#His arm is tucked so awkwardly behind his back but that’s normal for him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

linos-luna · 6 months

Note

I really like your chanchang post! Can you make their reaction to the fact that the reader ran away?

Your wish is by command ✌️

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Our Doll (Pt. 2) ❣️🔪

Yandere!Chan x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Changbin

(Pt. 1) (Pt. 2) (Pt. 3)

Warnings: yandere! Kidnapping, smut, handjob, fingering, choking, noncon kissing

———————————————————————

Friends to the end right? Even when there’s a girl in the picture. How about a girl to mutually obsess over? Perhaps even better!

They were successful in kidnapping you. It’s been a few days and you were desperate to escape.

The past few days have been plagued with obsessive rants and admissions of love along with some unwanted romantic advances. They were insane. Crazy obsessed and messed in the head. How could they act like this is normal.

They called you babygirl or doll. Heck, they very much treated you like one. Changbin loved dressing you up and tucking you into bed. He was gentle except when he wasn’t. In fact, he was quite scary when mad or frustrated.

Chan, on the other hand, was more calm and collected. But it was still unsettling on how he was the mastermind here. He was a dominating personality. One look at his friend and Changbin would stop. He’d roughly manhandle you and force feed you so that you’re “healthy.”

You needed to get out. This will only get worse.

~~~~~~~

“Please, my little doll. Just let me do it~”

You shook your head as Chan wasn’t letting up on you. He wanted your consent. He wants to show you his love.

He had you pinned to the bed, kissing at your neck and to your collar bone as he rubbed you over your panties. It wasn’t something you wanted but your body didn’t care. You were getting increasingly wet.

Chan was frustrated as you kept turning your head when he tried kissing your lips.

“Stop moving.” He said sternly while putting his hand to your throat.

You only stayed still when he squeezed lightly. Tears streamed down your cheeks as he squeezed harder, indicating that he wanted you to kiss back. So you did.

“So you do love me.” Chan said with a smirk as he slowly slipped his fingers under your panties to rub your clit, only stopping when you grabbed his wrist.

“Oh darling…” he said between kisses. “I would absolutely destroy you. I’d love you so hard that you’d be begging for more…”

You had no words. Only holding in moans as he went back to rubbing the wet spot over your panties.

————————— ❣️

Often times, Changbin would be in bed with you before Chan. The older one was always up late and would join you two later.

Changbin fell asleep fairly quick, his arms hugging you from behind. Big spoon yes, but with a tight grip. You could barely move… or breathe.

“Ch-Changbin—…” you said in a loud whisper. “Changbin…”

He groaned, only slightly opening his eyes.

“I-I-… I can’t breathe…” you said awkwardly.

“I’m not letting go…” he said with a sigh while trying to sleep again.

So you had an idea.

It’s obvious that Chan is the one in charge here. He’s the more dominant person while Changbin… well he’s a follower. A submissive. Surely he’s easier to manipulate…

“B-Binnie…”

“What is it, doll?” He replied, still half asleep.

“H-how am I supposed to play with you if… if you’re holding on so tight…?”

“Play?” He whispered back.

“Mmhm… p-play with you…” you nodded while trying to feel around for his boxers. It was hard to move your arm but you managed to find the crotch of his pants. “Pleeeease~”

You had more of a loud whisper, knowing that if Chan heard anything he’d come straight in. But you stayed calm as you rubbed his twitching cock over his boxers.

You were slow and deliberate. Stroking it ever so slightly to get him worked up.

Changbin let out some low breathy moans and you could feel his grip on you loosen.

“F-fuck… y/n…” he gasped before you turned around and pulled the underwear down.

“Shhh Binnie… you don’t want Channie to hear…” you said with a smile. “Don’t you want me to yourself?”

You pumped his length faster and fondled his balls with your other hand as he fell apart. He was moaning and whining yet he still had enough thought to keep it down. Of course he didn’t want Chan to hear. This was his time.

“Y/n—… baby—…. So good—….” His breathy whines got more intense as you continued. You knew he was getting drunk on lust. He bucked his hips into your hand.

“C’mon Binnie… cum on my hand…” you said with a pout. Make a mess on me. Make a big mess!”

“Fuck fuck… fuck…” his voice was breathless as he came, throwing his head back as he tried gaining composure.

You quickly made sure to lay him on his back and kiss up his neck to his lips. He didn’t have to move a muscle as you took his hand and placed it on your breast.

“It’s okay to touch, Binnie.” You whispered softly while brushing his hair back with your fingers.

The man was exhausted. It’s been a long day and you really tired him out with that instense orgasm.

He only lightly squeezed your breasts as he was drifting off to sleep again. Your soft hums and the gentle rubbing of his hair and cheeks made him incredibly sleepy. His eyes were shut and he breathed softly, finally relaxing. It wasn’t long before he was asleep again.

This was your chance.

Quickly, you get up and make your way to the door. After quietly opening it, you peer out, looking to where Chan could be.

It was cold and you were just in a small nightgown and thigh high socks. You found yourself shivering as you cautiously stepped out.

As you take more steps out, you realize that Chan was on the couch. His laptop was on his lap and it seemed that he fell asleep while working.

Quietly, you walked past him, making it to the front door, and unlocking it when you suddenly hear a shout from behind.

“You tricked me!!”

You see Changbin standing there. He was still a distance away but you could tell he was furious. Chan woke up from his little nap and pushed his laptop off before standing.

Without another thought, you ran out.

You knew that outrunning them would be impossible, so your best bet was hiding.

“You let her out?!”

You could hear Chan yelling at the other as you hid in the bushes of a neighbor.

This bush was full of spiderwebs and pokey branches. It took everything in you not to scream when a small spider ran across your leg.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Changbin yelled back as they searched around the street. “She tricked me!”

“You’re weak!” Chan yelled back. “Now our doll is out! Cold and in danger!!”

“We’ll find her…”

“Just a dumb little doll. She needs us.” Chan sighed.

They were getting closer to where you hid and you preyed they wouldn’t get any closer.

“I failed her!” Changbin cried while covering his face. “Hyung, she’s the love of my life!”

The other friend sighed, starting to feel bad about how he yelled at at the man.

“Listen, we’ll find her. She can’t get far…”

“Y/n!!” Changbin suddenly yelled out. “Y/n!! I can’t live without you!! Y/n please!!”

“Changbin!” Chan hushed him. “You’re going to wake the neighbors!”

But at this point, the man was a mess. Screaming and yelling. It was a surprise that no neighbors came out to see the commotion.

You stayed still, truly unsettled but his desperation. You couldn’t help feeling a little bad but this was insane. He was insane. The both of them were.

“My dear, we will come back for you…” Chan said, not sure in what direction you were. Heck, for all he knew, you could’ve just left the area completely.

But Chan was determined to find you. It wasn’t too noticeable but he was just as much of a wreck, he was just better at hiding it. Putting up a strong front for the sake of his friend.

“Binnie we’ll find her in the morning…” Chan reassured while leading him back to the house. He just had to. For his sake but also Changbin’s . That’s what friends are for right?

———————————————————————

Chan took more of a back seat here. 😅

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #fanfic #stray kids #kpop smut #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids yandere #yandere changbin #yandere chan #yandere stray kids #yandere skz

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natashatraceromanoff · 5 months

Text

mine | tom riddle

Description: tom being tom

Pairings: tom riddle x fem reader

Warning/s: smut (18+ minors dni), tom being a whiny baby

Author’s Note: no plot, just another dream i had that i’m turning into a fic 😭

“Tom? Helloo?”

You walked into the empty kitchen of the castle, exactly where Tom had asked you to meet him. Your voice echoed throughout the room but your call remained unanswered. Shivers suddenly crept up to your spine, the feeling of uneasiness, the feeling that somebody was watching you filled your thoughts.

Almost as if a predator attacked its prey, you were surprised by from the hand that wrapped around your neck from behind. Your back was suddenly pressed up behind a tall, warm figure. Just exactly the person you were waiting for.

Tom roughly pushed you against the counter, his hand still wrapped around your neck. You couldn’t help but notice the cool metal of his rings grazing your skin, and how his palms were much softer in contrast to his tight grip on you. He buried his head in your hair, deeply inhaling your sweet scent. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was about to go down.

“What did I tell you, hm?” he practically growled into your ear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” you responded, almost out of breath, gathering all the strength you had to not moan at his actions.

Tom teased you. His teeth grazed against your neck, licking and sucking at your exposed skin. If it weren’t for him holding you from behind with his free hand, you would have been on the floor long gone by now. You could feel his lips move up to your ear.

“You’re mine.”

God yes you were. You still had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, why he was suddenly acting so possessive. But you didn’t care, as a matter of fact, you loved it, and all that mattered was that you knew you were his. Tom Riddle’s girl.

“Say it.” he said. You could already feel the bruises on your hips building up as he roughly, pushed you into the counter.

“I’m- I’m yours, Tommy.” you mewled.

Tom moaned at the nickname. It drove him crazy when you called him that. Tommy. He thought it was the most pathetic thing ever. But he loved it when the nickname came from your mouth.

“Can’t you see- the things you do to me?” he groaned into your ear. You moaned loudly as he pushed his hips against your ass. He was rock hard for you. You pressed yourself against him even more, wanting nothing but to feel his cock in you. His free hand moved to your stomach, trailing down to the hemline of your dress so he could bunch it up all the way up to your waist. You could feel the cool air hit your legs, your pussy practically dripping.

Before Tom could even slide your panties off you, the doors of the kitchen bursted open. He immediately separated himself from you, and quickly leaned to your side to hide your disheveled state from whoever had just entered. His head turned to the kitchen door only to see one of the house elves returning a tray of leftover muffins. The two of you awkwardly waited for the house elf to leave, Tom’s hand was gently rubbing your lower back, soothing you from your previous activities.

“So.. what was that about?” you whispered into Tom’s ear.

Tom didn’t respond. Instead, he tucked a hair behind your ear and looked at you deeply in the eyes, stepping closer to you. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve been wanting to do that all night?”

“No. What is it, Tom?”

He buried his head into your neck and groaned. You could have sworn he was whining. He said nothing and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, closing the gap between the two of you. Your arms went to his neck, teeth grazing against his earlobe.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Tom said as he heard the kitchen doors close. He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you out of the kitchen, walking a little too fast for your normal pace.

“Tom, where are we going?”

“My dorm.”

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic rec

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luvaurae · 28 days

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Simon “ghost” Riley x reader 🫶🏼

This is my first tumblr post, go easy on me 🙏 I’m not sure how it sounds or if I like it or not, sorry if there’s typos ‼️

You and Simon had been together for about 6 months now. Normally Simon was deployed and sent away to work for 3-4 months (depending on the job.) which wasn’t the best. You always had to sit in your little yet cozy apartment without his presence, and sometimes when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. When you were in the shower, he wasn’t standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. When you were in bed, he wasn’t spooning you and keeping you warm. When you cooked dinner, you had no one to serve it to except yourself. Obviously you loved him, but it was so hard to get up for your own work in the morning without him groaning and saying things like - “..five more minutes luv’ .” Or “.. jus’ call work n tell em ya sick, please dove?”. But you knew his job was important, and it helped the both of them with rent and food shopping.

———————————

As you jangled your keys into your doorknob, trying your best to shove it in as your eyes fluttered open and shut. You had just been on a six-hour shift at work and felt as if you were going to pass out every time you moved any part of your body. Eventually you managed to open up your apartment door, shutting it and locking it behind you without even turning back. You dropped your bag to the floor next to your shoe rack before making your way into bed, taking off your coat as you do so. You awkwardly rub your eyes before hopping into bed with your work t-shirt and your panties, pulling the blanket up trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. As soon as your head hits your pillow, you’re out cold. Snoring, not so quietly. You’re positive the whole of the building can hear it.

It was about 5:05pm.

You woke up to the sound of your door opening. It couldn’t be Simon, could it?.. he told you another week? He texted you and said specifically “captain said another week lovie, I’m sorry.” You shot up from your bed, not making a creak. You tiptoed into your closet, where a wooden bat had been lying against the wall (it was the one your dad gave you before you moved out.) you wrapped your hands around the handle as you opened your door, slowly yet carefully. Sweat building up within your palms, yet your grip on the bat extremely hard. You manage to tiptoe out of your room, the rest of your apartment still dark as you heard sounds coming from your kitchen. You gripped the bat with two hands before running into the kitchen and swinging it at the figures head, you told yourself you got a pretty good hit. Yet as the light from the refrigerator shines on the figure.. it was Simon. Of course it was.

