#x fat!reader

Mel managed to get the day off so she could go with Becca to the art museum. It was a trip she was taking with the other people from her care facility. They looked at all the art in comfortable silence, Becca taking significantly longer when staring at a statue of Aphrodite.

Becca always loved Aphrodite, loved her figure and how pretty she was. When she saw a woman in public with the same figure, she’d point and gasp and pull at Mel for her attention. Mel tried to get her to stop doing this, but only managed to get her to be more quiet about it.

This fact is what causes Becca to gasp and stifle a squeal as she pulls Mel’s sleeve. She follows her gaze and finds you, staring at another Greek statue with intense focus.

“Look! Look, Mel, she looks just like Aphrodite!” She yells, a little too loud so you hear her from your spot a few feet away. You smile to yourself but don’t turn around.

“Becca.” Mel tries to quiet her.

“She’s so pretty! Don’t you think she’s pretty?! Look.” Becca pulls her again and this time she does look, really look. Her eyes scan you from head to toe, deciding that yes you do look like Aphrodite…though somehow you seem even prettier.

“She’s…beautiful.” Mel replies, breathless.

“Perfect!” Becca lets go and runs toward you, making Mel panic and run after her. “Hi!” She greets you loudly, waving frantically.

“Hello.” You greet with a smile and laugh.

“My sister thinks you look like Aphrodite!” Mel finally makes it over to you and her cheeks flush, looking between you and Becca with wide eyes.

“Really?” You ask, giving her your attention. “You think I look like the goddess of love and beauty?” Mel stutters as she tries to find words, but Becca answers for her.

“Yes! Though your stomach is a little bit bigger, and your hips are wider.” Mel blanches and opens her mouth to scold her sister before you start laughing. It’s a melodious sound, a sound that flows through Mel like the water from River Styx.

“That is very true. I hope that doesn’t deduct any of my points on the beauty scale.” You whisper to her.

“There’s a beauty scale?!” Becca gasps.

“Theoretically, yes. Though some people can be biased with their points.” You warn.

“Where am I?!” She asks, jumping up and down. You take a step back and pretend to examine her, to which she gives you a graceful twirl.

“I’d say you’re even higher than me. You have beautiful hair, lays nicely and is a great shade of brown.” You compliment, giving her a more specific one.

“Mel, Mel did you hear?! She said I’m even prettier than her!”

“Yeah, I-I heard, Becs.” Mel breathes out a nervous laugh.

“She could be the one you kiss.” Becca says, a little too loudly for Mel’s liking. “It doesn’t have to be a boy! I think she likes you.” Becca tries to whisper but you still hear it, and Mel knows you do.

“Becs, I-“ Someone cuts her off, calling Becca over before she gets lost. Mel moves to follow but Becca pushes her back.

“Talk to the pretty girl!” She starts running before Mel can even protest. She turns back around to face you, face red with embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry, she doesn’t really…she just always says what she’s thinking.” Mel says, running a hand through her hair.

“Fine by me.” You reassure her, nodding. “So…Aphrodite, huh?” You ask with a smirk.

“In my defense she said it first, I just…agreed.”

“Agreed?” You ask, smirking even more wickedly.

“Uh-“ Mel panics under your gaze, her entire body lighting on fire. “Y-Yes, yeah I did.”

“You’re also very pretty.” You reply, whispering as you lean in closer.

“Yeah?” Mel asks, smile pulling at her lips. You nod and Mel swallows, trying to muster up all the courage she has. “Where am I on the beauty scale?” She asks, grinning at you.

“I don’t think there’s a single one that goes high enough for you.” You say, looking at her like you’re in a trance. “You’re effortlessly stunning.” Mel lets out a particularly loud and embarrassing giggle before covering her mouth.

“Uh…thank you.” She blushes again. You stand together after that, staring at the same statue in front of you. You melt in the comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glance at her.

“So.” You start, turning toward her again. She immidiately whips her head to meet your eyes. “I hear you need someone to kiss.”

***

It’s no surprise that you start dating not long after that…well, at least it isn’t a surprise to either of you. Becca wasn’t too shocked either, but she was very ecstatic. She loved you, and loved you even more when you started hanging out with her.

You shared some of her interests, and when you didn’t you listened to her ramble about them anyway. You didn’t treat her like a child, but you still knew how to comfort her and help her when she needed it. It was also no surprise that you fell for each other, hard and fast. You had started discussing moving in together before it happened.

You were at the small corner store, buying ice cream and snacks for your movie night with Mel. Her apartment was only a few blocks down, you didn’t think there’d be any problems. You started crossing the street when it happened. You were too distracted by the music in your headphones, only looking when you heard a honk. The car was barreling toward you, and although it was slowing down…it was still going to hit you.

You only moved a little bit before it did hit you. You had seen and looked too late, and now you’ve been thrown forward, sliding against the ground with a sickening sound. You can’t remember where your bag of food had gone, your purse was still next to you. Someone ran up to you, then someone else, shouting and telling you to stay awake.

You tried to listen, you really did…but you just felt so tired.

The EMT’s rushed you to the nearest hospital which just so happened to be Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. They rolled you in and a handful of people, Mel’s coworkers you’d eventually find out, crowded around you. They rolled you into a room and tried their best to keep you stable. They sent you up with Garcia for surgery soon after, having no time to waste. Robby was handed your purse and he brought it over to the nurse’s station.

“She looked young.” Dana said, walking over. Robby rummaged for a few moments before finding your ID, reading it quickly.

“She is.” Robby sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Turns twenty-one next month.” He turns it around for her to see before handing it to her.

“Pretty name…and a pretty girl.” Dana says absentmindedly. “I hope she pulls through.” She pulls up your medical files while Robby stays standing there. It had been very quiet before they rolled you in, now it was just as quiet…but it wasn’t a nice feeling anymore. “Oh, shit.” Dana gasps, looking up at Robby with a look of horror and sadness.

“What?”

“Mel is her emergency contact.” She says quietly. Robby swears he feels his heart fall out of his ass.

***

He grabs his phone quickly after the words leave Dana’s mouth, trying to pull up Mel’s contact until a phone starts ringing. It shakes inside the purse still sitting in front of him, shaking the countertop. His brows furrow as he rummages through and pulls out the phone, the sight only making him feel worse…if that was even possible.

A picture of you with Mel and Becca, standing in front of a statue at the museum…the Aphrodite statue to be specific. The contact name is ‘Melly Belly’ and it shakes in his hand as it keeps ringing.

“Is that her?” Dana asks hesitantly when she sees the look on Robby’s face. He nods slowly, his body freezing and unable to pick up the call. It disappears and goes to your lock screen, showing the notifications. (8 Missed Calls From ‘Melly Belly’) Robby exhales, a shaky and broken sound. He quickly recovers, or tries to and pulls up Mel’s contact on his own phone. It only rings a few times before she picks up.

“Dr. Robby?” She asks, he can see her furrowed brows even without her here.

“Mel.” Is all he gets out to start.

“Is there a problem at the hospital?” She asks, voice light as she asks…he’s afraid to hear what it sounds like after he gives her the news.

“Something like that, yes.”

“I’d come in and help, but I’m waiting on someone. I don’t want to just ditch her.” Mel says, sounding distracted. Robby’s chest tightens and he feels his eyes start to water.

“Yeah uh…” He pauses to wipe away the tears before they fall. “There was a car accident close by. EMT’s brought her in, took a while to get her stable so we could send her up with Garcia.” His voice breaks little, only further confusing Mel.

“Okay?”

“You were listed as her emergency contact.” Robby whispers. Mel goes silent, deadly silent. Robby starts to think she hung up before she finally speaks again.

“W-What uh…what was her name?” She asks, even though she knows the only people who have her listed is Becca and you. Becca was safe at the facility, having just called Mel to ask her to tell you she missed you for her.

“Y/n.” Robby chokes out. Mel goes silent again, breath shaky and unsteady. Robby can hear the tears in her eyes when she speaks again.

“I’m on my way.” She hangs up and Robby stills, slowly lowering his own hand.

“She’s coming?” Dana asks.

“Yeah.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“She close by?”

“Probably at her apartment.” Robby replies, staring off into space.

