saying wasn’t anything good.
That night when Y/N got home, she cried. She cried herself to sleep that night. She stayed home for the next few days. Not going out for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. The 27-year old spent her day looking through old memories of her and her mom throughout the years.
The rest of the week Y/N stayed home cooped up in her bed. She was depressed, she loved her mom and now that she was gone, Y/N had no one. Jim however noticed Y/N’s absence.
“Dwight, have you seen Y/N?” Jim asked quietly. Dwight looked over a Jim with a shrug. “She’s at home.” Jim looked at Dwight silently telling him to continue. “Doing what Dwight?”
The male co-worker looked at Jim with a ‘bitch’ look. “How am I supposed to know Jim? Last thing i heard from her was that her mom passed and she’s taking some time off.” at those words, Jim finally realized why she was absent. Jim knew the relationship between Y/N and her mom. he knew how much she meant to her.
Y/N laid in her bed crying for what felt like the 100th time today. She hadn’t move for hours , at this point her thighs were starting to hurt from not moving.
Jim walked in to Y/N’s apartment. She had given him a spare key when she went out of town to watch her fish and never took it back. Not that Jim would’ve given it back anyway. The apartment was dark, all the blinds were drawn and there was stench. Like death. Jim walked towards Y/N’s room opening the door slightly.
Y/N didn’t hear Jim come in. She couldn’t hear anything, she was too out of it.
“Oh, Y/N..” Jim whispered once he caught sight of the distraught woman curled up in bed. Speaking of, she turned towards Jim teary eyed. “Jim.” She whispered out getting up wrapping her arms around his neck crying. Jim reciprocated the hug.
“I heard what happened from Dwight, I’m so sorry Y/N.” He tightly wrapped his arms around her.
“What are you doing here Jim?” Y/N asked burying her face into his shoulder. “I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.”
jim halpert x reader
(A/N: sorry this took so long ml’s! i’ve been genuinely very out of it lately but i had to push through it to get this out, i hope you guys enjoy it. i know it’s not best but once i get back into my grove i’ll edit it but for now i love you💗!)
cw: 0.7k word, slight age gap, afab!reader, crushing, jim is a tease and a little pervy, kissing, implied smut, r is 21 years old MDNI 18+
JIM HALPERT would tease the living shit out of the new intern who works under him because he knows you have the biggest crush on him. the jokes all consist of same fact—you being younger than him. he’ll call you kid and baby, asking if you’re even old enough to drink, call out the age gap, but it’s not in a bully way. its like borderline flirting. he does it because he likes to see the uncomfortable furrow of your brow and the slight pout of your lip and the voice you use when you say, “but i’m only 5 years younger…you’re making me seem younger than i am.” but that never makes him stop. however?you don’t hate it. as much as you’d like for him to ignore the slight age-gap, you love the attention he gives you. even if it’s humiliating and even if your other coworkers have joined in, at least he’ll flash you that smirk that makes your brain fuzzy and your legs wobbly. the jokes were like a diversion, making it seem like he was totally put off by the fact you were just out of college, because jim would definitely not be into such a young girl. that’s a little hard to believe because somehow he always finds a way to touch your arm or get in a good look at your pencil skirt covered ass and peek down your shirt that was almost too low for the workplace.
jim had got a chance to keep you in the office an extra hour after everyone went home and tease you a little more, but making the topics more and more suggestive as the very flirtatious conversation went on. the flirting was mostly jim since you had not a clue on how flirting worked, and you were far too nervous to produce any witty, sexy responses without making a fool out of yourself. it was hard to talk when it felt like you were being suffocated but the still air in the dimly lit office, the only source of the light being a couple of desk lamps and the light post outside. and the lack of distance between your office chairs made your throat tighten. the side of the shoe's sole was touching your ankle, slowly moving up and down as he smiled at you, shamelessly letting his eyes gaze down your body, stop at your tits and back up to your warm face. then, he dipped his head down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. making you still with shock, but you're not going to miss out on this opportunity, so you kissed him back.
his big hand lifted up to cradle on your jaw as he traced your cheek with the calloused fingerprint of his thumb. there was a small bit of anxiety that you had because of the fear that your mouth tastes like coffee and that he was grossed out, but your nerves were put to rest once he groaned into your mouth and pulled you closer, twisting to deepen the kiss and nudging his noise against yours. awkwardly, your hands stayed by yourself, squeezing on the cushion so hard that it's going to burst. you don't know where to put them. on his thighs? on his face? or just keep them where they are, but your overthinking was put to a stop when jim pulled away to say "god...you're lips are so soft. didn’t expect you to be such a good kisser…”
if it was anyone else you'd take offense to the backhanded compliment, but it made you swallow thickly. his voice was extra low and husky, making you squeeze your thighs together absentmindedly. "thanks..." you muttered in a meekish manner, eyes never leaving his as you notice how dark they've gotten, and the cause was certainly not the lack of the light in the office. it was you. the lust was so potent you were sure it was going to stain your mind. then he leaned back to press a soft and slow kiss on your cheek, and whispered in your ear with a light chuckle at the end of his sentence that made your heart thump. "lets go somewhere. unless you want me to fuck you in your office chair."
this blog is 18+, do not copy my work for anything without my permission ꔫ / most dividers by @/chrisssiren & @/cursed-carmine
jim halpert is the kind of man who doesn’t stop until you’re breathless and clinging to his tie like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.
your thighs shook where they framed jim’s lap, his free hand braced on your hip while the other worked between your legs, fingers deep and slow and soaked.
you gasped, voice trembling as you moaned his name, breath hot against his neck. “jim- fuck- ”
his mouth twitched into a grin you couldn’t see, his fingers curling just right inside you, and he felt it - how wet you were, how the slick clung to his skin. creamy and warm, trailing down his knuckles and forearm in lazy, obscene drips.