———————————

“I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t know it was you.” I say shakily pressing a cold freezer pack wrapped in a cloth onto Simon’s head as he rested on our bed.

“Don’t be sorry dove. At least I know ya know how to protect ya self’” Simon’s says in his deep British accent, giving off a small chuckle at the end. I felt horrible, yet at the same time proud. And honestly it felt a little good to get him back for not having much time to spend with me.

“How come your back so early? And why didn’t you text me?” I say pulling away the ice pack from his head and placing it on my side table as I now tuck myself beside him in our bed.

“I dunno, and I knew i shou’ve but I didn’t want to disturb my Angel in er’ beauty sleep.” Simon gives another chuckle. God sometimes I had forgotten how beautiful he was. I smile at him as my head rested against the pillow, now just staring at him as I take in his features. For a moment I was in my own world, just thinking about how gorgeous he was.

“I missed you.” I say in a slightly tired and grumbled voice as I snap out of my trance and close my eyes.

“I missed you too, luv.” Simon gives me a soft peck on my shoulder before turning off the lamp and spooning me, sliding his arm underneath mine and pulling me close to him so that his warmth radiated me.

#call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley x reader

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hecateslore · 3 months

Text

💌

supervisor!Simon

some nsfw soooooo read at your own risk, as always MDNI

“Simon, I want this to go somewhere,” you admit. Simon sighs, You hold your breath for a moment. You’re love sick. Overwhelmed from all the emotions you've been feeling. You can feel the embarrassment build in your chest. He’s not gonna say anything. You know it. You sit up, Simon still looking up at the ceiling.

“Simon?” you ask, “Hm?” he hums, “Did you hear me?” Simon nods, “just thinking”. You look at him, “About what?” you ask. “About us.” He looks at you, “If you want this to go somewhere, it will.”

“Do you?” you bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for his response. “I do.” his brown eyes stay on your face. “I do too.” he chuckles at you. “You wanna be my girlfriend?” he pinches your cheek softly, teasing you. You swat his hand away, “Be serious,” you whine.

“I am.” he looks at you, with so much emotion in his eyes, “I’ll be your girlfriend.” You smile and He smiles back. “So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?” you ask.

“Guess so?” he shrugs.

You wake up Sunday morning, your clothes missing from last night's festivities. You look around your room and see Simon is gone. The only thing was his shoes, pants and shirt folded neatly in the corner of your room. You look under your blanket, trying to find the shirt you were wearing yesterday. When you find it, you slip it on. You walk towards the living room and as you get closer you can hear the sound of the tv playing.

“You waste electricity doing that.” you rasp. Simon looks up from his phone, “Good morning.” he pats the seat next to you. You sit and tuck yourself into his side, absorbing all of his warmth. Simon kisses the top of your head, “Sleep well?” You hum at his question and close your eyes, his body heat making you drowsy. “Did you?” you mumble. “I did.” he rubs your arm.

“You still seem half asleep.” he chuckles, “I am.” Simon rolls his eyes, and kisses your head again, “let’s go back to bed.” you open your eyes. Simon raises his brow, “Oh shush.” you snort.

“I didn’t say anything,”

And that’s how Simon had you bent over your bed, You moaned softly, your body arching. The sound of his thick thighs smacking the back of yours. his hands grip your hips as he pounds himself into you, You let out whines from the pleasure. Simon groans, “Oh my fucking god,” he practically sighs at the sight of his cock thrusting in and out of you.

He can hardly contain himself, His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you back against him. “Simon, Jesus christ.” you manage, He thrusts harder, and your bed frame lets out a loud creak.

“My bed! My Bed!” you exclaim, and Simon stops. “What?” his voice hoarse, “It’s gonna break.” you breathe .He pulls out, “Lay on the floor,” he orders. You crawl onto the carpet and lay on your back with Simon right behind you.His hands push your thighs apart as he positions himself between them.His cock slides inside you, and you let out a low moan.

“Stupid fucking bed,” he chuckles.

Monday, you walk into the office, giddier than normal. You walk past Simon's office and see him on his computer, The thoughts of Saturday night and Sunday morning playing in your mind. You get to your desk and do your best to calm yourself down.

Johnny walked into the office, eyes on you immediately, and you were zoned out, thinking about Simon's large body on top of yours (just like me fr!).

“Hello,” Johnny smiles. “What!” You say, snapped out of your very lewd thoughts. “I said hello.” he chuckles, “Hi.” You breathe, “You didn’t return any of my text this weekend?” he raises a brow at your behavior. “Oh um, I was with my-” You think about it for a second, “I was with my boyfriend.” You nod, a small smile making its way onto your face.

“Boyfriend?” he raises his brows in shock. “Uh yeah.” you say awkwardly, “Is that why you couldn’t answer?” Partially, half of the time you were getting your back broken in, folded like a launch chair, on the counter in the living room, not on the bed anymore, sadly.

“We were… out.” You lie. “Oh,” he nods, “What’d you guys do?” he asks, This was one of those moments you wished Simon would interrupt rudely. “We went out, you know, ate and stuff?” You try your best. “Sounds like fun.”

“It was A LOT of fun!” Your eye almost twitches at the Image of a shirtless simon popping up in your brain. He only nods, “talk to you later?” you give him a thumbs up, and he walks to his desk. Simon’s door opens and he walks over to your desk.

“Hi.” he says, bending by your chair, almost eye level to you. “Hello.” You smile. “Whatcha been up to-” you start but are immediately interrupted by Linda, “I overheard that you have a boyfriend?” She chirps, Simon raises his brows and looks at her, “Well isn’t that news?” he says sarcastically, and you glare at him. “Who told you?” you say, masking your annoyance with a smile, “Well I heard you and Johnny but I just had to see for myself,” she explains, “Oh wow” you say sarcastically–the smile still plastered on your face.

Simon stands to his full height and lets out a gleeful chuckle and walks back into his office.

It was tuesday night you got off work and zoomed home, got in the shower and waited for simon to come over. You told him to bring an overnight bag so he could spend the night, he said he would think about it.

By the time you got out of the shower, Simon texted he was 5 minutes away from your house. You got your plates ready while you stood in the kitchen drinking your leftover snapple that Simon bought you earlier in the day.

He knocks on the door three times and you walk over to open the door, First thing you notice is the overnight bag in his hand. You smile, “So we’re having a sleepover.” You tease. “Move it,” he grins, walking past you into your apartment. He takes his shoes off and puts them on the rack and walks to where you're standing, going in for a kiss.

“I made food.” you break, “that’s nice,” he gives you peck, “I’m hungry, Simon.” he pecks your lips again, “Me too.” he says between kisses,“We can’t.” you pull away, “My bed.” you frown.

“We’ll just do it on the floor.” he shrugs and wraps his arm around your waist, lifting you off the floor and taking you to your room.

“I’m not having sex on the floor anymore.” you whine walking out of your room. Your ass is raw from it rubbing on the carpet. Simon’s knees were red, from the friction. Simon snorts at you rubbing your own butt. “You’ll be okay.” he hooks his arm around your neck kissing the crown of your head.

“I need to get a new bed frame,” you say, grabbing two plates from your cabinet. “Yeah, My knees can only take so much.” Simon comments, taking the plate that sat on top of yours.

When you both finish eating you guys go back to your room to lay down. “I need to shower.” you remind yourself, “Me too.” Simon sighs. It was quiet for a moment,

“No.” You warn. Simon throws his hands up defensively.

You both get out of the shower and put your pajamas on, You complained for the last 15 minutes because you two wasted all the warm water. Simon sighs as he lays down gently. The softness of the bed (also you two fucking like rabbits!) and the shower makes him drowsy.

His eyes follow you around the room, watching you move things around and find some pajama pants. When you get settled you open your Ipad and do your crossword of the day.

“You’re an old lady.” he mumbles. “I’m sorry?” you say and look at a very sleepy Simon, “You’re routines like an old lady’s” he chuckles to himself. You flick his forehead, “You’re like 43, go to sleep.” Simon laughs to himself and then flips on his stomach, to which you scold him for jumping around.

During Wednesday's lunch you sat outside by yourself listening to music, You were eating your sandwich and watching people walk around. You could feel eyes on you, when you look up you see Johnny walking out of the supermarket with his eyes trained on you.

“What are you doing by yourself?” he asks, placing his things right next to yours, “Lunch.” you nod, “Want some company?” he smiles, him asking didn’t make a difference when he sat his things down. “Make yourself comfortable.” You sigh.

“So who’s the new guy?” he asks, trying to be funny, “Excuse me?” you asked confused, “You’re boyfriend,” he explains. “Oh, uhm, just some guy.” you shrug, trying to avoid his questions.

“Some guy huh?” he snorts, “Some guy.” you repeat. “Does Simon know?” he looks at you, “Does it matter if Simon knows?” You ask, narrowing your eyes slightly, “Well I mean you and Him are friends,” He claimed. “We talked about it briefly.” you lie.

“I bet he was furious.” he snickers, “He wasn’t,” You watch him, “He was happy for me, actually.” you comment. “Really?” he meets your gaze, “Yeah,” you nod.

“It’s because he likes you,” He jokes, “I bet he does.” you roll your eyes.

“What are you doing on friday?” you ask standing in the kitchen with your phone on speaker, “Uh dunno.” Simon says on the other line, “Do you want to go to bed-frame looking with me?”

“After work?” He asks, “After work.” You confirm, stirring the tomato soup. “Sounds good.” he says, “You want to stay at my place after?” He suggests, “Ooh, I get to stay at your place.” you tease. “Yes or no?” you can hear the eye roll in his voice. “Obviously yes.”

“That one’s nice.” he points, You look at the tag on, “Not for that much,” You show him the tag, “jesus christ.” he cringes, “What about that one?”

“That's cute,” you say flipping over the tag, just five dollars above the budget. “Would you go five dollars over your budget?” You look at Simon who was opening the nightstands, “No.” he says, You sigh, “It’s only five dollars though,” you whine.

You two spend another hour looking at bed frames and walk out of the door unsuccessful. No bed frame, just a budget.

“I’m gonna get that bed frame.” You say as you buckle your seatbelt, “Just look online” Simon adjusts your rearview mirror, “Your car is a trip.” he thinks aloud, “Foot on the brake and then press.”

“You buy a frame online and I’ll build it for you.”

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#supervisor!simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon riley cod #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod

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toiletwipes · 1 year

Text

because we're friends | simpbur

~2.4k words / i tried my best to make it gender neutral reader but if there's any mistakes, feel free to let me know. [after hanging out with a friend and getting caught in the rain, simpbur takes his friend to his apartment to stay for the night. and he can't be normal and his friend knows.] 18+, minors do not interact.

You were just staying the night, for the night only. It’s pouring and you both walked here and both of you are broke idiots, he chants inside of his head, whatever could happen won’t happen. To take advantage of you while you’re helpless and with a dead phone? The temptation is there, his fingers twitch in his lap, the two of you sitting across from each other on his discounted couch.

You were just a friend who was just staying the night. Just that.

And yet, his mind runs from him. Because watching you watch some random movie, the flashing lights on your face only highlights what he likes seeing. Likes the dips and curves of your face, the way your eyelashes bat at him when you beg him to buy you something at the store. The way you pout at him. Fuck. He can’t stop looking at your mouth now. His mind runs from him and he can’t stop imagining you with spit-slick lips, bruised lips, lips wrapped around-

“-rything alright there, Wilby?” And the fucking nickname, his face burns. He lets out a low hum, focusing back on reality, looking you in the eyes. You’re not that concerned, only noticed his staring just now, most likely not aware how long he has been. (The answer being the entire time you’ve been watching your show.)

“Good. Just thinking.” Mhm, thinking he is, alright. But you smile, nodding and looking back to the screen, wiggling in your seat as you get comfortable. You send him a look as you stuff your feet underneath his legs. They’re cold, he notices and he can’t handle the effect you have on him. Fuck’s sake, your feet are only underneath his legs, but you’re touching him. Willingly, and willingly leaving yourself vulnerable. In no less than a second could he pin you down and work his fingers inside you, bruise your lips anyway he’d like. Because you trust him.

Both his fingers and his dick twitches.

And because you trust him, you end up scooting closer to him and his chest heaves with impure thoughts and desires. You don’t notice though. Switching the way you’re seated leaves you leaning against his side, with his arm tucked awkwardly behind you. But even then, you hum to yourself before reaching behind and pulling on his hand, wrapping it around your waist. His fingers graze uncovered skin by your stomach. He nearly jerks back before he forces himself to relax.

And his mind races. This position you’ve put yourself in. Tucking yourself into his side and wrapping yourself in him, letting him touch your bare skin. His heart pounds inside of his chest and he almost hopes you can feel him sporting a boner. He wants to shove his hand down your pants, up your shirt, in your mouth, fuck, the options were endless. More than anything, he wanted to push your face into the couch cushion and fuck you till you begged him to stop. And so again, his fingers twitch and you jerk away, giggling. “Sorry,” he mumbles, already pulling his hand away.

You shake your head, pulling on his hand again and even pushing it onto more uncovered skin, pushing your shirt up a little more. “I’m just ticklish.” And you twist your face a little just to smile at him.