“So about…” She looks down at her watch. “Twenty minutes?” Robby shakes his head as another patient rolls in.

“Ten. She’ll be speeding.” He says before running over.

***

Mel runs through the doors and up to reception. She pushes past people without a care in the world.

“Lupe.” She says, pushing past the person standing at the window.

“Hey, Mel! Thought today was your day off?”

“It uh…” She hesitates, trying to steady her voice. “It was. Robby called me in.” She says simply.

“Such a workaholic that man…two peas in a pod.” Lupe shakes her head. “Come back around, hon.” Mel nods and runs back, sprinting down the hall until she reaches the nurse’s station in the Pitt.

“Dana.” She says loudly. She sounds and looks collected enough…to the untrained eye. Dana whips her head around and her face softens instantly. Her coworkers can see the signs, can see she’s falling apart. Bloodshot eyes from crying, the tip of her nose tinted pink and lips puffy. Her freckles are more noticeable, the tear streaks making them more pronounced.

“Hey, hon.” She walks over, walking around and resting a hand on her arm. “How about we go somewhere more private?” Mel nods mindlessly, following her into a room and listening as she debriefs her on your medical status. Mel’s face doesn’t change once, it’s blank and almost lifeless.

“She’s uh…she’s still in surgery?” Mel asks, rubbing her hands down her face.

“Yeah. She should be out in a few hours, you can see her when she gets back to her room.” Mel nods and stands up, walking robotically to the break room for some coffee. She comes back and sees your purse on Dana’s desk. She just stares at it for a while, eyes watering when she sees the little splatters of blood on it…your blood.

Dana finally looks over and follows her gaze. “Oh!” She yells, reaching over to grab it before handing it to Mel. “I forgot it was there, sorry.” Dana groans when it leaves her grip. “Thing weighs a thousand pounds.” She laughs and Mel just nods.

“I’m just gonna-“ Mel trails off, pointing back to the break room.

“‘Course hon.” Dana waves her off. She enters the break room again and sits at the table, setting your bag down on top of it. She stares at it for a while longer, taking sips of her coffee as she does. She finally gains the courage to wipe away the blood…your blood, because you had been bleeding. How much blood had you lost? She wondered, until she realized she doesn’t want the answer.

Mel decides to rummage through your bag as she waits, needing something to distract her. What better distraction than the love of her life’s purse? The same purse that seems to hold every single item anyone could ever need. She finds typical things, pills, a brush, sticky notes, more care products like bandaids and chapstick. She opens the main pocket to find your iPad, filled with all your stories and poetry. Your sketchbook which Mel has seen every page of, you were always showing her your drawings and melted at her praise.

That’s when she looked down and saw something that made her choke back sobs. A small pink bunny plush, settled nicely inside your purse so she’s comfy. Mel reaches in with shaking hands and grabs it, holding it in front of her face. It was a Jellycat, one you’d always wanted but never asked for. Pink was you favorite color, so of course Mel bought it in powder pink.

The fur on her right ear was worn, clumped together from the amount of times you’d rubbed it. Mel chokes back another sob at this fact. She had bought her for you this year on Valentine’s Day, along with your favorite candies. You hugged her so tight she couldn’t breathe, having to push you off of her so she wouldn’t pass out…what she wouldn’t give to have you hug her that tight again. Screw breathing and oxygen, she doesn’t need it, what she does need is you.

You’d named the rabbit Freyja. You wanted to name her Aphrodite, since there was some meaning behind it and since she was the goddess of love…and you got the bunny on Valentine’s. Mel thought it was so adorable, watching you think of the name and your nose scrunching when you decide against it.

“It’s too hard to say all the time.” You said. “I’ll name her Freyja instead, the Norse goddess of love.” You’d looked over at her with that intoxicating smile, the smile she would die to see one more time.

You were on your way to her apartment, just across the street…where you’d been hit. Mel’s heart clenches when she realizes she had no idea, if she had just looked out the window she could have seen it…but she didn’t. She just assumed you were having trouble deciding what ice cream you wanted…not fighting for your life while laying in the street.

Mel holds Freyja close to her chest as she cries, muffled by her hand. She ends up falling asleep at some point, eyes drooping and sore from all her crying. Her head fell against the table, bunny still close to her chest as she drifted off.

A few hours later, Frank walked into the break room. His brows furrowed at the scene in front of him, knowing today was her day off. He looks at the purse and only grows more confused, Mel didn’t carry a purse…hell, he wasn’t even sure she owned one. He walks over and shakes her awake, heart dropping when he sees her red and teary eyes.

“Dr. Langdon?” She asks, voice rough with sleep.

“What are you doing here? I thought today was your day off?” He says and Mel deflates, slouching in the chair as she plays with Freyja’s ear, the same spot you always rub. She was hoping he’d come in here to give her news on how you’re doing, forgetting this is the staff break room where they all eat.

“I um…there was a car accident.” Is all she can get out before she chokes up again. She turns her face away from him, facing the wall as her eyes water.

“That doesn’t really answer my question.” He laughs. “There are car accidents all the time, it doesn’t mean you need to come in.” He sits across from her, smiling goofily at her.

“She’s…” Mel’s heart breaks with the words, tearing into her chest. “She’s my girlfriend.” Mel whispers. She always kind of hated calling you that, because it was never right. ‘Girlfriend’ didn’t rightfully describe how much you meant to her. ‘Wife’ was off the table since you weren’t married yet, though you did talk about it. ‘Love of my life’ was too sappy, people would just roll their eyes at her. You were her everything, her entire world, and now she’s struggling to stay standing and sane…because her world is fighting for her life just one floor above her.

“Oh, shit.” Frank mumbles, eyes bulging wide. “I-“ The door opening cuts him off, Robby showing up in the doorway. Mel jumps up from her chair, still holding the bunny as she stares at him.

“Y/n?” She asks weakly. Robby nods and waves a hand for her to follow him. She grabs your purse and sets in back in Dana’s care, keeping Freyja in her arms as she walks behind Robby. He leads her into the elevator in silence, only speaking when the doors shut.

“She’s doing well.” He says gently. “Surgery went perfectly. She’s awake and talking, seems to know what’s going on around her. She should be able to go home in a few days.” Mel nods along.

“What…what were her injuries?” Mel asks, voice breaking.

“I don’t think I can tell you without breaking down.” Robby laughs. “You can read her chart if you want.” Mel nods and quickly leaves when the elevator doors open. She doesn’t spare Robby another glance, too focused on getting to you. Garcia runs into her and tells her what room you’re in. Mel holds Freyja tightly as she opens the door to your room, slowly stepping inside and pushing past the privacy curtain.

“Mel?” You ask, voice rough and gravelly.

“Yeah.” She breathes, rushing to your side and seating herself in a chair.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, a tear rolling down your cheek. Mel reaches over without a thought, wiping the tear away.

“Why are you sorry?” She asks, shaking her head at you.

“For making you worry…for not paying attention when crossing the street.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” Mel quickly shuts you down. “It happens all the time, don’t put the blame on yourself. As for making me worry, you don’t have to be sorry for that either. I worry about you constantly, it’s just automatic at this point.” She runs her fingers through your hair, getting rid of the tangles.

“Is that Freyja?” You ask quietly, making Mel look down. She had forgotten about the bunny in her arms, smiling when she looks back at her pink fur.

“Yeah.” She hands her to you on instinct, knowing you could use the comfort. “Found her in your purse.” Mel says, trying not to break into tears.

“Melly.” You whisper, forcing her to meet your eyes. “You‘re allowed to cry you know. Just because I hate seeing you sad doesn’t mean you can’t be.” Mel breaks down at that, resting her head against your thigh as she sobs. You run your hands through her hair and scratch her scalp, calming her in a way only you could achieve.

“Our ice cream is totally melted.” You say suddenly, making Mel break into a fit of laughter.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Kinda, yeah!” You whine, huffing. “That was the last pint of strawberry cheesecake!” You complain, making Mel laugh again. The sound bubbles up in her throat and eases all the tension in your body.

“We’ll find you another one. I promise.” She kisses your forehead and you grin.

“I’m holding you to that.” You poke her nose.

Since being introduced, he'd been in an internal battle, fighting the more primitive instincts that had waited, dormant, to hatch inside him.

