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janaispunk · 21 hours

Text

just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you.

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him.

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it.

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back.

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in.

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly.

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down.

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice.

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play.

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last.

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before.

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV.

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face.

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel.

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest.

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside.

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it.

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second.

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager.

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore.

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?”

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body.

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like.

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago.

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs.

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips.

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features.

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat.

“Yeah no, I– just a second.”

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright.

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what.

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of.

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip.

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed.

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you.

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books.

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to.

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves.

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: safe and sound

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scoonsalicious · 3 days

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6.2 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.

Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.

Previously On...: 2.5k

A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was on his way!

After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.

It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.

And that meant something.

Right?

Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.

So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.

Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers.

Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.

“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”

Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.

She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”

Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.

Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.

“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.

Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.

Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable.

Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”

Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.

“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.

“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”

“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”

It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:

“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.

Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”

“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”

She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him.

“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest.

Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car.

“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”

Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”

Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”

Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.

“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”

Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”

Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared.

Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed.

“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing.

After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.

“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky.

Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.

“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”

Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.

Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”

Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”

“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.

They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.

Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.

Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”

“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…

Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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boyfiejay · 23 hours

Text

I love my girlfriend

PAIRING : Enhypen hyung line x female Youtuber! Reader

GENRE : fluff, bullet point

Warning : curse words, me rizzing up the reader😔

Word Count : 0.9k overall

Author's Note : this was long overdue☝🏻

Heeseung ☆

you're one of those underrated artists, that are underrated due to one sole reason

it's better to gatekeep a talented artist

yk the way some fans get sad that their favourites are now on everyone's fyp

yeah your fandom in a nutshell

they also thirst over you non stop

I mean you are stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, enchanting

just date me pookie

you used to be a youtuber before the music career fyi

imagine your fans' dilemma (dimension?) when you say out of nowhere that you have a bf

‘guys, my boyfriend sent me this :D’

and it's a silly picture of two cats or smtg

like your fans are fighting a fucking war on twt

and you are like cuddling with hee, listening to unreleased songs

you have no clue of what's going on

meanwhile heeseung…

he's ready to fight the war

posts a picture of you kissing his cheek on your insta story

he makes sure that only 1/4th of his face is visible

to keep his identity anonymous yk

…

your fans find his acc in 15 mins

he panics definitely 😭

tells you his innuendo after you wake up

and you're just like

‘yeah ok, sure’

WHY ARE YOU SO CHILL??

your boyfriend is getting deep fried on twt and you're like ‘el oh el’

dw your fans mean no harm

after a while they're like

‘they're cute tgt ig 😒’

Jay ☆

you're like a cooking channel

STAY W ME IK IT SOUNDS BASIC

you're like a blogger who blew up one day

because you're just soso pretty😻

alright anyways, your channel is focused around learning to cook

it's so chaotic sometimes

bcz you don't know shit about cooking

sorry if you do, let's pretend you don't >.<!!

you have almost killed yourself a dozen times

at some point people are like

‘??? how is she alive’

all thanks to your almost professional chef boyfriend

but no one has to know that ;)

anyways on like a milestone or something, you decide to cook blindfolded

bae you can barely cook with eyes open

your followers are concerned bro

like their blood pressure is rising by the minute

and like a holy light in the midst of the darkness

Jay stepped in, to save you from killing yourself fr this time

Your fans are seriously jumping around, squealing bcz he's just so soft and gentle to you :(((

but then they snap out and pretend to be angry

and you're like ‘meet my boyfie :3’

jk your fans love you two

like almost obsessed

also they're always sliding in Jay's dms

like I get it mans fine af but he's also taken

and also absolutely whipped for you 🤭

it's your world and we're just living in it…

Jake ☆

you are a gamer/streamer

your whole fan base is delusional

like so delusional, there are like hundreds and thousands of accounts claiming to be your bf/gf

but the iconic one ‘ynsboyfie’ is everywhere

like that acc is the most iconic thing in your lore

they are always there, no news of yours goes past them

always donating in your streams

and one day…

you forget to log in your priv acc

so your official acc has the comment

‘babe, you're so sweet ☹️🩷’

replying to ‘YNSBOYFIE’

???

oh your fans are livid

jokingly ofc

or maybe not

everyone on twt is like

‘who is this bitch???’

everyone hoping for his downfall

then you drop his pic

THE SWITCH UP IS INSANE

‘oh, oh, he's fiiine😏’

like I can't blame them, that's jake

but still they're supposed to be your fans

fucking snitches

my bae, pookum shmookum I would never

your fans love him

but also bully him calling him a lewser

hes so down bad he had a fan page for you

i dont blame him, i too would fangirl over you 😼

Sunghoon ☆

you're like a fitness channel

like those ones that have insane challenges

and your famous in people who have no interest in working out too

your face reveal went so viral, almost every single person knew your face

also your workouts (even tho deadly) always work so fast

people are in love with your figure and just you in general

you also upload mini vlogs once in a while

in these vlogs people noticed someone always being around you and in the back of the frame

at first they were like

‘obsessed fan😨’

but then they saw you laughing along with him in another clip

from the small clips, people couldn't see his face (bcz it's blurred) but omg the figure

the biceps, the buff and tall guy immediately steals everyone hearts

it's obvious from the clips that you're close with him

so naturally you are asked who he is and you just laugh

???

people are losing their minds woman

and you're just like ‘hehe’

they continue seeing him in your vlogs and in one clip you could see him putting his hands on your waist while you squat

you have no reaction to that

but twt…

he's getting dragged even though half of the people have no clue what's going on

you decide to take matter in your hands

and post this

with the caption ‘he's my boyfriend everyone :3’

the internet breaks

Sunghoon doesn't do his face reveal for a long time js bcz he doesn't feel like it yk

but when he does

good lord…

your fans love him

they also love how he glares at people who look at you the wrong way

you never notice that for some reason

127 notes · View notes

doctorbitchcrxft · 2 days

Text

Route 666 | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y, d e n i a l

Word Count: 4325

Series Rewrite Masterlist

After your conversation with Dean about why you couldn’t lose him, a nagging want was tugging on your heart.

Dean explained to you that the father of an “old friend” of his was killed last night. Your stomach dropped; knowing exactly what “old friend” meant.

Sam did, too. “By old friend you mean...?”

“A friend that's not new,” came Dean’s gruff response. His eyes never left the road.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” Sam deadpanned. “So her name's Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her.”

“Didn't I? Yeah, we went out.”

You felt like you could throw up.

“You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?” Sam commented.

“Am I speaking a language you're not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks,” Dean explained.

Sam pressed further, but you silently begged him to stop. You hoped his mind powers would kick in long enough to read the way your heart was begging for mercy in the backseat. “And...?”

Dean shrugged.

“Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably.

‘He told her.’ You were definitely going to throw up now.

“You told her. You told her the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything? Dean!” Sam was getting angrier by the second.

“Yeah, looks like,” Dean grumbled.

This job would undoubtedly be an incredibly painful one.

***

You saw a beautiful dark-skinned girl arguing with two older men in the newspaper office you and the boys had arrived at. You silently pleaded for it not to be Cassie. She was stunning; nothing but long legs and slender curves. Her dark hair curled tightly, framing her face beautifully. The girl sighed and turned around as the two men walked away from her. She seemed taken aback. “Dean.”

You recognized the fondness in her eyes; it was the same fondness you were beginning to look at Dean with.

‘Of course, she’s fucking gorgeous. Wouldn’t expect anything else from Dean,’ you thought.

“Hey, Cassie,” Dean grinned. The two stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat. “This is my brother, Sam, and this is my friend, (Y/N).”

You tried your best to smile at her; the girl had done nothing wrong. It was Dean you were beginning to get upset with.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” Dean said.

“Yeah. Me too,” Cassie muttered.

The two kept staring at each other.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, and Cassie seemed to snap out of it. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Let’s take this somewhere a bit more… private.”

***

Cassie took you back to her home and brought you a tray of tea and cups. “My mother’s in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

She gracefully poured some tea into a cup. “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?”

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” the young woman explained.

“A truck. Who was the driver?” Sam questioned.

Cassie handed cups of tea to each of you. You took one, thanking her as you did so. “He didn't talk about a driver,” she continued. “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

“Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?”

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car… leading right to the edge, where he went over.” The girl took a second to get her emotions back under control. “One set of tracks. His.”

