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storiesofaot · 1 month ago

Note

Cookie in exchange for LeviHan sickfic?🥺

Here's the cookie 🍪

And here's the fic prompt😁:

LeviHan sickfic set in the Year 851 during the winter (Hange's Commander but Eren hasn't left Paradis yet). They've recently entered a romantic relationship soon after reclaiming Wall Maria. She/her pronouns for my girl plz🤞

Hange's overworking to get the Scout Regiment back on its feet and eventually falls sick with the flu but tries to work through it until Levi decides she's too disgusting and unhygienic from her constant sneezing (which he finds cute) runny nose and other symptoms forcing her to rest and nurses her back to health.

Hii Anon, I hope you're still around! I'm sorry, your prompt has been sitting in my inbox for some time, but the longfic I have been uploading over the past few weeks took up pretty much all the writing time I had, which is why I'm only finishing this now. 🙈 I still hope you'll enjoy this sickfic nonetheless! I'll be crossposting it on Ao3 as a seperate fic as well, since it turned out a little longer than expected haha. And of course, thank you for the cookie!! 🍪

I Love You, Too.

Word Count: 3.946

Rating: T (for language)

Canon-compliant. Sickfic. Fluff.

On top of that, with the Titans outside the walls now gone, there was even less drive for young people to join the Scout Regiment. Yet they had lost so many soldiers during the Battle of Shiganshina, and with the lack of new recruits, it was tough to get anything done—they were in dire need of more people.

Levi should’ve known better than to let Hange push through the early stages of the cold she’d been carrying around for several weeks now. It had been making its way through the younger Scouts, each coming down with the sniffles or a cough one after the other as soon as autumn had fully settled in. But with Hange constantly interacting with them, she always kept catching new versions of it. Most of the kids were over it by now, but she was still struggling, and the current cold, wet winter weather wasn’t helping either.

And now that Hange was the new Commander, the weight of the situation was starting to drive her crazy.

“You should call it a day,” Levi told her when, once again, he found her still sitting in her study late at night. She was bent over some papers, an untouched plate of dinner he’d brought her about two hours ago still sitting on one side of her desk, and next to it, a heap of what were likely already-used handkerchiefs. He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Hange didn’t even grant him a reaction and continued scribbling away. Only when he poked a finger into the back of her head did she let out a tired grunt, swatting his hand away.

"Oi, Hange!” he called out, and this time he was finally met with an absentminded Hm, and he rolled his eyes. “Stop working.”

“Stop talking,” she mumbled back, suddenly flipping through a list of names before scribbling something into her book. “Please,” she added for good measure, likely noticing his testiness. But she still wasn't looking up and continued sniffling and wiping her nose with her sleeve. Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I will, if you eat." Determined to bring at least a little bit of order to the pigsty she was currently holed up in, he picked up an empty box from one corner of her room. Using a discarded piece of paper, which he folded to make it sturdier, he pushed the used handkerchiefs into the box without having to touch them.

“All right, Mr. Pain-in-the-Butt. I’m taking a bite, see?” Hange made a show of deliberately shoving a spoonful of her dinner into her mouth. She chewed a few times, then froze. "Isn’t this supposed to be mashed potatoes?” she mumbled around the food.

“Close your mouth,” Levi replied, then added, “Yes. It still is."

“Then why does it taste… odd?”

“I added some extra onions and garlic,” he explained after a short pause, setting the box aside. “It should help with your clogged sinuses.”

“Yikes,” she said, warily eyeing the plate. Bringing the food close to her face, she sniffled, then grimaced. "Levi, I don’t know if I can eat that.”

"Tsk, you can’t even smell it,” he huffed, taking the plate from her hands and lifting it to his face. He inhaled. Sure, the garlic was strong, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as she was making it out to be. "And how are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

“How am I supposed to eat this if it tastes like you threw the entire garlic and onion stash into it?” Hange snatched the plate back, took another spoonful, and shuddered as she forced the food down. Immediately, she reached for her glass of water and took several gulps before slamming it back down.

Levi sighed. Well, at least the meal was making her drink something.

He usually wasn’t that pushy. But things were a little different now. This was Hange, his comrade, his friend. His… whatever she was, after they’d had that little unexpected moment at the beach a few months ago.

He still couldn’t quite believe it had happened there—of all places she could’ve kissed him—and with that slimy thing in her hand. He called it an accident; she was convinced it had been inevitable. Nevertheless, it had been another step in their already deep and steady relationship… yet one he was still struggling to get used to.

Falling in love wasn’t something he’d ever thought was in the cards for him. But it had happened, sneaking up on him, on both of them, and overwhelming them in a moment when they probably expected it the least.

Memories from that night, and the stolen moments that followed in the months after, flashed through Levi’s mind. Moments that always included that very smile Hange was giving him now. He shook his head as the images slowly faded, giving way to the present-day her, who was scrutinising him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, nibbling on her pen. He noticed the plate on her desk was half empty, the glass completely drained, and warmth spread in his chest. Without a word, he got up, picked the bottle of water up from the floor, and refilled her glas

“The beach,” he replied honestly, her eye still watching him with that same quiet curiosity.

“What?” Hange frowned in confusion, cocking her head.

“Forget it.” Levi stood up and, in parting, placed a hand on her shoulder. Though before he could pull it away again, she placed her own over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Eat up, and go to bed soon. You need rest,” he mumbled gently, the touch prickling on his skin.

"I will,” Hange assured him, pulling her hand away and tilting her head to rest her cheek against his hand. He brushed the back of his fingers along the curve of her jaw, and she chuckled at the tingle it must have caused on her skin.

“Love you, too,” she called when he was at the door a few minutes later, her head already bent over her papers again. Levi didn’t turn around, barely pausing to acknowledge her words. It was the first time she’d said those words out loud, and his heartbeat picked up at the realisation.

And I don’t even know why, he thought as he closed the door behind himself. He was terrible at saying how he felt; he rarely talked about it, and on the few occasions when he did, it always came out clumsy and blunt. Yet somehow, she still chose him—and he truly wished he could tell her just how much that meant to him.

◇

Levi didn’t see her for two more weeks after that. She’d taken a trip to headquarters with Armin, while he and the rest of the Scouts remained at their current location. When he was informed that they had returned, he immediately began to search for her.

Her horse was already in the stables, which meant she had to be inside the building. In the hallway, he bumped into Armin, who was already looking for him and greeted him politely.

“She wouldn’t let me get close to her, saying she’d pass her stupid cold on to me,” the boy informed him with a worried look. “But I’m pretty sure she’s running a fever. She seemed really lethargic on our ride back and didn’t even bother to look at the deer family we passed. Though I did my best to make sure she was drinking enough water.”

Levi nodded. That sounded just like something she’d do. “Thank you, Armin. I’ll take care of things—don’t worry about it. Now go and rest.” The boy nodded, a relieved expression flickering over his face before he said goodbye and went to look for his friends.

“I really hope you’re not in your office right now,” Levi mumbled to himself as he made his way through the building. A quick peek into Hange's bedroom reinforced his assumption, and when he knocked on her office door and heard her voice from inside, his guess was confirmed.

“Levi, I’m so happy to see you!” she exclaimed, her body expectantly turned toward him. She really tried to sound cheerful, but the roughness in her voice and the unmistakable dark circles under her eyes, paired with her pale skin, gave away just how unwell she was feeling.

“Stop working,” was his reply, short and almost a little gruff, and Hange chuckled.

“Why, didn’t you miss me?” she teased, chuckling again when he rolled his eyes. Though it quickly turned into a short coughing fit that occupied her for the next few minutes.

“Yeah,” he said awkwardly, the truth slipping from his tongue. The way Hange’s expression momentarily lit up made something in his chest tighten. It shouldn’t be such a rare thing for her to hear those words, yet sentiments like that hardly ever left his lips. “Now please take a break,” he added, much softer this time.

Hange sighed, slumping back into the chair. “Maybe I should,” she mumbled, rubbing her brow. “I’ve already done too much thinking in the past two weeks. I’m fine, don’t give me that look. I’m just… a little tired.

Levi stepped closer and placed his hand on her forehead. It was unnaturally warm, and she immediately leaned into his touch, which was cool against her skin. She was clearly still running a fever, and he immediately frowned.

“Mhm, that’s nice,” she sighed as his thumb rubbed small circles against her temple. He kept his hand there a little longer, continuing his ministrations.

“Is your nose still blocked? Does your throat hurt?”

“Yes. And… yes,” Hange replied, grabbing his hand as he started to pull it away and bringing it to her cheek. “Armin made me drink lots of herbal tea and even rustled up some honey for it. It didn’t taste too bad. Much better than your garlic mashed potatoes.” She was clearly talking just for the sake of it, eyes drooping and words slightly slurred.

“He’s a good kid.” Levi gently tugged at her hand, and when she didn’t move, he did it again, earning a weak groan in response. “Very sensible. Can’t exactly say the same about you.”

“I’m just doing my job!” she protested, finally rising to her feet, though very sluggishly. He was already withdrawing his hand when she quickly tightened her grip, interlacing their fingers.

Usually, he would’ve tried to pull his hand away. But he decided that, just this once, he’d let it slide. She was sick, after all, and he wasn’t that mean. He just prayed they wouldn’t run into anyone in the hallway as they walked down the corridor, their joined hands swinging gently between them.

“Have you already had lunch?” Levi asked as they reached the stairwell. When Hange shook her head, he wordlessly guided her down the corridor to the mess hall.

He made her sit down at the table, where she immediately rested her head on her arms and closed her eyes, while he moved around behind her. He rustled up a large bowl, brought water to a boil, and added several spoonfuls of dried chamomile flowers, thyme, and a handful of mint leaves. Then he gave everything a good stir before pulling a big towel from one of the cupboards.

“You have to breathe in the vapour,” Levi said, gently smoothing a hand over her shoulder to signal that he was done. Hange lifted her head, blinking a few times before grimacing at the sight of what he had just prepared for her.

“My mum always made me do this when I was little,” she sighed, pulling back slightly as Levi pushed the bowl closer. “I hated it so much.”

"I think you hate your runny nose more than you’ll hate this,” he replied, moving to stand behind her with the towel ready in his hand

“I prefer the sniffles,” she said, punctuating her words by dragging her sleeve under her nose.

“Disgusting,” Levi said, rolling his eyes, but his words left Hange completely unfazed. She leaned back, the back of her head coming to rest against his chest. When she searched for and found his hand, she pressed it back against her cheek, sighing as she slumped even further into him. Levi shook his head; she seemed to get even more clingy when she was sick.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he warned, nudging her with his other hand. When she didn’t move an inch, he repeated the motion, a little firmer this time.

“Gosh, you’re being so fussy,” Hange groaned, finally leaning forward over the steaming bowl. “Alright, I’ll do it. Happy?”

“Very.” With nimble fingers, he undid the strings holding her eyepatch in place and carefully removed it from her face. Then, he draped the towel over both her head and the dish, giving her a comforting pat on the back.

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?” Hange mumbled from beneath the cloth when she heard his steps retreating.

“I’ll make us some soup for lunch,” he said reassuringly. “I just need to grab a few vegetables from the pantry—I’ll be right back.”

All the while he chopped the ingredients, Levi did his best to keep Hange entertained. He walked her through each step of how he was preparing the soup—mostly because he couldn’t think of anything else to talk about. Whenever she tried to lift the towel to let in some fresh air, he snapped at her, insisting she was letting the steam out, upon which she called him a fussy grandma. But aside from those small bouts of bickering, she stayed quiet, a clear sign she wasn’t exactly thrilled with her current condition.

After twelve minutes, she’d had enough and folded back the cloth, taking in a deep breath of air as if she’d been suffocating the entire time. For a moment, Levi considered forcing her back under the towel. But she looked so pleased and relieved, and with the air clearly passing better through her nose as she continued to take several deep breaths, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he handed her a few handkerchiefs he’d brought along and ordered her to blow her nose.

Levi discarded the water, then turned his attention back to the bubbling soup. Hange seemed content to just sit and observe… him, to his mild irritation. Her head rested on her hands, an alarmingly dreamy expression on her face. He was relieved to see she hadn’t put her eyepatch back on, seemingly comfortable enough around him to go without it. He knew she still hadn’t fully gotten used to it, despite the time that had passed since her injury, but her trust did something to him—something he couldn’t quite put into words.

“What are you staring at?” he said dryly, feeling her gaze still boring into his back even after several minutes.

"You,” she replied honestly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re lovely to look at.”

"Tsk, you’re delusional,” Levi replied, turning away to grab two spoons and bowls from the cupboard, also to hide the blush creeping up his face. He filled the steaming soup into the dishes, then carried them over to the table.

During lunch, Hange didn’t talk much. She insisted it was the best soup she’d ever had and even managed to finish her entire bowl despite the burning in her throat. But she mostly just listened, leaving it up to him to do the talking—which was, of course, not only unusual for her but also mentally exhausting for him, and he spent an uncomfortable thirty minutes scratching his brain for any stories or bits of information she might find interesting.

Once they had finished, Levi did the dishes while Hange went back to being lethargic, her head resting on the table with her arms folded underneath. Aside from the occasional sniffle or cough, she stayed quiet and still, and when he asked how she was feeling, and she complained of a headache, he did his best to finish up as quickly as possible.

He made her change into her pyjamas as soon as they reached her bedroom, while he left to fetch a few wet towels to help with the fever. Hange had quite literally just flopped onto her bed and hadn’t moved an inch since—face pressed into the pillow, not even bothering to pull the blanket up. With a gentle nudge against her legs, he motioned for her to tuck them in properly, then spread the blanket over her himself.

"Here, this might help,” Levi said gently as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing the cloth on her forehead. Hange hummed in contentment, her eyes fluttering open for a moment before closing again.

"Hm, yes, this feels good,” she mumbled, lifting her hand to press the cloth more firmly against her skin. Her cheeks were flushed, lips dry from dehydration, and he made her drink a few sips of the tea he had prepared until she had enough and announced she was too tired to do anything except breathe.

"Told you that you needed rest, idiot,” he remarked softly, reaching for the second wet towel to replace the first one. His fingers gently brushed against her forehead, tucking back the strands of her fringe, and a small smile appeared on her lips. If he didn’t know she was feeling like shit, he might’ve actually found her expression adorable. But he quickly pushed the thought aside—this wasn’t something he should be thinking about now.

"Alright, now sleep and— hey, don’t be disgusting!” Hange had been about to bring her sleeve to her nose again, and he quickly grabbed her by the wrist. “Use a tissue like every normal, hygienic human being.”

"Thank you, Levi,” she sighed, happily accepting the cloth he handed her. The smile on her lips was disgustingly dreamy again, and it made him want to be even closer to her—a thought that unsettled him a little. Yet it didn’t feel as terrifying as it had in the first few weeks, and he wondered if, one day, thoughts like that might come more naturally to him. Then, the moment was promptly ruined when she noisily blew her nose.

"Now sleep. I’ll come by in a few hours to see if you need anything.” He was about to stand when a hand on his wrist held him back.

"Don’t leave me alone, please.” Hange’s eye had flown open again, her gaze intense as her grip on his arm tightened. “I like having you around. It… calms me down.”

Levi hesitated for a moment, especially when she slid back a little to make room for him on the bed. Hadn’t he just wished to be closer to her? Now that his wish was being granted, he was already thinking of backing out. But then he nodded, took off his jacket and boots, and slid into bed with his back against the wall.

Yes, her constant sniffling was a big damper, and there was likely a huge cloud of germs currently enveloping her. The danger of getting sneezed on was high, and he might end up catching her flu after this—if she hadn’t already infected him. But when had he ever been able to say no to her, especially when she spoke to him with that sweetness in her voice, begging him to read to her, her eye sparkling like it was holding an actual star or something?

Gosh, she had truly ruined him.

"People sleep with their eyes closed, you know,” Levi grumbled as he reached for the book on her nightstand. She gave a quiet, pleased sound, squeezing her head into his lap, and he gave her shoulder a gentle pat with the book when she wiped her nose on her sleeve again.

He had already started reading aloud when Hange interrupted him, softly calling his name. “Hm?” he paused, glancing over the edge of the book and down at her.

"I love you, too,” she mumbled, grinning when she noticed the way his ears were turning red. She reached out a hand, brushing over his cheek, his skin flushing under her touch.