That is, until he returns after a fortnight with the hunting party in the Kingswood, only to find you absent from your apartments, not even a hint of your sweet fragrance left.

Suddenly, he feels foolish. What has he been doing?

He's been starving himself of you. Not for food; rather, he'd been overindulging, mistaking the need in his gut for famine, not recognizing the cure wasn't in pigeon pies, lemon cakes, or Dornish wines. Instead, he stubbornly denied himself your touch, an easy release, and, more than once, even sleep.

Never had he been more sure the blood of the dragon was rushing through his veins; the mere thought of you being taken from him... It made it roar.

During his search, still soiled with the sweat and blood of the hunt, he takes a moment to reflect, and when a maester finally informs him of your whereabouts, he's come to a conclusion.

There will be no more holding back.

He comes to you feral, cock-heavy, throbbing, and aching with every step. By the time he found you and had you laid back, stripped bare, and spread wide, his cock hurt like it had been waiting its whole life instead of mere hours. Thick, swollen, begging for relief. And the only relief he’d give it would be found in you.

He first pressed it against your belly, grinding the length along the soft curve of it, smearing precum across your skin. You gasped at the weight, the heat, and the steady drag. He wanted you to feel how much he’d been holding back, how much he'd been starving.

"I want you to know what kind of animal you’ve created in me."

You weren’t a body. You were a banquet.

Your belly was the table he'd indulge in from now on, soft and full beneath his big hands as he pressed down and claimed it. Your breasts were goblets, spilling over like wine he meant to drink until he was sated. Your thighs —thick, generous, beautiful— were more delicious than any roast. Plump meat he could bite, chew, mark, and worship until you forgot any shame ever tied to your flesh.

He dragged his mouth just over your womanhood, biting circles and groaning into the soft weight like it was nourishment made just for him. His hand fisted around the base of his cock, squeezing it to keep from coming too soon. You whimpered when you felt it twitch against your leg, that steady throb getting you wetter as he laughed into your stomach.

“You feel that?” he whispered. “That’s starvation. That’s days of denial. That’s me about to eat you alive.”

And he did.

He went down slow, mouth tracing every curve on the way, tongue digging into the fold of your thigh, sucking hard until a bruise bloomed. He buried his face between your thighs and ate like a starved man. Messy, wet, tongue-stabbing, lips-sucking, jaw-aching. No pace, just greed.

No manners, just filth.

You squirmed, thighs closing in around his head, but his hands were already under them, lifting, spreading, and holding you wide. His heavy cock was now grinding against the bed beneath you, smearing precum into the sheets as he licked and sucked like a man too far gone. You pushed at his head once, and he growled a response —low, dangerous— and you froze, then moaned, realizing he wasn’t stopping until he had drawn every sound from your throat.

When you came, it was startling. A mess of gasps and cries, thighs trembling around his ears, and cunt gushing into his mouth. He held you down and kept going until your voice broke into begging. Not for mercy, but for more. Always more.

When he'd finally had his fill, your folds were swollen, wet, and glistening in the low light. His face was smeared with you, chin shining with spit and cum, as he crawled up your body slowly, dragging his cock on your flesh.

Leaving a slick trail across your belly and up between your breasts, by the time he reached your chest, it was throbbing against them, the swollen head slapping wetly against your collarbone. You looked at him, mouth parted, eyes hazy, as he fed you the tip like pressing his thumb to honey, just enough for you to taste what you’d made of him before he pulled back.

He smirked when you whimpered at the loss, then slid lower again, guiding himself back to where he belonged. His cock traced down your belly, leaving a wet smear as he shifted into place between your thighs.

He shoved your knees apart with a swift move and slid the head of his cock down the wet heat waiting for him. Didn't push inside, just pressed at your entrance, the swollen crown leaking against your folds.

Teasing wasn’t the word for it. It wasn’t patience, either. He was hovering at the edge of ruin, staring at it while licking his chops, just as needy as you.

“I will not hold myself back any longer," he rasped, his voice low with hunger.

“Please,” you whispered, wrecked already.

He didn’t ease in. He pressed down on your navel with one hand, lined his cock up with the other, and thrusted until you took him whole. Inch after inch. Thick, filling. Stretching you so wide, it made you claw at him with your nails on his arms, leaving your own marks as he claimed you.

He held you down, hands heavy on your stomach, loving the way it bulged slightly where he slid completely inside, and rubbed the spot with his palm as if he could feel himself through your skin.

He swore he did.

You screamed when he bottomed out, legs shaking, womb quivering under his hands. He pulled back, slow and deliberate, and then slammed in again, hard enough that the bedframe complained.

And then he fed.

He fucked you with anger, strokes mean and greedy, hips snapping until the sound of skin against skin drowned out your cries. Every thrust drove your body deeper into the mattress; every pull left more slick across his cock. Those rough, sword-worn hands never left your belly, pressing down to feel the fullness, to remind you and him that you were built to take it all.

You begged. You broke. You came again, loud and messy, soaking him.

He growled into your ear, “Starve me again, and I won't be so forgiving next time.” And he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He was a starving creature, and you were the only feast it would ever be satiated with.

When he spilled inside you, it wasn’t just a release; it was a roaring torrent. Days of denial poured out in thick, hot waves—so much that it dripped down your thighs when he finally pulled out. Rubbing it into your belly with his soaked fingers, he was marking you, feeding it back into your cunt.

After he collapsed beside you, cock still twitching, mouth still biting, hands still kneading. He pulled you against him, one hand holding your lower belly, fingertips teasing your pubic bone, the other wrapped around your throat, lightly squeezing, as he delivered a final warning.

One you will ignore.

"Run from me again, and I'll keep carving my hunger into you until you finally understand, my hunger never ends. It only waits for the next meal. And you... thick, soft, beautiful, inevitable you—are the only one that can satiate it."

The only feast he'd ever starved for.

The one he'd starve for again.

That night, when he mentioned their marriage bed, her face went bright pink, even as she agreed. It was as he was drawing a fourth- no, maybe fifth orgasm from her with his mouth and fingers alone, that the words fell from her lips- "I love you."

They're muffled by her thighs squeezing his head, but it's clear enough that he freezes and his head shoots up to look at her.

"Say that again," He begs, clawing his way up toward her face, nothing short of stars in his eyes.

Something magical happens when she takes his face in her hands and says them again, softer but more sure.

"I love you."

He is unsure if it was simply the heat of the moment or if she truly meant it, but it is a moment he will never forget. The sex they have after is passionate, not wild per se, but more emotional than before, and he is absolutely delighted when, instead of going back to her private chambers after, she falls asleep in his arms.

Their first time of feral sex was a few nights after. He had felt like he was living in a dream, waking with her in his bed, the kisses from her lips, as unsure as they still were, the gentle touches during the day, and how she shared his bed even when they weren't making love, it was all like a fairy tale.

She boldly climbed into his lap, surprising him and said told him to fuck her like one of those whores he loves so much. Now, he hadn't been with another woman since he realized he wanted to marry her months ago, but he admittedly had a reputation. Nāenelle did not fall first, but she is tied with him for falling hard, and the thought of him with any other woman, suddenly churned her stomach with jealousy.

Lyonel, ever the lover, was, of course, sweet to any man or woman he found himself sharing his bed with- but he didn't love them, and even if he did, it was not to the intensity he does her.

Her demands were clear enough to him. She didn't wish to be treated like a prostitute, but fucked like a woman who needed to be shown his devotion, needed to feel claimed by her husband. She wanted rough but loving, adoring yet frantic, as though he cannot help but lose himself in her.

So he obliged. He gave her all she yearned for and more, relishing in her clinging arms and biting nails, the way they raked along his back. He kissed her as though he couldn't breath without her lips, touched her as though he knew her body better than she herself, and in return she whimpered and moaned his name in a way he thought he could only dream, those same three words tumbling from her lips, urging him on.

By the time they were too exhausted to continue the sun was rising, and her body was covered in love bites from his constant attentions.

The first time she found herself feral and desperate for him outside of the bedroom shocks her. He, on the other hand, is more than happy to take her in the empty drawing room she'd all but dragged him to. He can't help but be a bit proud for having a hand in awakening her sexual appetites, and will gladly take responsibility for doing so.