“The first was a friend of your fathers?” Dean had discarded his cup on a side table. The sight almost made you smile; you knew tea was a bit too fancy for him.

“Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car.' “

“Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?”

Cassie shook her head.

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“When you say it aloud like that…” Cassie breathed deeply. “Listen, I'm a little skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffed. “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

‘Uh, oh,’ you thought, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“That was then.” Cassie and Dean stared at each other again. “I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you.”

A middle-aged woman entered the room. Cassie rushed to her. “Mom. Where have you been I was so…”

Cassie’s mom forced a smile. “I had no idea you’d invited friends over.”

“Mom, this is Dean, a… friend of mine from.... college. And his brother Sam and friend, (Y/N).”

“Well, I won't interrupt you.” Cassie’s mom went to leave the room.

“Mrs Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?” Dean stopped her.

The woman seemed slightly affronted. “I'm really not up for that right now.” She left the room, and Dean and Cassie continued to stare at each other.

***

The next day, Dean informed you of another killing that happened in a field beside the main road. Another one of Cassie’s father’s friends had been murdered. You met the beautiful woman who was bravely berating the mayor for not closing the main road; heavily suggesting there was a racist undertone behind the mayor’s motives. You admired the woman’s bravery, and wished you had those kinds of balls in certain situations. Had the circumstances been different, you probably would have been good friends with her.

You and the boys learned from a friend of the deceased that the town once was home to a family with an incredibly racist history. In fact, the big black truck the victims had described seeing was one that many black men disappeared in back in the 1960s. You and the boys walked away from the men you learned this information from and returned to the Impala.

“Truck,” Dean noted.

“Keeps coming up doesn't it?” Sam added.

“Yeah, kinda like the flying dutchman,” you continued.

“Yeah, that ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him,” the younger Winchester finished.

Dean nodded. “So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have all been black men,” noted Sam.

“I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family,” Dean suggested.

“Alright, well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I will.”

Sam stopped his brother before he could get down into the car. “Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing.”

‘Stop talking, Sam,’ you mentally pleaded.

“What other thing?” Dean asked.

“The serious, unfinished business?”

The older brother remained silent, and for that, you were thankful.

“Dean, what is going on between you two?” Sam huffed out a laugh.

Dean seemed uncomfortable, as were you. “Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said.”

“Really?” you said, unable to help yourself.

“Okay, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have.”

“Ah, look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

The younger brother smiled.

“Would you stop!”

Sam just kept staring and smiling.

“Blink or something!”

The brunet simply said, “You loved her.”

You nearly choked on your own spit as Dean grumbled and turned to the Impala.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her.” Sam paused a moment before realizing, “Oh, wow. She dumped you.”

“Get in the car. Get in the car!” Dean ordered you and Sam.

You refused to continue to let Dean have that effect on you. There was no room for feelings in this profession, and you would not let them get in the way of your friendship with Dean or Sam. The former dropped you and his brother off at the motel before speeding away to Cassie’s house. You and Sam decided to get takeout and have a carpet picnic in the brothers’ motel room.

You chowed down on fried rice while Sam eyed you curiously. “What?” you asked through a mouthful of rice.

“Nothing. You just seem off,” he replied.

“I don’t know, honestly. After… everything that’s happened, I—” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Nevermind. What’s your thoughts on this case?”

He gave you a bitchface at your change in the subject, but went along with it nonetheless. “I think our theory about the flying dutchman’s right. I’m just waiting for Dean to fill in the missing pieces.” He paused before continuing. “Speaking of which, I don’t think he’ll be back for the night? You wanna crash here?”

You smiled. “Sure. Wanna get some cheap tequila and ride the bus?”

“You’re on,” he grinned back.

The two of you played with your deck of cards for a bit, joking and laughing about previous hunts and memories from Sam’s school days. After getting thoroughly hammered from your card game, you just talked for hours.

“My parents weren’t always… crazy supportive of me,” you explained. “I get your whole thing with college, though.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “I wanted to go to school as a teenager, actually. Was dead set on it.”

He grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah, but after my parents passed, I decided I’m better at hunting,” you replied, flopping back on the ground. “You’re hella argumentative. You’d be an exceptional lawyer.”

He chuckled at you, slurring his words together. “You really think so?”

“Yeah! Duh!”

“You’re not ever this giddy, (Y/N), how much did we drink?”

The two of you looked over at the mostly empty bottle of tequila before exploding into a fit of giggles.

“I don’t think I’ve been this drunk ever,” you slurred.

“Yeah, ne meither,” Sam said simply.

You burst out laughing again. “Ne meither?!”

“Oops,” he giggled boyishly.

“Wait, wait, wait. I have a question. You went to school with a full ride, right? How’d you get a full ride and hunt at the same time? That’s fucking crazy.”

He nodded. “Yeah. My dad took me on hunts every once in a while between AP Bio tests.”

“Holy shit, you’re smart.”

He sighed. “Not as smart as you’d think.”

“Cut the humble crap, you’re crazy smart,” you replied, turning to him. “You give me a run for my money sometimes. Trust me, that’s rare.”

He shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”

“Seriously, dude. You gotta be crazy gifted. You’re a great hunter and really smart. That’s a wild combination.”

“Yeah, well, so are you,” Sam replied.

You grinned, barely holding your eyes open. “Thanks.” You paused a moment. “You ever smoked weed?”

He snorted. “Of course.”

You mock-gasped. “Sammy, never thought you were the type!”

“Pfft, I’m not a total prude, (Y/N).”

“Well, forgive me, you don’t exactly scream ‘I chase my tequila with mary jane,’ “ you jested.

“College, man. Whole new world.”

“What was it like?” you asked.

“Meh,” he squeaked, voice breaking drunkenly. “Lots of studying. Jess was the one who got me into partying a little.”

“Yeahhh, Jess!” you cheered. “She sounds cool as fuck.”

“She was.” He suddenly got sad and sniffed a little.

You crawled over to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring bad shit up for you.”

He sniffed again and shrugged. “‘S okay, I jus’ miss her.”

“I know.” You laid your head on his shoulder and let him cry as the two of you sat next to each other in silence.

***

The next morning and thoroughly hungover, you and Sam headed to yet another field; where this time, the mayor’s car had been found. And it was in a different location than the main road. Dean met you a short time later once you’d finished talking to a cop on the scene.

“Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the hotel,” Sam questioned, although the subtle smirk on his face told you he already knew the answer.

“Well…”

Sam grinned smugly. “I'm guessing you guys worked things out?”

“We'll be working things out when we're ninety. So what happened?”

“We got really drunk,” you muttered.

“What?” Dean looked down at you.

Sam shook his head. “Every bone crushed. Internal organ's turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over.”

“Something like a truck?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded and explained there had been no tracks. He went on to say that the mayor had bought the property he was murdered on a few weeks ago; which was odd given he was white and found off the main road.

Cassie and Dean were considerably more chummy after their eventful evening, and it made your stomach turn a little. He insisted on being dropped off at the newspaper office Cassie worked at while you and Sam did research on the property the mayor had purchased at the library.

You discovered the mayor’s land was where the Dorian family had lived for over one hundred years. Apparently, their incredibly racist and firebrand son had disappeared just after the string of murders back in the 1960s. Cassie explained how the Dorians owned pretty much everything in the town before Cyrus, their son, disappeared. Weeks after the mayor bought the property, he knocked the house down. The very next day, the first killing started.

***

Amidst your throbbing headache and the research you'd done, you parted ways with the brothers to rest in your motel room. You settled on reorganizing your duffel bag to keep your mind occupied, but it still wandered to Dean and Cassie. You knew you'd been cold to Dean all day, and you just hoped he was too preoccupied with his fling to even notice.

Of course, that was simply wishful thinking. A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts.

Dean opened the door a moment later and stepped into your room wordlessly. He began to pace a little.

"Are... you okay—?" you started to ask, but he cut you off.

"What's your deal?"

"What?" you pretended to be dumbfounded.

"I caught what you said about getting drunk with Sam last night. Did you... fuck my brother?" he asked, voice teetering on rageful.

"God, no, Winchester," you scoffed. "Not everyone's intentions are sexual 24/7. We literally just played a drinking game and talked."

"Then, what's with your fucking attitude? You've been a bitch to me all day," he replied, shoulders tense.