"Yeah,” he replied softly, just as ungracefully as he had a few weeks before, his mind completely blank. He allowed his eyes to flicker over her face—her bold eyebrows, the scar crossing her left eye, the glow in her right one, her strong nose, her gentle smile—taking it all in. He’d never been good at putting his feelings into words, and only slightly better at expressing them through clumsy gestures of affection. So he let instinct take over, took the hand still resting on his cheek, and brought it to his lips, brushing them gently over the back of her fingers.

Hange’s eye widened, clearly unaccustomed to such a soft display of emotion. But she recovered quickly, brushing her thumb along his chin and giggling when his breath hitched, the air tickling her skin.

But then, Levi froze. “That was probably the dumbest thing I could’ve done,” he muttered, quickly pulling her hand away from his lips.

Hange burst out laughing, immediately catching on to his train of thought. “No, I think kissing me on the lips might be the stupidest thing you could’ve done. This is just number two.” She scrunched up her nose when he flicked her forehead with his finger. “But it’s okay. I’ll take care of you if you get sick—just like you’re doing for me.”

"If you were more hygienic, this wouldn’t even be a problem,” Levi remarked, briefly considering getting up to make her sanitise her hands. He did regret that his lips had just touched her germy hand, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now, so he simply brushed it off. "Now shut up and try to sleep,” he instructed, pushing her head back down.

And she did.

As soon as Hange had nuzzled comfortably against him again, she closed her eyes and kept them shut; the only sounds coming from her were occasional coughs and sniffles. He continued reading aloud, doing his best to keep his voice as gentle as possible. When no sound came from her for quite some time, he peeked over the edge of the book—and almost smiled. She was fast asleep.

"There you go,” Levi whispered, gently pulling the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders. “You should take better care of yourself, you know?”

He didn’t know what to feel when he saw her peaceful expression, the way she was soundly and… safely asleep in his lap. All he knew was that whatever he was feeling in that moment didn’t feel bad at all. There was a warmth in his stomach, something light and unfamiliar, and for a moment, he let the feeling sink in—until it spread gently through his chest.

When Hange sniffled in her sleep, Levi shook his head in disbelief. She truly never did shut up. But this time, he didn’t bother fighting the smile tugging at his lips, or the little huff that might’ve passed as a chuckle.

He allowed himself to look at her softened features a moment longer, until he decided things were getting dangerously sappy and he needed to stop. So he opened the book again—this time at the beginning—and started reading quietly. He had no idea what the story was even about. But since he clearly wasn’t going anywhere, now seemed like a good time to find out.

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planetkiimchi · 1 year ago

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spread some love !

talk about your favourite mutuals and why you like them

hi anon !! first off, thanks for this ask, i'm always up for appreciation posts! secondly, sorry for getting back to you so late 🥲 thirdly, i did mention some moots that i haven't spoken to in a while, i'd love to catch up with y'all sometime 💗 and anyone i didn't mention: feel free to drop into my inbox!

@a-gay-mushroom | let's start with aster! you probably never see me talk about him here LOL bc i'm pretty sure they don't have access to their account anymore but we still talk on discord and he sends us lil updates on his life 🥺🥺 like how cute is that

@realparkminkyun | seok is a REAL ONE cuz why is he the only one that appreciates my wayv posts :/ also among one of the first mutuals i made here when we were both kinda figuring tumblr out lol

@blue-jisungs | ofc axe is on this list LOL my first writer mutual !! she's super cheerful and nice and sends the server lots of great edits and likes my translations of wayv vids hehe

@alterenjun | don't talk to nae very much but she makes really pretty moodboards! also she's super sweet

@fylithia | moon always has smth to say and also they tagged me in a bunch of stuff and has cats.

@wheeboo | rania is so cool !!! she gives rlly good advice and is super mature and i love seeing her life updates

@jisungsdaydreamer | dreamy has rlly good writing and also never faults me for forgetting to talk to them sometimes 😰

@eternalgyu | hannie brings much-needed chaotic energy into my life lol the only thing is we don't stan the same groups 💔 except svt

@wqnwoos | hana has the prettiest writing ever ?? and she's so sweet i love interacting w her!

@kyrjnie | val has sent me multiple check ins even when i fail to interact w her regularly 🫶🏼🫶🏼

@welcometomyoasis | we live in the same country !! also kind of like an older sister bc she has more life experience HEHE

@slytherinshua | makes presentations to help us stan new groups and has writing for almost every kpop group she stans (which is. a lot) and also leaves amazing comments and replies to my rbs of her work ?4&!//

okay i think thats it!! love y'all <3

#i will get to work on a moots tag btw #i think it's much needed #also if u see this post do feel free to tell me how you're doing in the comments <3 #🫧 — asks #anonnie <3 #🫶🏼 — tags

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stellari-s · 2 years ago

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Hi! Hope you’re doing well :)

Ithaqua x fem! S/o

I feel like it probably takes him a lot to be willing to take his mask off, so it takes him a while but he eventually takes it off when he’s with his s/o alone. Definitely fluffy 🤭💕

🩵

hi, anon! good lord, i'm really sorry for taking so long on this. i know it's very belated, but they say better late than never 🥹 also, i normally do gn readers... if you wanna interpret them as fem then go ahead though!

request; yes yes, by anon! requests are closed for now (inbox is open to chat with me). i got to catch up on my backlog...

wc; 821.

tags; gn! reader, default! ithaqua, ithaqua x reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship.

summary; seldom do you see ithaqua with his mask off: you know he's not shy, but something deeper - you only wish for him to feel comfortable around you.

out in the garden, the flowers that swayed to the breeze’s whims provided color within the dark night solely illuminated by the crescent moon above and the stars that flickered in its faint glory. there were two people sitting next to each other on the swing, close enough so their hands touched on the seat, as they both kicked their feet in the air gently to move the swing in a lackadaisical, rhythmic motion.

“did you know?” you said, breaking the silence, “in some cultures, when a couple gets married, the bride hides her face until she is alone with the groom.”

“really?” the other replied.

while his tone could be perceived as curt to others, you knew this was the way he sometimes sounded when he was getting a bit tired or didn’t want to actively engage in the conversation, instead opting to listen passively.

“mhm,” you replied, “i mean, i dunno, doesn’t that sound romantic, itha?”

itha stifled a laugh. “yeah, sure, except you sound like you’re trying to target me with that?”

you shook your head.

“no,” you replied, “i just...”

before you could continue, itha leaned in closer to you: “do you... want to see my face?”

he sounded like a lost child trying to find his way back home. though you couldn’t see his expression, the small waver in his voice shot through your heart with a pang that refused to ebb.

how could you respond?

“...only if you feel comfortable.”

despite itha being your partner for a good amount of time - perhaps a few months, though time grew to be a more foreign concept the more of it you spent here in the manor - you really never could recall a time with him where he took off his mask. even the times he would kiss you, he only took off the lower half of his mask, where you could catch a glimpse of his somewhat pale skin.

you also didn’t know much about him before he came to the manor: his past seemed to be a sensitive subject for him, so he never talked about it, nor have you brought it up.

you’ve just come to know he wasn’t shy about his own face - he simply disliked it.

“only if...” you paused for a moment before continuing: “only if you take my words for the truth. only if you trust me.”

itha laughed. “okay, okay, i get it.”

his tone was slightly teasing; you couldn’t stop your cheeks from warming up. it seemed ever since you two made it official, you seemed to notice a lot more little things about him.

“sorry, i really didn’t mean to force you.”

“when did i say that?” he tilted his head. “if i was uncomfortable, i would have said it a long time ago.”

that’s true...

“it's not that i really mind,” itha started, “but... i guess i feel like there’s really nothing special about my face? i’m not really sure why anyone would like it.”

you shook your head. “it’s not about how special your face is. but i want to share our moments together with you to the fullest... i want to share our happiness together.”

itha seemed to think about it for a moment before he slowly lifted his hand. his fingers weren’t trembling, but his motions were slow and deliberate nonetheless. he held his mask and removed it, revealing slightly pale skin that reminded you of the moon, light blue eyes like waters in a painting, and the soft lips you always enjoyed giving kisses to.

his expression seemed nervous, seemingly wanting to avert his eyes, and his cheeks appeared a bit rosy too.

“are you uncomfortable?” you asked, placing your hand on the other’s shoulder.

“no, just not used to it.” itha played with a lock of his hair, twirling it between his index finger: a small habit of his, you noticed, when nervous. “but if it’s with you, i figured it would be fine...”

you chuckled before adjusting your position so one hand was over itha's and the other cupped his cheek.

“i love you for everything, itha,” you said, “if you don’t like your own face, i will love it enough for the both of us... until you grow to love yourself more, you can lean on me. take my words for the truth: i think you are very beautiful - your face, your heart, your soul. everything.”

sharing your oath of love once more, you sealed it with a kiss.

when you two parted, itha gave you a boyish smile before putting on his mask again.

“in light of what you said before, since we're together,” he said, his index finger over where his lips were beneath his mask, “what my face looks like will be a secret between the two of us.”

you nodded in response.

“yes, one just for the two of us.”

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a-dark-sanctuary · 1 year ago

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Hello hi last inbox fic for now!

What a pain! No one in the royal family was allowed anywhere after Takumi and Ryoma had disappeared. Yukimura and Reina technically had no power over the princes and princesses, but they were scary enough that no one dared disobey when they were told to never leave the castle alone.

And so, Hinoka impatiently waited for her second retainer to show up. She only wanted to go on a walk but both retainers had to be present or Yukimura would chastise her. And Azama was late. How wonderful.

She started speaking, "Screw those stupid rules, I don't need both of you to-"

"Sorry I'm late!" Azama called out.

He ran the last few meters to them, desperately trying to catch his breath while they realized why he was late.

"You brought Mitama," Setsuna smiled.

She carefully took the baby from the sling on Azama's back and cradled her, becoming a completely different person in the process.

"What a perfect little thing! Mwah mwah mwah!" she smiled, kissing Mitama's forehead over and over while the baby laughed.

"I'm sorry, it was so short notice that the babysitter couldn't take care of her. The chances of us getting attacked on such a short walk are very low anyway," Azama said with a chuckle, though it was clear to both Hinoka and Setsuna that he was exhausted.

"We don't have to go on a walk, it's nice seeing Mimi," Hinoka said.

"Are you sure? You haven't been out much this week."

"Really, it's fine. I don't want to risk anything bad happening to my niece!"

They took to the castle gardens, sitting in the grass as Mitama looked at the amazing plants around her. She reached for a tulip but couldn't quite pick it.

"Here you go!" Hinoka said and handed it to her.

"Oh wow!" Mitama beamed.

She held the tulip in both hands, running after Hinoka who only needed walk to stay ahead of her.

"I'm glad Lady Hinoka likes Mimi," Azama said.

"Everyone does, she's an adorable baby," Setsuna replied.

"Yes, I'm aware, but not everyone would be as flexible with plans as Hinoka. I'm not sure I could've raised her this long if you two didn't help."

"That's what friends are for."

"I suppose so."

They fell silent and watched as Mitama played and laughed with Hinoka. She fell and began crying. Instinctively, Azama stood to pick her up, but Hinoka got to her first. She held her carefully, rocking her back and forth.

"Oh you poor thing, it'll be okay!" she smiled.

Hinoka carefully sat and held Mitama until she stopped crying. She dozed off and Hinoka still looked down at her adorable face.

"I think taking care of a baby is just as tiring as a walk. I definitely don't feel restless anymore," Hinoka laughed.

Azama carefully took Mitama, "Thank you, though. I know how excited you were to leave castle town for once, I just couldn't figure out what to do with Mimi."

"It's fine, she's cute. I'd babysit her any day!"

He leaned back on a tree, only half listening as Hinoka and Setsuna fell into some conversation about how much they hate Nohrian armor designs. That didn't really matter, not when he held Mitama. The rest of the world could burn or dissappear and he would not care as long as he had her.

EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR THE SINGLE GIRLDAD EVER CONCIEVED!!!!!!!!

hinoka and setsu and azama,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, the sillies…

#YAAAAAAAAAAAAY #asks #pie-knight #inbox fic #ocean’s grey rat

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

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HIIIII it’s been a while i’m so sorry i’ve just had a terrible time since i sent my last ask :// summer is soooo kicking my ass but i am trying to persevere !!🫡 LMAO

MAKING HIM TAKE BUZZFEED QUIZZES IS SO SMART OMG I NEED TO TRY THAT !!! he said Steal My Girl 😂😂 lil basic but i can’t blame him it is a bop, we both go crazy when that one comes on

I SAW THE NEWEST UPDATE ON THE my-boyfriend-is-trying-to-be-a-writer-thread and SAMANTHA I CANT WITH YOU LMAOOOOOO this thread is so funny i just love that IT KEEPS GOING dw queen i devoured that 10k traditional chapter as if it were 1k🫡🫡🫡

also queen just wanted to let you know your stories follow me everywhere🥹 saw a framed poster on etsy titled ‘Wildflower Garden’ and it was SOOOOOOOOOO protection coded💔💔 it was a bunch of pretty flowers and it had Sweet Creature lyrics “wherever i go, you bring me home”😭😭 i love them sm he would totally buy it as a present for her on a random tuesday and they would forever hang it up in their home😭 and i saw a video on insta and i was CACKLING😭😭 some girl was talking abt how her dentist had his fingers in her mouth and she said something inappropriate and i was like ‘this is basically the plot of chapter 2 of Toothpaste’ HAHAHAHAH

i saw you posted Most and it looks SOOOO interesting but i really can’t lie im scared to read it cause everyone and their MOTHER are in your inbox hating on some bitch named lauren ??? i don’t know her AND I DONT NEED TO TO KNOW THAT IM NOT GONNA LIKE HER EITHER😭😭 THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN !!! once u post part 2 i’ll def read it🙂‍↕️🤞

I STARTED LOVE AND OTHER WORDS LAST NIGHT ??? I ALREADY LOVE IT i’m barely a hundred pages in and i’m soooo invested in their story. what gets me is homegirl KNOWS he’s the love of her life and HE KNOWS IT TOO ?? and i’m just sitting here like “make out already ???🤨” HAHAHAHA but i know it’s not that easy😔 but i will defff let you know what i think as i read some more

idk if im stupid or what but i had NO clue Christina Lauren was TWO PEOPLE AHAHAHAHAH i opened the back cover of the book and i was like😦😦 ive seen SOOO many people talk about and recommending their books yet i never knew that ?😭 i think co-writing books with your bestie is SOOO amazing omg

HOW ARE YOUUUU ?? I MISS YOU SO MUCH 💕💕 catch me up on everything, big or small it doesn’t matter 🫶🫶🫶

~🎶

Oh no! I'm so sorry to hear you weren't doing well! I hope everything is okay, feel free to vent if you need to 💕 I'm so happy to hear from you, but don't feel bad about late replies, I'm happy to hear from you at all 💕

Steal My Girl reminds me of fall (the whole album does) but that was my favorite of their first song album drops. It really fit the vibe. The music video always makes me laugh. I never knew I needed to see Louis with a chimp until then 😭 A LITTLE BASIC. I'm SCREAMING. Good for him though, I don't think that's an obvious choice for casual listeners. I love it!

HAHAHAHAHA I feel like I'm truly living a double agent life. I feel a little bad but I will never tell him. He'll live without knowing. You're so kind 😭 10k of Harry being sick is usually where I start rereading Traditional. I don't think I've reread parts 1-5 since like maybe a week after I wrote them 😂

Omg that's so cute 😭 I think about that a lot, if my writing pops up in people's lives. Someone a while back sent a message that their parents got a new washer and dryer and her mom tested it with like one sock and it made her think about Love and Dryer Sheets and I just thought that was so cool 😭 I LOVE the idea of her buying the poster for her on a random Tuesday. I feel like Toothpaste is going to be simultaneously the most relatable one and least relatable one as idk if I know any hot dentists 😭 but that's really funny nonetheless!

I think I remember you telling me that you don't like to read unfinished stories? I think you did it with Dolcezza maybe; no worries either way. But knowing that, you may want to sit this one out until I get like part 2 AND 3 posted? I feel like I'm going to get "SAMANTHA -🎶" in my inbox and nothing else if you read it before it's done 😂 But yes, we HATE Lauren here. But of course I want you to read it when you have time/want to 💕 I would love to hear your thoughts!

I'm so happy you're loving it! MAKE OUT ALREADY LITERALLY. I just loved their story so so much he's so in love with her I cannot. It gets a little deeper but it hooked me so fast I couldn't put it down. I think I read it in one day.

YES. I forget how I figured it out, if I also read the back cover or if I was googling them or something idk. But it's SO cool they write together! I wish I had a writing bestie to do that with, but anyway!