She becomes a bit insatiable for a good few weeks as she starts to realize how genuinely attracted she is to, not only him, but many of his mannerisms.

As for hunts, Nāenelle doesn't usually partake, but on the road to tournies the others in their traveling party grow to hate them for keeping them up at night and for volunteering to help gather wood, only to come back an hour later, disheveled and empty-handed.

It's honesty a shock they didn't get pregnant sooner with how often they go at it.

2200, Thursday, July 3rd.

EMT classes sucked ass. They were fun at times, but lord. All I can say is I'm glad I'm done with class. That's a lie, imma talk my shit. The guys that were in the class acted like they knew everything even though us girls were bodying them everyday. I wouldn't be upset if I never saw any of those guys' faces ever again. the girls though? I miss them. I hope they get the jobs they want. women supporting women always. I'm lucky I got the job I wanted. I originally was going for private 911, but I applied for a Fire/EMS agency that was near where I live. My certs. where what they were looking for apparently because the interview was quick as hell. the Chief, Mr. Singer, was very nice. he gave off such dad vibes, like everyone in the department were his kids. he interviewed me, along with one of the paramedics, Cas i think his name was? well that was a week ago and tomorrow is my start day. tomorrow is also the fourth of july. what a great day to start on! WRONG! im about to see so many missing fingers and hand its not even funny. however ive always been the baptised by fire type i suppose, sink or swim you know? 

Anyway, I've got so much to do. Shower tonight because im not spending all day on the rig with wet hair, get my uniform ready and pack a backup in my bag just incase, pack my lunch because i dont know how they do meals here, some bedding for the bunk because im doing a 48hr, and get all my equipment that I want to bring, packed. I know they have stethiscopes in the BLS bag but I much prefer my pink one. Listen, it's not even my favorite color but if i have a chanse to make a male dominated field as girly as possible im taking it. pens? pink. Charting is all oline anyway so nobody is going to see it. Pen light? pink. rapters? pink. theyre off brand though, i dont have lettermen money. my point being, everything i can get in pink is pink. but i digress, i have shit to do and i have to get to bed, i have to be there by 0800 and i plan on getting there at least a half hour early so i can figure out where everything is and do an inspection on the ambulance to learn where everything is. 

0630, Friday July 4th.

“ugh, its way too fuckin early.”

Alright, I have a little over half an hour to get ready. The department is a fifteen minute drive from my apartment, so I want to leave no later than 0715. 

i mute my alarms and pull my blankets off. The morning air is cool in my apartment with the AC that's been running all night. I'll worry about fixing my bedding if I have time before I leave. I walk into the bathroom and flip the lights on. 

“Oh god, you'd think I fought a raccoon in my sleep... and lost.”

ill fuck with my hair after i brush my teeth and get my skincare out of the way. Should I wear any makeup today? It's not like I'll have any time for anything but mascara. eh, it's not worth it. I'll probably just end up getting it in my eyes while I'm working. Maybe I'll invest in a better mascara after my first paycheck. I'm running off fumes for money currently. 

i walk out of the bathroom and back into my bedroom to get changed. Looking into my mirror to make sure my uniform looked good, I turned to different ways to see how it fit. duty pants have always made my ass look good. I put my stethoscope and shit in their designated pockets and pick up my bags to head out to my car. 

With my bags in my passenger seat and my big ass water bottle there too, I can't get dehydrated on the job, so I get into the driver's seat and start her up. A ‘68 Corvette, cherry red. She was left to me by my dad when he passed. He loved his classics and passed that love onto me. i, however, was not very good at fixing cars like him. I learned the basics but could never figure out the rest.

“ooo listen to you purr girl,” I muttered. “Thats my favorite sound right there.”

peeling out of the apartment parking lot, I head to the Fire Department. Blasting music with the windows down is the best way to calm some nerves about starting a new job. 

As I get closer to the department I can see that they must have just got back from a fire of some sort, because they have the trucks pulled out in front of the bay and they are giving them a wash. 

I think my music may be a hair too loud because a few of the guys  washing the trucks turn their heads to look. just a quick look though. 

“Damn, what are they feeding the guys here? they're huge," I say to myself.

I make my way to the back of the building to park my car. grabbing my bags, i head in and walk to what i hope is the chiefs office. 

  “Yes,” I whisper to myself as I read the little name plate on the wall next to the door. “First try.”

I knock on the door and wait to hear the Chief Singer let me in. 

“Come in,” a gruffed voice calls out.

I open the door and head in.

“Ahh y/n! How's it going? ready to start?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” I answer.

“Please just call me Bobby,” Chief Singer gently corrects.

“you got it,” i relied

  i take a look around his office, its very minimalistic. seems like he prefers to be out with everyone else instead of held up behind a computer. Chief Sing- Bobby, stands up out of his chair and walks around the desk. he says he wants to get me introduced to everyone ill be working with for the next 48hrs and beyond.

“Really quick, where can I set my stuff down?” I questioned.

“Just set them here in my office for now, I'll have one of the girls show you to the female bunks later,” Bobby told me.

I set down my bags and water bottle and started walking with Bobby. He started to tell me where everything was, we made our way to the common area. There were some recliners and a couch. A TV was mounted to the wall with a movie playing. There were a couple people sitting in the recliners, a woman and two men. Bobby got their attention and introduced me, 

“Guys, this in y/n. She's our newest EMT, let's behave and not scare her away alright?”

The first to get up was the woman. She was roughly my age, and she had red hair in a sort of bob cut. She came up and introduced herself.

“Hey! My name is Charlie, I'm one of the EMTs. I'm also the only other EMT on shift currently, so it's us two and the two paramedics. Hopefully we’ll get to work on the rig together at some point!” 

“Hi, it's nice to meet you! I can't wait to get a chance to work with you,” I responded.

The next to say anything is a scruffy looking man, slightly on the shorter side. He's got a LEO uniform on so I'm not sure what he's doing here. 

“Hello, it's good to meet you.” The officer waves his hand from where he was sitting, and turns his attention back to the movie that was playing. He never gave me his first name but I could see his last name on his vest, Officer Crowley. cool last name if you ask me. I'm sure I'll get his first name at some point.

and lastly, the paramedic, Cas i think. he had gotten up out of his seat to greet me.

“good to see you again, y/n.” he said in his gruff voice. “You'll be riding with me for the first 24hrs. Ruby, our other paramedic, is with Charlie for that. the second half of your shift will be with charli on a BLS truck while I'm on the sprint unit.”

“oh shit i forgot that ruby wasn't going to be here tomorrow!" charli exclaimed.

“Looks like we'll get to work on the ambulance together sooner than we thought” i giggled, i could already tell that me and charli were going to be good friends. like hanging out outside of work type friends.

something caught Bobby's attention and he headed back to his office, paperwork probably.

“so, Cas right? Would you mind showing me around and showing me how you guys set up your trucks? I want to be at least somewhat familiar with the setup before we get a call.” I looked at Cas while I said this, and he brought his focus more towards me when I said ‘cas’ so I had gotten his name correct. thank god, otherwise this would have been very embarrassing.

“Yeah, let's head to the truck bay,” he started to walk towards what I would assume is the truck bay. I give a quick wave to charli who is back to watching the movie playing, and follow after cas.

we came up to the door for the bay and cas opened it. The bay doors are still open, and the trucks are still outside but it seems like the guys I saw earlier are done washing them, instead they are standing in a circle talking. There's a woman there talking with them too, wearing the same uniform shirt as Cas, making me assume that that would be Ruby, the other paramedic. 

I look around the truck bay, there's a ladder truck, an engine , and a tanker in front of their respective spaces, waiting to be pulled into the spots. closest to the door I just came in from, there were two ambulances. one in front of the other. and finally all the way on the other side of the bay was the sprint unit. to the right of me there's some more doors along the wall, what i can assume are the stock rooms for when we need to restock the ambulances. as well as probably the gear lockers.

“Hey!” cas shouted over to the group. 

The group looked over and some of them gave a small wave. Ruby’s face seemed to light up a small bit at the sight of me.

“hey, is this the new hire?” she asked as she walked over to me. “It's nice to meet you, it'll be good to have some more women around, me and charli are drowning in testosterone!” she laughed.