“yeah?” he murmured, his voice low, smug, deliciously soft in your ear. “you like that, baby?”
you whimpered, hips rolling down onto his hand, your panties long pushed to the side, his old college t-shirt sticking to your back where you sweated through it. “mhm,” you managed, barely coherent. “so good- jim, i’m-”
he kissed the edge of your jaw, breath warm. “you’re fucking soaking me.”
you felt it, the mess you were making of him, dripping down his wrist, your body clenching greedily around his fingers with every slow thrust. and he didn’t stop. he kept watching your face, lips parted, flushed and glassy-eyed, like you were the only thing in the world worth staring at.
“just like that,” he whispered, fingers pressing deeper, “give it to me, sweetheart. let me feel you.”
your hand shot out blindly, catching the loosened knot of his tie and tugging - just enough to steady yourself, to pull him in closer, like your body was trying to anchor itself to him while his fingers wrecked you.
he was still in his work clothes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dress shirt slightly rumpled from hours at his desk - and now completely undone from watching you fall apart in his lap. his tie hung loosely around his neck, cool silk clenched tight in your fist as your hips jerked forward with another wave of slick heat.
jim’s leather watch gleamed under the soft bedroom light, but the shine was dulled now by the creamy slick that coated his wrist. it trailed down his forearm, catching in the notches of muscle, his knuckles drenched in your mess. he groaned when he looked down at it.
“look what you’re doing to me,” he muttered, almost dazed, like he couldn’t believe it. his fingers stayed buried inside you, slow and purposeful, dragging against that spot that had your back arching and your thighs trembling. “fucking dripping all over me, baby.”
you couldn’t speak - just nodded, clung tighter to his tie, chest heaving. every curl of his fingers made your eyes flutter, your jaw slack with quiet, ruined sounds.
he leaned in, mouth brushing yours but not quite kissing, his breath catching. “you always get this wet for me?”
you nodded again, helpless, desperate. “always. just you.”
that made something flicker in him - low and rough and needy. his hand flexed on your hip, his tie clutched tighter in your grip, the weight of him still fully clothed against your bare thighs, warm and solid. his fingers moved a little faster now, the wet sounds obscene between your thighs, your body grinding down to meet every thrust.
and he watched you - like you were the only thing in the world he wanted to see come undone.
❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜ with jim halpert PLEASEEEE
𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 (warnings. none. purely fluff!)
“No, Y/N we’re not going to that stupid Marvel comic convention! We do it every year.” Jim spoke to his wife as they walked into their job this morning.
Y/N and Jim met at their job eight years ago when she started out as a sales rep. It was her first big girl corporate job and she was nervous but thanks to Jim, she felt comfortable working there.
“But baby, I thought you loved the comic convention!” She whined quietly as she sat her purse down on her chair. Jim shook his head smirking a bit but still trying to stay firm.
“No, that’s you that loves those comic cons.” He rebutted. Y/N pouted as she shrugged sadly taking a seat deciding to leave the subject for right now.
All throughout the day, Y/N kept begging Jim to take her to the comic con. From the emails to the hint dropping, she couldn’t stop. She was determined to win this battle one way or another.
Speaking of the Halpert wife, she sat at her desk that was placed next to her husband’s. She glanced over to her husband who was looking at something on his computer, most likely writing an email, she smiled to herself as she softly kicked him trying to get his attention.
Once he looked up, she smirked at him then gave him the best puppy dog eyes she could. Jim looked at her with a face, an all knowing one.
“Nope, nu-uh. Puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work this time.”
background: after colston needs a cut before an important wedding, he gets recommended to y/n and he never will regret it.
(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)
word count: 3.8k
notes: i cant wait for pt1 of this! the series guide is linked here! its a short part but theres so many other parts to come! want to join the taglist? comment asking or quote repost to be added or send a ask in my inbox (asking me) or to be removed please send a ask in my inbox! i dont bite
warning: this is a alternative universe, colston being down bad
The second Colston found out that one of his old Michigan teammates was finally getting married, his first thought was that he was genuinely happy for him.
His second thought was that he looked absolutely terrible.
Not terrible in a dramatic way. Not “homeless man under an overpass” terrible. But terrible in the very specific way athletes looked after being burrowed in his home right before OTA's.
His fade had grown out unevenly around the edges, the back of his hair was doing something strange every morning, and the dryness in the front had gotten so bad it practically stood up on its own like static got to it.
And this was not just any wedding.
This was JJ Mccarthy and his fianceè Katya’s wedding.
California.
Black tie.
A bunch of Michigan alumni.
NFL players.
Photographers.
Instagram stories.
The kind of event where one bad haircut lived online forever.
So naturally, Colston was standing in the locker room one afternoon staring into his phone camera with pure disgust while turning his head side to side.
“Nah,” he muttered. “This is badd.”
Across from him, Caleb Williams looked up from tying his cleats.
“You talking to yourself again?”
Colston angled the phone toward him. “Look at this.”
Caleb stared for two seconds.
Then immediately started laughing.
“Oh, you sick.”
“Be serious.”