He had so many questions, they’re just threatening to spill out of his mouth and fumble the wording and fuck everything up. But most of them are lewd and unbecoming of the friendship you’ve allowed him. Still, his fingers twitch and this time you relax as he flexes them, flattening them against your skin.

His own skin feels aflame, sensitive to every movement you make and he can’t even tell what the show was about. What they’re saying, who they are, they’re all lost to him.

And he misses a question. “Sorry, I spaced out- what did you say?” He tries to be casual but your next words send a shock through his veins.

“I’m not even surprised, I said, Wilbur- are you gonna keep staring at me or are you going to do something about it?” And his bones turn into stone, everything about him freezes and he can’t move. As if he had ice in his system and not blood.

“What can- what can I do?” His breathing starts again but it’s heavy, his head light from the lack of breathing and blood flow. Unknowingly, his hand presses harder against your skin.

“You mean besides killing me?” You laugh but his mind moves ahead of him, even thinking of that too. His dick jumps at the thought of you, bleeding, staring at him. And he pushes it away, no, no he wouldn’t. Not when you’ve just given him explicit permission to- to-

Fucking hell.

Shifting in his seat, he keeps his hand on your skin, relishes it more now. But his other hand moves to wrap around your middle too, pulling you into his chest. “So I can- you’ll let me-” he cuts himself off as he presses into your back, feeling the full force of your soap hit him. The lotion you’ve told him about. He presses his nose and mouth hard against the skin between your shoulder and neck, breathing and moaning as he breathes out. Months of pining, months of looking at you, months of jerking off to you, months of wet dreams and months of pushing all of that away-

He can stop pushing the thoughts away, indulge in them a little. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” He asks, one hand pressing on your stomach and the other slipping up to your chest, the fabric of your shirt hardly holds him back.

“This being?” Your voice hitches as his fingers graze your nipple, pinching, pulling, flicking.

“Touching you.” And his hand comes up to wrap around your throat, not so much squeezing as much as it’s just touching. Your skin is just so fucking soft. And it smells good. He can’t ever imagine being anywhere else anymore. And just as fast as he wrapped his hand around your throat, it slithers back down, both hands coming up to grope your chest, mouth moving as he licks the light sweat on your skin. Why you would wear a sweater to his apartment when there’s no air conditioning, is behind him, but it only serves him. He moans at the taste of salt, of sweat. Licks your skin in small circles, loving the taste of you.

Nudging your head to the side, he loves the way your chest heaves, the way soft whines and pants come out of you, loves to tweak the buds in between his knuckles and sucking at your neck, biting and kissing and moaning at the sounds that come out because of him.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, and he doesn't mean to, almost regrets it because wouldn’t that be a thought, to surprise you when he pulls your shorts down and shoves his cock inside of you. Oh, it’s so good, his dick jumps and he presses his body more into your back, nearly toppling the two of you over, and this way you can feel his dick against your back.

“Can you last that long?” Probably not but the way you tease him, it has him groaning against your wet skin, smelling so much like his spit.

“Don’t need to,” he mumbles, licking his way back up your neck and pressing closer, leans further to lick the skin of your jaw. Your head tilts back into his shoulder so nicely, he just has to suck a bruise into the skin there. And when he shoves his hand into your sweats, your mouth drops open and your eyes blink several times but they stay dilated.

“Wilb- fuck, Wilbur,” you whine as your hand reaches behind you, knocking his beanie off of his head and tugging on his hair. His mouth comes off of your skin as he moans, his hips jerking and rocking into your back. “If you keep touching me like that, I won’t- fuck, fuck, fuck.” He didn't care what the end of that sentence was going to be, he needed to hear what you sound like when you come. When he makes you come.

“Just like that, baby,” he mumbles, unable to close his eyes, pushing past the burning in his wrist as you whine right into his ear, your hips twitching and jerking on their own too as you make a mess over his fingers, his hand. You would’ve fallen face first into the cushion if he wasn’t holding you so close to him. “Just like that.”

The hand with you all over it goes right up to his mouth, licking every groove of his skin that’s covered in come, licking it all away and moaning at the taste. (The sight of which makes your insides burn, however boneless you are.)

In the next minute, he’s wiping the spit off of his hand on his own sweats, tugging at your sweater, which you take off gladly, and he shoves his hand between your body and your sweats, shoving them down. He feels your body shiver, bumps rising on your skin but all he feels is the intense burning of want, of need. He needs to be inside you right now, it drives him crazy.

“I’m so- so fucking close right now, I need you to tell me where I can come.” It’s like pulling teeth, speaking those words. You said anything, and fuck, maybe he might ignore whatever answer you have and come inside. His dick is so hard, he needs to be inside of you. He’s losing his fucking mind.

It’s as if you can hear his thoughts, or maybe he’s just saying them as they come, it doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is the grip tightening around his hair and you breathing out the word inside. The fucking butterflies he just felt. Fuck.

Shoving his pants down enough to pull his dick out, he smears pre-cum between your legs, your thighs, thrusting between them and the both of you moaning, it’s fucking bliss.

The moment he slips inside of you- he curses, you’re squeezing so tight around his cock, his mind blanks and he can only squeeze an arm around your stomach, the other one is squeezing the meat of your thigh, trying anything to hold back from blowing his load so fast when he just got his dick inside. “Fuck, f- I need a second,” and you’re breathlessly agreeing, squeezing his forearm, tugging his hair, whimpering in his ear. It’s almost too much entirely.

The pleasure doesn’t die down, but he manages to breathe through it, focusing on kissing your sweaty skin. And after a brief moment, you let go of his arm to pat it, asking if he’d be able to move now, leaning all of your weight onto him.

The first thrust out blinds him, pushing back in punches the breath out of his lungs. The way you’re breathing, sounds like you’re just as affected as him. He hopes, in a distant thought, that this wouldn’t be a one-time thing. Hopes that by the end of this, when the two of you are spent and exhausted and filthy, you’ll let him touch you again.

Minutes go by after slow jerks of his hips and then you whine, asking if he could go faster and fuck if his hips didn’t snap and the sound of skin smacking against skin, it’s enough to make the both of you groan. Fucking you, on his couch by the way, is the main wet dream. And the fact it’s happening right now? He’d come right then and there if he hadn’t worked so hard to come down from just that. Setting a much faster, a bit brutal pace, he’s hurtling towards his orgasm quickly, he can feel it.

“Let go of my hair,” he gasps, and as soon as you do, accidentally letting go of his forearm, he pushes on your shoulder and back, adjusting as needed as he works up to what he wanted to do earlier. Pressing your face into the cushion and fucking you like he’d die if he stopped. Your moans shift into sobs when he reaches around your front, burning at both ends.

And in a moment, in a flash, he squeezes your hip and leans over you, groaning as he spills come inside of you. He gives a few shallow thrusts, moaning over and over. And he stays there for a second, softening as he pulls out but groans anyways, the sight of his come spilling out of your hole? He acts without thinking, pushing two fingers to keep them in and your cries pull him out of his fuzzy head.

“Are you feeling okay?” He hums your name, pulling out his fingers and rubbing over your skin. Covering it in filth. His heart only pounds harder, he gets up from behind you, letting you lay on the couch. Fuck, seeing your hazy eyes, seeing you in a space he put you in from fucking you alone? He tries his best, grabs the blanket he’d tossed on the back of the couch and wipes you down, stomping the bubbling feeling of something good in his chest as you whine from the touch. “Here, let me take you to bed,” dropping the blanket, he tries his best to help you up before biting his lip and picking you up, hurrying to his room as quickly as possible. He wasn’t the strongest guy out there, and if he dropped you in his attempt to help? When he fucked you- and didn’t that give him butterflies to think about, fucking you hard enough your legs are jelly.

It doesn’t take long for you to come down, wherever you went, and by then, you’re ready to sleep. He thought about tucking you in, because what sight that would be, but the thought of waking up to you in the morning? Maybe fucking you in your sleep if he woke up, hell, you fucking him awake, riding him and using him like he used you? It makes him bite down on his lip to hold back a moan as he slips into bed behind you. And it melts his insides whenever you shift to turn in your sleep, tucking yourself into his chest. Sighing deeply.

He’s so far gone on you.

#simpbur #c: simpbur #eggplicit #c: simpbur smut #simpbur smut #simpbur x reader #simpbur x you #simpbur x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #minors do not interact #minors dni #k: free use #<- sorta #a: neutral

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leorawright · 1 year

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This was hard to word, but can you do one where the friend is really nervous about physical contact, but like that they suddently hug or hold the characters hand during a nervous experience and needing comfort or stuff like that and what the charcaters reaction would be like to the readers fist time being comfortable enough to show that physical affection ^^

Romantic/Queerplatonic : Reaper, Lucio, Junkrat, Roadhog, Doomfist, Reinhardt, Zenyatta, Genji, Hanzo

Platonic: Brigitte and Sigma

I understand but that does exceed my character limit so I might have to skip a few people

Overwatch's reaction to s/o, who doesn't like affection, hugging them

Reaper

He freezes when he feels someone grab onto his side and he's ready to tell off whoever it is before he spots you

He can't say anything as he just stares at you before awkwardly relaxing

Inside he's in turmoil because you're actually hugging him

If you try to leave because you think you're making him uncomfortable he'll pull you back if you're okay with it

Lucio

When you hug him he's shaking from happiness and his smile is huge

He loves physical touch so seeing that you're okay with physical touch now makes him super happy

Of course he still makes sure it's okay for him to hug/kiss you

Even if it's just hand holding it makes Lucio super happy

Junkrat

When he spots you hugging him he excitedly squeals before picking you up slightly when he hugs you back

He does quickly set you down and shyly apologize for getting over excited

But if you assure him it's okay and keep hugging him he's going to burst from happiness

He's even more excited if you say that you two can cuddle for once

Roadhog

When he sees you he's too nervous to say anything because he doesn't want to scare you off

So he'll just tuck one arm behind your back and let is rest on your shoulders and leave it at that

If you don't stop hugging him he's smiling under his mask

He's really glad you're comfortable enough to hug him now

Reinhardt

He's as excited as Junkrat but he has a little more self control

So he just hugs you back with a big smile

When you loosen your hold Reinhardt leans back as to not make you uncomfortable

But still even one hug from you is a huge step and he's super excited for you

Zenyatta

Without a second thought he hugs you back

He doesn't ask why you're hugging him he just enjoys the moment

Afterward, he'll ask if this means you're okay with physical touch or if you're still working on it

If you are okay with it expect for him to be holding your hand almost constantly

Genji

He hugs you back but is careful to not hug you too tightly

You can also practically feel the happiness radiating off of him from your hug

After double-checking that you're now comfortable with physical touch he almost always greets you with a hug now

Hanzo

He, like Reaper, freezes when he sees you hugging him but he's frozen because he's touch starved

The second he accepts that you're hugging him and he hugs you back you can practically feel him melt into you

He never wants this hug to end but out of fear of making you uncomfortable he lets go

But if you start giving him more hugs he's on cloud nine

Brigitte (platonic)

She's a very lovey friend in the first place so when you are comfortable with physical touch she's estatic

She especially loves receiving hugs from you

And if you're comfortable with it you're getting a hug everytime she sees you as a 'hello' and as a 'goodbye'

Sigma (platonic)

He's super surprised you're hugging him but he's definitely not complaining

He reaches down and reciprocates your hug with a smile

He doesn't receive hugs from friends that often since from Sombra he normally receives a fistbump or such

So you being comfortable hugging him makes him feel like he's reached the ultimate friendship level with you

#overwatch x reader #reaper x reader #lucio x reader #junkrat x reader #roadhog x reader #reinhardt x reader #zenyatta x reader #genji x reader #hanzo x reader #brigitte x reader #sigma x reader #platonic

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jasonsmirrorball · 4 months

Text

take me in, can't you see the shape i'm in? [563]

your bed is too uncomfortable to sleep in, so you go next door. gn!reader, roommate!au, sfw, sleeplessness/insomnia, descriptions of sensory discomfort

It's well past midnight and your eyes burn, weighed down by fatigue but sleep remains out of your reach, dancing close enough like a lure before jerking away cruelly. It's been a week of late nights and when you'd gotten home feeling as though you were two seconds from crashing into the couch, coordination skewed and limbs moving awkwardly, you'd thought, relieved, that it had finally caught up to you and you might get to sleep at a normal hour.

That had been six hours ago, and the darkness converges over your head in a grey-black cover, almost taunting you. Everything feels wrong tonight, your light sensitivity dialled up that even the sliver of light creeping through the crack under your bedroom door bores through your closed lids. The sounds of the city outside seem especially loud tonight, and the mattress under your back is just...wrong.