“hi, it's nice to meet you too!” I gave a chuckle. “I'm so glad you and charli are around, i dont think i could deal with being on my own.”

ruby laughed a bit and went back to where she was within the group. Speaking of the group, one of the guys made their way to greet me. He was spindly looking, kind of geeky but had a nice smile. He looked very kind.

“hi, welcome aboard, my name is Garth,” he said, sticking out his hand to shake mine. 

“im y/n, it's nice to meet you,” I gave a small smile and shook his hand.

“Well the whole crew isn't here right this minute, they scattered as soon as we started getting stuff to wash the trucks,” he laughed, a few of the others nodding and laughing as well. “but this is jack,” he pointed to a man with a baby face, and a goofy little smile. “This is Gabriel," he moved over to the shortest of the group, he looked me up and down and wiggled his eyebrows but gave a chuckle and reached his hand out to shake mine. I could tell he must be the jokester of the group and that he was just playing around. Garth then pointed to the tallest of the group. and by tallest i mean this man is a giant, although that could be because hes standing next to gabriel but i had to physically move my head upwards to look him in the eyes. “That there is Sam, if you have a question about anything, ask him, he knows a ton,” said man gave a shy smile and shook my hand while saying a gentle ‘hi’. I shook his hand and gave him a smile as well. Finally I look over to see what I would consider a literal angel on earth. This man was etherically beautiful. not much shorter than sam, beautiful green eye that i could just get lost in for days. beautifully tanned skin with a dusting of adorable freckles. wide ass shoulders and a slutty little waist, im sure if i could see him from the back hes got a great as too. This man was a walking wet dream. “last but not least is Dean.”

“Nice to meet you,” I stuck my hand out to shake his. god his hands are huge.

“Nice to meet you too,” Dean said with a smirk. He gave my hand a light squeeze before letting go. 

“well, now that you're acquainted with a good majority of the guys, lets head over to the rig and ill go over everything with you,” Cas spoke from beside me. I nodded in agreement, gave a quick wave to everyone and began walking away with cas. This is going to be a good day. I think I'll like it here just fine.

“You can come to me, you know.” You mumble to him noncommittally. Sam looks over at you with furrowed brows, waterline dark with makeup.

“Huh?”

“Alyssa wasn’t home, so you spiraled. But…before her you always used to come to me, you still can.” You look back over at him, cheeks flushing. “You know, if she isn’t available.” You shrug, trying to accept the idea of being second best. You’ve been second best your entire life, you hate it, but for Sam…for Sam you would do anything, be anything, whatever it is he wanted or needed.

“Thanks.” Is all he says, because he doesn’t know how to say anything else normal. All he wants to say are these gross sappy things, things that would definitely turn you off from him. The first time he slipped up and said something like that to Alyssa, she ghosted him for the next few days. He can’t afford to lose you. So…

I’m in love with you.

I’ve loved you since we were kids. You’re my best friend.

You’re perfect in every way, beautiful inside and out.

Your smile makes me melt, and your frown makes me frown too.

Why can’t I stop being such a pussy?

Why can’t I just tell you that I…

“Thanks.” Mumbled and not at all what he’d wanted to say.

“Of course.” You mumble back, looking down at your book.

***

He doesn’t come to you. Instead, he disappears for the next few days. You call the school and learn he’s been skipping, try to call him and no one answers. His dad must be gone, and he’s too busy to answer…except he’s never busy with anything enough to ignore the phone. Unless he’s doing something…self-destructive.

“Shit!” You scream as you leave your house and bolt across the street. The second you touch the doorstep, you start knocking like crazy. You wait only a few seconds, hearing nothing and no one answering so you grab the spare key. You open the door and walk inside, slamming it shut and locking it before running up the stairs. You trip a couple times, but you never stop running, quickly snatching your bag back up when you drop it.

You pound on his door like your life depends on it…or his. The music is blasting inside, too loud to hear him if he says something. You press your ear to the door but only hear loud bass.

“Fucking open the door!” You scream, still pounding on it. “Samuel, if you don’t open this door in the next fifteen seconds I’m fucking breaking it down!”

He can hear your voice as you shout. It should be loud but it’s the same volume as his music, suddenly so low and muffled like he’s drowning underwater.

“Please, Sam!”

You sound so scared…why are you scared?

“You have ten seconds and this door is fucking coming down!” You warn one last time.

He should get up, should open the door to avoid being scolded by his father. He tries to move but his body just feels so heavy, he feels like he may be dead…and your voice is simply a figment of his imagination. He never believed in heaven, and knew if it existed he wouldn’t get in…but if he is dead and he can still hear you, he must have managed it somehow.

“I’m coming in!” You shout next, pulling your foot up. You’re still wearing your thick combat boots that you’d slipped on. You level your heel up right above the doorknob and butt up against the doorframe. You kick the door once, hearing it rattle in protest. You kick it again, force only growing harsher with the adrenaline running through you. You need to get to him. You kick one more time and the wood cracks. You push it open with your body, sending it flying back against the wall.

You search in front of you, scanning the bed before looking to your right. Your breath catches the moment you lay eyes on him.

Sitting beside his nightstand, right up against the wall. His legs are spread in front of him, arms resting on them, forearms up. His beautiful pale skin is covered in scarlet.

“Sam!” You scream, falling to the ground in front of him. You throw your bag to the side, immediately grabbing his arms and pulling them up to your face. He mumbles your name as his eyes flutter, you still look so scared. You also look so beautiful, hair up and messy. You’re holding his arms…he starts to cry before he can even realize. He’s filled with too many emotions, everything that he’d worked so hard to bottle up coming out.

“I’m sorry.” He cries and sniffles. Your face falls, shoulders sagging.

“Don’t apologize.” You beg. “It’s okay, Sam.” You say gently, trying to push against his arms as more blood flows. “You’re okay.” You breathe, looking down at the mess of red on your hands and up your own arms. “Fuck.” You cry, eyes watering. You pull back and lift your shirt over your head, pulling it off and pressing it against his arms.

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounds even more broken, hoarse and weak. He watches you with bleary eyes, wondering why you’re doing all this for him.

“Please, stop apologizing.” You plead with teary eyes, still staring down at his arms. “It’s okay, Sammy. You didn’t do anything wrong, you’re okay.”

“I didn’t-“ He tries but his voice cracks and you stop him.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. Just…don’t worry about it, don’t worry about anything.” You slowly look back up at him, face serious. “Can you stand?” Sam slowly processes your words before hesitantly nodding. “Come on.” You stand up first and help him, holding his arms and pressing against the shirt soaking up his blood. He stumbles a bit and you grab onto him, one arm wrapping around his waist while the other rests on his torso. “You okay?” He nods.

You lead him towards the bathroom outside his bedroom. You push him inside and walk in after him, turning on the sink before pulling your shirt off his arms. You grab both of them and gently hold them under the cold water. Sam hisses and jerks back but you keep his arms under, apologizing profusely.

“I know…I know, but I need to stop the bleeding so I can bandage them.” You explain, slowly pulling your hands away when he stops flinching. “I need to grab my bag.” You whisper. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice rumbles.

“Five seconds.” You say before running back to his room then straight back. You drop your bag in the doorway and move back to his side. You pull his arms out and inspect them, brows furrowing. You look so cute. You gently press at the skin around one of his wounds, watching as only a couple droplets bubble up. “Perfect, come on.” You turn the water off and set the toilet seat down, forcing him to sit down. He slouches against it, feeling so exhausted.

“Swallow these.” He closes his eyes for two seconds and you’re shoving pills past his lips. His whips his eyes open, jerking his head back from you and scowling. “It’s just Tylenol, I’m not trying to fucking drug you.” You huff impatiently. “Take them.” He lets you put them in his mouth and you hand him your water bottle. He swallows them and when he tries to give your bottle back, you push it away. “Drink more. Half of that water better be gone when I take it back from you.” Sam smiles to himself, just a little. You always managed to make him feel better…just by being yourself.

You pull out a personal first aid kit from your bag, filled with your own things instead of what other people think you need. You grab some hydrogen peroxide and a medium-sized cotton pad. You soak it in peroxide before slowly holding it over one of his arms.