“I am serious. You got helmet hair permanently attached to your skull.”
Colston threw a towel at him.
“I gotta leave for California in like two days.”
“For JJ’s wedding?”
“Yeah.”
Caleb nodded slowly, still grinning. “Okay, yeah. You can’t go lookin’ like that.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Caleb leaned back against the locker with the expression of somebody about to make a very bad decision.
“I got somebody.”
Colston narrowed his eyes instantly. “No.”
“What you mean no? You don’t even know who I’m talking about.”
“Because every time you say ‘I got somebody,’ it turns into a disaster.”
“This one different.”
“Mhm.”
Caleb pointed at him dramatically. “My homegirl cuts hair. Braids too. If you got hair, she can do something with it.”
“I don’t need braids.”
“I know that. I’m just saying she versatile.”
Colston still looked unconvinced.
Caleb continued anyway.
“She got her own private suite downtown. Appointment-only type setup. Real fancy. She hard to get in with though.”
“How hard?”
“She booked for like three weeks.”
Colston groaned immediately.
“But…” Caleb dragged the word out with a smirk. “I could probably convince her to fit you in if I take you.”
Colston stared at him.
“You acting like you introducing me to the president.”
“I’m serious. She don’t play about her schedule.”
“So why would she squeeze me in?”
Caleb shrugged. “Money.”
“That’s honest at least.”
“And because I’m me.”
“That part I don’t believe.”
Caleb laughed loudly. “Man shut up.”
By the next afternoon, Colston found himself sitting in the passenger seat of Caleb’s matte black SUV heading toward downtown Chicago while regretting every decision that had led him there.
The city was gray from an earlier drizzle, the streets glossy with rainwater reflecting storefront lights and traffic signals. Caleb drove one-handed through traffic like he owned the entire road, music low through the speakers while Colston kept checking the time on his phone.
“You nervous over a haircut?” Caleb asked.
“I’m nervous because you hyped this woman up like she finna perform surgery.”
“She basically do.”
“That don’t even make sense.”
Caleb smirked but didn’t answer.
Eventually they turned into one of those expensive downtown parking garages connected to luxury buildings with offices on lower floors, boutiques in the middle, private studios and salons higher up. The kind of building with dim warm lighting and concrete walls so clean they barely looked real.
As soon as they parked, Caleb pointed at him.
“Act normal.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means don’t walk in there acting weird.”
“I’m literally getting a haircut.”
“She can smell weird energy.”
Colston blinked slowly. “You sound insane.”
They rode the elevator up several floors until the doors opened into a quieter hallway lined with frosted glass suites and minimalist gold signage.
Everything smelled expensive.
The suite Caleb stopped at had soft lighting spilling through the frosted glass beside the door, and in elegant lettering across the front it read ‘Relax Theory Studio.’
Colston glanced over.
“That sound like somewhere people cry after divorces.”
Caleb snorted before pushing the door open.
The first thing Colston noticed was the music.
Soft R&B floated through hidden speakers at just the right volume, enough to hear but not enough to interrupt conversation. The suite itself was ridiculously calmin with floating shelves lined with products organized perfectly.
A coffee station in the corner. Huge mirrors with soft backlighting. One styling chair near the front and another farther back near the shampoo bowls. And standing near one of the counters organizing clippers was Y/N Y/LN.
Colston noticed her before she even looked up.
Alo zip up sweatshirt over a black tank top. Gold jewelry catching under the warm lights. Nails glossy. Hair pulled back effortlessly. One of those people that looked put together without seeming like they tried too hard.
She glanced up.
Saw Caleb.
And immediately pointed at him.
“Aht aht.”
Caleb started laughing instantly.
“Nope,” she said. “Absolutely not. I’m not fitting you in again, Caleb.”
“I brought somebody important.”
“You said that last time, and it was literally your cousin.”
“He was important to me.”
She rolled her eyes.
Then her gaze shifted toward Colston.
And paused for half a second.
Not dramatic.
Not obvious.
But enough for him to notice.
Caleb grinned immediately like an instigator sensing blood in the water.
“This Colston.”
“I know who he is,” she said casually.
Something about hearing that made Colston straighten up a little.
Caleb looked between them with way too much amusement.
“See? We already got chemistry.”
“Please leave,” Y/N deadpanned.
Caleb ignored her entirely. “He got JJ’’s wedding in California and look at his hair.”
“Yo.”
She stepped closer before Colston could defend himself, tilting her head slightly while examining him with the focus of an artist staring at a crooked painting.
And then she sighed.
“Your hair is dry, Colston.”
The way she said it was so disappointed it almost embarrassed him.
“I know.”
“No, like dry dry...”
Caleb burst out laughing behind him.
Y/N pointed toward the chair.
“Get in.”
Colston sat while Caleb wandered around the suite touching random things until Y/N threatened him twice.
Eventually she draped the cape around Colston’s shoulders, fingers brushing briefly against the back of his neck while fastening it.
“You use conditioner?”
“Yes.”
She gave him a look in the mirror.
“Be honest.”
“Sometimes.”
“Mhm.”
Caleb nearly folded over laughing again.
“This why I don’t invite you places,” Colston muttered.
Y/N shook her head while gently pushing his hair around.
“It’s not horrible,” she admitted. “It’s just thirsty.”
“That sounds disrespectful.”
“It is.”
The conversation flowed easier than Colston expected after that.
Too easy, honestly.