I'm doing well! I think when we last chatted I was STRESSED™ over everything and now I'm MUCH less stressed thankfully. I'm really not doing a whole lot these days. Just trying to enjoy the summer even though the weather is crappy af lately. Too hot to breathe one day and then raining off and on for hours. Can't do anything outside. I made a yummy pasta dish for dinner last night and other than that, my life is pretty boring.

I hope you're doing better, I've missed you so much as well! I hope that things calm and settle for you so you can relax and enjoy 💕

xoxo

#🎶

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months ago

Text

@zepskies

After reading your comments now I'm even more excited to read the epilogue!

She's a real sweetheart, right? Writing someone who wants to work with little kids, I wanted to write a young woman who isn't without her flaws, but really embodied that kind, nurturing nature that makes for great elementary school teachers. 💗 (And the kind of inner goodness that I think Dean would find endearing too.)

I love hunter!readers, but the soft!readers really have my heart. Not that a hunter!reader couldn't be soft per say, but I just love how cutesy she is.

Buuuuut maybe he should've asked Dean if it was really ok if he pursued the reader before he stepped in. Maybe as his friend, he should've asked Dean what the hell he was doing with Lisa when the reader really needed him right now lol. Maybe that would've been the wake-up call Dean needed to get his shit together and realize he didn't really truly love Lisa. 🤔

You're so right. Benny should have asked more questions!! Benny should have had the talk with Dean and if he is Dean's best friend he should have known. It kinda makes it sadder though. But I'll bet the epilogue kinda explains that a bit too 🥰 But at the same time yes, Benny was a good guy for stepping up and stepping in.

Ahaha yes!! I knew you would catch that! Oh yeah, but that's the kind of mistake a man not used to little kids would make, I feel like 🤣

It really is. I bet that Ben/Soldier Boy would let his kid watch something too soon and then live with the consequences when he can't have sex with the reader for a month because the kid sleeps in the bed with them 🤣

I knowwww I'm sorry I almost killed Dean, but this is the first of many wake-up calls for both Dean and reader. 😭😭

Don't be sorry, near-death experiences that make people realize they love one another is the kind of angst I live for LOL

I tried to do something different with this story and make it feel more realistic, with no real "villain," except that we can hurt the people we love the most unintentionally with our actions and inaction. What we say, and sometimes more importantly, what we don't say.

It really was wonderfully realistic- all the emotions all the drama, it was beautiful! I also think that it resonates more that way- making it about the internal and external struggle with relationships rather than some big-bad to fight. Because sometimes the big-bad is the little voice inside that makes you push everything down or sometimes the big-bad is you? If that makes sense lol.

Oh you saw that, huh? 😂 Yeah, I think you remember that turned into a fun "anonymous" ask in my inbox asking why I was so "defensive" when people criticized my work. I typically have thick skin and was ready to forget the comments entirely, but when that "ask" came in it really annoyed me, not gonna lie. lol I probably should've just ignored the inbox message and deleted it, rather than spend more time and energy on replying to someone whose mind likely isn't going to be changed on how they talk to writers, regardless. 😂 I get that this AU story was "different," and messy with these relationships, but that was kind of the point. Bless you though for your thoughtful and heartwarming feedback regarding the Lisa and Benny storylines! 💗💗💗

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that happened when I was in my two weeks off period 😅 But I don't think it's so much as you not having 'thick skin' or being 'defensive'- I see it more as you being open to the criticism, but them not giving you anything constructive. If someone says 'oh that's stupid' but then don't tell you why, it becomes more about the writer than what they wrote.

But oh yeah no. The fact that they felt the need to also send in an ask criticizing you even more is just uncalled for. I don't blame you for answering it, it would have annoyed me too- especially because lately I feel like the meaner anons think they're helping writers by being super rude?

Yes exactly! The AU is "different!" It's more about the relationships and drama and miscommunication! (slightly mad at you for that last one jkjk 🤣) AU's are supposed to be different, that's literally it- alternate universe. Which is why they didn't like it, because they didn't understand it. 😬

But you're welcome! I really did enjoy it and I'll bet the epilogue is going to be amazing! 💗

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Deep breaths Are you ready for a rollercoaster of emotions? 😘❤️

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 13.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, pregnancy feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, time jumps and flashbacks, sexual tension, mutual pining, spice~, and an ending…

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

At the doctor’s office, Dean goes in with you for the first trimester ultrasound. There you learn that you’re going to have a boy. Tears well up in your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

Dean wears a look of amazement as he sits on the edge of your bed. He takes up your hand and squeezes gently. He tries to be a strong support, even though he also tries to hide the fear that begins to churn in his gut.

For one of the first times in his life since Sam was born, he feels the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. In a good way. In a fucking scary way.

He looks at you and sees the wonder written across your face while you watch the tiny shape of your baby on the screen. His heartbeat thwaps fast and loud in the speakers.

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you're making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

With his weekly hookup rate, in the very back shelves of his mind he knew something like this could happen, even though he thought he'd been careful. (Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.) But here, in this white wall-to-wall room that smells like hospital antiseptic, that thwap thwap thwap of a heartbeat reverberating in his ears, the reality of this is crashing hard on his shoulders and rattling down to the base of his spine.

Despite his earlier happiness, those thoughts stay with him when you two eventually get back into his car. You have the pictures of the sonogram in your hands. You smile down at them before you put them back in your purse for safekeeping.

However, you notice Dean’s sudden melancholy as he stares out at the road. He’s started the car, but he hasn’t moved to pull out of the parking lot yet.

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you, incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat.

When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seeming sheepish, and guilty. “I meant to say thank you. Just didn’t know any other way to say it.”

After a moment, you smile at him. It’s warm and almost shy.

Dean clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his face is heating up. He doesn’t say anything more. He just takes the wheel and shifts gears, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

You don’t know what possesses you to bake cookies. Dozens and dozens of them, all the chocolate chip cookie recipes you can find. You’re in search of the perfect one. This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

And then, he’ll be ruined for any other chocolate chip cookies that try to grab his taste buds. He’ll say, Blech. Chips Ahoy? These aren’t as good as Mom makes!

…Or something like that.

Yes, these cookies have to be perfect. You’ll even write the ingredients down on a notecard and hide it away, and it’ll become your family secret recipe.

Once you feel like your cookie game is strong enough, you decide to test these babies out. You bring two dozen painstakingly baked confections to Firehouse 83, where Dean works. The man is a bottomless pit, to be sure, but you also want other people’s unbiased opinions. For science.

You park your car on the side of the road, making sure you’re not blocking the driveway where two huge fire trucks are parked. You head inside the firehouse with your big container under your arm and your purse on the other. Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

You’re still determined to be active though! You plan to keep working until you have the baby. Your parents live a few hours away, but you’re grateful that they want to help out as much as possible.

Even though they weren’t happy to hear about how you got pregnant, by now they've met Dean and begrudgingly admitted to liking him. He's really stepped up to the responsibility of a future father, insisting on baby-proofing your apartment, helping you shop for the essentials, and going with you to as many doctor’s appointments as he can. He’s even agreed to giving you child support payments, even though you hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

You look for him now as you enter the firehouse, trying to push the heavy glass door open with one hand.

“Here, I got you,” says a familiar baritone voice.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the man who helps you inside.

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

“Dean filled you in?” you ask. You hope so. Having to explain the story to one of his own friends would be embarrassing, especially since this is the man you walked in Sam’s wedding with. It reminds you of that day, and the way you told Dean that news in a glorified closet, with shaking hands and the wrong kind of butterflies.

Thankfully, Benny nods. “That he did…but come on, I’ll show you around. And I see you’ve brought somethin’ special for us?”

He gestures at the container you're holding and offers to take it off your hands. You give it to him, grateful for the help.

“Yeah, and I want you guys to give me your honest opinion.”

Benny tosses you a wink and a smile. “That I can do.”

Your cheeks begin to warm in a blush, but the way he helps you to a comfy couch in the common room earns your smile. There are still good men left in this world, and you’re glad to know that Dean works so well with one.

“You want some coffee, or water? Think we might have some lemonade,” Benny says.

“Water would be great, thank you,” you reply, as you rub your belly. The little man has decided to kick at your liver today. “I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

It's your biggest challenge, to be honest. Try wrangling a group of fifteen to twenty six-year-olds while running on green tea, the fumes of sleep deprivation, reduced bladder control, and as much vim as you can muster.

“Ah, right,” Benny nods. “My sister has two kids. She cut out coffee, pain meds, some dairy stuff. But she claimed cheesecake was all right, ‘cause it’s got cake in the name.”

You giggle. “I see no flaw in her logic.”

Down the hall of the firehouse, Dean is just coming back in from going through a set of drills. He’s still the Candidate—the freshest blood in the house—so they’ve been putting him through his paces for the past several months. He’s eager to learn and to prove himself.

His ears perk up in confusion though. Did he just hear your voice?

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

When he rounds the corner, he sees you in the common room, smiling and giggling like a teenager at something Benny said to you while he eats a soft baked cookie right out of a Tupperware container. You must’ve brought it for the firehouse.

This cozy little scene kind of annoys Dean somehow, though he doesn’t know why. He does know that it shouldn’t.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, forcing himself to smile. It becomes easier when you look his way, your eyes brightening at his arrival.

“There you are! Come ‘ere and try these,” you say, pointing at the box Benny holds. “Tell me if our son’s going to have the best PTA mom ever.”

Dean can’t help but grin after trying a big bite of one of your cookies.

“Oh, mah Gah,” he says, holding a hand under his mouth so nothing comes crumbling out.

“Good?” you ask.

“Good friggin’ cookie,” he confirms, after he swallows. “You’re gonna have the other parents frothing at the mouth. Who’s gonna be able to compete with this?”

Benny nods in agreement. When Dean squeezes your shoulder, your sweet, happy smile makes him smile too.

She’s going to be a good mom, he thinks. He can only hope against hope that he can be the man his son needs.

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

However, the embarrassment of him pointing out the fluid beginning to stain your slacks is swiftly cut off by your shock. Your first call is to the principal, to have her send someone to cover your class. Your next call is to Dean, telling him to meet you at the hospital.

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

You know you have no real reason to be upset. She’s been trying her best to be your friend in recent months. Hell, she helped Eileen and your mom plan your baby shower. She even brought you flowers when she got to the hospital, but you notice how less than five minutes after she got here, she and Dean became embroiled in yet another argument. It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

The sex must be explosive, like the fireworks at goddamn Disney World.

But Dean eventually does come back into the room alone. His support grounds you over the next few hours. He lets you basically break his hand, all while he gives you encouragement (and stands by your shoulder, so he doesn’t see anything you’d rather him not see).

And then, your son is born. Every muscle, every cell in your body is exhausted, but the pain meds have kicked in, and you’re in that blissed out state between abject reality and being entirely entranced by the bundle in your arms. His perfect face is just there, sleeping for the moment after the nurses taught you how to breastfeed.

Dean returns to sit in the chair beside you. He gives you some water and a piece of a protein bar. You’re not that hungry, but he pointed out that you haven’t eaten since before your water broke.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way up,” he says.

You nod in reply. You’re too into your son right now to think of anything else.

Dean shakes his head in wonder as he reaches out with a tentative hand, brushing his fingers over the baby’s downy head. He was born with a little tuft of brown hair.

“Okay, down to business,” Dean says, shooting you a playful look. “I vote for Zeppelin.”

You groan. “Dean, no. Veto. I’m not naming my son after a rock band.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

“Veto,” he snorts. You two agreed to getting five “vetos” each, but this discussion has been more like a battle of wills over the last several months.

“Okay, what about Daniel? That’s strong, classic,” you pose.

Dean considers it with a tilt of his head. “All right, that one’s a maybe.”

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile.

“You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently.

“Thanks,” he says.

Your eyes meet, and it’s a moment charged with something you can’t even name. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this feeling with him. It both fills your heart with warmth, and makes you ache.

Then the door opens. It’s Lisa, Sam, and Eileen. Dean’s hand slips away from yours as they all pour in to congratulate you and Dean, and of course, meet the baby. There’s a lot of soft cooing and playful shushing.

In that small chaos, your parents call to tell you that they’re finally almost here. It really sucked not having your mom with you, but your parents live far enough away that they were going to take a train and stay with you for at least a week. Their train unfortunately got delayed due to mechanical failure.

It's okay though. Getting through the past several hours has made you realize that you’re stronger and more capable than you think, and even though part of you is still scared to death, you don’t need a husband to be a good mom. You’re going to give this your all, no matter who’s beside you…

And that's no more apparent than when Dean soon has to step out again, leading Lisa out of the room. He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

It gets loud enough outside your hospital room that Sam and Eileen feel they have to intervene. Lisa is Eileen’s best friend, and she’s the best equipped to try and deescalate the argument from that end, while Sam deals with Dean. It’s messy, it’s irritating, and it means that even today, you can’t just have a little bit of peace.

You sigh and cradle your still nameless baby close to your chest. He’s all that matters. Already, your heart is so damn full just taking him in.

“What’s your name, my little love?” you whisper. “What am I going to write on your certificate, besides Winchester?”

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

You perk up and smile in surprise. “Benny, hey.”

He greets you with a slightly hesitant kiss on the cheek. He’s brought the baby an adorable teddy bear, and you a beautiful bouquet of white and blue roses, along with a box of chocolates.

“It’s the assorted kind, but they’ve got plenty of the caramel ones you like,” he says, then gazes down at the baby. “Aw, he’s a little charmer. Already got more of you than Dean, that’s for sure.”

You laugh lightly at his teasing. “I don’t know about that.” You hope your son inherits Dean’s strong jaw, and his green eyes.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

You shake your head and smile through burgeoning tears. You set the chocolates on the end table where he’s placed the flowers and the teddy bear.

“No, it’s very sweet. Thank you,” you say. You glance out the window of your room to the hallway, where the arguing between Dean, Lisa, Sam, and Eileen seems to finally be calming down. You’re so damn tired, you don’t give a crap about whatever they’re hashing out now.

You look down at your son, and despite your strong thoughts earlier, insecurity begins to creep back into your mind like inky claws.

“How are you holding up?” Benny asks. His face is kind and concerned when he notes the change in you.

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

You look down at your son, and you have to wipe away a tear from your eye before it falls on his face.

A large, warm hand rests over yours. Your gaze raises slowly, and Benny smiles at you. He’s serious though.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he says. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

FIVE YEARS LATER...

For all that changes, there are some things that stay the same.

Dean and Lisa are still the world’s most “off again, on again” couple you’ve ever met. Sam and Eileen are still going strong as the hardworking, driven career couple. Your son is growing more and more every day and just started kindergarten this year.

(You ultimately caved on Dean’s idea to name him Robert, as in Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin.)

Oh, yeah, and the “you and Benny” thing? That’s been going well for two years now.

What can you say? The man is persistent, but respectfully so. He’s considerate, reliable, and always calls you when work at the firehouse has him running late.

You haven’t yet invited him to move in with you. That part you’re still hesitant on, mostly because of your son, but Benny helps you drop off Robbie at school and makes breakfast for you all whenever he stays over your apartment. Benny takes an interest in your son’s life and keeps up with all his energy, taking him to the park to run himself ragged before dinner, and helping you tuck him in at night.

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

But Benny shows his caring in all those little things he does for you. They add up into the big things, and he makes you feel supported. He makes you feel safe.

He even helps you plan your son’s fifth birthday. Robbie wanted to go all out on a dinosaur theme; he’s been hooked on Jurassic Park ever since Benny “accidentally” let him watch it with him on one of your rare nights out with your friends.

So you set up a little party at the park by your apartment. You managed to reserve the biggest gazebo, where there are three picnic tables covered with dinosaur plates, and tablecloths, streamers in different shades of green. You even bought a big dinosaur cake—also in a radioactive green color that you hadn’t been sure about, but your son talked you into. Robbie thinks it’s awesome.

He’s running around on the playground with a few of his friends from school. Their parents (along with Sam, Eileen, and Lisa) are talking amongst themselves at one of the picnic tables while you try to figure out how to get the Bluetooth speaker to connect with your phone.

“Haha! Got it. If you're so smart, Alexa, why don't you connect on the first try?” You fist-pump the air triumphantly, just as Benny comes to your side. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek, making you smile.

“How’s it going out there?” you ask, nodding at the kids. Plus Dean, who’s gamely been the one to keep them entertained with different games. Right now, it’s a thrilling game of Cowboys and Outlaws, where Robbie and his friends are the cowboys, and Dean is the outlaw. He’s been hiding under the slide, behind trees and other playground fixtures, while the kids have little squirt guns to pelt him with water every time they find him.