You clap your hands over your eyes frustratedly, near tears.

The murmur of a voice through your bedroom wall piques your attention, and you pause.

Jason hadn't batted an eyelid when you'd brushed past him upon getting home and gone straight to bed. You'd been thankful at the time, sure you would rip his head off if he'd so much as breathed in your direction.

You push yourself out of bed unthinkingly, water bottle tucked under your arm and make your way out of the room. The hallway light, bright orange and beginning to flicker – you'd get Jason to change it later – floods your vision as you open the door and you wince, reaching for the switch to flick it off.

You tap on Jason's door lightly, and the sounds of his game pause before he answers. He's sitting at the foot of his bed when you open his door, and he raises his brows at you.

"Didn't you go to bed?"

"Can't sleep," you grumble miserably, moving further into the room and shutting the door behind you.

"Was I being too loud? Sorry." You shake your head and he grimaces sympathetically, nose screwing up. "Y'know, I still think it's weird you're such a light sleeper."

"Screw you," you mutter tonelessly, sitting on his bed. "Not all of us can sleep through an earthquake."

"I'm not that bad," he argues, and then to the person on the other end of his mic, "Shut up, man, you're one to talk."

"Who–" you yawn, a big one that brings tears to your eyes. Curling up on his bed, you push his duvet with your foot so you can slip a leg under it. "Who's that?"

"None of your business. Go to sleep," he mutters but you've already begun to doze off, slumping against the pillows, too tired to even lift your bottle from your side. It remains there when your breaths even out, steady even as Jason continues to talk to his friend, even as the light from the television screen reflects onto your face.

When he calls it a night and stands up half an hour later, he smothers a grin at the sight of you asleep in his bed. You're dead to the world, limbs thrown out over his mattress uncaring, and he nudges you gently to make space, plucking your bottle and setting it on the floor before climbing into bed himself.

"Night, dumbass," he murmurs. As if in response, you sigh in your sleep.

writing this with tears in my eyes because i fell asleep at a normal time for the first time in weeks and woke up a few hours later and can't go back to sleep even though i am literally so tired :D anyway dreaming about climbing into roomie jason's bed and sleeping in there. i just think it's so nice and cold in his room and his quilt is so fluffy and his bed is warm even though he would argue that your room is way better (it is but his bed is just so comfortable) like you are conking out the moment you get in there!

#jasonsmirrorball #jay my heart #roommate!jason #jason todd x reader

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readychilledwine · 5 months

Text

Happier Than Ever

Summary- Lucien finds himself in familiar arms, After Elain rejects the bond (Lucien x Spring Court reader)

Warnings - sad Lucien, angst, a tamlin appearance, friends to lovers-ish

You had never seen Lucien this defeated. He sighed heavily again, forehead pressed into his knees and silent sniffles falling from him.

She had destroyed him. Completely and utterly destroyed him. You moved to sit next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him against you. “It's okay to cry, Lu.” He wrapped an arm around you, burying his head in your neck and hair.

“I don't understand,” he cried softly. “I never pushed. I never begged. I never forced anything. I gave her space.”

“I know,” You ran a hand through his long hair. “I know, Lu.”

It could have been hours, days, weeks. You and Lucien stayed in that spot until he cried himself to sleep, head resting on the chest, body weight pressing you into your couch further.

You vowed then never to let your friend feel this way again, at all costs.

It took a month for Lucien to return to a more normal sense of himself. He had begun helping around your small home, hunting his familiar spots in the forest to find himself again, and would even tease you with his sharp tongue. He had even asked Tamlin to come tonight, hoping the three of you could maybe fall into a sense of peace you all had not found since before Amarantha.

You set the table, watching as Lucien held a warm cup of coffee, freshly bathed and changed into a button-down tunic and some softer pants. “Whatever you made smells delightful. As it always does. The worst thing Tamlin ever did in the manor was hire kitchen staff instead of you cooking for us every day." You watched as his smile grew as a familiar beast approached before shifting. “Let's see how quickly he threatens to kill me, or tries to seduce you, shall we?"

You shook your head, laughing as they greeted each other awkwardly. You knew there was anger there, hurt from both of them, but understanding deep down.

Tamlin made choices because he was in love.

Lucien made choices because he had found his mate.

Choices that had led to pain for both of them, choices that held a sense of loss for both of them.

Tamlin moved to you, kissing your head softly. "Missed you," he tucked a hair behind your ear.

"Missed you too," you nodded them towards the table. "I made your favorites." You placed the elk steaks in front of Tamlin and Lucien, seeing them both smile at the familiar spread.

“Thank you, little rose,” Tamlin kissed your hand. “I have missed your cooking. I will be honest.” You just smiled, watching Lucien pick at the food. “Lucien, is something wrong?” The male perked up, mask snapping back in place, and you and Tamlin could only just share a look.

"Just thought my next fancy meal would be made by her," his voice trailed off. He stared out the window for a second before coming back to you and Tamlin. "Did you hear about the last match?" He looked at Tamlin with a small smirk.

"Your team is full of cheats and liars," Tamlin muttered.

By the 3rd month in your home, Lucien seemed to have fully healed as he twirled you around in the meadow. You two had taken the rare day off from helping repair Spring to enjoy each other's company.

You had packed a picnic basket of cheeses and fruits as well as some wines and set out for the meadow you two used to frequent On days off from the manor by late morning.

Lucien had been all smiles and gentle touches the past few days, leaning in closer to you, flirting with you and flushing when you'd flirt back. It was as if you had fallen back into a routine you two hadn't felt in years. One that often led to Tamlin feeling like a third wheel and vocally mentioning it.

You two laid in the flowers, laughing so hard you began to snort lightly. Lucien just smiled, staring at you and then sighed. “This is the happiest day I've had in several years,” he reached his hand for yours, lacing your fingers together.

“I'm glad you are happy, Lucien.” He pulled on your hand, forcing you on top of him, free hand resting on his chest as your hair blocked the rest of the world from how close your faces were.

He glanced at you again, smiling as his other hand came your hip and rested there. "I should have never left you," it was a soft confession hanging in the air, waiting for your response. "It was always meant to be you, y/n. I'm sorry I was too blind to see that."

You shook your head, then rested your forehead against his. "You needed answers. I understood. I still do."

His eyes fluttered shut, a soft sigh of content leaving his mouth. "You are why I am happy, butterfly. You made me want to be better. You made me want to be the male you deserve."

The distance between you two was closing more and more, lips practically brushing with each syllable passed between you two.

"Lucien?"

"Y/n?"

"Are you going to kiss me yet?"

He chuckled, hand on your hip, moving to the back of your neck. "Of course."

He met your lips gently, savoring you, savoring this. It was like a sense of completion washing over both of you like a gentle rain.

There was no Elain.

No heartache.

No pain.

Just you and Lucien.

Lucien and you.

And the thought of that made you two happier than ever.

#acotar #acotar x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x y/n #lucien x you #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x you

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zoeykallus · 1 year

Note

hello!! how are you doing? <3

I was wondering for Some HC of reader wearing the bad batch’s armor and how they would react.

Aloha! 🤔😅 uhm, okay, let me try something!

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Whose armor is this, anyway?

Fluffy/Funny(I guess)/Slightly Suggestive in parts

____________________

What's going on: Your Batcher is taking a shower and has left the armor plates of his equipment in your room. Feeling a bit silly today, you decide to have some fun with it and try some on. You forget the time and get caught by your beloved clone when he comes back from the shower.

____________________

Hunter

You can't help yourself, as soon as the bathroom door closes behind Hunter, your fingers curiously roam over the equipment he has taken off, feeling scratches, dents and burn marks. This armor could probably tell quite a few stories. You try on the helmet, it doesn't fit right, it's a little too big, but not too much. You see the handle of his knife peeking out of the armor plate he normally wears on his arm and reach for it. The vibro knife is intriguing, looks sharp and dangerous. You've seen Hunter wield it a few times and admired it. You twirl the knife around a bit randomly, and for a moment you feel really cool, until you hear Hunter clear his throat. You drop the knife, shocked, and let out a small startled yelp. The knife sticks tip-first in the hardwood floor, definitely a sharp blade. You feel your face getting hot and are glad you have his helmet on, at the moment you are ashamed of yourself. Hunter smirks at you with a half-suppressed grin. He looks gorgeous as always, and you feel like an idiot with his helmet on your head and his knife stuck in the floor next to your feet. "Do you admire me so much that you're already imitating me?" he asks, amused, pulling a shirt over his gorgeous torso and tying his still-damp hair back with his bandana. He bends down for the knife and pulls it out of the wood, tucking it back into the armor plate he normally has on his arm. "You shouldn't mess with that, you might hurt yourself," he says with gentle rebuke when you don't answer him right away. "Sorry," you say meekly, "Couldn't resist. Can you take your shirt off again?" Hunter pauses, then laughs, "What, you want to put on my shirts now too?" You shrug and say perkily, "Maybe in the morning, but mostly I just want to see your upper body naked." His smirk turns salacious. "So you want me to stay the night for the first time?"

You suddenly feel terribly hot under the helmet, but you nod. He takes off his shirt again, as you asked him to, then he comes closer and puts his hands on your hips. "Aren't you going to take the helmet off again?" he asks with raised eyebrows. "No, not yet," you say hurriedly, "It's cozy in here." Hunter laughs softly and says, "Honey, I know your pulse is racing, and you're all hot, I don't need to see your face, there is no point in hiding".

Wrecker

The man is huge, and so is his equipment. The helmet is way too big, even the chest plate you throw over yourself looks ridiculously huge on you. You look at yourself in the mirror and grin under Wrecker's helmet, it looks incredibly funny.

You realize anew how stark the physical difference is between the two of you. You also try out the gloves, but soon put them away again, because they are so big that they constantly slip.

You pose in front of the large mirror that hangs on the bedroom closet and giggle quietly to yourself.

Suddenly, you hear rumbling laughter and turn around, startled. Wrecker is standing in the doorway in his shirt and boxers, a towel at the back of his neck. For a moment your gaze hangs admiringly on his leg muscles, especially his thighs, and a soft, "Damn," passes your lips.

"What are you up to?" he asks, amused.

You laugh a little awkwardly and say, "Gettin' ready for battle."

Smiling, he says, "Then maybe you should find some armor that fits you first."

You reach for one of the many pillows on your bed and say, "It should do for this one," and throw the pillow at him.

You hit Wrecker right in the chest, who holds the pillow in confusion for the first moment. But then he realizes.

"Pillow fight!" he exclaims happily, lunging and throwing it.

He underestimates his strength and knocks you off your feet with his hit. You tumble backwards, and if it weren't for the helmet, your head would have collided directly with the dresser.

Wrecker raises his hands in fright.

"Maker!" he exclaims, "Sweetie, are you okay? I didn't mean to do that!"

He rushes to your side and pulls you back to your feet with ease.

"Wow!", you exclaim laughing, "Even with a pillow you can knock one out".

"Are you hurt?" he asks meekly.

You shake your head laughing.

"No, Wrecker, I'm fine! Your helmet protected me, like I said, ready for battle".

He carefully takes off your helmet and still checks your head for wounds. Patiently, you let him check. Finally, he kisses your cheek and mumbles an apology again. His huge hands hold your face for a moment. He still looks worried, but when you smile at him, he can't help but return the smile.

Echo

Normally, Echo showers in the barracks before coming to you. However, he came back from training quite late today and doesn't want to lose any time. So he comes straight to your house and quickly slips into your bathroom to shower off while you open a bottle of wine for you.

Your eyes fall on the bedspread on your bed, where Echo has neatly laid down his gear. Curious, you move closer. At first, only your gaze wanders over the pieces of armor, then your fingertips.

Biting your lower lip thoughtfully, you finally take the pieces in your hands one by one and look at them more closely. It's surprisingly clean and well cared for, but there are a few marks and scratches that Echo can't hide in his armor maintenance.

You wonder how many times the helmet might have saved his life, turning it over in your hands. Your eyes fall on the bathroom door, you move closer and listen with your ear to the door. The water of the shower is still running.

His helmet doesn't fit you because of the cutout. But you spot the gun belt and his Kama. Clad only in an extra-long shirt, in your underwear, you slip both on. The radio is on in the background, and you dance around your bedroom with it, swinging your hips to move the Kama like a skirt.

Then during one of your turns, you almost fall over in shock. Echo stands there, leaning casually in the doorway, arms folded in front of his chest, a smirk on his face.

When you stop and stare at him with a heated face, he says, "Looks good on you, looks cute, but the outfit is not suitable for combat, at least not in this half-naked combination. But it's definitely an eye-catcher."