Usually haircuts felt awkward. Either silence or forced conversation. But Y/N talked naturally while working, moving around him with calm confidence that made the entire suite feel slower somehow.
She asked about California.
About the wedding.
About Michigan.
And when he mentioned how long he’d known JJ, her expression softened slightly.
“That’s actually sweet.”
“What?”
“You going all the way out there and stressing over a haircut for your friend’s wedding.”
“I’m not stressing.”
“You checked your reflection in my mirror four times already.”
Caleb pointed dramatically from the couch. “Cook him.”
Colston glared at him.
Eventually Y/N guided him toward the shampoo bowls in the back.
“Come on. We gotta save your scalp.”
“You make it sound tragic.”
“It is tragic.”
The shampoo area was somehow even calmer than the rest of the suite. Dimmer lighting. Warm towels stacked nearby. The faint sound of water running somewhere.
As soon as Colston leaned back into the chair, he realized he understood why Caleb hyped this place up so much.
The water temperature was perfect.
Not too hot.
Not too cold.
And when Y/N’s fingers finally worked into his hair, Colston nearly lost his train of thought entirely.
She scrubbed his scalp thoroughly, nails lightly dragging against his skin in slow circular motions while working shampoo through his hair.
It should not have felt that relaxing.
At all.
But after weeks of helmets, sweat, workouts, and constant movement, it practically felt therapeutic.
“You got tension bad,” she murmured.
“Hm?”
“Your scalp tight.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Yes.”
“You judging my scalp now?”
“I’m judging everything.”
He laughed quietly despite himself.
His hair, wet now, flattened briefly before sticking up again in random directions the second she worked product through it. Short straight pieces poked everywhere, no matter what she did.
Y/N smiled.
“Your hair doesn’t know what it wanna do.”
“That makes two of us.”
She looked down at him for a second after that comment, and Colston hated how fast his chest reacted to it, because Caleb leaving halfway through somehow made everything worse.
The second his phone rang, he stood dramatically.
“Aight I gotta go.”
Colston looked up immediately. “You’re leaving?”
“Yep.”
“You brought me here.”
“And now you safe.”
Y/N pointed toward the door. “Bye Caleb.”
“See how I’m treated?” he complained while grabbing his keys.
Neither of them answered.
A minute later the door shut behind him, leaving only the quiet music and the sound of water running softly in the background.
And somehow that silence felt different immediately.
“So,” she said casually, “you nervous for the wedding?”
“Nah.”
“You lying again.”
He opened one eye.
“Why you keep calling me out?”
“Because you got nervous energy.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
By the time Y/N finished rinsing the conditioner from Colston’s hair and guided him back toward the styling chair, the entire atmosphere of the suite had shifted into something dangerously comfortable.
That was the problem.
Nothing felt forced around her.
Not the conversation.
Not the silence.
Not even the way she moved around him with one hand lightly touching his shoulder to turn him toward the mirror while she plugged in the blow dryer.
Most people around NFL players acted one of two ways, either overly impressed or overly uninterested trying to prove they didn’t care and Y/N somehow did neither. She talked to Colston like he was just another client in her chair, even while lightly roasting him every five minutes.
And unfortunately for him, it was working.
Way too well.
The warm air from the dryer pushed through his hair while she worked a brush through it carefully, sectioning the short straight strands with practiced ease. His hair puffed out slightly under the heat before settling softer than it had looked all month.
“You see?” she said. “Hydration, a basic concept.”
Colston smirked a little. “You really been judging me since I walked in.”
“Because you came in here struggling.”
“I was not struggling.”
“You were one gust of wind away from looking electrocuted.”
He laughed under his breath while she continued drying his hair, fingers occasionally brushing the sides of his head when she adjusted the angle.
And that definitely wasn’t helping him think straight either.
At one point she stepped away to grab another clipper guard from the counter, and Colston immediately reached for his phone sitting in his lap beneath the cape.
Without even thinking twice, he opened Caleb’s messages.
Colston: you did NOT tell me your stylist was hot
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Caleb: oh brother
Caleb: I knew this was coming
Colston glanced toward Y/N, who was reorganizing products near the mirror completely unaware, then typed again.
Colston: im serious
Caleb: colston you are NOT about to fuck my stylist
Caleb: thats my homegirl
He snorted quietly.
Colston: im just saying
Caleb: no youre not JUST saying, i know your type of timing
Colston smirked to himself while Caleb kept going.
Caleb: plus she dont even be on that right now anyway
Colston’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Colston: what that mean
The typing bubble paused.
Then resumed.
Caleb: she been single for a minute
Caleb: last dude wasnt even her man for real it was some sneaky link situation
Caleb: ended BAD too
Colston read the next message twice.
Caleb: the girl threatened her so hard she aint tryna die anymore 😭
Colston barked out an actual laugh before quickly covering it with a cough.
Y/N turned around immediately.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded loud for nothing.”
He shook his head while locking his phone.
“Caleb being stupid.”
“That’s every day.”
There was something weirdly attractive about how naturally she said that, like her and Caleb had been friends since day 1. The kind of friendship where she’d threaten to kick him out but still fit his teammates into her schedule.
Y/N moved back behind the chair and started sectioning his hair again.
The blow dryer hummed softly while she shaped the front carefully, fingers lifting pieces and letting them fall.
“You got good hair when you actually take care of it,” she admitted.
“That sounded backhanded.”
“Because it was.”
“Damn.”
She smiled a little to herself.
The more time passed, the more Colston caught himself watching her instead of his reflection.