It's pretty damn cute, and you’ve been taking pictures. You smile at the sight of Dean leaping out at Robbie and the kids, catching them off guard.

“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff!” Dean declares.

“Oh, it’s goin’,” Benny remarks with an amused shake of his head. “Still hard to believe that guy’s about to make it to Lieutenant.”

“Hahaaa, gotcha!!” Dean cackles. He’s grabbed up Robbie and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Robbie screeches with laughter while his dad runs around the playground, being chased by a bunch of five-year-olds with squirt guns.

Your smile threatens to make your cheeks hurt. You know your life is…unconventional, to say the least, but Dean is a good father to your son. He’s also been working hard at his job. He just took the Lieutenant’s test, and even though Benny already occupies that position at Firehouse 83, a spot at another firehouse might open up for Dean to transfer.

“Part of me doesn’t want to,” Dean admitted to you last week, while he was working on fixing your stubborn, leaky sink. “All the guys there, they’re like family, you know?” “I understand,” you nodded. “You have to do what feels best for you, whether that’s staying where you feel comfortable, or moving up in your career somewhere else. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” He took in your advice with a slow nod. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I have to time to think about it. Lisa had other ideas.” “Of course,” you said with a smile, but it soon dropped. “Why, what did she say?” “Do what I can to move up,” he sighed. “She’s got a point. That title comes with a pay bump, one I could really use right now.” “I get that. Totally valid,” you said. “But I just think it’s important for you to be happy with it too. Especially with what you do, helping people, saving people…I’d imagine being in the right mindset for all that is important, right? Who you work with can be just as important as the money stuff.” Dean considered you with a smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

As you think about it now, you have to admit that he’s grown up a lot.

Dean has to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Am I already getting too old for this crap?

Feels kind of young to have a stitch in his side after a few rounds with these kids, but even he has his limits. Lisa comes to bring him a bottle of ice-cold water, which he appreciates. He’s tempted to dump it over his head like he does after successfully neutralizing a fire. It gets literally hot as hell under that helmet and mask and all his gear underneath.

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

“Toss in a new pair of knees, thanks,” he wheezes. He downs half the water bottle in one go, but he smiles at seeing his son keep running around with his friends. He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

Dean hopes his son likes the new model car set that’s waiting for him on the picnic table full of presents. In fact, he’s still surprised that you didn’t go with the race car theme he suggested for the party, but apparently, Robbie’s more into dinosaurs now. Dean wishes he knew that before he bought the model car set.

He looks over and catches sight of you and Benny wrapped up in each other. He has his arm around your waist while you fiddle with something, but the way you lean over and whisper near his ear elicits a smile on Benny’s face.

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

“Well, don’t they seem cozy,” he mutters.

Lisa arches a manicured brow. “Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting ready to propose.”

That earns Dean’s attention, his head swiveling back to her in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

“His sister,” she replies. “Meg’s in my intermediate class, remember?”

Dean nods, sipping at his water, even though he’s a bit absent in the eyes. Lisa watches him shrewdly.

“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asks. “Benny’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dean says. He doesn’t need that reminder, or the guilty twinge. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“And she seems happy,” Lisa points out. “Don’t you want the mother of your kid to be with a good man who treats her right?”

He nods, trying to hide his growing annoyance. “‘Course I do. I just…I don’t know. I still don’t see them together, I guess.”

“Well, they’ve been together for like, two years.”

Again, Dean nods his acknowledgement. It’s hard for him to believe that so much time has passed already. He honestly didn’t think you and Benny would be together this long. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Lisa sighs and grabs his arm, pulling him aside before he can rejoin the party.

“Listen, we need to talk about something,” she says.

Dean restrains a tired groan. “Can this wait ‘til later?”

“I think we should do this now,” she says. A hallmark Lisa-ism. She’s opinionated and strong-willed, something Dean’s always respected about her. Sometimes though, the timing is damn irritating. He doesn’t want to get into another argument with his girlfriend in public, especially not at his son’s birthday party.

“Speaking of commitment,” she says with a sigh. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been on a five-year rollercoaster, you and I. You know why that is?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Dean says, crossing his arms.

“It’s because you’re spread too thin,” she says. “Between the firehouse, construction jobs on the side…not to mention other things.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Lisa’s lips purse, before she pointedly gestures over at you with her eyes. “Well, for example. You’re still going to her place after your next shift to fix her fridge, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, should be pretty simple. I’ve just gotta swing by the hardware store and grab this specialty tool I ordered—”

“Dean,” Lisa deadpans. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She heaves a deep breath, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

“I get that navigating this situation hasn’t been easy for you,” she says. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, but look.”

Lisa takes his hands in hers, uncrossing his arms. “I want to get married someday. I want kids too. And I want that kind of life with you…I’m just not sure you want it with me.”

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

“Don’t answer me right now,” she says, but she levels him with a serious look. “You need to decide though, Dean. Five years is long enough. You should know by now if you want to be with me.”

After letting go of his hands, she softens the edges of her words with a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she turns to join the group now gathered around the picnic table where the food is, all the kids cheering for pizza and cake.

After the party, Sam, Eileen, Lisa, and Benny pack up their cars and yours with the leftover food, party supplies, and presents. Dean helps you clean up the trash, all while keeping an eye on Robbie getting out the last of his sugar-high on the playground swing.

You shake your head tiredly, if with a fond smile. “That kid’s gonna be up all night hype on that radioactive cake.”

Dean chuckles. “You want me to take him tonight?”

“It’s okay. I think he’s going to want to play with his toys,” you reply.

“Well, he could just as easily do that at my place,” he reasons.

You consider it, but you shake your head. “Yeah, but we got him the bike. He’s probably gonna want to try it out for a few minutes before we get him cleaned up.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean you and Benny,” Dean says, his tone becoming surly. “And about that. Don’t you think a bike is something you should run by me? That’s typically a ‘dad’ kind of gift.”

You pause what you’re doing at the sound of his tone. Your brows knit together.

“Sorry, but I feel like a bike isn’t exclusively a dad thing,” you say.

“My dad got me my first bike,” Dean replies. “Spent a whole three days teaching me how to ride.”

You take a minute to think about it. You understand where Dean’s coming from, so you nod.

“Okay, I get it. You want to be there to help teach Robbie? I’m sure he’d love that.”

Dean tosses a wadded-up ball of frosting-covered napkins and stops, letting his hands fall to his sides in frustration. He draws closer and helps you untie the balloons from the picnic table.

“Yeah, I do, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Why can’t I take him home tonight?”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Well, like I said. The bike—”

“That I should’ve gotten for him,” he snaps. “Which, let me guess, Benny picked out. Right?”

You frown at him in earnest now. “Dean, why are you getting so upset about it? It’s just a bike.”

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.”

You turn toward him, trying to put a cap on your own annoyance. This isn’t the first time you two have had a conversation like this.

“We’ve gone over this before, Dean. Your schedule at the firehouse is just too unpredictable,” you say. “Robbie needs as much stability as possible between us. But…okay, if you want to take him tonight, that’s fine. We can bring the bike over to your place and show it to him there.”

You’re trying to be as reasonable as possible, and Dean knows that. Still, anger prickles just under his skin, and he can’t help but push his luck.

“You still should’ve asked be before you got the bike in the first place,” he argues.

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, it’s not like we bought him a Honda Civic. Honestly, Dean, why are you picking a fight with me right now?” you ask. “Did you and Lisa get into it again or something?”

Dean looks away and crosses his arms, giving you all the confirmation you need.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod. “I saw you two over there on the playground, looked pretty heated. But do me a favor. Don’t come at me with that energy, because I’m too damn tired of it!”

When you walk away from him, Dean can’t help but stare after you. He knows he fucked that up, just as he knows that you don’t deserve him snapping at you. He’s just too irritated to admit it.

For the entire week that follows, Dean finds himself distracted. He sticks to his word and helps Benny teach his son how to ride a bike in between their shifts at the firehouse, but Dean comes home each night feeling even more frustrated and drained than before. It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

These thoughts follow Dean to work, even while he climbs up the firetruck ladder in the rain. It’s parallel to a busted utility pole that still sparks with electricity, even in this torrential downpour. His task is to get up to the top and grab a large branch that’s tangled in the lines.

Rung after rung, he climbs. His safety mask protects his eyes from the rain, but he wishes they had some mini windshield wipers to keep his vision clear of the droplets pelting him in the face.

He also can’t help thinking of you. If Lisa’s right, then Benny’s about to become a more permanent fixture in Robbie’s life, and yours.

Okay fine. It’s not like Dean expected you to be single forever, but did you really have to get with one of his best friends? Does it really have to be Benny, who seems so natural with Robbie, and more patient than Dean, and more of a support to you and Robbie than Dean can ever be?

And then there’s Lisa’s little ultimatum. He understands why she’s frustrated with him. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long. He knows she’s not going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together. For him to decide, as she put it.

It’s not that he’s not sure about her, it’s just that…

Just that what? he wonders.

He manages to grab the wily tree branch and maneuver it out of the power lines.

He just doesn’t realize that his glove doesn’t have quite enough friction on the metal side panel of the ladder. Not only does his hand slip, but he’s forced to let go of the branch while he loses his balance. The branch falls to the sidewalk, far, far down below.

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

Holding Robbie’s hand tightly in yours is the only thing keeping you steady as you lead him through the hospital. After the receptionist had checked you both in and gave you the room number, you hastened down the hall and up to the right floor. 2005.

Robbie breaks into tears when he finally gets to see his dad, laid up though he is in his hospital bed. Your throat tightens at the sight of Dean hooked up to all those monitors. He has his arm wrapped up and fitted into a sling. He has a thick piece of gauze taped to the side of his face, covering a wide, angry abrasion, but he seems to be resting easy on his back. The bed is at an incline, with most of the overhead lights turned off.

Robbie rushes to the bed before you can stop him. He hesitantly touches Dean’s non-injured right hand. “Daddy?”

“Robbie, wait,” you say, keeping your voice quiet. You quickly go over to the bedside and grab ahold of Robbie’s shoulders, but Dean takes a deep breath. His eyelids crack open.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, attempting a smile. His voice is rough and weak, but at least he’s awake.

Robbie’s lower lip wobbles as tears fill his eyes again.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says, a little stronger. When he reaches out to his son, the kid hops up onto the bed and buries his face into his father’s chest. Dean holds him as securely as he can, soothing his hand over the boy’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay, little man. ‘M okay,” he promises. Robbie nods, but he still continues to cry.

You can’t help but do the same. Tears slip down your cheeks without your consent. Dean beckons you over too, gesturing with his chin and a slight smile. You’re more tentative in the way you sit down at the edge of his bed. You run your fingers through Robbie’s light brown hair to help reassure him. Then, you meet Dean’s gaze and lay a hand on his good shoulder. You don’t know whether you’re steadying him, or yourself.

“How do you feel?” you ask. “The hospital called me. Benny told me what happened.”

The thought reminds you to text your boyfriend. You hadn’t had a chance to tell him you made it here yet. He must be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat, because he’s the one who rode with Dean in the ambulance and has been with him for a while.

“The hospital called you?” Dean notes in slight confusion.

“Eileen told me that Sam is in court right now, so I must’ve been next on the list,” you say. He also must have taken Lisa off his emergency list the last time they broke up for almost a month. He probably forgot to update it again.

You reach out a hand to almost touch the bandage by his temple. Instead, you hesitantly hold the side of his face to see the area better. Dean closes his eyes for a moment. You can see he’s in pain. Your hand lingers on his cheek, but you know, deep down, that it shouldn’t.

Dean doesn’t stop you though. He lets out a deep breath, savoring how nice the gentle touch feels when the rest of his body feels battered to hell.

“Fell off the ladder. Was a stupid rookie move,” he explains, but when he sees that look on your face, he tries to inject a little more joking into a smile. “S’ not so bad.”

“You could’ve broken your head as well as your arm,” you say, more sharply than you mean to.

Robbie whimpers and clings tighter to Dean. You cover your mouth, as if you can trap the words back inside. You don’t want to upset your son more than he already is, so you fall silent. Another tear works its way down your cheek, but you brush it away. Dean shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he reassures you too. He manages to smile as he pats Robbie’s back. “Right, buddy?”

The boy’s head perks up. His eyes are still shiny, but he smiles too. He’s not one to speak when he’s upset though, so he just curls up against Dean’s chest and hangs onto him. Dean rests his good arm snugly around him.

You smile and stroke Robbie’s back. Though your hand lowers, resting on Dean’s hand. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Dean’s fingers curl around yours, prompting you to glance up into his eyes. The way he’s watching you is soft, grateful.

Until the door creaks open. Benny steps in with a subtle clearing of his throat. You jolt internally, and you slip your hand away from Dean’s. You offer your boyfriend a wan smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, baby.” He comes over and greets you with a kiss to the side of your head. He smiles at your son gently. “The gang’s all here.”

“Oh! Let me call Sam, and Lisa too. They still don’t know what’s going on,” you say. You get up from the bed to grab your phone out of your purse. Dean nods in agreement and thanks you, while Robbie plays with his dad's long fingers.

“How you holdin’ up, brother?” Benny asks, after you step out of the room. He settles into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“Ah, you know me. I’m like a cat. Always stick the landing,” Dean says, smiling lazily. The morphine is starting to kick in again.

Benny smirks. “Maybe you do got nine lives, the amount of close calls you like gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean’s good humor fades. He considers his son in his arms, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, no more,” he says. He got a taste of what it would be like to leave his boy behind, and he’s not fucking doing it. He’s not leaving you to raise Robbie by yourself. The mere idea tears a new hole in his heart.

His eyes sting just enough that he has to blink a bit harder, swallowing past a thick well of emotion in his throat. He presses another kiss to the top of Robbie’s head. Then, Dean meets Benny’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it.

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

When Lisa steps off the hospital elevator on the second floor, you happen to be coming out of the bathroom to fix your racoon eyes. You’ve been crying way too much. You attempt to greet Lisa with something reassuring, but she cuts you off.

“What happened, and why didn’t the hospital call me directly?” she asks.

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

“Well, Sam and I were listed as his emergency contacts—”

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you can’t help it. You’re too tired and emotionally drained to lasso in your temper with this woman.

“Maybe if you and Dean stayed together longer than five minutes at a time, he’d put you back on the short list,” you sling back. “But the truth is, you’ve never just…been there for Dean. Not without demanding something from him.”

Lisa scoffs incredulously. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re the reason he can’t commit to anything. You think your little world is the only one that matters, and you call Dean for any little thing! What, don’t you have a boyfriend to help fix your goddamn sink?”

You open your mouth to retort, but you pause as her words seep into your mind. She might actually have a small point about that one. You realize then just how often you’ve been asking Dean for his help, not just with your apartment, but with your car, and other logistical things that usually have to with Robbie. Dean’s just such a good handyman, and you thought he genuinely liked being able to help…even though Benny did mention once or twice that he’d be just as happy to help you.

“Lisa, this is a lot more than a leaky sink. I just wanted to get here with Robbie and make sure Dean was okay,” you try to explain.

“Good. I’m glad his son was the first person Dean got to see when he woke up,” Lisa says. “But I should’ve been the second.”

She brushes past you before you can even think of what to say. You’re in a state of shock, feeling guilty, incensed, and on the verge of tears all at once.

A familiar voice calls your name, and you turn to Benny just as those tears begin to fall. He gathers you up into his arms and holds you there in the middle of the hallway.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, no matter how high tensions are today. I’ll talk to Dean,” Benny says. You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, clenching your fingers in his red flannel shirt.

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, despite the sob that shudders through you. You’ve lost the will to fight.

Benny shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It ain’t okay, baby.”

“Please, don’t bother Dean with this. Especially not right now,” you say. You take a moment to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself. “I’m gonna go get Robbie so Dean can rest.”

You can’t shake the feeling that Lisa is right. You do rely on Dean too much. You just don’t want to think about why that is.

Dean makes a full recovery after a few months. He never does hear about what happened in that hallway, but he knows that things need to change.

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything.

He’s making a firm decision, and he thinks it’s the right one. He wants to be there for his son, but he doesn’t want to keep “spreading himself too thin.” He has to figure out how to set some roots, and some boundaries with you while he’s at it. He’ll just have to come to terms with the idea that he won’t get to be there for everything.

He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad.

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the past few months keeping yourself in check as well. You’ve stopped calling Dean for help whenever something breaks down in your old-ass apartment. You try to keep your conversations less about life and troubles and whatever funny thing your students did that day in class, and more focused on Robbie–strictly about his schedule and his needs.