"Have not, first of all," you began. "Trust me, if I was upset with you, you'd know about it."

"What, then? Is this about Cassie?" he questioned pointedly, staring you down.

"Dean, has it occured to you that not everything has to do with you?" you spat, becoming incredibly defensive. "I'm pissy because I'm hungover. And right now, you are making my headache a thousand times worse."

"Sorry that I was concerned about you, then," he responded flippantly.

"You weren't concerned," you laughed coldly. "You came here looking for a fight. Well, now you've got one. I like Cassie a lot, actually. Different circumstances, we'd be good friends. What I don't like is how unprofessionally you're acting."

"We fucking hunt monsters for a living, (Y/N)," Dean argued. "There's not exactly a code of ethics."

"Well, you should have some desire to conduct yourself in a professional manner. Because your main motivation on every fucking hunt doesn't seem to be hunting, it seems to be getting your dick wet," you berated, even though you knew your words were not reflective of your true thoughts of him.

"Sorry that I'm not a stuck-up bitch like you are," Dean scoffed. "You are completely miserable to be around. You always have something to be angry about. Don't you ever get tired of sucking the life outta everyone?"

You cut your eyes at him harshly, rage boiling under your skin. "Get the fuck out of my room, Winchester," you said evenly.

When he didn't move, it just added to your anger.

"I said get the fuck out!"

***

You and the Winchesters were called to Cassie’s house later that evening when she’d called Dean in a panic about the truck appearing outside of her home. You hated the way Dean sat with his arm protectively around Cassie, especially after your incredibly awkward car ride to her house where he couldn't seem to bare looking at you. He acted like you weren't in the backseat at all.

You handed Cassie a cup of tea, which she took with shaky hands. “Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that.”

You snorted. “You didn’t see who was driving the truck?”

“It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?” Cassie questioned.

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean grumbled.

Sam turned to Cassie’s mother. “Mrs Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.”

The older woman was shaking, pulled away from reality into her own thoughts. When her daughter’s voice brought her back to earth, Mrs. Robinson began to explain. “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well, after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Okay? Your daughter could die.” You knew Dean cared about her, and selfishly, you wanted him to be that worried about you; not her. “So if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

Cassie went to silence Dean, but Mrs. Robinson took in a shaky breath. “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” you asked her.

“He thought he did,” she nodded. She began to get upset. “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

“Cyrus Dorian?” you questioned.

“Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

Now, you had her. “The paper said he went missing, Mrs. Robinson. How do you know he died?”

She refused to answer.

“Mrs. Robinson, please,” you urged.

She began to talk again, getting visibly more upset. “We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while; I was also seeing Martin. In secret of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he… changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murders,” Sam noted.

You saw tears forming at the edges of the woman’s eyes. “There were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and a... Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention.”

“And Cyrus?” Dean prompted.

“The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died.” Mrs. Robinson clapped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asked softly.

She shook her head as she continued to sob. “No! There was one more. One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn't you call the cops?” Dean questioned.

Mrs. Robinson looked at Dean like he was crazy. “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land, and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam said.

“And so is Mayor Todd. Now, he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?” Dean asked.

“He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he— he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

Cassie spoke up for the first time in a while. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect.” She put her head down in her hands.

“Yes, there is,” Dean said, looking down at Cassie. Mrs. Robinson looked at her daughter as well before breaking down crying once more.

You and Sam left the home shortly after to get to work on finding the truck and disposing of it. Dean paced in front of you, waiting for Cassie to come bid you goodbye. You leaned against the Impala, picking at imaginary dirt under your nails. You just needed something to focus on that wasn’t Dean and your jealousy.

“Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms,” Sam spoke up next to you.

“So I guess we saved you from a boring existence,” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring,” he grinned down at you.

“So, this killer truck—” Dean began before getting cut off by his brother.

“I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'.”

Dean laughed a little. “Well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam questioned.

“The construction on his house,” you shrugged. “Or, rather, destruction.”

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless.”

Dean hummed. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved.”

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway.”

“You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?"

Dean grinned, and you smirked despite the swirling emotions inside you. You hated how easily those green eyes and freckles could make any negative feelings you had dissipate.

“Man,” Sam groaned.

“You said it,” Dean continued to grin.

Cassie approached your group from her house, and Dean turned to face her.

“Hey. She's asleep. Now what?” she asked Dean.

“Well, you should stay put and look after her, and we'll be back. Don't leave the house.” Dean held up a finger at her, standing way too close to her for your liking.

“Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it,” she said seductively.

Dean glanced behind himself to you and Sam. You both averted your eyes while you held back the bile rising in your throat.

“Don't leave the house, please?” Dean mumbled. Suddenly, the two were kissing. You looked up at them and leaned over to Sam.

“It’s like watching a car crash,” you whispered. “With, like, kids burning in the backseat.”

Sam laughed at you and cleared his throat. Dean simply held up a finger back to you, urging you to “wait a minute.”

“You comin' or what?” Dean awkwardly rubbed his neck after he pulled away from Cassie, and you envied her ability to make Dean blush the way she had.

The drive to the Dorian property largely consisted of Sam teasing Dean about Cassie while you said nothing. Dean used a tractor that was on the property from the construction to pull the submerged truck out of the water.

Sam continued to tease Dean about how he was definitely still in love with Cassie while you continued to focus on your work. You doused the corpse in Cyrus’s truck once you’d gotten it on the ground with kerosene and watched as it burned.

“All business tonight, huh, (Y/N)?” Dean taunted, still clearly upset with you.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not particularly interested in who or what you choose to put your dick in,” you responded coldly.

“Hey!—”

You turned to him, eyes hard. “Seriously. Let’s focus, please.”

Sam eyed you curiously while you continued to watch the corpse burn. Suddenly, the truck appeared behind you and the brothers, revving its engine.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” Sam questioned, panicked.

“I guess not,” you shrugged.

“Sure it did. Now it's really pissed,” Dean snarked.

“Great! He’s fused with the fucking truck,” you huffed. “Where are you going?” Dean was retreating to his car.

“Goin' for a little ride,” he responded.

“What?!”

“Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap: you gotta burn it.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” you argued.

“I don't know. Figure something out.” He threw the duffel bag in the trunk at you before getting in and taking off.

“What the f—” you watched his retreating form.

“You sure you’re okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked you. “You seem pretty on edge.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, dude, let’s focus.” You thought for a moment before getting an idea.

“Hey, you gotta give me a minute,” Sam said to his brother who had called him. “Let me get back to you.” He hung up.

You turned to Sam. “The church where Cyrus butchered those kids.”

He grinned. “Hallowed ground. That should work!” He called Cassie and had her tell him where the church had once stood.

Sam then called his panicking brother back and instructed him on exactly how far to drive to hopefully demolish the ghost. “Dean. You still there? Dean?”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his brother spoke to him again. “Dean, you're where the church was. The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids. Church ground is hallowed ground; whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so we figured, maybe that would get rid of it.”

Even though he wasn’t on speaker, you could hear Dean’s panic. “Maybe? Maybe! What if you were wrong?”

Sam smirked. “Huh. Honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me.”

***

You didn't make it back to the motel until almost two in the morning. Dean was still completely ignoring your existence, and he was beginning to follow Sam into their room. You stopped him just before he could.

"Dean, wait," you called out after him, resolve breaking.

"What," he almost growled, turning back to you.

"Can we talk?" you asked, eyes pleading.

Dean didn't say anything in response for a moment, and you held your breath while you waited for him to talk. Finally, he nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry," you said earnestly. "For everything that I said earlier."

He nodded. "I am, too. You're not completely misreable to be around. Only sometimes when you get bitchy." You could see the slight smirk on his face illuminated by the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. "You can never take anhthing seriously, huh?"

"Hey, this is a chick-flick-moment-free zone."

"Seriously," you laughed, "I didn't mean what I said at all. You're... actually amazing. As a hunter, I mean," you quickly corrected yourself. "I know your first priority on hunts isn't sex."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Eh, you weren't one-hundred-percent wrong. Sorry about that."

You shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. Who or what you choose to fornicate with is your business. Even if it is the Magic Fingers machines at those nasty ass motels." A smile tugged on your lips.

He chuckled. "Well, anyway... goodnight, sweetheart." Dean turned on his heel and walked away from you, leaving you in the parking lot with a pounding heart and butterfly-filled stomach.