“Sammy?” You get his attention and he hums, head resting against the wall. “This is gonna hurt like fucking hell, just a warning.” Before he can question you, or even say a single thing in response, you start rubbing it over his arm and he hisses. “I’m sorry.” You mumble, eyes tearing again. His hand tightly grips the edge of the bathroom counter, trying to find purchase. You finally finish and pull away, hearing him release a loud sigh of relief. You soak another pad and hold it to his other arm. “One more time, Sammy.” You whisper sweetly, rubbing it over his skin.

His other arm starts tensing as you wipe down the second. You move your free hand into his, squeezing his once to signal what he’s meant to do. He starts squeezing your hand like a stress ball, using you to ground himself. “Done!” You quickly pull away from his arm and grab your other materials.

“Thank god.” Sam grumbles, throwing his head against the wall again.

“I thought you didn’t thank him for anything?”

“I usually don’t.” But I’d thank him for bringing you to me…every damn time, no matter how much I hate the bastard.

“I’m the one you should be thanking, mister.” You grumble. “God isn’t sitting here bandaging your arms, that’s all me baby.” You place a thick cotton pad over his arm and tape it down with a couple pieces of medical tape.

“Why?” Sam asks, voice quiet.

“Why what?”

“Why are you?” You look up at him with furrowed brows.

“As in…why am I bandaging you up?” He nods and you almost scoff at the ridiculousness. “Why wouldn’t I be?” You do scoff now. “Sam, I care about you. I’m sitting here helping you because I-“ You stop yourself. “Because you’re my best friend and I’d do anything for you. Anything and everything, whatever you wanted, whatever you needed.” You stop yourself, realizing how whipped you’re sounding. “I just…care.” You trail off as you wrap one of his arms.

“Thank you.” He settles again.

I’m in love with you.

You’re beyond perfect.

You have no idea how much this means to me…how much you mean to me.

You look so beautiful.

I’ve never had anyone take care of me like this. I’ve always dreamed of it…secretly. I’m glad you’re the one doing it.

I trust you with my entire life.

I fucking love you.

No, he settles for a half-assed, ‘thank you.’

“Anytime.” You say. “But I really hope there isn’t a next time…” You whisper to yourself, but he hears it. He shuts his eyes as you finish bandaging him, relishing in the feeling of your hands on him. He looks over and sees your t-shirt on the counter, drenched in blood. His brows furrow as he glances down at you, finding you only in a striped bra. How the hell did he miss that before?! Oh right, he was actively bleeding out.

You tore your own shirt right off your back to save him. You looked so horrified for him, not at him like most would look, but *for* him. You were scared for him, you were so worried. You pulled your own shirt off to stop the bleeding, to save him. You’re sitting here wrapping his arms with the gentleness of a mother. You’re caring for him like it’s just so fucking easy.

I love you so fucking much.

I will never love anyone the way I love you.

I only went out with Alyssa because I knew I couldn’t have you.

You’re my best friend, and two years older than me.

You’re so mature, so smart. You deserve someone just like that, just as smart and perfect in every way. I’m a mess, I’m horrible…you deserve everything.

I love you so much it hurts.

I love you.

He wants to say it all and he thinks he almost slips up but you cut him off as you start talking again. You’re smiling up at him and tilting your head as you look in his eyes.

“What?” You look so suspicious it’s making his stomach churn. He glances at his arms, now fully bandaged.

“You’re listening to ‘Risk.’” You say with a smirk. Sam’s eyes widen as he listens to the music in the background, still rumbling from his room. It is ‘Risk’…a song by Deftones you’d told him to listen to. He told you he wouldn’t, but you gave him the CD anyway and told him to listen to track nine. He had played it…and he had loved it. It was now forced on repeat so he could listen to it over and over. It reminded him of you, because it was yours and because the lyrics made him think of you.

‘I will save your life’

‘I will save your life’ With that gorgeous riff, always making his heart ache in such a poetic way.

‘I’ll try for you’

‘Come outside’

‘And breathe in’

‘Relax your arms’

‘And let me in’

‘I’ll find a way’

‘To confuse them’

‘But I think I can try’

‘I will save your life’ And here you were sitting in front of him, that giant smile on your face that forces one on his own, saving his life.

“Whatever.” He playfully rolls his eyes.

“It’s on repeat!” You call him out, pointing at him as you sit up to lean closer. “You like it!”

“No-“

“You totally love it! I knew it!” You giggle and stand up, putting your things back in your bag. “I told you that you would. I’m always right, you really need to start trusting me.” You tell him, looking back at him with your hands on your hips. He tries to respond, come up with a witty retort, he really does. But you’re standing there in front of him without a shirt on, boobs pressed up by your bra and looking so fucking soft. Your smile is intoxicating, better than any drug he could possibly do. You just saved his fucking life and cleaned up his arms. That’s what really gets him, what somehow only adds to his overwhelming need for you, that you took care of him and that you wanted to.

“Sam?” You furrow your brows and follow his gaze, glancing down. “Oh shit.” You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m sorry, I forgot.” Your cheeks go pink with embarrassment and Sam forces himself to stop staring.

“It’s fine.” He says.

It isn’t fine, I want to fucking eat you.

I want to shove my face in your chest…between your thighs. I want to bury myself in you somewhere, anywhere, and never come up for air.

I want to kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. I want to kiss you everywhere, show you how much I love every goddamn inch.

Please don’t be embarrassed, you’re so gorgeous. And hot, and sexy, and every other fucking word in the dictionary that means ‘pretty.’

I love you.

I love your body…

I love your brain and your smile.

Your laugh.

I love you.

God, your tits are literally fucking perfect, how is that even possible?!

He doesn’t say any of that either.

“Do you-“ You cut yourself off. “Nevermind, I think I have a sweater in here.” You say, bending down to rummage through your giant bag. Sam looks at your ass, because of course he does. Your ass has always been a hypnotizing thing for him. It’s been pretty big your whole life, but by age sixteen it had doubled in size. Now, at age twenty it was absurdly huge and so grabbable. All he’s ever wanted to do is grab onto it. He’s dreamed of gripping it from behind while he pounds into-

“Sam?” You ask, waving a hand in his face.

“Yeah?” He shakes his head with wide eyes, looking up at you.

“You feel okay?” You whisper, both hands resting on either one of his cheeks. You look down at him with those sparkling eyes, drowning in concern. You sound so sweet, you’re always sweet, especially to him.

“Great.” He whisper back, trying not to start panting like a fucking dog.

“Are you hungry?” You ask, head tilting to the side.

“Not really.”

“When was the last time you ate?” You ask, eyes narrowed.

“This morning.”

“Good enough.” You huff. “Wait-“ You grab your water bottle from the counter and shake it. “You drank all of it?” You smile and look into it. “Good job, baby.” You mumble, mostly to yourself as you set it back in your bag. Sam feels sparks zip up his entire body at your words. The things he’d do to hear you say that to him while he fucks you. He’d kill a man, sell his soul to the devil, anything. “I’ll let you skip out on food.” You say, gently grabbing his wrist and helping him up. “You should get some rest though.” You lead him back to his room, looking over at the broken door.

Sam follows your gaze and sighs, but ultimately smiles to himself.

“I’ll fix that. Hopefully before your dad gets home.” You mumble anxiously, letting him plop down on his bed while you glance around his room. “Sam, I need to ask you something.” You say, looking back at him. He looks up at you, arms in his lap as he hums in acknowledgment. You turn his music down just a bit before continuing. “You need to tell me the truth, okay? This is important.”

“Okay?”

“Where’d you leave the blade?” You whisper meekly. Sam’s heart drops down into his ass as his face falls. You can see his hesitance. “Please.” You beg.

“Nightstand.” He mumbles, pointing. You rush over and grab the bloody blade, holding back tears as you pocket it.

“Do you have any others?”

“No.” Too quick, he’s defensive. That’s exactly what you sounded like every time you lied about it.

“Where, Sam?” You say, walking over to him. “Please. How many others? Where are they?” You grab his face again, forcing him to look up at you. His eyes are teary as he stares at you, trying so hard not to cry again.

“Four.” He mumbles. “Two in the drawer.” He says pointing back to his nightstand. “Two in a box under my bed.” You nod and smile.