It’s kind of painful, if you’re honest with yourself. Sam will always be one of your closest friends from college, but in the past five years, Dean has truly become your best friend. Because you’ve told him things. The things that come from sharing a child with someone, like Sunday dinners with your parents, flipping through old yearbooks and childhood pictures—and the details of day-to-day schedules and little stupid things that happen in moments between moments.

Dean also knows the deep cuts. Like being pregnant and scared and breaking down crying on the side of the road. Like sharing the deepest well of your insecurities with someone who knows your body intimately, even if just for one amazing night...a night you’ve never quite been able to put out of your mind.

However, you know that things can’t stay the same. From now on, he just needs to be your son’s father. Nothing more, nothing less.

So today, on a crisp April 24th, you’re getting ready for a highly anticipated evening with your boyfriend. Robbie is sleeping over your parents’ house, and Benny has been planning something special for your third-year anniversary.

You slip into your new dress, a deep emerald green, with a pair of black heels you’ve rarely worn since before you got pregnant. Come to think of it, you were wearing these the night of Sam and Eileen’s bachelor-bachelorette party. The night you…well, the night Robbie was conceived.

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You even consider changing.

You’re being silly, you shake your head. They’re just shoes.

And yet. Thinking of that time so long ago, it reminds you of a recent Sunday dinner at your parents’ house.

Two Months Ago...

Your parents live modestly, but comfortably in rural Kansas. Their ranch-style home boasts a creek in the backyard, where your dad is teaching your son how to catch minnows. Your mom is inside working on an apple pie, knowing it’s both Dean’s and Robbie’s favorite.

You and Dean have kept close to the house under the shade, sitting on a bench made more comfortable by a pair of old polyester cushions with red, faded flowers.

“How much longer do you have to wear that?” you ask Dean. He glances down at his cast-covered left arm.

“Doc says it’s about ready to come off,” he says.

You nod, allowing yourself a certain smile. “How bad are you itching to grab my mom’s garden shears and cut it off right here?”

“Woman, don’t tempt me,” he says, his lips twitching at a grin. “I’ve been eying those overgrown scissors for the past half hour.”

You laugh and take another sip of your glass. Yours holds sweet tea, while Dean’s has some of your dad’s favorite whiskey. You both raise your heads when Robbie yells across the backyard.

“I caught a minnow!”

“Good job, buddy,” Dean grins. “See if you can catch a marlin!”

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

“Yeah, like that orange guy in Finding Nemo,” Dean calls back.

Your dad gives Dean the same wry look you do, though yours is tinged with more amusement.

“Dean, that’s a clown fish,” you say. “He’s not gonna find that in the creek.”

“Aw, shit,” he tries to quiet his laugh. “Ah well, should keep him occupied for another twenty minutes.”

You bite your lip to stifle your laughter as well. Though something else occurs to you the longer you watch your son play and explore in the creek. Your dad has the patience of a saint as he puts yet another bait worm on the hook for the kid.

“He’s starting to ask questions, you know,” you tell Dean, in a quieter voice. “‘Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together?’”

Dean's brows raise. His good humor dims when he looks over at you.

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

You take in a deep breath, considering your words now as carefully as you did with your son.

“That we care about each other a lot, as friends,” you say, meeting Dean’s eyes. “And we love Robbie very much. Nothing’s going to change that, even if you and I aren’t together like a normal mom and dad.”

Saying it like that makes your heart twinge, for more than one reason. The way Dean’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile just makes it worse, but you try your best to ignore it.

“I never thought about having to explain it to him,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

It’s that anxious tell of his again. You notice every time he does it.

“I have,” you admit. “I just didn’t know for sure what I was going to say until it was coming out of my mouth.”

Dean smirks a little. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

You roll your eyes and sip your drink, crossing your arms as well. Dean considers you then, looking at you in a way that makes you raise a brow in question.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He sits back against the bench and rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “For the record, I did try to ask you out once.”

“What?” you scoff incredulously. “No, you’ve been with Lisa since the beginning.”

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

He isn’t joking. He isn’t teasing. He’s serious as he stares back at you with those green eyes of his. Your brows furrow as you wrack your brain. Did he drunkenly leave you a voicemail on one of those “off again” episodes between him and Lisa? No. You know you’d remember something like that.

“It was a few weeks after the bachelor party,” Dean says. “I called you up, remember?”

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Dean, you did not ask me out,” you say. “You wanted to hook up. There’s a distinct difference.”

Dean frowns at you. “No, I was. I invited you over—”

“For essentially some Netflix and chill,” you retort.

“Hey, I offered to make you dinner,” he argues. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up.”

You pause at that. His earnest denial makes you actually think back to what you remember about that conversation on the phone.

You cover your lips with your fingers as you begin to realize…

“That was you asking me out?” you ask incredulously.

Dean’s brows furrow and he throws his hands up. “What? Who doesn’t like a little movie night?”

“Dean,” you huff another laugh. “You could’ve made it sound more like a date.”

“Well, ‘scuse me. Sorry I couldn’t afford the Ritz at the time,” he grumbles.

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

The more you think about it, the more you just shake your head at yourself. Why did you have to overthink it, like you do everything?

“Wow,” you say, softer and more contrite. “I honestly never thought…”

“Yeah,” he says. He shifts his gaze out ahead.

You glance over at him, now more unsure of yourself. He wouldn’t have any regrets, you think. He has Lisa. As much as they go at it, they always inevitably get back together. And now you know they hired a realtor. They’re about to start making solid steps forward.

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

He doesn’t finish it, but you think you know what he’s asking. You hesitate, your fingers flexing around your glass that beads with condensation. You set the glass down beside you.

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

“All right, pie is cooling and dinner is served!” your mom calls out. Her head pokes out of the sliding glass door to the backyard. You offer a smile, trying to hide how you jolted in your seat.

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

You turn back to Dean, who also hesitates. His eyes meet yours, but all too soon, he locks the moment away.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he rocks to his feet and goes out to get Robbie and help your dad bring in the fishing gear.

You grab Dean’s whiskey along with your tea on your way back inside the house. You consider the amber liquid disturbed in his glass, and you down the rest yourself. The burn down your throat is a good distraction. If he asks about it, you’ll say you got the glasses confused.

You know you’ll have to leave that conversation unfinished at the foot of the bench.

Now...

Benny comes by your apartment and helps you into the passenger side of his pickup truck, like the gentleman he is. He takes you to a nice restaurant in downtown, much nicer than the usual sports bar or kid-friendly restaurant. You're very much looking forward to eating at a restaurant that doesn't feature chicken fingers or "kiddie" corn dogs.

“This is gonna be really expensive,” you whisper to him, after he hands his keys over to the valet.

Benny squeezes your hand in his, leaning over to kiss your temple.

“Don’t you worry about that. We both deserve a night out.” His blue eyes gleam with amusement. However, his gaze gentles, becoming more sincere. “You work hard, carin’ for everybody around you. How about you let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes begin to water, your throat constricting with emotion. You rub his arm gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

It’s always easy with Benny. Nice and simple and easy. Nice, supportive, and considerate.

Nice and safe.

That thought follows you while you and Benny walk into to the restaurant. He’s reserved great seats in the back corner, overlooking a beautiful courtyard. It’s decorated with hydrangeas and light wood dining tables, all framed with a rod iron archway as the sun begins to set just so. After holding your chair out for you before he sits himself, Benny orders a bottle of champagne to kick things off.

He turns to you with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes, like he's steeling himself. It’s uncharacteristic of Benny, who’s always so calm and charming and sure of himself. It makes a zing of anticipation run down your spine, and…a dash of fear. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how to beat the feeling down as you fidget in your seat.

He subtly clears his throat, then takes your hand. “Sweetheart, I know I’m not all that good at the words you’re supposed to say. But I can say that the past three years with you and Robbie, it’s come to mean the world to me.”

Your smile softens. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, encouraged by your reaction.

“So I think it’s time I made it clear where I stand, and how much I want to be the man in your life,” he says.

Your eyes begin to widen in shock, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

You point over his shoulder, and Benny turns to follow your line of vision. Dean and Lisa have just walked into the restaurant. They notice you pointing their way, and they both pause in surprise as well. Lisa is beautiful as usual in a slinky black dress, completely backless (something you feel you could never pull off, unless you had an invisible bra to keep the girls perked up).

Dean is…well, you’ve very rarely seen him in a suit, but charcoal gray works for him. The open collar and white buttoned-down works for him, as do the three top buttons he’s left undone, showing a tantalizing strip of tanned skin. He stares back at you like he forgot you live in the same time zone, let alone the same zip code.

“Uh, hey!” he casts out an awkward wave, before he makes his way over to you and Benny. Lisa is less than enthused.

“We shouldn’t interrupt their night,” you catch her whisper to him, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear her.

“What’s up, party people! Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Dean says, a little too loudly when he thumps Benny on the back. Benny grunts, giving a bit of a forced chuckle.

“Dean,” he greets. “I think I told you about this particular gin joint. Good to see you can actually clean up once in a while.”

“Ah, you know what, this monkey suit ain’t too bad,” Dean says, pulling at his collar.

You smirk in amusement. “Yeah, I remember how much you complained about wearing a simple tie for Robbie’s Christmas pageant.”

He smirks down at you. “Hey, ties still might not be my thing, but nothing wrong with a sharp collar.”

He pops his for emphasis. You don’t know why it makes you laugh, but it does. Maybe it’s just his face and the silly, endearing expression he makes when he pouts his lips in a “blue steel.”

“So, is this just a night out, or you guys celebrating something special?” Dean asks, gesturing at the champagne bottle and your full glasses of bubbly.

Benny gives his friend a certain look. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Today’s three years.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile back at him, though you’re a bit self-conscious at the way both he and Dean, and even Lisa have their attention on you.

“We should let you guys get back to it then,” Lisa says.

Honestly, it’s a relief. You and Benny nod, wishing them a goodnight.

For some reason, you notice how Dean’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But he goes with Lisa, laying a hand on the small of her back. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from them and refocus on Benny. You take up your champagne glass and raise it in offering.

“All right, where were we?” you ask, if with a nervous trill in your belly.

Benny smiles. He takes up his glass and clinks it with yours.

Lisa nearly sighs. She and Dean are back in line at the front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. The second time she catches Dean glancing over at the table where you and Benny sit, she shakes her head and digs into her purse for the valet card. She’s done with this.

“I think maybe we should go to a different restaurant,” she says.

That finally earns Dean’s attention, mostly confused. “What, why?”

She just gives him a long look.

He realizes that whatever her reasons are, it’s easier to just give in than to fight her on it. He’s learning when to pick his battles. Or is he just giving up?

Also, if tonight’s “the night” he thinks it is for you and Benny, maybe he doesn’t want to stick around after all. Three years, huh?

“All right, fine. Let’s go,” he agrees.

Dean and Lisa wait for the valet to bring the Impala around. The minute he gets behind the wheel and turns the key into the ignition, she changes her mind.

“Look, let’s just go home,” she says. “I don’t really feel like eating out anymore.”

Dean’s brows raise. “What? Aw, come on. We’re already dressed and everything. You look great, Lis. Just tell me where you wanna eat.”

Lisa remains firm, with a small shake of her head. “Please, Dean, just take me home.”

After a moment of indecision, Dean sighs. He revs the ignition and does as she says.

It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to their apartment, but in that stifling silence, it seems to drag on for a small eternity. He glances at her a couple of times. Lisa has her arms crossed as she stares out the window, watching the other restaurants and mom-and-pops shops and forest trees and old houses of Lebanon, Kansas go by.

Dean counts it a blessing when they’re finally home. He walks up the few short steps up to their ground-floor apartment and unlocks the door. He flicks on the lights inside, and she breezes past him to toss her purse onto the couch.

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head.

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time.

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there.

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself.

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be.

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh.

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip.

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask.

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.”

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes.

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself.

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks.

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly.

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.”

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really.

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little.

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes.

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you.

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free.

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister.

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad.

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends.

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases.

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it.

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean.

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

So please let me know what you thought! 😘

⋆˙⟡ Keep Reading: The Epilogue

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

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#wonderful mutuals 💕

409 notes · View notes

mickmundy · 2 years ago

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Catching up with Thou Giveth Fever and aughh, dear author you're killing me over here (affectionate)

All this tooth rotting fluff and pinning making me role on the floor- OH WHAT'S THIS?

ANGST COMING IN WITH A STEEL CHAIR-

IM DEAD!! IM DYING !!! And this is only the beginning of the angst!!!!! this series carved out my heart and placed it in a blender and the next chapter you post is gonna blend it in the highest setting istg aaaaaa <3 <3 <3

idk if its too late but i read the author's note for one of the chap's asking what scene we liked and thought "oh theyre realllyyyyyy in love" and honestly the scene where Sniper and Medic were baking a pie in the lab/operating room(?)

It was So. Augh. I can't put it into words akdhqkdbn. How they shared stories about baking pies. How Sniper was flustered but also accepting Medic's flirts. The whole story of Sniper and his repression being equated with his experience as a kid and his dad calling him greedy for wanting pie???? Medic wanting to kiss is SO BADLY but restraining himself bc he doesn't want to make Sniper uncomfortable. But then Medic inciting the chase with the flour??? And Sniper feeling genuinely comfortable and letting himself have this fun??? AUGHHH TABLE SLAMMING this scene made me smile like a goofy, hyperactive child in a candy-store

Just??? The way you make these scenes so natural are Too Good <3 I'm seriously looking forward to the consequences of the failed uber (Medic may have pushed a littleeee too much this time uh oooh and Sniper is sooo gonna beat himself up over being this unprofessional on the battlefield)

I hope your day is going well wherever you are! Thank you for posting this series, its *chef's kiss* I eagerly look forward for what you have in store to torture our hearts as well as Sniper and Medic's <3

OH MY GOD HI HELLO I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS INCREDIBLY DELAYED RESPONSE!!! ;__; PLEASE FORGIVE ME.... but EEEEE i am SO happy you've been enjoying my series my friend, i hope you've liked how tachycardia ended!! ^w^ i am so eager to begin posting the next one.. don't worry, they are going to be in Torture Town for some time yet! HEHHE >:)

AND THANK YOU SO MUCH ;;; it really means a lot to me when people let me know that they like how i write the mercs; i want them to feel Believable and Human and i think with characters that have such a like. "legacy" like the mercs, it's something that makes me really nervous to do!! but i've been having the time of my life prying them out of their Fanon Cages and carving out my own interpretations of them... :') and i'm so overjoyed that readers like you enjoy! ^_^ <33333

i'm actually overjoyed that malus seems to be the most warmly-received of my fics in the series, it makes me really happy that people sympathized and resonated with their baking scene... <3 it was definitely one that i was nervous about sharing!! ;_; we've seen a lot of what's going on in sniper's head, but medic's has been kept Intentionally Ambiguous... until this friday! >:) HUHUHUHU....

thank you again SO very much my friend, your feedback means the ABSOLUTE WORLD to me and i am SO SORRY i haven't replied sooner!!! ;-; i hope you continue to read my stories, you are welcome in my inbox anytime and always!! ^u^ <33333 ILYYYYY

#asks #anonymous #thou giveth fever

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euphoricfilter · 2 years ago

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About DTIK (sorry that I was late reading your reply), I think it's really good. Not sure about tumblr cuz it's not as convenient as ao3 in terms of searching and filtering fics. I checked your fic on ao3; maybe change your rating though cuz you put general audience with a smut tag😅. One of the good things about ao3 is the hits really, you can see how many people have clicked your fic. I find your TBAH and DTIK really unique because.. really, not many people write about those. 9 tails and 4 arms demon. And I think that many people post their fics on ao3 because you can just go crazy and write bizzare fics and most readers know that, especially with the extra warning if there's below 18 reader. I know I'm all talk cuz I don't reblog fics on tumblr, but I love to leave kudos and bookmarks to good fics on ao3. I'm sorry, reblogging just kinda takes effort (I don't like disorganization with the tags and I like to stay anonymous here); ao3 is kind of just one two clicks away. I hope you still enjoy writing it, because even if it's not on high demand, if you like it, I think you can finish it. I'm sorry if I cross the line. I just really wish you want to continue it

you’re okay my lovely!!

oh yeah, DTIK was the first fic i ever posted on ao3 so the tags and all that are probably wrong because i didn’t know how to use it LMAO

maybe if i ever repost DTIK id keep it on ao3, i guess it did okay on tumblr, but i find that readers on here mostly don’t like super long fics, or i just didn’t brand it right or maybe something else. tumblr is still a mystery i’ve not figured out quite yet

a lot of people said the same things about TBAH and DTIK when they were only 2 fics on this page 🫡 i used to be so happy having exclusively unique fics too :(( that would have been so fun if that had become my trademark as a writer but i guess it wasn’t meant to be

hmm maybe exclusively on ao3 is the way to go then, i used to read most of my fics from ao3 so i’m familiar with how easy the system is, and maybe then lack of interaction on tumblr won’t weigh me down and kinda make me push the series to the side

i’ve talked about this with someone before on here about his disorganized storing fics are. especially because reblogs help a lot, but then it kinda clogs your page up and likes are useless because now i just have fics i like laying in the depths of my liked tab and i doubt they’ll ever see the light of day again 🥲 i think i go through a crisis every other month at this point, wanting to just re-start my whole blog because it feels like a huge mess and i never know how to fix it.

honestly, the only reason i started posting on tumblr was because of the inbox. it felt like having the anon feature gave people like me, who don’t like being perceived a chance to communicate and i thought, if i posted on here then at least some people might come in my inbox and that would be cute and then we can vibe. everything else about this app is kinda shitty

you’re not crossing the line at all!! i think if anything you’ve helped me out!! i truly do love that series more than anything i’ve ever written, it’s just the lack of enthusiasm from other people kinda made me feel like i shouldn’t waste other peoples time by writing it, like why would they wanna see that on their dashboard, you know???

i said in the last ask, but i have part of the first chapter already rewritten, and obviously the rest of the series isn’t gonna be hard to catch up with in terms of rewriting, i’m not changing the plot. just adapting the style slightly

ahhh you know i used to be so excited for people to finally read the ending because i just knew that if people were invested in the series and they read the final chapter they’d be like ???? oh 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

thank you for lighting the spark of inspiration for me, and thank you for loving the series 🫂 it means the world to me that you like it and want to know what happens next 💞 i don’t think i’ve abandoned it quite yet and i’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long for any sort of update

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corrodedseraphine · 2 years ago

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perfectly wrong | #2 I wish I hadn't saved you

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

chapter summary: Since your last meeting, Steve can't stop thinking about you and your situation. When one day Robin tells him that she is worried about your behavior he decides to check it out.