***

The next day, you and the brothers were leaving town. You and Sam waited in the car while Dean stood talking to Cassie. You, once again, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the horror show in front of you. He kissed her deeply before climbing down into the car. You had never been so thankful to leave a town in your rearview mirror.

The car had been mostly silent for the last thirty minutes before Sam broke it. “I like her.”

Dean grumbled, “Yeah,” in response.

“You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?”

You watched Dean with bated breath, waiting anxiously for his answer. Instead of replying, he just took out his sunglasses and smiled. “Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?” He slouched against the window and sighed.

You shook your head and looked back out of your window, mulling over everything you’d felt during your time in Columbus. You knew feelings were not allowed in your line of work; certainly not relationships. You refused to let them interfere with your job any longer, and convinced yourself you would be perfectly content with Dean just being your friend.

After all, you'd already made it incredibly apparent that he was too much of a playboy for you. You would never be able to stomach a relationship with him because of how jealous of a person you were. And so, you decided that as long as you were with the boys, you would never, ever date Dean Winchester.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog

quite a few tags are broken :( sorry lovebugs!!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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velvetchrry · 3 days

Text

━━━━ PRETTY LITTLE BIRDS (2)

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

2k. you play darts.

You can feel a warmth in your cheeks as you follow closely behind Simon. He parts the crowd easily, and you notice multiple pairs of eyes on you as you walk by. You do a small smile and wave to the table of your coworkers, most of them looking at you bug eyed. The girl who approached him earlier has her jaw on the floor. Hopefully she doesn’t take it personally.

He stops when he approaches the table he was sitting at earlier. “This is Johnny, Gaz and Price.” You smile at them and give a soft hello. Simon tells them your first name, and you assume he knew it from your badge the other day.

“Aye, Doc!” Johnny exclaims. His energy is contagious and you can’t help but return his smile.

“Nice to see you again, how’s the knee holding up?”

“Ach, fine. No issue,” he swats his hand, as if to swat your concern away.

“I’m not actually a doctor, y’know,” you add softly.

He shrugs his shoulders and Simon pulls out a chair for you to sit on, thanking him as you do. He silently walks the short distance to the dartboards and starts talking to a group of guys standing there.

“So, LT invite ye to our dart game?” Johnny asks, pulling your attention from Simon’s broad back.

“Oh, I don’t mean to impose on you guys…”

“Nonsense,” Johnny cuts you off, again waving his hand in the air. “Cap’s leavin’ anyway, so we could use a fourth.”

Simon walks back over to the table and places his hand on the back of your chair. You almost shiver as his fingers make contact with your back, knuckles brushing the fabric of your shirt. “Board’s ours.”

Johnny gets up and claps his hands together. “Let’s do this. Gaz, on me. Doc with Simon.”

Simon offers a hand to you and you use it to help yourself stand up. Price stands up, downs the rest of his whiskey and bids everyone a goodnight. The four of you do the same. “Don’t have too much fun you lot,” he calls out behind him as he walks toward the door.

The ghost of Simon’s fingers trail on your lower back as the group makes its way to the dartboards. The guys Simon talked to earlier clear out when they see your companions and Simon nods at them in return. Johnny pulls the darts out of the board as a waitress stops by to grab your drink order.

“Round a Jamo shots,” Gaz says to the waitress. Johnny laughs as he walks back to the table — darts in hand — noticing that you pulled a face. “Not a fan, bonnie?”

“Erm, not entirely… what about a compromise? Picklebacks?!” you suggest.

“Dinnae know what that is,” he admits. Gaz shakes his head. Simon stays behind you, silent. Observing.

“Shot of Jameson, followed by a chaser of pickle juice.”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to pull a face. “Alright lass, if that's what ya want.” He nods to the waitress and she makes her way back to the bar. Johnny and Gaz argue over which game to play while you and Simon settle up to the high top. It’s chairless, like the rest of the high tops at the bar. Simon’s broad leg brushes against yours.

“So, how long you been working on base for?”

“Not long,” you admit. “A few months now.”

“Mmm. What convinced ya to join up?”

“My grandpa actually. He was medic and I would beg him to tell me his stories growing up… when I finished P.A. school, this job kind of fell into my lap and well… I took it as a sign.”

Johnny dumped the red set of darts in front of you and Simon when he walked back to the table. Gaz was firmly clutching the blue set in his hands. Right on cue, the waitress brings by four shots of Jameson and another four shot glasses full of pickle juice on a serving tray and places each in front of everyone. You bite your lower lip and try to look at Simon from your periphery. Is he gonna take off the mask?

“Cheers,” Gaz holds up his Jameson shot and Johnny follows. You join in, Jameson in one hand and pickle juice in the other. Simon lifts his large hand, the shot of Jameson engulfed in it, and you all clink glasses. Simon's hand brushes up against you, and you feel a spark run through your fingertips down to your toes. You visibly shiver from the minimal contact. What am I? A nun?!

You tap the bottom of your Jameson shot on the table before taking both the Jameson and then the pickle juice back in one breath hold. Johnny hoots in approval before him and Gaz take both shots right after. “Good call bonnie, kills the burn right off.”

When Simon lifts the bottom of his mask up from his chin and takes both shots, you swear you really must be a nun with how little of his face showing suddenly soaks your panties through. You see the strong outline of his jaw, and a very old, muted scar that runs slanted down his chin. A smattering of blonde 5 o’clock shadow is the last thing you notice before he pulls his mask back down. You quickly look away before someone can notice you drooling.

“Gaz, you’re up,” Johnny announces.

•·················•·················•

You have a tell when you’re about to shoot. You do this little side to side sway with you hips that Simon can’t help but watch. The soft noises you make after each throw that have him wondering if he can provoke those same sounds from you in bed.

He noticed you studying him with the mask pulled up from under his chin, your shiver as he brushed his hand against yours. Touch starved little bird.

He imagines what he could make you do with the promise of seeing all of him. Wonders if you would let him mark you as his, teeth meeting soft pillowy flesh.

He isn’t sure why you haven't asked about the mask yet. He’s never met a woman interested in him who hasn’t. He’s sure you’re curious — and it’s clear you were trying to get a peek of him earlier from the corner of your eye — but here you are, respecting that it’s just a part of him. That alone serves to make him a little hard.

Simon holds his breath when you stand too close to him. Your perfume threatens to send him over the edge, a soft floral and citrusy scent that has his muscles tightening.

You’re shit at darts. Absolutely horrible — although you do get a few lucky shots in every once in a while. He wants to teach you — the rough pads of his fingers caressing your silky smooth center while he breathes in your ear how to shoot. He wants you dripping down his fingers as you aim the dart, wiggling your hips just slightly before you throw it, him slipping two fingers inside of you and…

“It's your turn, Simon!” you exclaim, slight buzz coloring your cheeks as you hand the darts to him.

Fuck. He’s got a massive hard on right now. No way he can come out from behind the table.

“You take my turn for me, dove.”

“Wha.. really?! But… you’re the only reason we have a shot at winning.”

It’s true, Simon hasn’t missed a single shot all night. Not that Gaz and Soap aren't sharpshooters, but their talent has an inverse relationship with the amount of booze they consume, and right now the two of them combined are about neck and neck with the two of you.

“Absolutely. You got this.”

His praise warms your cheeks even further. He’s happy you haven’t drank much, unlike Gaz and Johnny. You’re still aware, cognizant. He doesn’t want to lose you to a drunken stupor, even though he’d be happy to hold your hair and then punish you for it in the morning with a few good spanks.

After a few lucky shots from you, he hears Gaz and Johnny moan something about hustling the two of them. Johnny pats you on the shoulder as you pass him and head straight for the table with Simon.

“Good work little dove.”

You beam, but blow it off by shrugging your shoulders before bumping one against his arm. “I have a good partner.”

Johnny and Gaz come up to the table. “Who’s up for ‘nother round? Ay, what were those shots we took earlier Doc?” Gaz asks.

Simon watches you closely as you put your small hands up and wave them around in front of your face. “Oh… no more shots for me, thank you.”

Gaz and Johnny both groan but Simon cuts them a look that has them backing off. “We’re gonna grab a quick one at the bar then, be right back,” Johnny says, practically pulling Gaz with him.

“Alright?” Simon asks you once they've left.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. This is… fun. I haven’t had much lately.”