“Thank you, Sammy.” You whisper, kissing his forehead. “I’ll deal with them later.” You pull away and rub circles across his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Why’d you come over?” Sam asks with furrowed brows.

“Heard you hadn’t been in school, and I hadn’t seen you or heard from you. I got worried, and more worried when you didn’t pick up the phone.” You shake your head. “I had…a gut feeling that something was wrong so I came over.” You hold back tears.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, wiping one away.

“That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.” You huff, pulling away from him. “Do you really not know the answer to that?” He slowly shakes his head. “I don’t hear from my best friend in four days, I find out he hasn’t been at school, he won’t answer my calls. I’m worried out of my fucking mind and I come over here and find out I had every right to be worried! I find my best friend bleeding out on his fucking bedroom floor, and he starts crying when he never fucking cries. He starts apologizing and it breaks my goddamn heart-“ You pause, holding back a sob. “Why would I not cry? All the pain you must have been in to fucking…do that!” You run your hands down your face. “If you had gone just a little lower and a little deeper you’d be fucking dead.” You choke out.

“Oh.” Sam manages to breathe.

“Do you fucking get that?” Sam’s jaw goes slack. “Do you?!” He nods slowly, reluctantly. “You would have died and I would have lost my best fucking friend. I know what it’s like so please-“

“Don’t say that.” He grunts.

“Say what?”

“Don’t try and pretend like you understand, like you know-“

“I do fucking know!” You scream, stepping closer to him after you’d backed away. “And the hundreds of scars I have on my body fucking prove that.” You whisper weakly, making his eyes go wide. “I know exactly what you were thinking that entire time, and I know the one thought that circled your mind the most.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “‘No one will miss me if I’m gone.’” Your voice cracks.

That’s exactly what he‘d been thinking.

“Well it’s fucking bullshit!” You scream. “I’d fucking miss you, I’d fucking die without you. I need you, Sam.” You cry. “I need you here, I want you, I-“ You pause to try and catch your breath, starting to lose air.

“Hey.” Sam panics, abruptly standing up and striding towards you. His hand rests against your chest, the other moving to grab yours. “It’s okay, calm down.”

“I would miss you.” You whisper. “I would.”

“I know.”

“Clearly you don’t.” You choke.

“I just…”

“Sam.” You cry, shaking your head.

“You deserve better.” Finally he’s able to say one of the things he’s always wanted. It isn’t the top of his list but…progress.

“What?”

“Than me.” His voice breaks. “You deserve better than me.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that!” You lightly hit his chest. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve!”

“You don’t understand how perfect you are.” Sam whispers, he’s opened the flood gates now. “How smart and sweet…you deserve someone just as smart and sweet, you deserve the best you…you deserve everything.” His voice is strangled.

“You’re right, I do deserve everything.” You whisper, wiping away tears. “And I deserve everything I want, right?”

“Exactly.” Sam nods.

“You’re everything I fucking want.” You say, making his eyes widen. “I deserve what I want, I deserve the best. I fucking want you and you are the best for me. I don’t want someone just like me, I want you! You. My best friend, the guy who can make me laugh no matter how deep I’ve fallen, the guy who can pull me out of a dark place with just a few words, the guy who makes me feel so amazing, so perfect. The guy who makes me feel wanted…not just needed but actually wanted, you want to talk to me, want to see me. You’re exactly what I deserve and what’s best for me because you’re my fucking soulmate and I’m disgustingly in love with you.”

“You’re…what?” Sam looks shocked to his very core.

“I’m fucking in love with you.”

“How long?” He asks, jaw slack.

“Since I met you.” You whisper. “For as long as I’ve known you.” You rest your hands on his chest when you see he doesn’t pull away.

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yes, idiot.” You chuckle, swooning at the giddy smile on his face.

“I’m in love with you too.” He whispers, that same smile glued to his face.

“Yeah…I sort of gathered that.” You laugh. “You’re looking at me like I just hung the fucking moon and the stars or some shit.”

“That’s how I always look at you.” He whispers. “You’re so perfect. I’ve wanted to tell you so much for so long…everything I love about you, how much I love you.” Oh no, he can’t stop now. “That I love your smile and your laugh. That you always manage to make me feel better no matter how hard I protest, and that you make me feel so safe. That you’re so fucking beautiful and I only even went out with Alyssa because I thought I’d never have a chance with you.” He stops, catching his breath as he watches your expression. He’s worried he’s fucked it all up, that you’ll push him away and tell him he’s so gross.

You fist your hands in his shirt and pull him into a bruising kiss. It’s messy, tongues licking and spit dribbling, noses bumping and teeth clashing…but fuck does it feel so good. You pull away to finally breathe and whisper against his lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say those kinds of things to me. You have no fucking clue…fuck, I love you.” You crash your lips into his again and he swears he sees the gates of heaven.

His hands move to rest on your waist, squeezing it and groaning at the feeling. Your fat squishes so nicely in his hands, he can feel his eyes roll back into his head. No one could ever compare to you...not when every other girl around here is so tiny it's borderline concerning.

He's always loved you, your body. He was never able to appreciate porn because none of the girls ever looked like you, and that's all he wanted. Your hands move up and wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your hands tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. He sighs into your mouth, almost a whimper but barely stifled. He tries to be normal, tries to be quiet, or if he can’t he tries to sound…less like a pathetic virgin.

You can tell he’s holding back, hear every time he stifles a sound and it makes you very upset. If Sam actually makes the sounds that are desperately trying to escape him, he will sound like the most pathetic guy who ever lived, unbelievably desperate for you and whiny. What he doesn’t realize is that’s exactly what you want him to sound like, what you’re dying to hear.

You try everything you can to push him just far enough to make one of those delicious sounds he’s holding in.

You pull at his hair a bit, earning a low rumbling groan that makes you shiver. Good…but not what you want.

You run your nails across his scalp, making his grip on you grow tighter and his hips jerk forward. That’s when you feel how hard he is, and how badly he wants you. He still doesn’t make a sound, just heavy breaths as he messily makes out with you.

You pull away for air and lean into his neck, kissing down it as you try to find a sensitive spot. Everyone has one somewhere, one particular spot that makes their body jolt and makes sounds escape their lips before they can catch them.

You kiss down the side of his neck, biting and licking occasionally. You move down to his jaw, then closer to his shoulder and across his collar bones, marking him up like you’re a goddamn vampire. He doesn’t stop you, doesn’t beg to fuck you, because any touch he receives from you will always be enough. He feels so at peace, blissful and drowning in pleasure. He loses himself in the feeling of your lips on his neck, breathing heavily but otherwise keeping his sounds to himself.

You almost give up, trailing back up the other side of his neck. You decide to relent, pressing a kiss just behind his ear before you try to pull away. The moment your lips brush the skin there, his breath hitches.

Fucking bingo.

You press a wet kiss to the spot and he gasps, hands gripping your hips as he shamelessly grinds against your stomach. You nip him there once and he breathes out a shaky whine, biting his lips afterward. He tries to stifle them again but then you lick that spot so slowly and erotically that he decides ‘fuck it.’

He whimpers as you suck a hickey into that spot, licking, kissing and biting. Sam keeps grinding against you, his cock sliding across the fat of your stomach through his sweats. He pulls on your waist to keep you close, grinding against you with needy whimpers. You pull away from his neck to look up at him, his eyes dazed.

“Sorry.” He whispers through pants.

“Don’t apologize.” You whisper back, reaching down and gripping him through his pants, stopping his movements. The second you touch him he keens, head tilting forward and resting in the crook of your neck. You squeeze him and he almost chokes, biting down on your shoulder until you release a shaky moan.

“I can’t-“ He tries, cutting himself off with a groan. His hips buck against your hand of their own accord.

“Can’t what?” You ask softly, slowing your movements. He whines in protest and you ask him again. “Can’t what, baby? You want me to stop?”

“No.” He begs, face hidden in your neck as his cheeks flame red.

“Then what? Hm?” You squeeze him once and make him gasp.

“I won’t…last long if you keep doing that.” He whispers nervously.

“Normally I wouldn’t give a shit, but I want you to cum inside me so-“

“What?” He chokes, finally pulling away to meet your eyes. His own are glassy and wide, pupils dilated and swallowing the blue.