The concentration on her face when she lined things up.
The way her bracelets slid softly down her wrist every time she adjusted his head.
The way she absentmindedly bit the inside of her cheek while focusing.
It was bad.
And it got significantly worse about ten minutes later.
Because Chicago salons in winter got warm fast with blow dryers running nonstop, and eventually Y/N stepped back from the chair and sighed dramatically.
“It is hot in here.”
Before Colston could even process it, she pulled the quarter zip Alo sweatshirt over her head casually and tossed it onto the counter nearby.
Underneath was a fitted tank top that hugged her perfectly.
And suddenly Colston forgot every thought he previously had.
Completely.
The tank showed the toned lines of her shoulders and arms, gold jewelry sitting against her skin while she moved around him adjusting clippers like she hadn’t just altered the entire atmosphere of the room.
Meanwhile Colston was trying very hard to maintain eye contact with literally anything else.
The mirror.
The ceiling.
The product shelf.
The wall.
Anything.
Unfortunately, Y/N stepped directly in front of him a second later while adjusting the chair height.
“Look up for me.”
Big mistake.
Because the second he tilted his head back slightly, she leaned closer to start lining up the edges near his mustache, and from that angle…
Absolutely not.
His eyes flicked downward for half a second before immediately snapping back up toward the ceiling.
Professionalism Colston...
Meanwhile, Y/N remained completely unaware, focused entirely on shaping the line carefully while holding his chin lightly between her fingers to keep him still.
“Stop moving.”
“I’m not moving.”
“You literally just did.”
“My bad.”
Her fingers pressed briefly along his jaw to tilt his face straighter.
And that definitely didn’t help either.
Colston swallowed hard while trying to focus on literally anything besides how good she smelled up close. Something warm and expensive cancelling out the minty scent floating through the salon.
“You nervous?” she asked suddenly.
His eyes dropped back to hers.
“Hm?”
“You keep swallowing like you about to give a speech.”
Jesus Christ.
“Nah,” he said quickly.
She narrowed her eyes slightly like she didn’t fully believe him.
Then she turned the chair carefully side to side, examining her work from different angles while the lights reflected softly across the mirror.
Colston watched her through the reflection the entire time.
And somehow it was worse seeing her that way, moving around him confidently in that calm little salon suite like she belonged exactly there.
Which she did.
“Okay,” she murmured finally. “Now we getting somewhere.”
She reached up and lightly pushed a piece of his hair into place near the front before stepping back again.
And Colston realized two things at once.
First, she was really, really good at what she did.
Second, California suddenly wasn’t the thing he was most interested in anymore.
“You got somewhere after this?” she asked casually while cleaning up one side of the lineup.
“Nah.”
“No team dinner?”
“Tomorrow.”
She nodded once. “Mhm.”
“You?”
“I live here now,” she joked “This suite pay too much rent for me to leave.”
He laughed quietly.
And then the front door opened.
Immediately the calm atmosphere shattered.
“ LOOK AT MY BOY.”
Colston closed his eyes instantly.
Y/N groaned without even turning around.
“Why are you back?”
Caleb walked in carrying another coffee and grinning like an idiot the second he saw Colston sitting in the chair.
“Nah hold on.” Caleb walked closer dramatically, staring at the haircut like a proud father at graduation. “Okayyyyy.”
“Relax,” Colston muttered.
“No, because this is crazy.” Caleb pointed toward Y/N. “See? What I tell you? She a magician.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t fully hide the small smile pulling at her mouth.
Caleb circled the chair inspecting every angle unnecessarily.
“Boy came in lookin’ homeless.”
“I was not homeless.”
“You was one cold night away.”
Y/N snorted quietly while cleaning the trimmers.
“See?” Caleb said immediately. “She know.”
“Y’all are annoying.”
Caleb leaned closer examining the fade dramatically.
“Damn. You actually look employable now.”
“Please shut up.”
The entire suite filled with easy laughter after that, the kind that made Colston realize how naturally he’d settled into this space in only a couple hours.
Too naturally.
Because when Y/N finally spun the chair slowly toward the mirror for the full reveal, Colston actually sat there for a second stunned.
The cut was clean.
Sharp.
Not overdone.
Just… good.
The front sat perfectly textured instead of dry and puffed up, the fade blended smooth, the lineup crisp without looking painted on.
He looked expensive.
Like somebody that belonged at a California wedding surrounded by cameras and NFL players.
“Damn,” he admitted quietly.
“Told you,” Y/N said smugly.
Caleb put both hands on his hips proudly like he personally did the haircut.
“That’s my stylist right there.”
“She not yours,” Colston said automatically.
Both of them looked at him immediately.
Caleb’s eyebrows lifted slowly.
Y/N tried not to smile.
Colston realized how that sounded three seconds too late.
Y/N shook her head laughing softly while pulling the cape off Colston’s shoulders.
The weird part was how normal everything suddenly felt after that.
Like he’d known her longer than one afternoon.
Like this wasn’t the first time he’d sat in her chair listening to her quietly roast him while music played in the background.
And that feeling only got worse once he stood up.
Because now he was taller than her by enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to look up at him while explaining how to maintain the style.
“Use the leave-in conditioner I put in your bag,” she said. “Not just water.”
“I do not just use water.”
“You absolutely do.”
Caleb nodded immediately. “He definitely do.”
“Why are both of y’all attacking me?”
“Because you need guidance,” Y/N answered calmly.