Simon’s fingertips trace the wood grain of the table. “Why not?”

You shrug. “Self inflicted, really. Once I moved here, I didn’t know anyone and I didn’t exactly force myself to go out. Plus, I went on one really terrible date the first week I was here. After that, I figured I would just take the time to get my bearings first.”

Simon chuckles a little. “How terrible?”

You sigh slightly. “Well… to be honest… he was dreadfully boring and self absorbed. Some guy who works in… finance?” You waved one of your hands around. “He only talked about himself and how good he was at his job, then when we were about to leave he asked if he could ‘pencil me in’,” you make air quotations with your fingers “for a lunch date back on base. I lied and told him lunches are too hard for me to get away and have been avoiding him ever since.”

“Wait, he works on base? A suit?”

You shrug your shoulders, not knowing his terminology. “Lucky for me, we must not work near each other, otherwise he’d see I take most of my lunches outside under the trees by the track.”

You couldn’t know this, but Simon makes a mental checklist in his head to not only see if he can figure out who this suit is, but to scope the trees near the running track on Monday. He can’t have his little bird in harm’s way. He can only imagine which soldier’s eyes you’ve caught while sitting and enjoying your lunch. That track gets a fair amount of use considering there are more people stationed on base than there is room in the gym, and spring has just rolled around.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon mutters under his breath. You whip your head in his direction in time to see Johnny trying to stand on the bar, shirtless, and to the dismay of the bartenders. Gaz is cheering him on. Simon spins off the table and walks to the bar with swift intent. He barks something you can't hear at Johnny, who’s color drains from his face and gets down from the bartop. Simon flicks him on the nose and you can hear Johnny yelp. Gaz looks terrified in the corner. He drags both of them by the ear back to the high top.

“Should get these two idiots home. Let me give you a ride to your flat.”

You shake your head. “That’s okay, thank you though.”

Now it’s Simon’s turn to shake his head. “Look, your friends are gone. Let me give you a ride home so I know you make it safe.”

“Please hen, maybe he’ll take it easy on us if ye ride wit!” Johnny pleads and his brow scrunches more after he speaks, Simon pinching down harder on his ear.

Simon hears your hearty laugh before you turn around and notice that indeed your coworkers have all left for the evening. “Almost bar close, anway,” Simon adds.

You bite that damn lip again and look around for a second before speaking. “Well if you’re sure…”

#call of duty #simon ghost x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod x reader #my work #pretty little birds

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anexperimentallife · 2 days

Text

So you want leftist candidates? Here's how you get them:

First off, you have to understand that the far right didn't just wake up one day and say, "We should fuck up the country!" They have been OPENLY working for decades to fill literally every elected or appointed government position they could with Christian Dominionists and other right-wingers, and these folks show up to the polls EVERY SINGLE TIME.

When I was a kid in a far right church in the 1960s, they openly discussed how important is was to get their people into office who would help pass legislation to persecute/imprison/kill anyone who didn't follow their religion. If there's no one sufficiently right-wing running, they'll vote for whomever is closest, even if it gags them. And I cannot emphasize enough that they have long term goals that they are willing to take--and HAVE taken--generations to achieve.

The overturning of Roe v. Wade, for example, is a DIRECT RESULT of the decades-long effort by the far right to boost the most far-right-leaning candidates they could find. They've been talking for decades SPECIFICALLY about getting enough far right judges in SCOTUS to overturn Roe v. Wade. And these SCOTUS appointments are for LIFE, so these judges get to set policy for your GRANDCHILDREN.

So yes, the overturning of Roe v. Wade was only made possible because Trump was able to appoint three SCOTUS judges, in addition to all the other federal judges he appointed. Amd they're talking about going after same-sex marriage, minority rights, etc.

(Hell, the judge in charge of his secret documents case is one that he appointed--she has indefinitely postponed that case,by the way.)

And you don't think local school board elections are important? Have you not seen the news about all the anti-queer policies, and all the book-bannings? This, also, has a generational effect.

Meanwhile the left refuses to turn up to the polls because none of the candidates are pure enough. So guess why things are getting worse?

If the Left turned out for the most left-leaning candidate at EVERY SINGLE ELECTION, whether local or state or whatever, including primaries, we'd start seeing more leftist candidates. Yes, that means that if there's a choice between two extreme right wing candidates, you vote for the least extreme one.

I know I keep emphasizing that this is not just about POTUS, but POTUS does figure in, of course (among other things, who do you think appoints judges for congress to approve?).

So swallow this pill: Anything shitty Biden is doing, the shitgibbon will do MORE of.

"Not gonna vote Biden because he supports genocide, so I'd rather the guy win who ALSO supports genocide, wants Russia to invade more countries, thinks it's fine if China retakes Taiwan, wants a nationwide abortion ban, removal of civil rights for minorities, wants to overturn same-sex marriage (which the right-leaning majority in SCOTUS are already talking about), to cut back the role of congress in checking executive actions (including workarounds to avoid the need for congressional confirmation for presidential appointees), to remove federal employee protections so federal personnel can be replaced with Trump loyalists, and so on! That'll teach those Dems a lesson! THEN they'll be sorry. And fuck everyone the bad guys hurt, because I'll still be PURE. So what if top GOP officials want to actually NUKE Gaza?"

That's fucking kindergartner thinking.

Yes, Biden is a piece of shit, but I am not waxing at all hyperbolic when I say that a second orange shitgibbon term, with a far-right-majority SCOTUS--especially if the GOP manages majorities in both houses of congress--may be the end of what little is left of Democracy in the US. Not gonna argue about it, because I don't waste my time with petulant children.

Look at the GOP's plans for a Republican administration, and tell me you think it sounds better than another term of Biden. Hell, they've even set up online trainings and loyalty tests to narrow down potential federal hires to those who will commit to follow Trump without question.

I repeat: If you want more leftist candidates, if you want more worker power, if you want billionaires taxed, if you want to protect minorities and the queer community, you have to adopt the strategy that the right has used, educate yourself about what candidates stand for, and show up EVERY SINGLE TIME. Again, that includes primaries.

So many of us on the left would rather sit in the basement dreaming of some magical revolution that's going to fix everything, giving ourselves and others purity tests, and proudly announcing that we're... boycotting democracy by not voting(?), "because none of the candidates are a good choice."

Yeah, the left refusing to vote--or only voting in presidential elections--while the right turns up every time is exactly how we got here.

And you have to support the most left-leaning candidate even if it makes you gag, and even if "most left-leaning" means "not as openly fascist." This is the ONLY way you can be assured of candidates getting further to the left in the future. (Note that this means learning about your local candidates.)

"But voting won't fix--" I never said it was going to fix everything. There's no rule that if you vote, you can't volunteer with Food Not Bombs, or run for school board, or demonstrate, or circulate petitions. It takes more than voting, but voting has to be PART of our strategy.

You also have to accept that it may take decades to change course, and that you're not going to like every candidate you have to vote for.

The right didn't just magically get the orange shitgibbon into office overnight. It took decades of work. And if we want decent human beings in charge, we have to be willing to do the same.

#rob gets political

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eddiesghxst · 17 hours

Note

enemies to lovers rafe who get in an argument with you at a party and makes you cry cos your drunk and he always thought it would bring some satisfaction seeing you cry but just has this really bad gut feeling the rest of the night and all the rest of the next day (suffering from hanxiety not fun trust) and gets up and buys a bunch of followers and leaves them at your door while watching you pick up the note on them from his car

"grow some balls next time but sorry" and smiles when you dont throw to the ground and head back into your house

and later that night he gets a text message from you

"thanks you fucking asshole" *image attached*

and a week later as your throwing out the old flowers after they had wilted theirs a new set in the same spot.

me when he loves me but is mean to be and i love it :) -🎸

god like he’s trying, honestly he really is! he felt like shit after making you cry and rafe doesn’t know the first thing about forming the words “i’m sorry” on his tongue so… endless supply of flowers it is. he doesn’t even know if you like flowers. doesn’t know what your favorite one is or anything of that matter, but you haven’t told him to fuck off yet, so he just keeps sending them.

and then he stops by the cafe you work at and you’re there with puffy eyes and a sniffle and he’s like “you look like shit.”

“yeah well someone won’t stop sending me truck loads of fucking flowers in the middle of allergy season.”

and rafe just kind of stops, “…why didn’t you tell me?”