"Sorry," you stammer and hastily try to take the belt off again, but it's stuck.

Echo chuckles softly and comes over to you, helping you take the belt off again, placing it on your dresser next to him. His hand gently grips your chin, his lips resting warmly, softly on yours. He gives you a languid, tender, long kiss that makes your knees go weak.

When he pulls away from the kiss, his hand is still on your chin, and he asks, "So, beautiful, what's the plan for tonight, besides dancing in my Kama?"

With heated cheeks you smile at him, you have quite a few ideas.

Crosshair

He always takes ages in the bathroom, you don't even know exactly why, you've never asked him. Crosshair has been in the shower for quite a while when your eyes fall on his equipment lying neatly on your bedroom chair next to your bed.

Cautiously, you glance toward the bathroom door. You're not sure how he'll react when you go to his equipment. Curious, you pick up the helmet and put it on. It fits surprisingly well, is almost a little tight. You browse through the other pieces of gear and aren't exactly surprised at how neat they all are. Crosshair is a pretty neat person.

Then your eyes fall on his rifle, the Firepunsher, leaning upright against your bedroom closet. Again your eyes fall on the bathroom door. You hesitate, but finally you approach the gun and carefully run your fingers over it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You jump up hastily, letting out a small startled yelp. It felt like a second ago the bathroom door was closed, but now it's open and Crosshair is standing in the doorway, one of your towels wrapped around his hips, bare-chested.

"I was curious," you say, still a little breathless with shock.

It's not until he comes over to you, grabs your head with both hands, and pulls off the helmet that you realize you still have it on.

Crosshair puts the helmet back with the other things and says sternly, "This is not a toy. My armor is one thing, but my rifle is not for untrained people."

"I know, sorry. I just wanted to look at it"

"Looking is something you do with your eyes, not your fingers" he growls.

"Sorry, please don't be mad"

"You could have gotten hurt" he says with a sigh.

"I know," you say meekly.

No matter how scared or ashamed you just were, his appearance distracts you, practically naked, clad only in a towel at his hips.

Crosshair smirks as he notices your covetous gaze.

"Now," he says in his smoky voice, "Why don't you slip out of your clothes, hop up on the bed, and we'll talk about it."

Heat rises in your cheeks, you don't even think about it but start undressing right away.

Tech

His things are spread across your bedroom. As always, he has a thousand things to say when he comes in and while he walks through your bedroom and takes off his equipment to get ready for the shower, he leaves the individual parts lying where he just walks and stands, lost in thought.

You watch him with amusement, trying to follow his rambling as best you can, picking up the pieces of equipment and placing them all neatly on your dresser. When he finally disappears into the bathroom, your eyes fall on his equipment again.

You take his helmet, pull it on and flip down the visor. The integrated computer comes to life and a bunch of numbers and options pop up in your field of vision.

"Wow, so that's what it looks like"

Next, you put on the gun belt and the tool belt. Both are surprisingly heavy.

"How can he walk around with that all day, no wonder he has such a slouch" you mutter to yourself and look at yourself in the mirror.

You admire yourself for a while, turning back and forth.

"May I ask what you're doing?"

Tech's voice makes you spin around, startled.

"Um, well, you left your gear criss-crossed, and I was cleaning up," you say evasively.

He stands there in boxer shorts and shirt, rubbing his hair dry, and asks with an amused undertone as he takes the towel down, "And you had to put parts on to do that?"

You flip up your visor and roll your eyes.

"Okay, I was curious, I wanted to see what it felt like".

A barely noticeable smirk is on his lips.

"So, how does it feel to you?"

"Unexpectedly heavy," you admit.

Tech nods and says, "I guess that's true, I'm lugging around a lot of tools."

He puts the towel in the bathroom bucket and comes back into the bedroom, he gently takes the helmet off your head and pulls the straps off.

"As cute as this may look, my equipment is not a toy, honey".

"Hmm, okay," you say meekly, watching as he puts the gear back on the dresser with the others.

He's got the thought, the words down, you haven't been intimate with each other yet, other than a few chaste kisses and careful cuddles. But you've been together for a while, actually very familiar by now, and he wants more too, but he's having a hard time coming out of his shell. When he looks at you again, a soft blush creeps into his cheeks as he asks, "Should I get fully dressed, or maybe we'll spend the evening… cuddling?"

You smile softly and say tenderly, "Cuddling sounds great, Tech."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@starwarsnerd111

348 notes · View notes

not-that-dillinger · 2 months

Note

(Combining: GUEST : for one muse to offer the other a place to stay. STORM : for both muses to find shelter from a severe storm. Same universe as prev Ed and Sam rp?)

Sam had been tucked away in the basement of The Arcade, coding on The Grid’s terminal, so she didn’t hear the sound of the rain right away. When she did however it snapped her out of her trance. A jolt of slight panic coursing through her. The bike!

She raced up the stairs, pushing away the TRON machine she had moved back into place behind her so that Marvin didn’t wander in when she was working, and raced past the other covered, but no longer dusty, cabinet machines in the arcade till she was at the door, swiftly unlocking it. She paused under the covered threshold of the entrance when she saw just how much water was falling out of the sky. That was definitely one hell of a storm.

Well. It’s not like she was going anywhere anytime soon.

She flipped her hood up and walked out to the street towards her Dad’s… well her, Ducati now, kicking up the kickstand and grabbing onto the handlebars to walk it under the covered threshold. She lifted her head up when she heard the shuffling of feet and some splashes nearby. At first she didn’t recognize him through the rain until he got a bit closer. She lifted one of her arms, waving it slightly as she called out to be heard over the pounding of raindrops and howling wind.

“Ed! Hey! Over here!”

She rested the Ducati against the wall, still waving with her hand as she held open the door of the arcade to invite him inside.

@iamnoprogram

It was one of those days where Ed couldn't go home. One of the days where he was afraid of what he might do if he left his thoughts to wander. Usually he would stay at the office and code until he passed out at at the keyboard, but his meeting with Mackey earlier that day had been... it had been a lot of things, but certainly not good. Draining, mostly. And for reasons Ed wasn't quite sure of, it brought up old ghosts that Ed still couldn't put to rest. They were the sort of ghosts that made his office, which was normally a refuge, feel downright oppressive.

He'd hoped that a long walk would exhaust him enough that he could go home and pass out as as soon as he got to bed.

He'd been walking for about an hour and a half when the storm hit. It was one of those rare deluges came so suddenly, and so intensely, that LA's near non-existent storm drainage system quickly overflowed and flooded the streets. The kind he'd only seen a handful of times in the twenty-some-odd years he'd lived there.

Between the dark, and the rain fogging up his glasses, he had pocketed the glasses in hopes of preserving them when he inevitably tripped over his feet, and resigned himself to shuffling blindly back toward the tower and his car.

Not that he had any idea whether it would be better to go home or stay at the office.

He hadn't been walking back long when he heard someone calling his name, though it had still been long enough that he was thoroughly drenched, and shivering mildly from the cold. He froze in place on the sidewalk, having to take a moment to identify her by voice, since he was all but entirely blind.

"...Sam?" he asked, then realizing where he was, and that she was the only person likely to be there. He glanced both directions, and, seeing no lights, nor hearing any vehicles (there rarely were; this part of town had been all but abandoned since he was in middle school), shuffled across the street, navigating toward Sam by voice alone.

"Hi Sam," he said awkwardly, stepping under the eaves. "Uh, thanks," he said awkwardly, hesitantly following her into the Arcade.

#/* Okay this is really funny considering: */#/* 1. my first ever thread with Ed was the reverse of this situation (but not the arcade) with Alan */#/* 2. But it also ended up involving Ed fake-dating a trans-masc Sam */#/* excited to see where this one goes */#thanks for the ask!#rp #muse: ed dillinger jr #rp-047 #iamnoprogram

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lucyandthepen · 10 months

Text

last eden - iii . | lmh

part i, ii, iii

only one thing has ever mattered to you, in this lifetime, and in all others : mark lee — even if he doesn’t know yet, and even if he may never remember.

pairing: mark x reader verse: canon/idol!verse, soulmates trope rating: T warnings: none, i think! word count: 5.7k tag list: @kikookii

a/n: quite frankly i am having a terrible headache so if you see any bad slip ups once again please feel free to let me know!! literally no mark presence in this chapter (i apologize) however, it's integral to the story, plus you have quite a bit of jaehyun to bridge the gap, so ..................... here we go !!

What’s weird is that he gives you back your album. He casually hands it over alongside the release papers like you’re still in the auditorium and not exiting the police department, with a bunch of officers casting the both of you befuddled looks. Some guy by the water cooler seems to recognize Jaehyun and promptly drops his paper cup. The water stains his pants in a supremely unattractive way, but he just keeps on staring, kind of agape.

Who can blame him, though? You’ve got this tall, handsome guy coming out of the precinct jail all smiles with this really confused girl right behind him; the scene just… it makes no sense. At all.

When you’re finally past the front doors, you open your mouth to ask him a question — any question — but nothing comes out; you’re not sure which one to prioritize. You just end up scratching your neck and saying “um,” which he responds to with a sincerely interested look, but you have nothing, so you just kind of stare at each other until even he starts looking a bit awkwardly placed.

“I couldn’t get anyone else’s signature on it anymore, but I thought you might at least like to have it back,” he gestures to the album, tucked between your side and your arm. “You know, fond memories.”

You’re sure that’s a joke, but neither of you laugh. He’s looking at you expectantly, like he wants you to have this big revelation, or to, like, start freaking out at least, but all you can do is look down at your release papers with this numbness in your chest. His name is on the signatory line: Jung Yoonoh. Like, you’d always know some of their names were stage names, but it wasn’t like you cared enough to research and memorize everyone else’s names and birthdays and favourite foods. Information on Mark was already too much, anyway.

Still, seeing his real name also made him more… normal. Even if he is still freakishly tall. You have to crane your neck slightly to maintain eye contact with him, and you can’t be too close, or you’ll just have to bend your neck back to a really bad angle.

“Your signature… looks different on this paper,” you observe stupidly.

“Yeah, well… I can’t really put a big, obnoxious autograph on a legal document, can I?” he chuckles.

“Why did you — I mean, you didn’t have to, but thank you, but — why?”

“Why did I bail you out?” He looks away slowly, out towards the busy road. It looks so dramatic that you almost want to look around to see if you’re accidentally trapped in a primetime drama series with him. “Well, for one, I know you’re not crazy.”

That’s good. Not necessarily the NCT member you wanted to convince of your sanity, but it’s some kind of progress.

“But more importantly, I think it’s important that you’re aware that there are always people who are going to help you.”

That was way too much depth considering you’d just formally met each other about an hour or two ago. He turns back to you, a small smile still playing on his lips. You smile back — although it feels more like a grimace.

“Thank… you?” You let the last syllable of your thanks hang awkwardly, unsure if he wants to just drop the conversation or something, but he looks at you expectantly, so you feel compelled to continue. “I mean… That’s nice of you to say so, and I’m grateful that you think that I’m not crazy — I’m really not — but I just… feel bad.”

“Bad?” It’s his turn to look bemused.

“Bad, yeah. I mean, you’ve got so much on your plate without having to go through all this trouble just to help a fan you don’t know. I’m not complaining,” you add quickly. “I’m just saying… you… you didn’t have to. I could have called my friend or my mom, or something. The point is, you didn’t have to go out of your way and hassle yourself for a nobody you’ve never met.”

“We’ve met,” he raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, like two hours ago.”

“I kind of remember seeing you further back,” he says slowly.

“Okay, but that day doesn’t count,” you say, sounding dismissive, but you’re honestly just embarrassed he remembers you diving at Mark after the M! Countdown stage. “We didn’t even talk. I don’t even know if anyone else apart from Mark and Doyoung got a good look at my face. My point is —”

“I got a pretty good look from the car,” he replies simply, and you can see he’s struggling to keep down a smile. “But I mean—”

“My point is,” you press on. “Thank you. For today — for bailing me out even if I’m just some crazy fan and for, you know, assuring me that you don’t actually think I’m crazy.”

He waits for a second, then a huge, toothy grin spreads across his face. “That’s it?”

“I guess.” It felt kind of anticlimactic. You’re confused, yes, but under that, you’re really just grateful. And confused. But mostly grateful.

“You’re welcome, then,” he says simply. “But if you’re really thankful, maybe you should take my advice when I say you should think about taking a break.”

And now you’re stumped again. “What?”

“Take a break,” he repeats himself. “Try not to overexert yourself too much and get into this kind of trouble. Times are hard these days, and they’ll only get harder.”

“Is that your best fortune cookie impression?”