Colston laughed under his breath while pulling his wallet out.
“Nah seriously though,” he said. “How much I owe you?”
“250.”
Colston barely reacted before tapping his card instantly.
She noticed that too.
Athlete money.
No hesitation.
Still, she appreciated that he didn’t do the weird rich thing where he tried to flex or act flashy about it. He just paid, thanked her genuinely, and stood there awkwardly afterward like he didn’t actually wanna leave yet.
Which Caleb noticed immediately.
Because of course he did.
That man noticed everything.
Caleb suddenly snapped his fingers.
“WAIT.”
Both of them looked over.
Caleb pointed between them dramatically.
“Bro.”
“No,” Colston said instantly, already sensing danger.
“You invited me to this wedding.”
“And?”
“And I need a plus one.”
Y/N blinked. “What?”
Caleb walked toward her counter casually like this was the most normal idea in the world.
“I’m serious. You should pull up.”
Colston’s heart actually skipped for half a second.
Y/N laughed softly. “To California?”
“Yes.”
“For a wedding I don’t know anybody at?”
“You know me.”
“That is not convincing.”
Caleb ignored that completely.
“It’ll be fun. Rich people. Open bar. NFL players everywhere. You can judge everybody outfits.”
“That part does sound entertaining.”
“Exactly.”
Colston should’ve been saying something.
Anything.
But instead, unfortunately, his brain had temporarily shut down because while Y/N leaned back against the counter thinking about it, his eyes drifted downward again without permission.
And this time he got caught immediately.
Badly.
Because Y/N looked right at him mid sentence and paused.
Then slowly crossed her arms.
“Oh my God.”
Colston snapped back to reality instantly.
Caleb’s eyes widened with delight.
“OH HE GOT CAUGHT.”
“No I didn’t,” Colston said way too fast.
Y/N was trying not to laugh now.
“You absolutely did.”
“I wasn’t-”
“You were staring directly at my chest.”
Caleb physically bent over laughing.
“BROOOOO.”
Colston rubbed a hand over his face immediately.
“No, I was staring at your hair.”
Silence.
Then Y/N stared at him for a long second before bursting into actual laughter.
“MY hair?”
“Yes.”
“That’s your excuse?”
“It looked different.”
Caleb nearly fell against the counter laughing.
“That is the WORST recovery I ever heard in my life.”
“I panicked.”
“You think she dumb?!” Caleb wheezed.
Y/N was still laughing while shaking her head.
“Your hair,” she repeated sarcastically.
Colston pointed helplessly. “You took the zip-up off.”
“And suddenly my hair became interesting?”
“I don’t know, man.”
At least he was honest.
That somehow made it funnier.
Y/N looked down for a second, still smiling to herself before glancing back up at him.
And unfortunately for Colston, she didn’t actually look uncomfortable.
If anything, she looked entertained.
Which might’ve been even worse.
Caleb finally wiped tears from under his eyes dramatically.
“Anyway,” he said, recovering. “You coming or not?”
Y/N looked between both of them for a second.
Then shrugged casually.
“Sure.”
Colston blinked.
“Wait seriously?”
Now it was her turn to notice.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“You sound excited.”
“I’m not.”
“Mhm.”
Caleb looked back and forth between them like he’d just personally orchestrated the greatest event of his career.
summary: Treasure knew better than to fall for pretty words. She already had a man at home, even if the relationship been dead for a minute. But when quiet, observant Jimmy Uso starts slipping into her space during late nights out with her girls, she finds herself craving the one thing she swore she wouldn’t fall for again: A man who knows exactly what to say. And sugar talking can only sweeten a bad situation for so long.
fanfic is 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED
warnings: explicit content, angst
smut warning: it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I am improving at the moment
Jimmy Uso x Treasure
comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍
ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.
I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios
again mdni you have been warned.
title inspired by the song “Sugar Talking” by Sabrina Carpenter
thanks to my friend @charmed-dreamssss for helping me with the summary 🫶🏽
TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @sharmelasworld @spiicii @theusotwinzcom @mingisfavgf @trippiexlove @wisteria-bae @yourleogf @wrestlingprincess80 @jeyseyes @liv4jey @uceyjucey @mikaelsonharem7 @yyaktayak @lyricailove
⠀ 𓊆 ♰ 𓊇 ⠀⠀ ∿ ⠀⠀ older ! 𝒅̲𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 and his freaked out girlfriend
⌗ ⠀ dean winchester ⠀ ✗ ⠀𝒇 ! reader .⠀ ⠀ㅤ𓂅⠀ ⠀suggestive ༝ established relationship ༝ food play ? ༝ reader is horny ༝ implied sub / switch ! dean winchester ༝ no age gap mentioned ༝ older ! dean ( between s9 and 15 ) ✴︎ 𝒎𝓲𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 .
⠀ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !
OO1 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀everyone thought that dean would be the one to be insufferable . . . and they were wrong . you were actually way worse than him when it came to any physical interaction between the two of you .
OO2 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀if you guys happened to be at a bar you’d most likely end up kissing him at some point in the night . tongue and all . sam stopped complaining and just minded his business , already choosing another table for him to crash and enjoy his beer far away from you guys freaky selves .
OO3 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀you ’ re the one to propose role play in the bedroom and who the fuck is he to say no ?