“well they’re pretty flowers…” you shrug

and oh my god you’re a fucking idiot…but you’re so sweet (annoyingly so), suffering a clogged nose and itchy eyes just because rafe sends you pretty flowers. rafe wants to laugh and tell you you’re cute, instead all that comes out is a twisted confused expression and “you’re dumb.”

whatever. either way, you wake up to a bouquet of hydrangeas and lilies with a handwritten note that says, “less pollen in these so maybe they won’t attempt to kill you.”

#he’s trying okay #but u make it easy to tease so #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rachie’s moots 🫧

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navybrat817 · 2 days

Note

Too early, Navy. I want cuddles with Stud.

I understand that feeling, nonnie.

A Bit Longer

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You need to get up, but Bucky wants to hold you for a bit longer. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, pet names, teasing, sugary sweetness, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I really need to stop with the cuddle ficlets, right? Eh. Stud and Smartie, deserve it. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s lips were the first thing you felt when you woke up, bringing a smile to your face. They grazed your shoulder as his arm tightened around your waist, keeping your back against his chest. It was a subtle way to say he wasn’t ready for you to leave the confines of your bed. Or maybe he was the one who didn’t want to leave yet.

Not that you blamed him. It was early. Maybe too early. Cuddling for a bit was always a good way to start the day, his embrace warmer than the thickest blanket. Sex also worked as a way to both wear you out and energize you to tackle the day.

Cuddle, hot sex, cuddle again. Wait, what time is it?

“Okay. We need to get up,” you croaked when you finally looked at the clock, trying in vain with a groan to break from his hold when he refused to move his arm or let you up. Any other morning, you’d wiggle back against him to give him a proper wake up call, but that wasn’t today. “I mean it. No time for sexy time. I need to make you breakfast. Feed the cats. You have to work. God, I need to look over my resume again. Work on wedding stuff. I also need to-”

The throaty chuckle beside you stopped your ramblings because how could it not? Why was his laughter so sexy? Why did his mere existence make you stop in your tracks? In what universe was that right or fair?

Actually, it’s fair because I get to marry him.

“First, there’s always time for sexy time. Two, you didn't say ‘good morning’. By the way, good morning,” he teased, turning your body to face him. “And three, hey, look at me. Let’s just stay in bed for another minute.”

Your eyes slipped shut because there would be no resisting if you stared into his. His gaze had a way of pulling you in so deeply some days you feared you'd drown. But if he ever robbed you of your ability to breathe, he’d find a way to give you air.

“Too much to do,” you muttered. You could feel the seconds slipping away and now wasn’t the time to lounge around. “And if I look at you, you’ll turn one minute into two and then three and then four and so on and so forth and such and what have you. I probably wasted a minute just saying that.”

You tried to back up a bit because no way did your breath smell pleasant and Bucky didn’t need that in his face. A hand moved to the back of your head to keep you still. He didn’t have to tell you that he didn’t care about things like morning breath. If he wanted to hold you close, he’d do just that.

No exceptions.

He chuckled again before his lips brushed your eyelids and skimmed down your cheeks. “I just want you to stay here so I can hold you for a bit longer. Is that too much to ask?”

Well, when you put it like that…

You swallowed hard when he kissed the corner of your mouth, your heart skipping a beat. You were certain an embarrassing sort of whimper slipped out when he brought his lips to the other side. He wasn't rushing or demanding anything from you or trying to turn you on. He just wanted to be there with you.

So many believed that intimacy was just sex when it was much more. It was the feeling of being close and emotionally connected. It was familiarity and even friendship. You liked Bucky from the start, but the two of you were able to build a foundation by getting to know each other. It allowed you to bond on many levels, which only grew stronger once you two became a couple.

He showed you once again, without words, that he was your other half.

“I can feel you thinking, Smartie,” he whispered, his lips trailing back to your forehead.

“Just thinking of us, Stud,” you admitted, pressing your body closer to feel his chest against yours. You breathed him into your lungs and wondered if he knew how addictive he was. Savoring the moment, you allowed yourself to stay tangled up in him before you had to face the day.

His hand moving up and down your side nearly lulled you back to sleep. “You thinking about how you drive me crazy?”

What?

“I drive you crazy?!” You asked, realizing your mistake the moment your eyes flew open. A sea of blue stared back at you and you were too late to stop yourself from taking the plunge. Your gaze didn't have to drift down to know that he was wearing a triumphant smirk. “You made me open my eyes.”

“I sure did,” he smiled.

Well played, Stud. Well played.

The things you had to do seemed almost insignificant as you looked at each other. A minute went by as you listened to the beat of his heart and made no attempt to get up. The tips of your fingers brushed along the scruff on his chin as another minute ticked by and you reveled in the sigh he gave you in return.

Is this what living in the moment means?

“Will it always be like this?” You asked.

“Always like what?”

“You wanting to stay in bed with me a bit longer, even if we both have stuff to do.”

With a kiss to the tip of your nose and one against your smiling lips, he smiled back. “Always.”

Logically, you knew every morning couldn't be this way since life wasn't a fairy tale. The romantic part of you though, the one he helped bring to life, believed the two of you would continue to write your story together and make your own rules. If that meant the two of you cuddled in bed for a few more minutes, you’d happily help him write that chapter.

And every chapter after that.

Where do I get a man like this? 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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reallyromealone · 3 days

Note

Reader and sephiroth having people wanting to hook up/set up their sons with their children.

Title: courting

Fandom: final fantasy

Characters: kadaj, loz, Yazoo, sephiroth

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: sephiroth x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, fluff, Omega male reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Was proud of his sons, the three teens always making them proud and doing the best they could while being kind young alphas.

"I swear if I see one more courting letter I'm gonna scream" (name) grumbled as he and sephiroth retired for the night, the Alpha letting (name) put his very long hair in a thigh high sock for the night as the silver haired man sat on (name)s vanity stool "they're 15! They can't even drive let alone worry about marriage and mating marks" (name) huffed as sephiroth turned to pull (name) into his lap, kissing (name)s scent gland as he rubbed his sides "don't worry to much my love, I'll make sure it's all handled"

(Name) Grumbled but let his husband lift him and carry him to bed, the Alpha wearing silk pajama pants and (name) wearing the alphas top and a pair of loose shorts from when they were in highschool. Sephiroth crawled on top of him and kissed him sweetly "I just-- they're already at the age where people ask for courting! Well people did when they were little but now it's even worse!" (Name) Whined as sephiroth rumbled and pumped soothing pharamones "I'm not ready for it to be an empty nest..." (Name)s voice was watery and sephiroth calmed him "what do you want me to do?" Sephiroth asked earnestly to his mate who shrugged "... Would it be selfish to want another pup?"

"You want another baby?" Sephiroth asked calmly and (name) nodded, the Alpha smiling softly and kissing him "guess it's time for you to get off the pill then"

Come morning (name) was far chipper with a slight limp and sephiroth was like a new man as the Alpha made breakfast, his mate sipping (drink) as he went through the mail that their housekeeper brought in for them, organizing them by person "good morning..." Loz grumbled as he plopped on the chair at the kitchen island, breakfasts were spent in the kitchen after all.

"Good morning, pup" (name) said softly as he handed the teen a few letters and Loz sleepily opened them as the other two wandered in and got their stacks of letters "ew..." Loz read the letter in disgust and (name) looked confused "the Sato family is telling me how their Omega is untouched and pure"

"She absolutely is not" Yazoo said back as he ate the breakfast their sure made them, (name) getting the mail back and reading them one by one angrily and sephiroth wanted to pull his hair out, having just gotten (name) calm and content "most of these are courting letters!" He seethed and the teens were also tired of it "I'll handle it" sephiroth said simply and the other four knee what that meant.

The following weeks, the courting letters dwindled and (name) wasn't sure what sephiroth did but it worked as the Omega prepared his nest, his sons staying at their uncles for the week and sephiroth would just smile at the Omega when (name) asked about it.

Well, whatever he did worked.

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little-diable · 3 days

Text

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by.

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to.

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats.

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest.

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.”

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by.

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs.

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then.

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme.

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church.

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground.

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.”

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint.

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him.

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes.

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue.

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by.

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment.

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know.

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind.

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n).

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment.

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n).

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space.

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap.

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit.

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish.

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.”