He laughs again — loudly this time, so much so that the police officers stepping outside of the building shoot him a surprised look. “No, but I think it’s a pretty good one, don’t you?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“You will,” he says, and although his words are mysterious, his demeanor is weirdly cavalier; he just shrugs his shoulders. “But it always takes time for it to sink in. When it does, you should call me.”

“I should huh?”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a wrinkled ziplock bag that turns out to contain your phone. The front of the bag has all of your details, and some vindictive police officer had written CONFISCATED on it with a thick red pen.

“I put my number in there; I hope you don’t mind. I’m not, like, randomly hitting on you, or anything weird like that, in case you were wondering. I just think you might want to keep in touch even after this.” He makes a slightly pained face. “Um, it’s also been ringing a lot. Your friend is probably looking for you, but I didn’t want to invade your privacy and answer it.”

“I can tell,” you reply, fishing it out of the bag and unlocking it. You have eleven missed calls and a bunch of KakaoTalk messages. “How in the world did you unlock my phone?”

“I guessed your passcode. It wasn’t hard considering how much I already know about you. Call it an educated guess.”

“How much you — okay,” you don’t know if your agitation is a result of feeling slightly violated now or just residual trauma from today’s events as a whole. “You need to be straight with me and tell me what you’re saying, really.”

“I’m NCT’s Jaehyun, and I just bailed you out of jail. I can be as mysterious as I want.”

“Those two reasons literally don’t make sense!” you half-shriek.

“Don’t yell; people might think I’m kidnapping you,” he actually looks around like he’s worried.

“I’m the one with a criminal record in this conversation.”

“Did they really write you up as a criminal?”

“I’m pretty sure I saw them write that I was charged with viol — that’s besides the point,” you quickly haul the conversation back to the topic. “I don’t understand anything that’s going on here, and you sound like you’re saying something important, but all I hear is some weird guru babble.”

“If I try to explain everything here, we’re just going to have a hard time. Besides, there’s no real learning if I just tell you everything.” You feel like you’re going to scream again, but you don’t really want to be caught harassing another idol, especially one that’s helped you, so you just bite your tongue. Hard. "You’re tired. I’m tired. People are looking for us. I need to get to practice, and you… need to… um, do stuff. Have dinner. Go see a movie, or something. I’ve got free passes, if you want them; they’re probably in my wallet somewhere —“

“Pass on the movie,” you say firmly. “I just… Okay. I’m going home. I’m going to process what just happened, crawl into bed, and then die, maybe.”

“Before you die,” he interrupts. “Call me. After the whole processing thing.”

“Before I die, I will consider calling you. Even though I don’t know why I should, and especially because that’s very weird, considering we’re not even friends.”

“I paid your bail,” he pouts. He pouts? In this day and age? “What else does it take to be your friend, then?”

“Clear responses.”

“Well, if that’s what it takes, we’ll be friends when you process everything that happened today and you inevitably call me.”

You awkwardly see Jung Jaehyun off, waiting for his cab to leave before calling Heehyeon back. Just as the car is about to move forward, the driver presses on the break again, and he rolls his window down. Jaehyun is beside him, craning his neck so you can hear him clearly when he says call me, okay? You make a half-hearted grunt that he takes for assent and finally allows the driver to speed away.

“What happened to you?” Heehyeon screams into the phone the moment she picks up. “There were tons of policemen outside CGV! One of them said someone got arrested. Did you get arrested? Please give me at least one bit of good news today and tell me you didn’t.”

“I was… hauled away and put in time-out?”

“You’re so — oh my God, tell me which police station.”

The moment you finish giving the address, she hangs up, and you can only assume she’s on her way. You end up standing outside of the police station for another twenty minutes, alternating between just looking guilty and playing 1010 on your phone. You hear your name being called out by a clearly incensed voice, and you turn to see your roommate charging at you, lips pressed in a tight line. Your palms, admittedly, get just a little sweaty.

“Don’t start,” Heehyeon raises a hand. Her cheeks are flushed, probably because she’s minutes away from exploding and she’s also been running. Her chest is heaving, probably for similar reasons. “I had to hear from some kids that a crazy fan leapt over the signing table, pushed aside Doyoung and Jaehyun, and kissed Mark full on the mouth! I told you not to do anything crazy, and you had to do the one thing that made you look the craziest!”

“I did no such thing!” You argue, slightly affronted. “Why would you even believe I’d do that?”

“Because you’re not above that when it comes to Mark!”

“I still have my dignity,” you retort.

“Do you? Do you really?”

“I didn’t do anything. I literally didn’t!” You cut her off before she can start again. “I was just moving along the line, ready to give him the album and the letter, and he and Doyoung recognized me —“

“More people recognized you? That’s just great —“

“The point is, I didn’t make any kind of scene!” You huff; despite knowing that this is somehow your fault, you can’t help but feel like people have blown this issue way out of proportion. You had only had a brief, harmless spell of hysteria once, and now you’re crazy? “I was just doing what I had planned to do. It just didn’t go as planned.”

“I’ll say,” Heehyeon’s face is considerably less red; perhaps she’d come to believe you, or maybe she’d always just been really good at not blowing up at you for all of your strange decisions. She eases herself in front of you, sticking out her arm to call a cab. Her voice becomes muffled as she crawls her way into the far end of the backseat. “The whole first floor was a mess. Other people thought there was a bomb threat. They said a whole bunch of fans got arrested. How the hell did you get out?”

“I got bailed out,” you shift your weight between your feet before you follow suit. You can’t wait until this story gets even weirder, considering that the cab driver is looking at the two of you suspiciously. Heehyeon doesn’t notice, or if she does, she doesn’t mind, so she gives your address to him as he starts moving forward.

“How — is your mom in town or something?”

“No, it was… you know.”

“I really don’t,” she replies, tiredly. You can’t blame her. Her heart has probably experienced just about the same amount of distress as your own.

“It was… Jaehyun. You know.”

“Like, your manager?”

“Wh — no, I mean, Jung Jaehyun.” When her face draws a blank, you sigh, turning away. You pass by an Innisfree, and then a Nature Republic. You should really figure out how to make up for all the hours you took off from work. Somehow, you feel embarrassed about a lot of things. “You know. Jaehyun? From NCT?”

“I know of him.”

“Well, he paid my bail.”

There’s silence in the backseat now. Heehyeon isn’t even making eye contact with you; her face is uncomfortably unreadable. The cab driver makes a turn and ups the volume of the song playing on the radio.

“Okay,” Heehyeon says slowly, after her long and strange pause. “New question. Why?”

“Good question,” you respond, blowing out a bit of air in frustration. “I don’t know.”

“Did he bribe you? To stay away from Mark?”

“No,” that would have made more sense, though. “He said we were friends and demanded that I call him soon.”

“Maybe it’s, like, a cry for help. Maybe SM Entertainment is just holding him hostage and he needs you to bail him out.”

“This isn’t a soap opera, you lunatic.”

“Yeah, you’re right. There would have to be another annoying girl competing for Mark’s affections while the main girl suffers in silence. Or, plot twist, you’re the annoying girl.”

“Well, he seemed like he was being genuine,” you ignore her last comment, although you do meet it with a standard eye roll. “He even broke into my phone and gave me his number.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” she pauses again, this time to snort. “Although anyone can break into your phone, now that I think about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve got a one-track mind. Anyone who can see that knows exactly what your passcode is. And I’m sure he saw that, considering he saw you lunging at Mark.”

“I did not lunge! And my passcode is fairly secure.”

“0802.”

“What?” You say defensively.

“It’s 0802. Your passcode. It’s Mark’s birthday.”

“Lucky guess,” you mutter, shifting your vision away once again as she snickers behind her hand.

You and Heehyeon split the cab fare and trudge up to your apartment; both of you look worse for wear, and she flops down onto the couch while you fiddle with the air conditioner’s remote.

“You think he’s in love with you?”

“Who? Mark? I doubt it.”

“No; I meant Jaehyun.”

“I doubt that even more,” you sigh, pushing her feet off the couch so you can settle on it with a groan.

“You’ll never know,” she pokes your thigh with her toe, and you swat at her ankles. “Maybe he likes girls that are kind of possessive.”

“I am not possessive!” You want to yell, but your fatigue is catching up to you. Instead, you smack her calf; a satisfying whimper escapes her.

“If you weren’t, you would just let him go.”

“You know why I can’t, you dumbass. He’s my soulmate.”

“What if that’s not a real thing? What if you’ve just been with him all this time because you keep finding a way to track him down?”

“Why would I have the memory to keep finding him if we weren’t meant to be together?” You say exasperatedly.

“All I’m saying is that you should think about taking a break. Go on vacation. Or a blind date.”

“You—“ you turn to her, your brows furrowed. “You sound like Jaehyun.”

“How so?”

“He told me to take a break,” you recall slowly. “Told me not to overexert myself. He said something about times just getting harder.”

Heehyeon sits up and stretches out; you hear her back crack. Her shirt rides up a little when she shrugs. “What does that mean?”

“Beats me. It’s kind of why I thought he was a little out of it.”

“Well, I’m telling you to take a break. If you’re not going to take it from him, take it from me. Knowing you’ve spent all of your lives chasing after Mark is tiring.”

A strange tingle runs down your spine. “Wait, what did you say?”

“I said you should take a break.”

“No, not that,” you say impatiently. “The other thing.”

“I said knowing you’ve spent all of your lives chasing Mark is tiring, so you should give it a rest for a while.”

“Knowing I’ve spent all of my lives…” you echo. Your fingers curl into your palms, nails digging into your skin. Heehyeon tosses you a slightly confused look. “Do you think —no way. It can’t be, right? Not Jaehyun?”

“What ab —“ she freezes, her jaw suddenly going slack. You lick your lips, waiting for her to say something affirming, like no way, or you’re crazy, but she just meets your eyes with a slightly panicked expression.

“Jesus Christ. You need to call him now.”

Jaehyun actually sounds really happy when he picks up. There’s music playing in the background, and you can hear voices talking over it. His own voice echoes a little in whatever space he’s in, and his breathing is slightly labored.

“Did you get home safely? Did your friend come pick you up?”

“I don’t want to be rude, but since you’re busy and probably have very little time to talk, can I be the one asking the questions this time?”

“Okay — actually, it really isn’t a good time right now,” he hums. You want to scream with frustration, but you know idol’s lives are just the worst when it comes to having leeway for free time, so you swallow it down. “Are you free later tonight? You can ask whatever you want.”

“Like, 7:30, 8 pm?”

“More like past midnight,” he says, and now he has the audacity to sound a little sheepish. “Sorry. Tight schedule.”

“I have work tomorrow,” you half-whine.

“I don’t really know when our next off-schedule is. Maybe in a couple of weeks?”

You can’t wait that long. Even the thought of waiting until 8 PM was already a little tortuous. But since he’s giving the answers, you have to play by some of his rules. “Fine. 1 am.”

You make plans to meet at a coffee shop in Garosu-gil, and he’s nice enough to promise you a ride home, even if it’s kind of out of the way for him. You hang up just in time to avoid Heehyeon yelling out I love you, Jaehyun! from the kitchen. She snickers when you throw an oven mitt in her general direction.

A lot of the boutiques in the area are half-closed already, and there are very few people making their way down the street when you get out of the cab at a quarter to 1. You’re glad the street is fairly narrow, enough for only foot traffic, with all of its shops stuck together, but it’s still a fairly long stretch of road. You take your time strolling down the street, assuming that Jaehyun will be late considering he’s got a pretty tight schedule.

So you’re surprised that you see him by the window of the otherwise empty cafe, playing Gardenscapes on his phone. He notices you walk up, laughing at your alarmed expression as you pick up your pace considerably and enter the cafe.

“I thought you’d be late!” You hiss, using a fierce tone so as not to call attention to the embarrassment that’s probably clear in your overheated face.

“Hey, I can be punctual when I want to be.” He pockets his phone as you sit down across him, slipping your bag off your shoulder and kicking it under the table. “Smooth.”

“I was assuming you’d have some really heavy schedule to attend to, so I took my sweet time walking. You didn’t even text!”

“I didn’t want to hurry you or stress you out. You already kind of look like you stress yourself out.”

You have no response to this, mostly because it’s true. You just stand up, mutter something unintelligible, and march off to the counter, ordering a cup of iced chocolate before sitting back down.

“So,” he leans forward, lacing his fingers together on the table. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Physically, yes. Mentally? Still pretty confused.”

“You said you had questions.”

“Yeah. First of all, how do you know what my passcode for my phone is?”

“What — Mark’s birthday?” He laughs at your frown. “Educated guess. You should really think about changing it.”

“I don’t think it’s that predictable if you aren’t a fan.”

“Is that really the thing you’re most concerned about right now?”

“No,” you chew your lip, suddenly nervous. He doesn’t change his position, just kind of… sits there and waits really patiently. Both of your eyes follow the waiter’s hands as he sets down your iced chocolate a few inches away from Jaehyun’s half-finished iced Americano. “I want to know the truth about you.”

“Okay — my name is Jung Jaehyun. I was born on the 14th of February. My mom’s name is —”

“No, not that stuff,” you wave his oncoming spiel away. He pretends to look affronted, which you also manage to ignore by taking a sip of your drink. “You know what I mean. Why did you bail me out? Why are you so friendly towards me when we’ve never met before? Why are you talking to me like you know so much about me?”