TW: mentions of: pregnancy, domestic violence, bruises, death, suicide, drugs

The story is also avaliable on ao3

previous chapter | masterlist | steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist

Your opinion, feedback, questions or ideas are always welcome! If there is something what would you like to see in the story feel free to tell me about it in comments or in my inbox which is always open for you guys! Thank you so much for reading!

Then...

You all agreed to celebrate Lucas's birthday by going to roller skating rink and then having a delicious big pizza. Although you weren't in the mood to go out one bit, you didn't want to make him unhappy. You were standing in front of the mirror applying makeup when a drunk Travis walked into the house.

"And where the hell are you going?" he asked leaning against the door. He could barely catch his balance, the stink of alcohol and cigarettes was making you sick.

"I'm going to meet Robin." you said. In theory it wasn't a lie, because Robin would be there too, but you didn't want to mention the rest, not knowing why your boyfriend was never happy about the fact that you were friends with a bunch of teenagers.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I didn't have time to make anything, you'll have to make it yourself." You replied digging into your makeup bag in search of lip gloss. Completely unsuspecting, you shrieked in surprise when you felt his firm grip on your elbow and pull you toward the wall. The cosmetics spilled all over the floor, and you were now standing trapped between the wall and Travis who was looking at you with a fury in his eyes, still tightening his hand around your arm with all his strength.

"This has to be the last time, do you understand?" he asked. You nodded your head. He yanked you even harder. "I asked if you understand!"

"Y-yes." you replied horrified. You noticed that he had been drinking more and more lately, and you suspected that he was using more than just alcohol, but you didn't want to bring up the subject without proof. His behavior was becoming more and more aggressive towards you, so far limited to verbal abuse, but today was the first time he caused you pain by leaving a mark of his strong grip on your hand. After a while you were alone in the house again, Travis left slamming the door. With shaking hands you picked up the cosmetics from the floor, trying to ignore the sense of fear that was building up in you. Wanting to avoid questions about the bruise on your arm, you quickly changed into a long-sleeved blouse and left the house.

There weren't many people at the roller skating rink, seeing Max and Lucas sitting at a table you forced yourself to smile and approached them saying hello. Within fifteen minutes you were joined by the rest of the team including Steve and some new girl. He introduced her as his date, her name was Madison.

At first everything was fine until Steve stopped hiding his displeasure at your presence. Criticizing everything you said, he always put up a counter to you. When you tried to say something during a group conversation, he would purposely start talking louder to drown you out and not let you get a word in which annoyed you even more. Eventually your patience ran out and you started playing his own game. You, Robin, he and Madison were sitting at a table and the younger rest of the crew was still skating. There was a silence between the four of you that you decided to break.

"Hey, Alice would you pass me a bottle of water?" you turned to Harrington's companion. The mistaken names were intentional.

"Sure, but, uhm, my name is not Alice…" she replied quietly. You immediately felt Steve's gaze on you.

"Oh, sorry! Silly me!" you laughed. "Mindy? Michelle? I am so sorry, but Steve has already introduced us to so many girls that it's hard to keep up." you replied with a wide grin. You knew that if Steve's eyesight could kill, you would have been lying dead a long time ago.

A moment later, Madison got up from the table, explaining that something had come up and she had to go. As soon as she left the table you sent Steve a look full of satisfaction, which workedfuse

like lighting the fuse of a bomb.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, slapping his hand on the table. "Why did she bother you?"

"She didn't bother me, she's a very nice girl! It's you and your hopeless behavior that bothered me." you replied. "I can see that King Steve still can't accept defeat,"

"You grumpy bitch!" he replied. "I don't care how pathetic and miserable you are, you have what you deserve, but damn it, stop passing it on to others! Just because your life is shitty doesn't mean you should destroy the lives of the people around you, your presence makes me fucking sick!"

"If my presence hurts you so much what are you still doing here, huh?"

"I'm here because Robin and these kids are like family to me, do you even know that word? Family? You definitely don't belong here, the worst part is that you are here now solely because of me, if I had let that monster devour you back then I would have had peace of mind a long time ago!"

"I didn't ask you to save me, asshole!"

"And now I regret it! I wish I hadn't saved you! Trauma is the only thing that connects you to us, you're not part of this group, you never will be!"

"Go to fucking hell Steve." you replied while getting up from the table.

"For the love of God can you stop? Even on Lucas' birthday you can't make an exception and have to argue like children? Those shitheads act more mature than you!" Robin burst out, unable to stand listening to your argument anymore. "I agree, what y/n did with Madison was not right, but goddamn it Steve, where do you get this bullshit? She is our friend, she is also part of the group whether you like it or not! The truth is that both of you can go to hell."

Steve snorted hearing her last sentence. "I've been there, and I'd honestly rather go back there than torture myself with her." he replied without taking his eyes off you. "I should have left you to die."

You didn't flinch to let him see how much those words hurt you. You knew that he hated you, you actually hated him too, but this hatred on your part was not so great that you would immediately wish him dead. However, it didn't hurt you that much, the real blow was to find out that you were not part of it all. The family. As he put it. Trauma is the only thing that connects you to us. You were terrified by how true his words could be.

"Y/n where are you going?" asked Robin as you started to walk away from the table.

"To live my shitty and miserable life, alone." you replied without even turning towards them.

Now...

It's been three weeks since you last saw Steve. Three weeks since he accidentally discovered, the mess that was now your life and since then, day after day, he couldn't stop thinking about it. You still avoided any contact with others, the only exception was Robin, with whom you worked at Family Video, but whenever she tried to talk to you about more serious topics you immediately fled to the other end of the room. You weren't sure if Steve had told her everything, you didn't see why he should keep it a secret, after all, he didn't care about you, everyone might as well have already known, but you still weren't sure. If Robin knew she would have told you, right? The uncertainty stressed you out even more, and stress lately was the only thing you felt.

When Travis found out about the pregnancy he started drinking even more, not to mention drugs. You weren't able to remember the day when you last saw him sober. Your house was slowly becoming a den, his raggedy friends treated it like a hotel, completely ignoring your presence. The worst part was that you couldn't say a word, because that would provoke another argument and that would mean even more bruises on your body. More than once, in their company, he slapped you for the mess in the house, which you barely managed to clean up. None of his pals even moved. In their sick minds, being a witness to domestic violence was a form of entertainment.

You knew that raising a child under such conditions was not an option. You couldn't escape either, because you had nowhere to go. Here, once again, Steve's venom-soaked words turned out to be true. You had no family, no one to take you in, so moving away from Travis equaled living on the streets, since your poor paycheck wouldn't cover the cost of renting an apartment and living with a child. However, you had a plan. A plan that was your only hope of escaping the hell you found yourself in. A plan that was destroyed even before you tried to achieve it.

"And what are you thinking about?" asked Steve. Taking advantage of his day off today, he visited Robin at Family Video bringing her lunch.

"Nothing that would interest you." she replied with a sigh.

"Come in, Robin, you know very well you can tell me anything."

"I know, but it's about y/n and I'm not going to hear once again that I shouldn't care about her. You can say what you want Steve, but she's my friend, even if you don't like it."

Hearing your name, he felt a strange surge of nerves. You hadn't left his thoughts for three weeks, and he was sure that after what he'd heard from Robin you wouldn't do so for quite some time.

"You can still tell me y'know." he said quietly. Just a few weeks ago he would have been ready to make a speech about how she shouldn't care about you because you apparently weren't interested in a friendship with her anymore, not sparing a few nasty expressions about you. But now that he knew the truth, every time he recalled everything he had said about you he felt a wave of remorse flood over him, if he had wanted to he could have drowned in it.

"When I came here it was already open, which was strange because lately he has been constantly late for the morning shift." she began to say while looking at a single point on the counter. "Later I heard some sound in the bathroom, Steve was crying, crying like a child in there. I quickly opened the door because I was scared that something bad had happened. It's been a long time since I've seen her so shaken…"

"Did she say what happened?" he asked clearly worried.

"No, when I asked what was going on she quickly wiped away her tears and began to tell me that she was just having a bad day and pretended to be fine until the end. I am worried about her Steve, what if she is in trouble? What if she actually started taking drugs together with that asshole?"

"Where did you get the idea about drugs?" he asked surprised. You were probably not crazy enough to take drugs while pregnant?

"Before she left here she asked if I didn't know to what degree the police had searched Eddie's trailer, if they were sure they had found everything there. And if they are still patrolling that area," she said, sending him a meaningful look.

"I mean, after all, half of the trailers is ruined, the Trailer Park is now the most abandoned and haunted place in Hawkins."

"I know, it doesn't make sense." Robin hid her face in her hands. "I wish I could help her but I have no idea how, she won't tell me what's going on at all."

"Do you know where she went?" he asked. The morning shift was supposed to end in just two hours.

"She said she felt sick and left to go home faster. She was really pale," she said.

The sense of anxiety grew in him with each passing moment. He wanted to believe that you were not so irresponsible, however, something in the back of his head remained alarmed by the situation. That is why when he said goodbye to Robin instead of going home he drove straight to the previously mentioned place.

Demolished trailers, rusted metal parts, some of them already overgrown with moss or entwined with some kind of plants looked like the perfect place to film a horror movie. The silence that surrounded the place was creepy to a certain extent. When he found the old Munson's trailer, he tried to go inside as quietly as possible. The walls were covered in cobwebs, the dusty floor with shards of glass pounding on it and broken furniture that had been damaged when the ground tore in half. The place where Chrissy died, a place where he could still feel a strange connection to the world beneath Hawkins.

Looking around, he finally spotted you. You were sitting on the floor of Eddie's old room. One board from the floor had been pulled out and was lying next to the hole. There was also a small box there. Hearing the sound of footsteps you frightenedly looked in his direction, your eyes were big, you looked like a deer in the headlights. In your hand you held several small pills, far too many for one person. Such a dose could kill you, not even the bravest drug addict in the world would take so many at once.

Oh no.

Then it all came to him. You were not addicted to drugs at all. In fact, you were going to take them, take them once and properly. I wish you hadn't saved me. Your words came back to him with redoubled force and the realization of what could have happened if he hadn't come here now almost knocked him off his feet. Within seconds he was kneeling beside you holding your wrist. "Don't even think about it." he said. Seeing the scowl on your face, he looked at the spot he was holding. A purple bruise was spilling around your wrist, looking fresh. Walking with his eyes higher he noticed that it was not the only one on your body. His blood boiled at the thought that Travis had once again raised his hand at you.

"Why do you care what I do?" you asked trying to break free. "I thought that's what you wanted. You would finally have peace of mind."

"Stop it." he tried to be calm, but his voice was trembling. "Why do you want to do it?"

"Why do you care?" you repeated your earlier question. With all your might, you tried to keep a strong attitude. Not to let him see you suffer, but your body turned out to be the biggest traitor. Accelerated breathing, shaking hands and tears streaming into your eyes did not escape his attention.

"Why do you want to do this?" he did not let up. He spoke now through clenched teeth still holding your wrist. Your stubbornness irritated him, but when he saw the first tears dripping down your cheeks he immediately softened. Your lower lip was trembling, once again he saw you in a vulnerable, lost state, this time, explaining to himself that it was instinctive, he hugged you. As you were pulled, the pills from your hand spilled out onto the floor, and hidden in his arms you cried harder and harder. You broke into pieces and he tried to hold them all in one place. The closeness and warmth you felt was overwhelming and unfamiliar. So foreign that you didn't realize how much you missed it.

"Why?" he asked again, his voice was gentle, soothing even, probably never used towards you in his life.

You heard it many times when he helped Robin with panic attacks, or comforted one of the kids. But you never thought there would come a day when he would use it to help you.

"He took them." you muttered into his shirt between sobs. "He took all my money. I had a plan. I had a plan to fix it all, but he destroyed it. He found the money and took it. Everything." Your crying became more and more hysterical, you could barely catch your breath. Steve shifted his position nimbly so that he was seated behind you. His arms wrapped around you from behind, and you leaned your back against his chest, letting him hold you.

"I've got you." he said quietly pressing his cheek against your head. Again, the same tone that made your heart flutter even more. "What plan?" he continued.

"I've saved a lot of money…Enough." you said. "I was supposed to go to the clinic and then get as far away from him as possible, but it's over now, he took everything and drank it all away. He lost all my money on alcohol and drugs, it's over, it's too late! Even if I had money it's too late!" you were distraught, you didn't know how to deal with the fact that your last hope had just been extinguished.

When he heard the word clinic he froze. He understood that you wanted to escape, but why couldn't you do it with the baby? Abortion seemed like a terrible solution to him, but he couldn't judge you. He wasn't in your situation, he himself didn't know exactly what he would do if he found himself in one like this.

"I won't let you give up." he said pressing you even tighter against him. He didn't know where those words came from, but at that moment he didn't have time to think about it.

On the other hand, the whole situation had come to you. As soon as you heard them you woke up from the intoxication caused by the sudden closeness and jumped away from him as if you were burned.

"I don't need your help." you said suddenly taking your defensive posture. He looked at you in shock at how quickly you changed your attitude.

"Let me help you, if not me then at least tell someone else about what's going on, Robin will for sure do everything she can, or Hopper and Joyce."

"I don't need your help, I don't need your pity!" you shouted. You still couldn't control your emotions.

"Why?!" he exclaimed. "Why the hell do you have to be so stubborn and not let me help you?!"

"Because I know you Steve! Because I know that at the first better opportunity you will use it against me!"

He didn't expect those words. He didn't expect how much they would hit him. You were right. He knew you were right, he always did this. He always turned various situations against you at every possible opportunity. The fact that you thought he would do the same now made him feel disgusted with himself. Over time, he became so blinded by your hostile relationship that he didn't even notice how awful a person he was able to become at that time.

Wanting to escape his presence as quickly as possible, you ran out of the trailer embarrassed by what had just happened. You knew that the moment of weakness you allowed yourself there would cost you a lot. What's worse, Steve Harrington saved your life once again that day, and you hated that fact even more.

taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @tlclick73 @sheisjoeschateau @hollandweather @lma1986 @scarletwitchwhore @freezaz123

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arent-i-the-fairest · 3 years ago

Note

sliding into your dms- I mean inbox- aHEm- sorry I'm lame-

Totally not me requesting for a hc for T*ey, A*e and A*ul with an s/o who likes to sing in private buy gets caught by them one day and gets embarrassed eheheh-

if anyone of these people see @/jackplusie, @/forgwater or @/sapphirelakemanor or literally anyone who says "Honey, you simp" sees this, DO NOT listen to them. I am no simp for the three men mentioned-

but other than that, hope you have a great day and drink plenty of water! ^^

𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 !

author’s note : oh, why it’s the notorious non-trey, non-ace, and non-azul simp, honey! (＾ω＾) i do adore your blog, hehe~ hope you enjoy this work that includes some of your least favorite twst boys!