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety.

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.”

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls.

#Tom Riddle smut #priest fic #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle imagine

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wildemaven · 1 day

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first anniversary | dieter x poppy

A Sweet Creature

Ava Greene sits down with actor and friend, Dieter Bravo. Hollywood’s new leading man gets candid about life in front of and behind the camera. He talks about his latest movie, his commitment to his sobriety and his newest role— husband?!

Ava Greene: You're approaching three years sober now, how are you feeling?

Dieter Bravo: Probably the best I’ve felt in a long time. Sobriety is a day to day progression that I take very seriously, and I try to not lose sight of that even when I’m having bad days. Though, I’m grateful bad days have been few and far between at this point in my sobriety. I can attribute that to the support system I have built for myself through friends, family, my sponsor that I still work with and most importantly my wife who keeps me grounded daily. They all continue to keep me in check and remind me how awesome my life is, especially right now. Staying clean is a full time commitment, and it’s really a beautiful thing.

AG: You followed in your famous parents footsteps by going into acting and your career and struggles with sobriety have been well documented but your parents have rarely commented publicly, are they supportive of your work and your journey?

DB: For me, I don’t need them to make a show of it by commenting or sharing their thoughts publicly to know they support me. There was a point in time where they did all they could do for me, but ultimately it had to be my choice to make the decision to get clean. Thankfully, we’ve been rebuilding our relationship over the last few years. And being in the public eye for most of our lives, the last thing we want is for outsiders thinking they have a say in our lives. In short, yes I have very supportive parents in all aspects of my life and I’m so happy for that.

AG: This is your second project since rehab, are you viewing this as a comeback or a fresh start?

DB: Comeback? I didn’t know I left… Kidding! Sure, some might say it’s a comeback. A fresh start. Whatever analogy best fits the narrative is fine by me— and I don’t mean that negatively in any sense. I mean, you’ve known me long enough to know I just try not to focus on any of that stuff, messes with my fucking brain waves. I just see it as me doing what I love with a new perspective and a different approach to choosing what projects I’m going to give my time to than I have in the past.

AG: What can you tell us about this project and the character you're playing?

DB: I had the best f*ckin’ time while shooting this film— sorry, but the emphasis was needed. I was really drawn to the vibrancy that this script evoked, even with the serious nature of the storyline and characters. I couldn’t stop thinking or talking about for weeks afterwards. I’d sit with my wife at breakfast and we’d discuss the script and my character for what felt like hours. I knew after I heard her feedback that I needed to be apart of this film— she might have said I’d be stupid to say no to it, in her own loving way.

The film is really about the process of rediscovering yourself. Navigating the challenges that come along with being at your lowest point and leaning on the ones who have been there for you. It’s about finding love in its purest form when you never thought you were deserving of it.

I found bits of myself in this character as we were filming, it was very much a cathartic experience for me. I guess you could say it was art imitating life in a weird way.

AG: There's already been some buzz about this year's award season, do you think this is finally your year?

DB: Ooooh! Is it too presumptuous for me to say yes?! I’ve started dusting the spot where I plan for it to go. I sound like some sort of pompous idiot! Now no one is going to go see it!*

I take it back!

In all seriousness, ‘cause I’m sure Poppy and my agent will be rolling their eyes when they read this. If all I get is a couple nominations, that alone feels like winning. A shiny statue would be nice though— just saying.

AG: You've talked often about your love of art and you recently purchased a gallery. Are you planning to publicly pursue other creative endeavors?

DB: I won’t be joining American Idol anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking. Oh, you weren’t referring to my ability to hold a note during our many karaoke nights— noted!

How did you put it? Other creative endeavors? I’ve got a few art pieces in the works right now that I’m itching to dive back into when I get home. I’ve got a major gallery in LA lined up later in the year for an artist spotlight exhibit, they’ll be housing some of my work through the next year. Shoutout to my wife for getting that all lined up while I was away shooting this film.

AG: What's next for Dieter Bravo? Any other projects lined up you can tell us about?

DB: I’m looking forward to some downtime I have coming up. Poppy has the summer off, so we’ll get to finally live that newlywed life. Settle into the role of doting husband while she does her thing at the gallery.

AG: Off the record, if you got married and didn't tell anyone I will kick yours and Poppy’s ass!

DB: We’re celebrating our one year this month actually. We eloped quietly last year right after we got engaged— wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while. Which reminds me, you and Bryony should hop on a call with Poppy after this. Seeing as I let the cat out of the bag and this is our announcement— surprise!

Huge shoutout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for allowing me to borrow her Ava from Conversations with a Movie Star for this. Ava was so gracious and even wrote the questions herself. I’m so grateful for Lellen and all her support and advice she had given me throughout the writing process of Sweet Creature!

Sweet Creature Celebration

#dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #sweet creature series #sweet creature celebration #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal

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kpop---scenarios · 3 days

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Whiplash (6)

Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Sexually Suggestive Things, Language, Jealousy, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.2k

Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx @thicccurls @aznstoner @velvetmoonlght

“You're fucking psycho if you think I'll ever be back in this house again.” You spit. “Who are you? The San I knew would never have done this! Never would have drugged me!” You scream.

Felix and Hyunjin stare at you like they have just seen a ghost.

“I-I never drugged you!” He stuttered. “Are you sure your brain is working?” He laughs.

“There's no way I'd sleep for 12+ hours without you slipping something into my water. I knew it tasted funny!” You yell.

“You mother fucker!” Felix yells, lunging for San. Hyunjin grabs onto him, holding him back. He knows it won't do anyone any good for them to fight, especially you. As angry as he was right now, he knew he needed to do what was best for you and Felix getting into a fight with San would surely not be good for your recovery.

“If I see you out, you better watch your fucking back. I'm sick of you and your shit with Y/N. I swear to god if you touch her again ill fucking kill you.” Felix screams as Hyunjin pulls him outside, with you following closely behind.

Felix pulls himself out of Hyunjin’s grip, walking a little down the short walkway, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.

“I'm sorry.” you whisper. Felix turns around, he looks confused. Hyunjin stares at you in disbelief.

“Sorry for what?” Felix asks, walking closer to you.

“for everything. For believing San over you guys, for coming here, for just everything that I put you through the last little bit.” You cry.

“Listen to me.” Hyunjin starts. “You didn't put us through anything. HE put you and us through hell for his own sick enjoyment.” Hyunjin tells you. You can hear it in his voice how angry and upset he is at the moment.

“Never apologize for this. This wasn't you at all.” Felix chimes in. “So don't feel guilty, don't be upset and don't ever think we're mad at you for any of this.” He finishes.

The three of you walk to the car, Felix opening the passenger door for you before climbing in the back while Hyunjin takes the driver's seat.

“Now.” He starts. “We can go to the house or your apartment, which one do you want?”

“My apartment please.” You breathe. “I begged San to take me there but he wouldn't. I just want to be home.” You say. Hyunjin smiles as he starts to drive in the direction of your place. They were so fucking happy that you had come back to them, but they couldn't help but wonder how long they would have you for before something went wrong, because in their life, something always went wrong.

“Ah, my bed!” You squeal as you lay down gently in your bed, making sure not to hit the still tender wound on the back of your head.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is there anything we can get you? Do you want us to stay? Go?” Felix asks. He really hoped you would ask them to stay.

“Please stay. I don't wanna be without you guys.” You smile. “I know we're really just starting out this relationship and already so many things have happened..” you pause. “So if you want out, tell me now.” You finish, holding your breath.

They both look confused again.

“Out?” Hyunjin asks.

“Why would we want out?” Felix asks.

“Because. Like I said. So much has happened.” You mutter.

“I've waited years for you baby, I'm not going anywhere unless I'm 6 feet in the ground.” Felix says.

“Yeah, you wanna get rid of me love, you're gonna have to kill me.” Hyunjin winks.

How did you end up so fucking lucky? You usually weren't the one to have the happy ending but maybe now things are finally changing for you?

You get under the covers in your bed, patting either side for the boys. They crawl in with you, snuggling up to you. You can't help but fall asleep so quickly, feeling so safe and loved right now. Over the next week you spent almost all your time in bed with Felix and Hyunjin waiting on you hand and foot. By the end of the week you felt back at 10p% and you were so grateful for them. As the three of you went to bed that night, you had a plan for the next day and you hoped they would be on board.