“ i really think it’d be nice to be slapped by a cow girl during sex … ”
OO4 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀ and you did give him a few smacks , mushy tip kissing your cervix while you bounced happily on his dick with nothing on except for the cowboy boots . he was the happiest man alive
“ you think we could make a sex tape ? ” you once asked out of the blue. “ what , you mean amateur porn or sex tape sex tape ? ”
OO4 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀next thing you know , dean had his personal camera in one hand as he thrusted you from behind . skin rippling at the smacks he gave to you ass . ++ he secretly jerked off to the few tapes you filmed whenever he or you were away
OO5 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀HEAVY on that costume kink !! you give him bedroom eyes whenever he shows up in his cheap costumes .. tbf you thinks he’s sexy in any costume and you guys always end up fucking in random places
OO6 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀big in semi - public too btw . . . it’s that bad . dean swears you’re insane but still lets you give him a blow job behind his car in the empty parking lot in front of the motel .
OO7 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀you’re also the one who proposed to put music on during sex and dean insisted on choosing his personal playlist . so whenever he was down on his knees with his thumbs spreading your folds and tongue lapping at your pussy thoroughly , enter sandman or some other classic rock music would blast through his speakers
OO8 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀you secretly wanna peg him but you left him some hints here and there for him to catch on . . . he’s so dense he never caught them until he saw your search history—there was a link to an online boutique selling sex toys and he saw a strap-on in your wish list .
OO9 ⠀ ⠀ 𐂂 ⠀⠀˖⠀ ⠀whenever you’re on top ( which is almost all the time ) you lean down to bite his nipples and that always surprises both of you every time a very raunchy grunts leave his lips
you have no idea how you did it but somehow the club promoter had the hots for you.
you decided for the first time in months, at the behest of your inner feelings, wanted to go out and dance at the club.
you figured you'd have to be on the dancefloor, but were suddenly whisked to a section that already had bottles and the hookah for your friends.
he would saunter to the table, asking everyone if they liked the table. he only stared at you the entire time, like he was waiting for your approval.
"do you do this for everyone or im just that pretty?" you playfully asked, not expecting a real answer.
"yeah, you're definitely that pretty. if y'all need anything just let me know." his grillz shined as he spoke, confidence dripping off of his tongue.
every now and then he would play songs that you liked, causing you to of course sing and dance in the section with your friends.
you weren't really a drinker, so the sodas and water kept pouring for you and you only. everyone else only got more if you asked a waiter for more.
by the time the club would close the man sauntered back over, everyone except you now drunk and ready to go.
"next time you come in here by yourself, i'll treat you much better. you babysitting everybody here i couldn't even ask you to dance." the man kept a respectful distance, though his minty fresh breath wafted your face.
"yeah? ion even know your name." he smirked as he got closer, licking his lips.
"its jacob mama, and you could wear it out anytime."
you shook your head as you were now being walked out of the club, waving at the male.
you were def coming back to the club just for him.
—————
something short and sweet, hope y’all like it! you might get something like this for damn near everyone this weekend.
summary: you get attacked by a patient :/ but mateo is there to save the day and make sure ur okay!
pairings: mateo diaz x fem!reader
a/n: MATEO!! my king is back omg i missed him so so much. that's literally dada!! also why is there no fanfics of him??? can we pleaseee write more for him :( also this takes place during the night shift!! since that's where he is now. guys don't forget to send requests for the pitt! you can request for anyone!! also i might be writing another short oneshot for samira cause that's my wife also!! okay enough yapping and i hope you enjoy <33
you arrived at work about two hours ago since you had recently taken the night shift. the hospital was loud per usual. some of the day shifters were still here stressing out about something. you remember a patient you were assigned and went to check up on them, it’s been a while since you last have.
“sorry about the wait,” you said when you walked into the patient’s room, trying to keep your tone calm. “we’ve just been really busy tonight. i just wanted to check in and make sure everything’s okay.”
the patient looked up at you, arms crossed, jaw tight. “yeah? well, i’ve been here for hours and no one’s done a damn thing for me. this is ridiculous.”
you swallowed, forcing a small smile. “i know it’s frustrating, i really do. we’re going to help you soon, i promise. i just need to check a few things first—”
“no, it’s not okay!” he snapped, standing up too fast. “i’m not fine, and you’re wasting my time!”
you stepped back instinctively, holding up your hands. “hey, please calm down! i’m just trying to help, okay?”
he leaned closer, voice dripping with anger. “help? you call this helping? you’ve done nothing!”
you felt your stomach twist. gosh dealing with patients like this was the worst. “i’m sorry, it’s just… there’s a lot going on tonight, and—”
before you could finish, he lunged. one hand shot out and grabbed your arm, yanking you toward him. your heart jumped and you stumbled back, hitting the wall hard. the patient didn’t let go of you and kept yelling some dumb nonsense.
“hey! let go of me!” you shouted, struggling a little, your voice shaking. “get your hands off me!”
suddenly the door burst open. one of the security guards came in to pull the patient away along. samira, robby, and dana rushed in, if they were still here then today was definitely a rough night, the patient yelled as the security guard held him down.
dana turned her head to you. “hey! are you okay?” she asked, rushing over. her eyes scanned your face and the patient. “come on, we’ve got you.” she grabbed your arm and took you out of the room. “did he hurt you?”
you shook your head quickly, trying to steady your breathing. “i… i’m fine,” you said, though your arm throbbed.
mateo came rushing down the hall the second he heard the commotion, eyes scanning the scene until they landed on you. “what the hell happened?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer, he gently grabbed your shoulders, turning you so he could see your face. “who did this? are you hurt?”