—and thank you kindly! hoping you have a great day as well~ ♪

you sighed, watching the hands on the clock tick. your boyfriend is kinda late to your work session, and you’ve been waiting in the library for a while now… so making sure the coast was clear, you started softly humming a tune, which led to singing.

you were enjoying yourself. so much so that you hadn’t even noticed the sound of the doors opening.

“prefect?”

trey clover

“a-ahah. now, now. no need to freak out or be embarrassed! i think that you’re a great singer,” trey assured you. but you still sat there, face in your hands, and mumbling about how humiliated you feel. “would, uhm..” trey thought for a moment. “would… compliments maybe make you feel any better?”

god he’s so bad at giving praise, please help this boy. they’re either too basic “your singing. it’s good.” or too much/too cheesy “your singing reminds me of.. of the chirping of birds! and the river, how it flows so gracefully—” and there’s never an in between. plus, he’s bad at delivering them.

—but they are sincere, he loves your singing a lot! he’s a bit apprehensive to ask you if you could sing around him though, he doesn’t wanna make you feel pressured to say yes or give you any other kinda hardships by asking. so he sort of just waits around, hoping you get the confidence to do it.

no problem if you don’t though, it’s whatever you want! but if you do, that’s great~!

“came to help me out with these?” trey asked, sliding all the dirty dishes and utensils from baking into the sink. “nuh-uh, just here to sit down. hang out. maybe get my homework done.” you replied, and he hummed.

after a while, you found yourself wanting to sing, and so you did. it was quiet at first, but you started realizing you were getting louder. and it felt comfortable, not at all like you used to feel when singing around others. trey smiled to himself. “beautiful.”

ace trappola

“what? you think i’m gonna make fun of you?” he grins, shaking his head. “i won’t. well, maybe— just for the fun of it, y’know? but let me praise you ‘n stuff first!”

has no idea why you’d hide this— you’ve got a nice voice! but yeah he did go through and tease you a little after letting you know how cool he thinks you singing is, hehe~ not the kind that makes you insecure, of course!

he also promised to you that he’d keep his mouth shut about your little hidden talent. but this is ace we’re talking about. just the next day, deuce came up to you in the hallway and asked if what ace said about you “being a super good singer” was true. sigh.

will randomly ask you to sing for him to annoy you, sometimes asks for a specific song too— and of course it’s either 1.) a popular song or 2.) a really dumb cringy one. he doesn’t expect you to say “yes” in the slighest, of course.. but he won’t be complaining if you do. (the total opposite, really.)

“y/n!” he whisper yelled, trying his best to not have crewel catch him bothering you. you sit in front of him, so he takes his pen and starts poking your back with it. “y/n, y/n, y/n—”

“ace!” you hissed, quickly glancing back at him. crewel gave you a suspicious glance and you awkwardly smiled, waiting for him to continue teaching. when he did, you turned back to ace. “what do you want? because if it’s notes you want, you’re not getting them!”

“nah, i don’t want those, i just got a request for you— can you sing for me right now?” he snickers, and you let out a deep sigh.

azul ashengrotto

“why so shy? you have quite the lovely singing voice.” azul hummed, putting a hand on his chin. “—?! no, i was not thinking about asking if you want to sing as customer entertainment in the mostro lounge! i’m hurt that you imagine me as the type to always have money on my mind.” he sighed.

. . . “but if it interests you—”

okay, so maybe azul was thinking about having you sing at the mostro lounge, moving on— he’s actually pretty happy to know you enjoy singing! he’s got a love for music; he even used to be in a band with the leech twins in middle school!

but anyways, it’s got him thinking about these little scenarios— like having you sing while he plays the piano, or a duet, as he’s quite a good singer himself! he knows there’s a small, maybe even zero, percent chance of those happening though, since you don’t like singing in front of others. he can dream, though~

he’s also still kind of attached to the idea of having you to do performances in the mostro lounge, and it’s just ‘cuz he knows you would do so well!! you’re lucky you’re his s/o though— he doesn’t ask you about it too much since he knows you’re not interested. (still asks every now and then in case you’ve changed your mind though, lol) —if you were anyone else, he’d be pressing 24/7.

“you’re sure you still don’t wanna give us a little song ‘n dance, shrimpy~?” floyd asks, leaning an arm on your table. you nod. “yes. yes, i’m very sure, floyd.”

“floyd, are you bothering them again?” azul asks, crossing his arms. floyd lazily shook his head. “nuh-uh, i’d never, boss~” he grins, and azul sighs, pushing him away so you could have your meal in peace.

“please excuse him, my dear.” your boyfriend smiles. “but remember, if you do change your mind—” “no.”

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #gn reader #trey x reader #ace x reader #azul x reader

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 years ago

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tips on subtle manipulation? I want it to be clear (or at least somewhat noticeable) by a reader, but not to be noticed by my main character.

Subtle Portrayal of Manipulation

Here's the problem: not everyone has the same understanding, knowledge, or experience when it comes to manipulation. So, for the same reasons your character doesn't realize they're being manipulated, some of your readers won't realize it, either. That said, you can't rely on the reader to pick up on subtle clues. You have to be clear about what's going on, but that doesn't mean the character has to realize it.

The key is to have a character who does realize what's happening and use them to clue the reader in. This can be the manipulative character themselves or a third character who witnesses these interactions. So, your portrayal is made up of three parts: -- the manipulative act -- the clueless reaction by the one being manipulated -- the knowing response by the character who realizes what's up

----------------------------------------------------

Let's say Character A is clueless that they're being manipulated by Character B, and Character C has witnessed some of these manipulative interactions:

The Manipulative Act

"Oh! A, can you give me a ride to my show tomorrow night," B asked as he stood and put on his coat.

A frowned. "Sorry, I can't tomorrow night. I promised to watch my little sister so my parents could go to dinner, and they live on the other side of town. C? Can you take him?"

"No can do. I'm leaving for Boston tomorrow morning and won't be back until next Tuesday." I tried to sound sorry, but I was glad that neither one of us could bail B out this time.

"Oh. Well, no big deal," B replied, waving it off with his charming smile--the one that always made A's insides melt. "I wouldn't want you to have to drive a few minutes out of your way to save me a 30-minute walk. I'm sure the cold air will do me some good--if I don't catch a cold." He added a lilting laugh to the end that made him sound upbeat but forlorn. It made me cringe, but I could see A's wheels turning.

The Clueless Reaction

"You know what? I can just leave early and show up a little late to my parents'. They'll just have to deal with it."

"Thanks, A!" B grinned and strode out of the cafe with all the confidence of a successful conquest. A gazed wistfully after him, blissfully unaware of how she'd been played.

The Knowing Response

"Why do you let him manipulate you like that, A?"

"B? He's not manipulating me--what are you even talking about? Are we villainizing people for asking for rides now?"

I ignored her and focused on finishing my cherry cobbler. It irked me that she couldn't see what he was doing to her--what he had been doing to her for weeks now.

---------------------------------------------------------

Alternatively, you could have C just think about what they'd witnessed (rather than confronting A about it), have them confront B about what they're doing to A, or have them discuss the situation and their frustration with a fourth character. You may even choose a combination, or have multiple different characters in A's life who is aware of what's going on.

And, another alternative would be to have B be the one who tips off the reader through their own thoughts about A and behavior behind A's back. All that matters is that someone is cluing the reader in even while the character being manipulated remains oblivious.

I hope that helps!

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ollovae3 · 3 years ago

Text

Hallo!! Just popping in since I've been on hiatus for like.... Near a year (so sorry about that)??

Gist from Jan to now, before I hide away again for finals prep:

Was required to do full-time school while waiting for uni, in order to get healthcare.

Got told that, surprise, the uni I WAS going to be going to was officially not gonna take my GI Bill money, so that went down the drain 😬. However, also got into a new school which, honestly, is way WAY better of a fit?

Entire summer of emotional, social, and creative burnout. Talking hurt, I slept WAY too much, and got back onto SWTOR again!

College started, I now am renting w roomies (love them, great people) and learning to exist away from home.

College has been GREAT ngl, nice area, smaller school, and it turns out some of my fav teaches from Art HS are profs here!!

HOWEVER, workload is goddamn INSANE. 20 pages of art HW for ONE class on day one?? Also curse 3DS Max to hell and beyond for betraying my attempts to make a simple-ass treasure chest 🔪

I got into The Walking Dead?? Literally never thought I would and now I've grappled my parents into watching it with me somehow??

Currently am catching up on a SHIT TON of late work, trying to get work ready for finals, and also deal with a logic class I Sincerely Don't Get.

I will hopefully be back by winter break, and much more talkative?? So sorry to ppl who have asks in my inbox rn!! I have seen them, am planning to answer when I'm not half dead. And to the person who brought up some concerns, I see you, sorry I haven't replied, and I'm going to be taking care of it also as soon as I'm able, it's a big mess of things that I have to sort and prep for before can properly address it. ;-;

Love y'all and canNOT wait to show what I can of my homework, and of my tiny pieces of personal work I've been able to sketch in brief free moments 🤣

I hope y'all are taking care, know I love y'all, and I'm excited to talk to y'all again soon! 💖

#personal tag #hiatus #school woes #uni #college #art school #adulting #random tag #catch-up #info #love yall!!!!

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kaepop-trash · 4 years ago

Note

More Doyoung?

🥺

👉👈

(i dont think the emojis will work)

it worked 😂

Combining these two asks, because it is what it is. Sorry second anon I know this isn't what you really wanted but I have another ask for the club sitting in my inbox that's a bit more specific so whenever I get to writing that you'll get what you wanted.

This is so very unprompted. No one asked for this, but I thought about this and I couldn't stop myself from writing about this. I think about 'the club' and I can't just write some sappy missionary bs. This though is just so unnecessary. But you will accept it. Let me have my moments. This happens right after this ask, like literally the same day. I'm excelling at being self-serving lately. I'm sooo sleep deprived so you can blame this on that.

Pairing: Doyoung×Reader×Johnny

Warnings: [Hold on for this] Alcohol and Implied Drug use, Exhibitionism/ Voyeurism, Penetration, Unprotected sex, (Kind of) Threesome, Dirty Talking, Degradation, Praise, Edging, Glass-wall Sex, Some Cuckold Dynamics, Slight MalexMale, Handjob, Switches being Switches; Johnny's a hard dom in this one but he's also a pussy, No team players, Sex as a competitive sport, A handbag tangent, Lots of aggressive tension under the surface, Who is the biggest masochist in this? Leave it in the comments (it's me).

WC: 4444 (Leaving the whole number because this piece of sin ended on an angel number when god abandoned me a long time ago.)

Doyoung was pulled out of his attention while scrolling through his phone when he felt (Y/N)'s presence close to him.

"Are you wearing eyeliner?" She asked Doyoung, squinting in focus and leaning closer. Doyoung looked up from his phone, frowning at the sudden proximity.

"Yeah, I am." He told her, justifiably confused.

When the sofa dipped beside her she leaned back, "Oh." She turned her posture to face Doyoung completely.

"Why? Is it weird?" He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

She clicked her tongue, "It's fine. You look hot." Doyoung looked behind her with a gaze that was a mix of uncertainty and intrigue— to where Johnny sat down. It was definitely an interesting thing to say with the man right behind her.

"Thanks. So do you." Doyoung replied, looking back at her with a knowing gaze. Her lips tugged, finally turning to look behind her.

Johnny watched her with a deliberative gaze, looking deep in some thought. She looked at the drink in his hand with a mock pout.

"You could have at least gotten me one." She whined. Johnny extended his arm and she rolled her eyes with a dramatic flair.

"No, I don't want your whiskey. Get me a cocktail or something, I should be drunker than this at–" She paused, reaching for his arm to turn his watch dial to her, "2 in the morning. The three of us are the only ones left." She pointed at both men, unable to curb the small smirk on her lips. "Even the esteemed owner has left. Get me something lethal."

Johnny raised a brow at her, clearly a little annoyed. "The bar is quite the walk from here."

"It was your idea to come to sit at the back of the club." She reminded him.

"You were the one complaining about the loud music." He responded with equal bite. Doyoung watched the exchange with a perceptive gaze.

There was a moment of silence, both of them just staring at each other. Each staying guarded while also trying to read the other.

"I can go." Doyoung said awkwardly from behind her, suddenly feeling like he was encroaching. Johnny's eyes flashed with indignation as he looked at Doyoung, making him want to snort.

"No." She said, turning back to Doyoung. "You were telling me about your eyeliner." She put her cheek on her palm, trying to look interested.

"Plus," She tilted her head to catch Johnny from the corner of her eye. "Johnny knows what I like."

Doyoung spoke only after Johnny disappeared from the large room they were alone in.

"Why are you punishing him?" He questioned, making her frown.

"I'm not punishing anybody. He's been galavanting around all evening, he can get me a drink." She tried to make it sound like it was an obvious decision, voice nonchalant.

"You've been sitting here with me all evening." Doyoung raised a brow.

"You're my friend." She looked at him, a slow frown seeping into her features.

"I don't think he sees it like that, (Y/N)." Doyoung clicked his tongue.

"I don't think I care. And since when do you? " She looked away from him with a heavy frown. Doyoung chuckled, she was right of course. And Doyoung realised he could have some more fun out of it than he would if he walked out into the club.

So he just shrugged and let go, turning his phone to her. "Look at this video."

Johnny walked back into the room to find (Y/N) and Doyoung smiling at the phone in his hand, his hand casually on her thigh. The ice-cold drink stung his palm as his echoing footsteps approached them.

She looked up at him with questioning eyes when he stood in front of her in silence. He reached out the glass in his palm, chest caving despite himself when she gave him a smile.

“This is exactly what I needed.” She sighed after she finished half the drink in one long slurp from the straw.

“Why do you always drink these sugary drinks?” Johnny asked out of curiosity.

“They get you drunk faster. And generally tastes nicer.” Doyoung informed him in her stead. “Always efficient.” He scoffed, pointing his finger at her.

(Y/N) frowned at the gesture. “Please, don’t make that sound like it’s a bad thing. My efficiency has saved you from a lot of troubles.” She reminded him.

“It’s also gotten me laid so I’m going to have to agree.” He added, grinning when she paused as she went to take a sip of her drink.

Johnny watched as her back went stiff before she looked away and scoffed, shaking her head.

“You know what would be really efficient?” Doyoung announced, looking right at Johnny before back at her, raising a brow.

“No.” She replied to his unvoiced proposition. “Shut up.” She sat back, finally allowing Johnny to see her face. Johnny turned to look at her, unaware of what they were talking about.

“Let’s not pretend this isn’t where this was already going.” Doyoung clicked his tongue. A momentary agitation crossed her eyes before she took another large sip of her drink, shaking her head.

“We’ve done it before.” Doyoung raised his brow again and her brows creased together, turning an incredulous look at him.

She groaned. “That was a stranger! Doyoung just sh–”

Doyoung clicked his tongue, cutting her off, “We should ask Mr Boss what he thinks.” He looked up at him, the whole exchange only confusing Johnny more.

“What I think about what?” He asked with heavy caution in his voice.

“Nothing.” She turned to him.

“The three of us. Fucking. Don’t worry about her, (Y/N)’s pretending she doesn’t like the attention. It’ll be fun.” He breezed through the words.

Johnny felt too caught off-guard to say anything at first. He shouldn’t be opposed to the idea at all. In fact, he thought someone like Doyoung was almost close to his type.

“He’s probably strung on some drugs right now.” She turned to Johnny, defending the odd man instead of just saying no. “I’m sorry on his behalf.” She sighed.

“Now you don’t need to be my advocate.” Doyoung rolled his eyes. She turned her head to Doyoung, giving him a look so irritable but open that Johnny was both glad it wasn't aimed at him and felt bothered by the same.

“Why not?” Johnny found himself saying. “Nothing new.” He tried to sound nonchalant, adding a shrug. “You’ve already seen me have sex with someone else, how bad can it be?” The last statement felt, even to him, unnecessary. But it still filled him with a kind of gratification that he felt missing from the night so far.