“What do you mean? We’ve met before.”

“How long ago?”

He twists his cup in its saucer; a little puddle of coffee has formed around the base of the cup. Jaehyun seems really interested in it, suddenly. “Before I answer that, can I ask you something?”

This conversation really isn’t going as planned. Then again, you had also refused to take Heehyeon’s advice to strap Jaehyun to a chair and tickle the answers out of him. Now you’re not really sure if you regret that decision. “I guess so. What?”

“What do you know about the Battle of Volgograd?”

You make a face that very clearly amuses him. “I only took Korean history in college. Even that was an elective. I know next to nothing about the rest of the world.”

“Nothing? You don’t remember anything from it?”

“Why are you asking me for a lecture on European history?”

“I sometimes dream about Russia. Like, really clearly,” he keeps turning his cup in its saucer. “But, like, I know what it looks like now, sort of, but it’s not really that way in my dreams. It’s more of like, a really bad war zone. Everything’s messed up. So many people are dead. Pretty sure I killed some of them? It was just a really bad time. In my dream, I mean.”

“Sure,” you’re turning your own cup, too. You’re not sure if he’s doing the same thing because he’s just as anxious and nervous as you are. It’s like there’s suddenly this blanket of tension over your heads, with a big revelation about to come out, and you just want to will it to be revealed faster.

You lived through that time in Russia. Except it wasn’t called Volgograd; it was called Stalingrad back then, and it was at the brink of destruction. You later found out that the Soviet Union had won, but it wasn’t like you could be happy about that news, considering what you’d lost.

“What’s so weird is that Mark was in my dream, too,” Jaehyun continues. “Like, I know that it was him, even if he looked kind of different. It’s so weird, but I didn’t call him Mark, obviously. But he talked like him and acted like him, so I knew.”

“So it was just all nine of you in Russia, or something?”

“Like, in NCT? No, just Mark. It wasn’t an ensemble cast, or anything.”

Your heart is pounding. It’s the kind of proof you need, but you feel like this moment is so tense that you don’t want to interrupt him. You just take a really big gulp of iced chocolate.

“Mark and I were really close because we were both in the army. Before we slept every night, he’d look at a picture of this girl. He kept saying he wanted to go home to her. Like, he didn’t want to die without ever seeing her again. He’d write her letters, but sending them was too difficult and expensive. He just kept saying the fight wasn’t worth it.”

Jaehyun is looking at you, but you can’t make eye contact. His fingers drum against the surface of the table, more and more agitatedly as the seconds tick by. You actually hear him swallow before he continues.

“Things got bad. We thought we were going to lose. The commander sent us out on some kind of suicide mission, and it should have gone fine, but you know how things are in war. Something always manages to go wrong, and we were gunned down. I barely made it out alive. Mark was badly wounded, and the medic tried to help, but they couldn’t bec—“

“Stop,” your voice is shaky. “This isn’t what I was asking about, Jaehyun.”

He looks apologetic, but his words are firm. “At least let me finish.”

“I just need an answer to my questions.”

“These are my answers. They’re convoluted and weird, but it’s the best proof I have.”

You can’t say anything after that, so you just keep your eyes on the table, your lip trembling a little. He takes this as a cue to keep talking.

“Anyway, the medics told me that time was running out. If we stayed there for much longer, we’d all die. Mark has always kind of been this weird hero, you know? He makes all these weird sacrifices no one expects him to, and he’s just okay with it. And it was like that in the dream; he told me to leave, and he pulled out that picture he’d always kept in his jacket pocket and gave it to me. He made me promise to get her out of the city and take her somewhere safe so she wouldn’t get hurt if the Soviet lost the war.”

You’re not sure if it’s the lighting or the time, or maybe it’s just the weight of this dream on Jaehyun’s shoulders. Either way, he looks eerily older now, like his face is way tired and a little sunken. The dark circles around his eyes are pretty prominent without make-up, you note.

“I went AWOL. I was pretty done with the fighting, too. The commander looked surprised that some of us came back alive, like we were just dispensable. That same night, I took Mark’s stuff and left camp. He wrote the girl’s address on all of the envelopes he kept his letters in, so I thought maybe she’d at least like to have them. What was so weird was that when I looked at her picture, I knew her. She was an old schoolmate of mine, and her dad and mine sometimes had drinks together.” He chuckles with little humor. “Kind of weird, isn’t it? You run into people later on in your life when you’ve just nearly forgotten all about them.”

“Did you find her?”

“Yeah, I did. What was so fucked up though was that when I told her, she didn’t even really cry. I was worried she’d gone into shock, or something, but she just took the letters, gave me something to drink, and told me to go back to the front.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“No, of course not. I mean, not only did I not want to die, I also didn’t want to not do the last thing Mark asked me to. So we left. I helped her get back to her parents in the province. After that, the dream just kind of skips randomly. I never saw her again, though. She must have gotten married, or something. Who knows?”

“She didn’t.”

“It was just a dream,” he replies carefully.

“Well, she didn’t.” You frown. “She never married.There was no point. He was supposed to come home and marry her.”

“That’s not a very happy ending to think about.”

“It’s not, but it’s what happened.” The entire time he’d been telling his story, your stomach had felt hollow; now, it feels heavy with lead, dragging your heart down with it. Jaehyun’s hand reaches out instinctively, but he draws it back, fingers curling into a fist.

“I wouldn’t know, but I’m sure you would. Considering that was you, and all.”

“How many do you remember?” You ask.

“Vividly? I’d say maybe five. I’m sure there are others, but it’s kind of hard to keep track. I just know you’re always there. So is Mark.”

“I don’t remember,” you admit. “I mean, I don’t remember you. When you tell me this story, I can remember it, but I never thought it was you, over and over.”

“Yeah, well, I’m doing things differently this time around,” he smiles slightly. “I never told you before that I remembered you. Not sure how that’s going to change anything now, but at least I’m trying that.”

“So, if I asked you if you remember anything about, say, Rome —“

“It was your son’s birthday. That day of the… uh —”

“Right,” you lean back in your chair, shaking your head. “Okay. This is… fine, I guess. Kind of weird, but fine.”

“______________,” him saying your name is shocking, and it throws you off for some reason; your eyes shoot up to meet his. They’re very clearly concerned in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and exposed. “I’m not acting like I know what you’re going through. But I’ve seen it over and over, from a close distance, at least. You’re more and more unhappy. I can’t begin to understand what kind of connection you have, but is it worth it to suffer this much every time? For one person?”

“Are you implying that he’s not worth it?”

“Of course not. I’m just trying to wrap my head around why you would keep doing it knowing that something terrible will happen anyway.”

“Why?”

“I mean, you could change course,” he shrugs. “I’m trying it. Who knows? Maybe now that I’ve told you, I can stop remembering everything, and we can meet in the next life as totally new people. That’s why I suggested you take a break; do it for yourself. Why would you repeat the same shitty cycle?”

“Because I love him,” you reply, simply, and more firmly than you had at any other point in this messed up conversation. “Isn’t that enough?”

Both of your cups are empty, save for the last dregs of your drinks. Jaehyun stares at you, both his hands wrapped around the curve of his mug. It feels like a whole lifetime stretches out before you before he sighs and lifts his cup to his lips, draining the last of his coffee. You watch him, befuddled, as he pats around his pockets and brings out his car key.

“Okay,” he says, with a weird sort of finality. “Let’s get going, then.”

“What, that’s it?” You can’t even hide the disappointment in your voice. Somehow, you thought you’d be talking a lot more. But, then again, what more was there for you to figure out? “We’re leaving?”

“Yeah; I’m going back to the dorm,” he stands up, pulling a bill out of his other pocket and going over to the counter to place it in the tip jar. You scramble around for your bag, pulling it over your shoulder as you stand up as well.

“Oh,” you feel foolish and a little impertinent for asking, but it is the middle of the night, and you feel like looking slightly demanding is better than hailing a cab at this ungodly hour. “Will… I get to go home first?”

“Yeah, I’ll drop you off there for sure. But we’ll just stop at the dorm for a bit.”

“Okay,” you don’t really feel like you have a huge say in this, and it’s not like you’re complaining yet, but you’re still slightly confused at the abrupt ending to this conversation. You express this as you try to keep up with Jaehyun’s much longer stride. “Do you gas up at the dorm, or something?”

He laughs. It’s really, really loud, especially for this time of night. “No. I was thinking, tonight, maybe I might talk you out of your bad life habits, but it’s obvious you’ve always been set in your ways. So we’re going with plan B.”

“What the hell is plan B?” When had there been a plan A? Why was this all becoming so weirdly convoluted?

Jaehyun helps you into the car, reminding you about the seatbelt before making his way around the front and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Plan B,” he jams the key into the ignition, turning it until the engine purrs to life. “Is getting you and Mark in the same room without him calling the police on you.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but have you actually thought this plan through? The past couple of encounters didn’t go well. At all.”

He adjusts the rearview mirror before turning to you; his teeth are white, gleaming in the dark as he grins.

“You know what they say. Third time’s the charm.”

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hughescluez · 1 year

Note

hi!! can I request 21 & 24 from your prompt list with bordy? thank you!

hi there hun ! thank you for requesting <3

21. “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

24. “don’t you dare walk away from this.”

word count: 987

you sigh softly, swirling the drink that is still in your solo cup. to put it lightly, the party was boring. normally, you can tolerate them because you always go along with thomas, but today was different.

thomas and you got into a small argument before heading over, so you both showed up to the party alone, which sparked a flood of questions and confusion from the other boys.

thomas was aware that you needed space after an argument, especially given the intensity of the one you two had just an hour prior to the party. he was aware that the least he could do was refrain from pissing you off further, but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on you and watching your every move from a distance.

thomas rolls his eyes as brendan claps his back again, questioning him on why he hasn’t gone up to you yet.

“do you ever stop being annoying—or does it just run in your bloodstream?”

brendan scoffs at his best friends response, “i’ll stop being annoying once you learn how to be less adamant.”

thomas was well aware that brendan was right, but he would never give him the satisfaction of being right. as much as he wanted to reach out to you, he didn’t know if the moment was right. he wasn't sure if you wanted to speak with him at the moment so his feet stayed glued to the same spot.

“oh c’mon, just go talk to her instead of watching her like a hawk.”

he gives brendan a glare before nudging him off, returning his gaze back to you only to see that this time you were looking right back at him making his heart skip a beat. although, the moment was cut short as some frat cuts in to introduce himself.

you plaster on a fake smile as the boy introduces himself. you were not a fan of mingling around with strangers. as the conversation grows, you became more open and suddenly for a bit, you forgot that you were at a party.

thomas, on the other hand, was filled with rage, watching the interaction with hard eyes as he takes another swig out of his beer.

“who the fuck is y/n talking to?” matty asks as he joins the spot beside thomas as they both watch you laugh at another dumb joke he probably made.

“how the fuck am i supposed to know.”

“don’t you wanna— i don’t know maybe go talk to her now?”

“no.”

“i think you shou— “i said no.”

matty shakes his head, rolling his eyes at thomas’ ego that sometimes seems to shine out brighter than other days.

“well, shes leaving now so i gue—”

before matty could finish his sentence, thomas is already rushing over to where you were now standing with the so-called frats’ jacket draped around your shoulder.

“hey thomas?” you say but it comes out more as a question.

“who’s the guy?”

he completely dodged what you said as he shoots daggers at the boy standing just a couple of steps away from him.

“this is chad, chad this is thomas.”

you can see thomas snort at his name, as chad reaches out to shake his hand. he keeps his arms wrapped around himself, still keeping his gaze fixed on the boy.

chad coughs awkwardly as he clears his throat, “anyways, i think me and y/n are heading out so we’ll catch you later man.”

“no the fuck she’s not, she’s coming with me right now. let’s go y/n i need to talk to you.” he grabs the jacket off your shoulder, throwing it back at chad.

before you could protest; thomas is already grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the scene. you were annoyed, to say the least. he ignored you the whole party but now decides to make an appearance.

“what the fuck was that thomas?” you seethe as he shuts the door behind him.

“you’re asking me that question! what the fuck were you doing?”

“talking to someone that actually acknowledged me throughout the night unlike you so tell me thomas, who’s the bad guy here?”

he watches, as you angrily tuck your hair behind your ear; watching him with a glare waiting for him to respond to your question.

“i don’t want you talking to that guy ever again.”

that’s it? that’s all he had to say to your question. thomas was a man of very few words. you figured that out when you first became friends with him and you loved that about him but at the moment it was infuriating you.