“I said, normally I wouldn’t care if you finish quickly, I find it hot actually. But I want you to cum inside of me and I refuse to waste a single drop.” You whisper, staring up at him. “Understand now?” He nods slowly…*when did you get so dominant?* “Good.” You kiss him deeply, head tilted to the side as you lick into his mouth. You push him towards his bed until he falls onto it. You clamor into his lap and straddle him, arms wrapped around his neck. His own wrap around your middle, holding you close.

You grind down against him and moan at the feeling. Sam tries to quiet himself so he can hear you properly. His arms push under your sweater and touch your bare skin, which is when you finally remember why you came here in the first place. You pull away from him abruptly, eyes frantic and worried.

“What?” Sam asks, wondering what he’d done wrong.

“You’re supposed to be resting.” You mumble, pulling his arms from behind you. You look down at them, making sure no blood has seeped through.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m being selfish. You need to rest not-“

“I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for the last three years.” He blurts out, voice low. “If anyone’s being selfish here, it’s me. I’m not leaving this spot for anything, not until I have you.” You shiver and it wracks through your whole body, his voice and his eyes doing something to you.

“Promise to sleep afterwards?” You whisper against his lips.

“Promise.” He smiles.

“I’ve been dreaming about you for just as long.” You mumble. “So you better hurry up and fuck me like you mean it, emo boy.” You poke his nose and he smirks. He throws you onto the bed before crawling up and over you. You squeak in surprise and giggle when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. God, you’re just so adorable.

You roll your hips up into his, feeling his cock slide against your folds. You moan and Sam loses all his patience. He rips his shirt over his head and pulls down his sweats. You follow his movements and pull off your sweater, then pull at your jeans. Sam’s in his boxers as you’re still trying to pull your jeans down.

“I knew these jeans were too tight.” You grumble to yourself. Sam reaches out with a chuckle and pulls them down and off of you. You sigh when they’re finally off of you, smiling up at him. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He pecks your lips. “And they aren’t too tight.” He mutters. “I’d argue they aren’t tight enough.”

“Any tighter and there’d be nothing left to the imagination.”

“Exactly.” He smirks against your neck, marking you up so you match him.

“You really want other guys to see me in jeans like that?” You retort, making him pull away and scowl down at you.

“Never mind.”

“Uh-huh.” You laugh and roll your eyes. You kiss him as his hand trails down your stomach and past the waistband of your underwear. You whine when his fingers slide through your folds, slick collecting on them. Sam groans at the feeling alone, quickly pulling away to rip your underwear down your legs. He throws them to the side and spreads your legs, settling between them as he runs his fingers through you again. You gasp and jerk your hips up. Sam pulls his fingers back to watch your sticky arousal make a string from his fingertips to your pussy.

“Holy shit.” He grunts, eyes blown wide.

“What?” You ask through pants.

“You’re so wet.” He mumbles, running his fingers through you again.

“Yeah-“ You pause when he rubs over your clit. “N-no fucking shit.” You throw your head back when he applies more pressure.

“I didn’t know it could get this wet.” He says, fingers moving down to your entrance.

“Seriously?” You ask. “Did Alyssa not get this wet?”

“No.” He shakes his head before grimacing. “And I’d rather not hear her name when I’m in bed with you.” You laugh.

“Clearly she didn’t appreciate you enough.” You mutter.

“Apparently not.” He says, pushing a finger into you. Your head is thrown back against his pillow, eyes screwed shut as you pant. This time it’s you trying to suppress all the sounds you want to make. Sam notices just as you had with him, you know each other too well.

He wants to hear you, wants to make you fucking scream for him. He trails kisses down your neck, pushes a second finger into you, curls his finger up to hit that one spot. That move makes you crack and whine a bit, but not as much as he wants. He doesn’t know what to do next, everyone is different, so he doesn’t know which option would make you feel more pleasure.

He picks an option on a whim, decides on it and doesn’t look back. He pulls his boxers down, not bothering to discard them. He strokes himself at the sight of you, taking his fingers as you pant and throw your head back. He has to stop when the familiar knot in his stomach threatens to snap. You’re so fucking perfect, he could cum just by looking at you. He quickly pulls his fingers out of you and you whine in protest. Before you can even say a word, he’s pushing his tip inside you.

“Shit.” You breathe shakily, looking down at where he’s pushing into you.

“Okay?” He asks.

“Yes, god yes.” You sigh.

“Don’t bring him into this.” He smirks. “I’m the one making you feel good, not god.”

“Right.” You chuckle and smile, gasping when he pushes in deeper. You let him push into you slowly and when he finally thrusts all the way inside, you both moan. His is choked and strangled, while yours is high-pitched and whiny. “Sam.” You sigh.

“Love hearing you say my name.” He mumbles against your neck, covering it in more purple marks.

“Move, please.” You beg. “I need it, Sammy.” He thrusts into you without warning, making you gasp.

“Shit.” He groans, looking down as he thrusts into you again. He watches his cock slip out of you, covered in your slick, before pushing back into you and stretching you around him. When you release a string of stifled squeaky moans, he thinks he’s made the right choice, he just needs to find that one spot again. He pulls at your legs and forces them up and over his shoulders, folding you as he thrusts into you. You gasp and arch your back, he’s close.

He grabs your hips tightly, using them to pull you down as he thrusts up again.

“Oh fuck!” You scream, head thrown back again. He found it.

“Right there, yeah?” He mumbles, kissing your legs as he continues the same pace, thrusting just as deep without faltering his rhythm.

“Yes, oh fuck!” You moan as your eyes roll back, gasping for air. “Sammy!” You whine, reaching out for him.

“I got you, baby.” He whispers, leaning down when you try to grab at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Kiss, please.” You plead, eyes teary. “Please, kiss me.”

“You don’t have to beg.” He smiles and kisses you, swallowing your moans. “I’d give you anything you fucking want.” He breathes against your lips.

“Fucking-“ You groan. “So fucking good, holy shit!” You growl the words out, back arching up as you whine for him.

“Bet that jerk Nathaniel never fucked you this good.” Sam mumbles, thrusting into you as his stomach tenses.

“Do not say his name right now, fuck!” You hiss, moaning afterwards. “But fuck, no he didn’t.” You cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks. “So fucking close, Sammy, please!”

“Me too, baby.” He whispers, reaching down to rub circles over your clit. “Cum for me, cum all over my cock…know you can.”

“Fuck!” You squeal, panting as your body tenses up and your eyes screw shut. “Fucking-I’m gonna-“ You whine. “Shit!” You scream as you feel that knot break, all the pleasure consuming you. You release a string of high-pitched moans that would put every pornstar to shame. Sam whimpers as he gets closer, letting your legs down as he continues thrusting into you. His pace is frantic as he chases his own orgasm.

“So good, Sammy.” You whisper in his ear when his head moves into your neck again. “Fuck me so good.” Sam chokes on a high-pitched moan of his own, becoming a whimpering mess as he shoves himself as deep as possible and starts cumming inside of you. “Fuck yes.” You sigh, eyes shut in pure bliss. “So fucking good.” Sam finally slows his hips and lays on top of you, relishing in the kisses you press into his hair. “You okay?”

“Better than okay.” He whispers back, kissing your shoulder. “I love you so much.”

“I love you just as much.” You grin up at him. “I must say I am a little jealous now though.” His brows furrow. “Knowing you probably fucked Alyssa that good too.”

“I thought I told you not to say her name.” Sam groans and rolls his eyes.

“Well what else was I supposed to say?!” You laugh.

“She who shall not be named.”

“Right, of course.” You roll your eyes.

“And I didn’t fuck her like that.” He says, leaning closer so your faces are inches apart. “It was always rushed…half-assed, I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “You’re the only one I could ever fuck that good.”

“I’m so honored.” You smirk and Sam grumbles, making you giggle.

“You’re such a bitch.” Sam laughs, resting his head against your chest.

“I know.” You laugh back. You’re quiet for a while until Sam ultimately breaks the silence again.

“Will you stay?” He whispers.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

“Good.” You both get up after that, cleaning up before going right back to his bed. He pulls you close and holds you tightly, trying to prove to himself that you’re real, that all of this is real.

“I love you, Sammy.” You whisper, breath evening out as you drift asleep.