She turned to him, eyes unreadable and always closed to his scrutiny. Johnny raised an expectant brow that hid the sting of his indignation.

“Fine.” Her voice was lower, looking over his face with a stiff jaw before turning around. “We will never speak of this again.”

“That’s our entire sex life.” Doyoung chimed in, grinning with a small glee.

“Upstairs.” She turned to Johnny. He could only nod, not one to back away from something he had committed to.

Johnny's hand gripped at the marble counter of the bathroom sink so tight that he had begun feeling pinpricks.

'You never take anything lying back.' That is what Doyoung said when he pressed her up against the glass wall that he was currently fucking her against. The man told Johnny he can watch from inside the bathroom. Like he needed to be given permission.

Johnny watched as Doyoung pressed her harder against the glass, her skin on display. He raised his other hand to take a sip from his glass, the whiskey now watered down till it tasted like nothing.

"Look at how hard he is, (Y/N). It must be my lucky day." Doyoung groaned into her neck, snapping his hip up in a way that made her lips part. Her hand grappled unsuccessfully at the glass before reaching back to Doyoung's waist.

Heat pooled in the depths of Johnny's stomach as they both groaned together. Doyoung's words seem to remind him of his growing arousal.

"You're so wet, babe." Doyoung growled. "Loving the eyes on you? God, you're making me want to take this condom off just to feel you cream my dick." He thrust his hips.

She pulled her pressed cheek away from the glass just enough, swallowing thickly. "Don't be cocky." She warned. "I don't want to risk an STD." Doyoung's lips twitched at the words.

"Does the boss know how dirty you really like it? I bet no one does." He bit down on her ear, turning to meet Johnny's gaze. "You've gotten so good at compartmentalising life in your neat little boxes haven't you, little liar?"

"I told you not to call me that, asshole." She smacked his waist hard enough that Johnny heard it. Doyoung flinched but his eyes remained on Johnny, scrutinizing him.

"9-5's don't really know how to have fun, do they?" Doyoung chuckled, hand slamming against the glass as he kept his eyes on Johnny.

With his other hand, Doyoung reached for her leg. Johnny bit down on his lip when he pulled it back to wrap around his waist.

"Fucking prick, I'm going to get a cramp." She groaned, hand reaching out to grab his arm on the glass so hard that her nails dug into it. Doyoung just winced playfully.

"You love it. Always taking the pain in stride." He spoke through gritted teeth, leaving a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Why does your man keep looking at me, (Y/N)? Do you have your eyes closed?" Doyoung scoffed.

"He's not," She gasped when Doyoung lifted the leg behind him higher. "He's not my man." She huffed.

The words made Johnny's blood spike hot in a way that he didn't expect, more than anything else that had happened so far.

"He's so hard for me then? Mr. not-your-man?" Doyoung hummed.

"Johnny is nobody's man. He likes men too. So I don't see why that's implausible." She sighed, eyes still screwed shut. She spoke like Johnny wasn't in the room.

"Oh my, (Y/N)." Doyoung smirked, "You've really made our tenth fuck a good one, haven't you? You aren't even trying to take over. Remind me to get you that Bottega bag you wanted." Doyoung brushed his lips over her shoulders, letting her leg go. Johnny noted how she kept it in place despite her previous protest.

"Shut up." She spat, head falling back when Doyoung bit down on her neck, a wretched moan leaving her lips. "God." She gasped with liquid pleasure, resting her head on his shoulder. The sound made Johnny squirm, his pants feeling tighter by the minute.

Doyoung pulled back, giving her a small smile. A familiar and comfortable smile as his pace turned relentless. She groaned, the hand on his arm only tightening.

"It was the green one wasn't it?" Doyoung asked. Johnny watched her finally open her eyes, giving the man a confused look.

"The bag?" Doyoung frowned. Her lips tugged, and she gave him a nod.

"You're certifiably insane." She laughed, the sound breathless between her strained moans. "Yeah, it was the green one." She nodded.

"You should get a Birkin or something. I'm feeling generous." Doyoung offered, the inquiry not obstructing the precise jolts of his hips but slowing down their frequency.

(Y/N)'s face scrunched despite it, "No thanks. I don't want to get insurance for a handbag."

Doyoung smiled a little more, giving her a nod. "I guess it's not your type of thing." He pushed the hair stuck on her face away.

When Doyoung leaned closer, Johnny's heartbeat grew. His fingers gripped the counter tighter than he thought possible just as Doyoung gazed at her lips.

The relief he felt when he kissed the tip of her nose did nothing for him. When Doyoung's lips brushed over hers Johnny gripped his jaw tight, finally moving away from the counter.

"My turn." Johnny announced, not lingering on the grin on Doyoung's face that looked almost victorious.

"You didn't even let me finish." Doyoung clicked his tongue.

"Go sit and wait and I'll finish you off myself. Neither of you knows what patience is. Fucking like animals in heat." Johnny voiced his disapproval.

Doyoung grabbed her leg to place it down despite the resistance. "Sorry babe." He laughed when she groaned, "I'd have to be an idiot to say no to that." He stepped back, leaving a small peck on her lips.

Johnny pulled his belt off with a swift tug at the sight, tugging the rest of his clothes off as Doyoung went to sit on the chair in the corner of the room. Johnny bit back a wince when he pulled down his pants, dick already painfully hard. It only added to his growing temper.

"On the bed, kitten." He ordered, watching her listen wordlessly with her gaze on the floor. When she started getting on her knees Johnny clicked his tongue. "On your back, I was having such a nice time watching you. Why stop now?" He stepped up to the edge as she turned, his shadow washing over her entire frame.

She watched him with the same unreadable eyes that Johnny had started to detest, both their chests still heaving.

"I've waited all night for this." He grumbled as he got on top of her. In one swift thrust, Johnny entered her raw.

"God you really are soaking wet." He groaned, willing himself to not rut into her desperately.

He pulled out so slowly that her lips parted with an audible gasp. Johnny's own teeth clenched just as he was inches away from falling out of her, entering back just as slow.

She whimpered, head falling back and hand coming up to his shoulder, still not looking at him. Johnny went so slow that he felt every inch of her walls clench around him, his own eyes shutting to relish the sensation. He maintained the pace for several minutes, both their bodies glistening with sweat.

"Johnny faster, please." She gasped finally, hand tightening on his shoulder.

"No. I want to feel you like this." He lowered himself a little closer to her, ignoring the burn in his arms.

"Please." She whimpered, bottom lip protruding.

"Does the rockstar know what a good little slut you are for me?" He questioned. She whimpered again, hand now reaching over to his neck. Johnny didn't look up when Doyoung sniggered at the words. "Does he know what a dumb little obedient pet you become when I fuck you?" He took her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down harsher than he had ever before. When she moaned with reckless abandon, Johnny's breath stumbled.

"My stupid slut can't even speak." Johnny hummed, lifting one hand to caress her face. He clamped his jaw, trying his best not to increase his pace. When she whined it felt worth his efforts.

"Johnny, please." Her brows creased, "Just a little faster, you're driving me crazy." She fisted his hair, his dick twitching from the harsh tug. "Please." Johnny saw the tears on the corner of her eyes, reaching over to kiss it. She took advantage of the distance, thrusting up into him.

Johnny put a hand on her stomach to stop her movement, "You're so fucking spoiled." He groaned, not giving in to the pleas as he stopped moving entirely. "Be a good girl and hold still." He buried his face into her neck, sucking on the skin with a task in mind.

"Johnny." She cried out, "Please I'm begging you. Move." She pushed her hips up again, pouting when he grabbed her waist and slammed her back onto the mattress. Johnny admired the deep maroon mark blooming on her neck, momentarily glancing at the red teeth marks on the other shoulder.

"Can't handle a little restraint, can you?" He growled at her with the brunt of his rage. "Hold fucking still, (Y/N). You need to learn how to listen." He pulled back till he was barely inside her.

"Johnny." She whispered, bringing both her arms to his waist in a desperate attempt to pull him back.

"Hands above your head." He ordered, jaw flexing.

Finally, (Y/N) opened her eyes. Her gaze laced with impatient anger aimed at him, irritable and undeniably open. Johnny took in a triumphant breath.

"If you're in the mood to boss someone around Sir, I suggest you go look for your blonde friend." A deep frown etched her face after a moment's consideration. One that made him realise that the meaning of the words was lost to her till she uttered them.

Johnny's lips twitched, the words making his chest stir in a way that was entirely new.

"And leave you hanging?" He taunted her, his hips still absolutely still while he remained inside her.

"Doyoung's still here." She tilted her chin up to catch his eye, "I wonder if you'll let me do this to you in front of your pretty friend. You sound better than me when you beg, you know?" She sighed.

Johnny reached for her chin, grabbing it tight and turning her head back to him.

"Eyes on me, pet. Do you think I didn't notice the little stunt you pulled before? Kissing me for her to see?" Johnny questioned, smiling when her brows raised in surprise. "Do you think I'm stupid? I just let you get away with these things. You are my favourite little slut after all." His hold tightened as he pushed back into her slowly, earning a guttural groan.

"My pretty friend would enjoy your little games. Probably more than I do. How about next time?" He raised a brow. Johnny let her chin go but she said nothing, eyes focused on him.

"You should call her now." Doyoung chimed in, reminding Johnny of his presence.

"Shut up Doyoung. Shut the fuck up, you stupid cuck." She snapped, eyes on Johnny despite who she spoke at. It made Johnny feel like the words were aimed at him.

Finally, Johnny could be certain that they were on the same boat. He pulled back out of her and slammed in faster, her head falling back.

"Fuck you, John." She writhed under him.

"You are." He replied, breathing turning harsh as he finally let go, pace getting brutal with each thrust. "Doing an exceptional job too." He reached over to kiss her chin. "Look at me?" He murmured, lips sliding over hers.

"Johnny." Her voice held a tepid warning.

"Eyes on me, kitten." He ordered, slowing down his pace to emphasise the demand.

She forced her eyes open and Johnny wasted no time moulding his lips over hers. He winced when he grabbed her hair a little harder but didn't break his kiss, watching her impossibly furious gaze with a sense of accomplishment. She pressed her tongue over him just to prove a point and Johnny smiled, pulling away from the kiss entirely.

"I forgot how hot you are when you're pissed." He gave her a softer smile, leaving a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth.

"God, Johnny just fucking shut up. I want to come." She snapped, hitting his chest as her eyes glazed over again. He pulled closer to her, leaving soft kisses all over her face. "Please, Johnny." She added with a softer voice.

"Just a little longer." He whispered the promise smiling when she shook her head in refusal. "You're doing so well for me, kitten. So perfect." He slowly built up his pace again, hand brushing her hair to soothe her discontent. "Just so perfect for me." He added, looking over her face one last time before burying his head into her neck. His breath stuttered when she slid her hand down his spine.

"I always knew you were the suit and tie kind." Johnny heard Doyoung scoff in the background, a distant sound to his ears behind her soft grunts close to him.

"How does it feel?" Johnny asked her, kissing the base of her ear. His voice was just loud enough for her to hear.

"So good. Always, always so fucking good, John." She squirmed, voice sounding like a low sob. "You drive me crazy." She sighed, immediately gasping when he wrapped a leg around his waist.

"Want to come?" He sighed into the mattress.

"Please, Sir." She moaned, making him smile.

"Close?" He left feather-light kisses on her neck. She nodded.

Johnny began rutting into her with exact jolts and a string of curses along with his name left her lips. It only spurred him on.

"God, Johnny." A shrill shriek left her as her muscles went rigid, her walls rapidly convulsing around him, driving him insane. Johnny grit his teeth, helping ride out her high without giving into his own impending release.

"I'm going to come on you." He announced, "I always wanted to know how you'd look marked with my come all over you." He pulled out of her quickly, groaning when she gave him a tired nod. As badly as Johnny wanted to aim at her face, he refrained. Jerking himself off onto her stomach instead.

(Y/N) watched as Johnny slowly slid off the bed, so tired that she really couldn't think of how she felt about what had passed. Even if she wanted to. Still, her chest stirred a little when she was reminded of the look in Johnny's eyes. One that looked so close to being enraged.

"You should go clean up." Johnny spoke, giving her a small smile.

"Yes, I should." She spoke, her limbs not agreeing to the pursuit. Johnny smirked like he sensed it, her stomach twisting again despite the sinking exhaustion.

"That was so hot." Doyoung broke the silence, making her roll her eyes. He was relentless.

Johnny slowly looked up, away from her to him. "I guess I owe you." He said as he slipped his pants back on.

She finally sat up, reaching over to grab tissues to wipe herself off. She considered her next steps as Johnny walked over to where Doyoung sat. She gave in to the impulsive part of her mind that seemed to exist only for the two men in the room with her, turning to look.

Just as she did, Johnny sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to reach Doyoung.

"Are you really a cuck?" Johnny asked, voice lacking any malice. In fact, his voice lacked anything but objective intrigue.

Doyoung's head fell back when Johnny's thumb brushed over his tip. "Are you?" He managed to get out. Johnny grabbed his shaft so hard in response that (Y/N) winced on Doyoung's behalf. But like she expected, he loved it, laughing instead.

Johnny started too fast, too soon and she heard herself clicking her tongue.

"Slower. He deserves some agony." She spoke, not cowering away when Johnny turned his gaze to her.

"Bitch." Doyoung said playfully, forehead creasing when Johnny did what he was told. "Don't listen to her, be your own man." Doyoung told Johnny.

"I always listen to her." Johnny shrugged. The words made her chest stir a little more.

Doyoung hummed, lifting his head back up to look at her. "What are you punishing me for?"

"Nothing at all. I'm just enjoying the view." She spoke, still sitting on the other end of the bed.

Doyoung smirked, "Sometimes I think you believe your own lies."

She took in a sharp breath, "Doyoung loves being told what a good boy he's being. Don't you, good boy? Trying so hard not to come when your pretty little cock is blue from the lack of attention." She retaliated.

"He really is a good boy." Johnny squeezed his dick, "Watching me fuck you without touching himself even once. I'm impressed, Rockstar. You have more patience than your friend does." He twisted his fist, making Doyoung gasp.

"Everybody has more patience than (Y/N)." Doyoung gave Johnny a wink, propping his head up.

"You should have taught her better manners." Johnny clicked his tongue.

"I'm still here." She frowned, not getting a response from either of them.

"Impossible. You can try your best, though." Doyoung gave him a secretive look, scoffing.

Johnny smirked at the words, "I would say I do a decent job." He turned to look at her, "Don't you agree, kitten?" She bit her lip, earning a short chuckle from him.

"You are trying your best." She shrugged. Doyoung laughed at the statement.

"You'd claw my dick out if I made you beg, so I'd say he's succeeding. I'm almost a little hurt, (Y/N). I've never heard you say please." Doyoung hip bucked and it brought her attention back to Johnny's hand, where he began pumping him with a steady rhythm.

"Are you enjoying this?" Johnny asked, and despite his gaze aimed at Doyoung, she just knew the words were for her.

"Yes." She answered. "You're so hot like this." She whispered, gut flipping just as she spoke.

"Then I guess we're all cucks." Doyoung laughed, groaning when Johnny pressed his thumb over his tip.

"Shut up." Both of them told him at the same time, (Y/N)'s voice was a little more annoyed than Johnny's.

"Will you come home with me?" Johnny asked her.

"Of course." She responded immediately. With a satisfied hum, Johnny increased his pace.

"Time to come, pretty boy. I need some sleep." Johnny told him, earning a quick compliant nod from Doyoung that made her lips twitch.

Johnny could make anyone obedient, she realised.

An afflicted groan left Doyoung's lips as he finally came. (Y/N) watched as his release dripped into Johnny's hand, ignoring the heat pooling in her core all over again. Johnny pumped him dry before pulling away.

Doyoung left the club with mixed feelings, reaching for his phone to drop Yuta a text announcing that he won the wager. His lips tugged when his phone rang.

"Which wager is this?" Yuta said the moment he answered.

"I told you it's not just a quick fuck. He's her type." Doyoung scoffed, focusing on the glory of being right.

"Who?" Yuta responded, making Doyoung sigh.

"(Y/N)." He shrugged.

"Oh." Yuta said, "You okay?" He added immediately, making Doyoung frown.

"Of course. You owe me a new car." Doyoung reminded Yuta, making him groan.

"Remind me never to make a bet when I'm high." He sighed. "Why do you even want a Tesla dude? It's such a banker's car."

"I'm eco-friendly." Doyoung shrugged.

Character from: Chance Encounter

Mini Masterlist

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