“patient in there, got a little out of control but there calming him down now.” dana said reassuring mateo that you were okay. “son of a bitch is gonna pay. can you check her out? see if she’s okay?” she asked mateo.
you swallowed, “is that really necessary? it’s nothing major im fine..” you really didn’t wanna be a bother to anyone.. i mean this isn’t the first time a patient attacked a worker.
mateo looked at you as he held your arm. “fine?” he repeated, his voice quieter now but tense. “this is not fine. come on, you’re coming with me we’re checking this out like dana said.” and just like that he started walking to find a private room.
“no, really, i’m fine,” you protested, as you followed him. you really didn’t wanna make this bigger then it already is.
“i don’t care,” he said, his tone softening only slightly. “we are checking you. you got hurt, and i’m not letting you pretend like it didn’t happen.” when he reached a room he opened the door allowing you to go first
you knew you couldn’t argue anymore so you stepped inside the room and sat on the hospital bed. he shut the door and turned on the light and got to work. he checked to see if you were alright and when he lifted your sleeve he saw a mark.
“okay, a bruise will definitely be forming…” he murmured, frowning slightly as he gently pressed around the mark. his fingers were careful but firm, tracing the edges to see how bad it was. “hm… yeah, that’s definitely going to hurt tomorrow. you’re lucky it didn’t hit anything worse.”
you didn’t say anything and let him examine your arm. you kept your eyes on him the whole time. mateo was… always so careful, so gentle, like he knew exactly how to make you feel safe even when everything else was chaos. the way his hands moved, the way he spoke softly, it made your chest tighten in that weird, fluttery way.
“you’re really stubborn, you know that?” he said softly, smirking a little.
“i’m fine, mateo,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating, but the way he looked at you made it impossible to sound convincing.
“fine? no way. you got attacked. i’m not letting you brush this off.” he paused, then added quietly, “i didn’t like seeing you scared like that.”
you looked at him, and suddenly everything else faded.. the lights, the noise, the patient. it was just you and him, and for the first time all night, you felt… safe.
“thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
mateo’s hand brushed against your arm as he put the sleeve back down from examining it “don’t thank me yet,” he said, shaking his head. “i’m not done checking you over. can’t have you running off after something like this and pretending it’s nothing.”
you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “yeah, yeah… i’m fine, really.”
he gave a tiny scoff, tugging your sleeve just slightly to look at the bruise again. “sure, fine,” he said, clearly not believing you. “i guess i’ll have to make sure you’re actually okay myself. lucky me.”
you couldn’t help but laugh softly, even though your arm throbbed a little. “oh, poor you. what a tough job you’ve got, huh?”
“don’t even joke,” he said, but the corner of his mouth twitched into that smirk again. “seriously… you’re impossible sometimes.”
you caught yourself watching him, and you had to admit mateo was always like this. careful, attentive, but with this weird, teasing edge that made you feel… noticed, and safe, and maybe a little nervous in a good way.
“impossible, huh?” you murmured, smiling faintly.
“yeah,” he said, shrugging but still glancing at you. “but… in a good way, don’t let it go to your head.”
you shook your head, still smiling, letting him fuss just a little longer. it wasn’t romantic.. well not yet, but it was enough. enough to make the world feel a little quieter and a lot safer.
wow so cute!! (pls i hate this my writing is so ass im sorry guys) but i hope you guys liked this small oneshot!!! don’t forget to send requests for the pitt! PLEASEEE IT CAN BE ANY CHARACTER! (also mateo i love you dearly xoxo) ALSO THIS IS NOTTT PROOFREAD SO IM VERY SORRY… 🥲
older!simonriley who is a little bit surprised when you ask him to sleep with you. you tell him how inexperienced you are and that you wish to learn how to properly pleasure someone. he's not sure if he's gonna say yes but, you're probably going to ask someone else anyway, and the mere idea makes him sick. he doesn’t regret it when he sees your big doe eyes looking up at him as you're on your knees, his fat cock standing proudly before you. he snickers at your intimidated expression before grabbing gently your hair and guiding your lips on his lenght, a sigh escaping him as he feels the warmness of your mouth. even as you gag and that tears are threatning to spill, he doesn’t stop, you'll have to learn the hard way anyway.
the first time you walked in on your cousins bf naked you barely even saw anything but bare ass.
you didn't shriek, obviously. but seeing his bare asscheeks spooked you. you let out a sharp breath, the towels you had in your hand falling in a soft thud.
though cody? didnt react as such. he just chuckled, slowly wrapping himself with one of the towels. "if i didnt know how innocent you were, i would've though you did that on purpose."
"i-im so sorry!" you quietly spoke, backpedaling out of the room super quick. your heart was in your ass, rubbing your chest once you were in the safety of your room.
a part of you was super embarrassed, wanting to cover yourself in a invisibility cloak forever. but the other part of you…
…wanted it to happen again.
and a month later, it just so happened again.
it was late, and no one was home. you were so half asleep you wandered into your cousins bathroom instead of yours.
seeing your cousins man, in his full naked glory woke you the entire fuck up. it also didnt help that cody stared at you like you were a piece of meat.
dammit, you forgot you were only wearing a very old tank top and a thong. and your titties were barely contained in said tank top.
instead of saying sorry this time, you opted on taking a look on the wild side.
and if 'the wild side' meant covering your mouth as codys massive length pumped in and out of you, whispering in your ear about how much tighter and wetter you were than your cousin? than so be it.