“you know what— i’m not doing this right now.”

you turn around reaching for the door but thomas is quick to grab your hand, spinning you around to face him.

“don’t you dare walk away from this.”

you watch his eyes; trying to read his emotions but they were clouded with a mixture of stuff. you had never seen him like this.

“what else do you want me to do? i need answers thomas. you can’t just be my frie— “we are not just friends and you fucking know it.”

you feel your heart beginning to race as all of the emotions began rushing through your mind. he wasn’t wrong, for the first time the feelings that you’ve been keeping buried deep down inside of you began to pile out.

“and i know you feel it too— whatever i’m feeling i just need you to tell me that you do.”

you didn’t know that to say, so all you could do is just throw yourself in his arms and he’s quick to react as he pulls you close to him placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“i do feel it thom, just as much.”

his jaw unclenches as he continues to hold you tighter, as your words bring him a sense of relief.

#thomas bordeleau #thomas bordeleau imagine #thomas bordeleau imagines #thomas bordeleau x reader #thomas bordeleau blurb #nhl hockey #hockey #umich hockey #umich imagine #brendan brisson #matty beniers

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 3 months

Text

“Hellbound”

-C.S

Part Five

Synopsis: Christopher fucking Sturniolo. A name Camila couldn’t stand. No, not for any normal reason. She didn’t hate him because he had everything she didn’t. She didn’t hate him because he’s too damn confident. No, she hated him because of how much she wanted him.

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo (he/him) x Camila Solan (she/her)

Warnings: Cussing, Suggestive content, drugs, and alcohol.

read other parts here!

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

Cami bounded down the halls of the now quiet house, and peered into Matt’s room. She saw the boy, sitting alone, on the floor, his head tucked to his knees.

He was quietly sniffling, his breathing faster paced than usual. Cami slowly walked into his room, shutting the door behind her.

“Matt…” She sighed, sitting down next to the weeping boy. “Hey, its okay.. You’re okay,” She rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing his back.

“I’m sorry- I’m so so sorry-“ He rambled, wrapping both of his arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“No, don’t be sorry. And if you need to apologize, go apologize to Chris. He’s the one you fucked up, not me.” She suggested, and he nodded.

“Yeah.. Yeah, you’re right.” He stood up, and wiped his face. “Come with?” he asked, holding his hand out for Cami to grab.

“Okay. I’ll come, but im staying out of the room. This is your apology. Not ours.” She agreed.

The pair walked down the stairs and headed to Chris’ room. When they got there, Cami let her hand fall out of his grasp, and he looked back at her, before knocking on the door.

“Come in.” You both hear Chris mumble through the door, and Matt pushed himself into the room, closing the door behind him.

Cami couldn’t hear much, besides a few mumbles here and there, and some shuffling, to which she assumed was Matt pacing.

After a few minutes, Matt left the room, and stopped in front of Cami.

“He wants to talk to you.” He nodded, before walking off.

Cami was extremely confused. Why would Chris want to talk to her after all of this, and why did Matt say it like that?

“Chris..?” Cami asked, peeping her head around the door.

“Yeah.. come in. I wanna talk to you.” He spoke, his facial expression unreadable, which was very unlike Chris. He still had some blood dripping out of his nose, and running down his face from his eyebrow, but nothing too bad.

Cami took a few steps in, before closing the door, standing awkwardly in front of it.

“Umm.. What do you wanna talk to me about..?” She tilted her head, and Chris shook his.

“I’m.. I’m sorry.” The longer haired boy looked down at his knees.

“You… what? Why?” Cami furrowed her eyebrows. Chris didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

“For.. leading you on. Ya know?” He tilted his head, and she nodded.

“Y-you.. that means you don’t like me..?” Cami asked.

“Well- no. Yes? Yes and no? I- I don’t know..” He groaned, and Cami nodded.

“It’s okay.. I know it’s a far stretch. It’s okay for you to not like me.” Cami reassured, and backed up, placing her hand on the cold metal of the door.

“No- No, it’s not like that. Not at all- I..” Chris reassured as he quickly stood up, walking towards the smaller girl.

He pulled her into a hug, keeping his arms around her waist, as the girl hesitated, before wrapping her arms around the taller boy.

“Cam. I like you, I really do, but I can’t commit to that.. Knowing I can hurt you. Understand?” He pulled away. “I want nothing more than to fall asleep with you in my arms, like last night, I want nothing more than to hold your soft hands in mine, kissing your soft lips whenever I want, to hold you, to care for you, to be able to call you mine. But I can’t. Theres always the risk that I can hurt you, and thats the thing I don’t want to happen. Out of all of those things I just listed, I want them so bad.. So fucking bad, but not bad enough to hurt you.” Chris shook his head, his eyes beginning to fill with salty tears.

“W-What..? Chris- Why would you be scared to hurt me?” She tilted her head.

“I.. Cami, you just need to trust me on this one, okay? I know you don’t want to, but you have to. I promise, I want this just as bad as you do, but.. like I said, not bad enough to hurt you.” Chris apologizes.

He takes her hand in his, and pulls it up to his mouth, before placing a small kiss on it. The action made her heart flutter. He pulled her hand away from his mouth, before placing it on hers.

“This is as much as you get. I’m sorry.” Chris looked exhausted. He looked hurt. Did Matt say something?

No.. he shouldn’t have. Matt always wants the best for Cami. He wouldn’t have told Chris to stay away from her. He would never. Matt was Cami’s best friend, he wouldn’t turn his back on her like that.

Or would he?

@bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @stunza

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst

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waywardxwords · 10 months

Text

2. Blame it on the Whiskey

Chapter 2 of Little Secrets

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,611

Warnings: Fluff? No warnings, really.

MASTERLIST

Y/N tried not to fumble with her key card as she slid it through the motel door’s automated lock. At least if it did seem like she was struggling, she could still blame the looming alcohol in her system. That whiskey had really done a number on her. She made a mental note to not accept celebratory drinks from the Winchester brothers for a while; it was taking a toll on her sanity and creating warmth in the pit of her stomach from the lofty man behind her.

Sam didn’t seem phased as he entered the room behind her and removed his jacket. “I’m going to run down to our room before Dean gets back so I can grab my laptop and my bag,” he explained as he moved to the door.

“Sounds good, I’m gonna hop in the shower,” Y/N thumbed to the bathroom door behind her while she awkwardly rocked on her heels. He nodded and left the room after grabbing her room key card. After the door clicked shut, she let out a hot breath of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Pull it together, Y/N,” she gritted her teeth through her own personal pep talk. “It’s just Sam.”

She shook her head and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. She certainly wouldn’t be trotting around in her normal bedtime get-up of a tank and underwear. She had already blushed enough for one day.

She closed the bathroom door and gave herself a once over in the mirror. A groan came from the back of her throat. She looked tired; dark circles were beginning to form under her eyes and her complexion was still slightly flushed, a result of mixing whiskey and her feelings for Sam. Y/N always managed to keep those feelings stored in a box in the back of her mind–it was a box she wouldn’t dare open. But tonight, tonight was different.

She blamed the whiskey.

She turned the faucet in the shower to cold; maybe a cold shower would do her worn body some good. She removed her clothes and rushed through her thoughts. She found herself asking whether Sam maybe had feelings for her too. But again, with a shake of her head she made those thoughts get back in their box.

The cold water cascaded over her hair and aching muscles. She closed her eyes and relished in the oddly relaxing sensation. She turned the water a bit warmer and after she felt satisfyingly clean, she turned off the water and pulled one of the itchy motel towels into the shower with her to dry off her skin.

Her ears strained to listen to see if Sam had returned. She was sure he had; she had already been in the shower for at least ten minutes.

She got dressed and piled her dirty clothes together with one arm while the other hand gripped the towel to her head to dry her dampened tresses. She juggled the dirty clothes tucked under her arm as she opened the bathroom door into the main part of the motel room.

Sure enough, Sam was settled in on the bed that didn’t have Y/N’s bag on it. His laptop was open, the light illuminating the features of his face. When he heard the bathroom door open, he glanced up at Y/N with a nervous look on his face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Y/N asked as she tossed her dirty clothes on top of her duffel bag and pulled the towel through her hair a few more times for good measure.

Sam moved the computer off of his lap and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to stand in front of her. His hands instantly moved in front of him and his eyes seemed almost apologetic. Y/N’s heart rate sped up rapidly.

“Y/N, please don’t be mad,” well, shit. Nothing good ever came after that kind of opener. Y/N braced herself internally for him to continue. “You got a text and I’m so used to checking Dean’s phone when it goes off just in case it’s about a job…and so I looked, and…” he trailed off as Y/N reached for her phone she had placed on the nightstand between the two beds.

Her heart felt like it had skyrocketed and gotten stuck in her throat as her eyes grazed the preview of the message on the phone screen.

Mom

I know you don’t want anything to do with us right now, but please call me as soon as you can.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was. And somehow, Sam could sense that before he even told her he had read the message by mistake.

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed and kept her eyes on the cell phone. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in almost a year. At the beginning of her “hunting hobby”, she had tried to keep up with her family while she simultaneously kept them in the dark about her newfound pastime. But then her mother found out. And she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around what her baby girl was involving herself in. Y/N had to do everything she could to focus on the job at hand. In Bobby’s words, “You got bigger things to worry about, girl,” and he was right. She had people to save, things to kill.

But it still hit her harder in that moment than she realized she would. She blamed the whiskey.

“I didn’t mean to invade your space,” Sam’s words were soft as their knees almost touched while they faced each other on opposite beds. Sam didn’t know specifics, but he knew that Y/N had very limited contact with her family and that she never wanted to talk about it.

“It’s fine, Sam. It’s not a big deal,” it really wasn’t a big deal, him seeing the text. The words in the text were what felt like a big deal in her heart. They were words she really hadn’t wanted to hear, or expected to receive, anyway.

“The text feels like a big deal,” Sam took the initiative to sit next to her on the bed. “You wanna talk about it?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk a bit at the question. It was very Sam of him to ask her if she wanted to talk about it. He was always the one talking things out with her; making sure she was okay.

“My mom and I just don’t see eye to eye on the hunting thing,” she explained cautiously, still not willing to meet Sam’s gaze. “She was never supposed to know about it, anyway. I had worked hard to keep it from her–from my entire family. It was easy when I was just hunting on the side and living a somewhat normal life. But then it kinda took over.” She played with a stray thread on the towel in her hands. “And then there was a hunt that involved them. A vamp from my old roommate’s nest had escaped our raid. The vamp went after my family. I busted in on the night of the attack with Jeff and Lily. I’m not sure if my mom was more upset by what I was doing or that I had hidden it from her.”

Sam nodded silently as he gathered his thoughts. “You’re good at what you do, Y/N. This job isn’t for everyone. You were just trying to keep your family safe by not telling them. As hunters, we have to make so many sacrifices, and it sucks.”

Y/N laughed softly, realizing that her throat had tightened involuntarily as she spoke about her family. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Hey,” Sam reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, which sat on her knee. He looped his thumb under her palm in a way of holding her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. “Do you wanna call her?”

Y/N smiled at his touch and shook her head ‘no’ as a silent tear managed to sneak out of the corner of her eye and down her cheek. She hastily reached up to swipe it away before he noticed. “No, not really. Is that bad?”

Sam seemed to brighten a little as he noticed her smile. “Not at all,” he shook his head. “Ya know, I think I’ve done enough research for tonight. Wanna watch a movie?” He nodded towards the paper advertisement on top of the TV broadcasting that the motel offered HBO.

Y/N nodded with a wide grin as she looked up to meet his gaze. “I’d like that. Thanks, Sam.”

Before she realized what was happening, Sam scooped her face towards his, his thumb swept across her tear-stained cheek just under her eye. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat, her eyes widened as he closed the distance between their faces.

His lips were on hers before she could comprehend what was happening. He was gentle; his lips smooth against her own as they both relished in the sweetness of the moment. After another second, his lips moved carefully upon hers. And then the moment had passed and they broke away with a soft sound echoing in the silent motel room as their lips parted.

Without a word, they crawled into Y/N’s bed together where Sam sat against the headboard and pulled her into his side. She curled there while he channel surfed, her head spinning like the teacups at Disneyland. She still blamed the whiskey.

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural ff #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn ff

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