You wake up in the morning, feeling refreshed and sweaty. You have Felix’s arm draped around you with Hyunjin’s leg pinning you down. Your head was kinda sore but not as bad as it had been. You were finally feeling more yourself but you knew you needed to take some advil or something to alleviate the soreness you were in. You felt normal again and you loved it.

“Felix.” you groan, poking up. “Hyunjin. Move. My head is sore. I need something.” You say. Both men shoot up in bed, scrambling out and each running in a different direction to find you something. Minutes later Felix comes back with medicine while Hyunjin appears with some water.

“Perfect.” You smile, taking the pills and water. “Thank you. But you know you really didn't need to rush. It's just a small headache.” You giggle.

Felix looks at his phone, then looks back at you. “The guys want to see you.. I guess Chan is really beating himself up about this.” He sighs. You crawl out of bed, looking for some clothes.

“Well let's go then.” You say, grabbing an outfit to change into.

An hour later you're sitting outside the house. “Are you sure you're up for it?” Hyunjin asks.

“Definitely.” You smile. You wanted your normal life back and you needed them to stop treating you like you were a fragile glass doll. You were more resilient than they knew. The three of you walk up to the door. When the door opened, there stood 6 men with smiles on their faces to greet you.

“I'm so glad you're back, Y/N. Once you're up for it I want a beer chugging rematch.” Han laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“You wanna lose again?” You giggle, moving on to Changbin who squeezes you tightly.

Seungmin and Lee Know both give you a quick hug, murmuring something you didn't quite catch, while Jeongin pulls you in tightly as well. You walk over to Chan, who's standing a little ways back from the group, his head hangs low as you approach him.

“I should have told the cops it was San..Y/N I'm so sorry for this whole thing. It's my fault.. I should have..” he continues to say, but you cut him off.

“Chan, stop it. You couldn't have known how things were going to turn out. I was fine and then I wasn't but I'm okay now. And I hope you know I'm not mad at you and I don't hold any of your decisions against you.” You say. You open your arms, pulling the sad man into you. He wraps his arms around you tightly, sniffling into your shoulder.

“Alright, alright.” Felix says, pulling you away from Chan. “She needs to rest now, go on.” He says, shooing the man away.

“Lix, I'm fine.” You smile. He looks at you like he's going to melt.

“Lix, huh?” He grins. “I like it.”

“Do you?” You say, matching his grin. You lean in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. “My Lixxie.” You whisper.

“Oh baby.” He groans, his deep sultry voice coming out to play. “You're just asking for it, aren't you?”

You turn your head, smirking as you look at Hyunjin. “You think I'm asking for it Jin?” You wink. He chuckles as he walks towards the two of you. “Mhmm, Jin? I don't know.” He sighs.

“How about Jinnie?” You whisper.

“I could get used to that.” He grins.

You lean in, your lips so close to touching before Chan pipes up.

“ Sorry to interrupt boys but we've got business to take care of.” He says, looking at Hyunjin and Felix.

“A race?” You question, looking between the two men.

Hyunjin and Felix both glance at each other before Hyunjin sighs. “Yeah there's a race tonight. But we have some things to take care of beforehand.” He says, looking at Felix.

“Stay here. We'll be back as soon as we can, okay?” Felix smiles.

No. You didn't want to stay. You were better, you wanted to go.

“I'm coming.” You say. You flashback to the last time you went and what happened. But you couldn't be afraid forever.

Felix and Hyunjin knew that they couldn't control you and if you said you felt ready then you were ready. They just hated the fact that they couldn't protect you while they raced.

“Fine. But while we race you need to stay with Chan and Changbin, okay? San will likely be there.” Hyunjin sighs.

You nod your head, excited to be able to see them race again. You stayed at the house while they went out and did whatever they needed to do before the rave, when they were done they swung by the house and picked an excited you up and headed out.

The crowd was larger than you remembered. There were more people racing this time and the spot was a lot bigger. You felt sure that with this many people in this big of a place you wouldn't see San.

“Who's racing now?” You ask Felix as the two of you sit on the bed of someone's truck, watching the tires spin and burn while the flag drops and the cars peel off.

“That would be Got7 in the blue car, I think it's Jinyoung driving. And then it's Lucas from NCT in the yellow one.” Felix says, sliding his arm around your shoulder.

Hyunjin walks over to the two of you, hopping up onto the truck beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

“We're up next. We race against whoever wins this one.” He says. You were nervous, you always felt nervous when they were racing. The chance that there was an accident was really high with how fast they go.

The three of you walked hand in hand towards their group, Got7 had won so they were racing against Jinyoung.

“Be safe.” You sigh, giving both of them a kiss. You link your arm with Chan's as you watch them both walk away. Your eyes scan the crowd, looking at all the people here who were watching, and your eyes landed on someone familiar.

San.

Your body tenses up so much that Chan notices. He looks where you were looking, your eyes locked in with San's.

“It's okay Y/N.” Chan says, rubbing your arm. “We're not going to let anything happen to you.” He smiles. Felix and Hyunjin peel off, the race starts. You knew San was going to be here but it still affected you and you really hadn't thought it would have.

A few minutes later you notice the rest of the guys standing in a half circle, talking to someone. Chan glances over and immediately a grin plastered across his face. “I'll be right back.” He says, pulling his arm from yours and walking over to the others. You stand there alone, peeking over to see a very beautiful girl that they were all talking to. You had no idea who she was but they were all clearly smitten with her. You looked through the crowd again, but didn't see San anymore. You started to calm down a little bit now, feeling like maybe he had left.

Until you feel someone grab your wrist and try to pull you. You look over, seeing San with your wrist in his hand, pulling you towards him.

“Come with me please.” San says, pulling a little harder.

“No. Let go of me.” You say, trying to yank your wrist from his grasp.

“Y/N stop, I just wanna talk.” He says. He starts walking towards the trees, dragging you with him. You turn your head.

“Chan!” You yell. He doesn't hear you. “Chan!” You scream a little louder. He puts up a finger, “just a second, Y/N.” He yells, not even turning around. You didn't have a second.

“I just want to explain!” San grunts. You're getting too close to the trees. Panic sets in. What did you do?

Scream. Scream Y/N.

You let out a loud, ear shattering scream. Chan and the rest of the guys all turn around, looking for you in horror. Chan sees you, San's hand covering your mouth as he drags you into the trees. He, Changbin and Lee Know run towards you, luckily grabbing you before San could get too deep. By the time they reach you, the race is over. Felix and Hyunjin had won, but instead of staying in the car to wait for the next race, they bolted towards the commotion they saw happening with you. They reach you just as Chan pulls you away from San.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Chan yells.

“I just wanted to talk to her!” San yells, defending himself.

“You okay, baby?” Felix asks, giving you a once over.

“How did this happen?” Hyunjin yells. “I thought you were keeping an eye on her!?”

“I was! I was talking to Jennie.. just for a minute.” Chan says.

“I yelled for you! You told me just a second!” You breathe.

Chan hangs his head. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I really didn't think he would try anything.”

“Hyunjin, you go race, I'll stay with Y/N.” Felix says, wrapping his arm around you, taking you away from the group. He had never been more angry at his leader than he was at this moment. The two of you sit there, your head resting on Felix's shoulder. You watched Hyunjin in the car waiting for the race to start. He looks over at you, blowing you a kiss. You grin as you blow one back to him. Felix takes his finger, placing it under your chin, turning your face towards his. He smiles at you before leaning in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You feel like you're going to melt with the way his lips feel on yours.

He breaks the kiss as he hears the crowd screaming, Hyunjin was racing San. You could feel your anxiety in the pit of your stomach. If San did anything or tried anything, you swore you would kill him.

Hyunjin takes off, you watch as he speeds off leaving San in the dust. You watch intensely where the cars come around the bend for the finish line. You were desperate to see Hyunjin come first. After minutes of waiting, you see him. San closely behind him. Hyunjin switches gears, The car takes off even faster, crossing the finish line well before San. The crowd erupts in cheers. You get off the truck, running towards Hyunjin. You push through the crowd of people and he grabs you, picking you up in a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, kissing you passionately before the guys come over to celebrate.

“We're going to the club tonight!” Chan yells. “Time to celebrate!” Everyone cheers. You turn around, seeing a defeated San walk towards his group. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

Later that night, you were dressed and ready to head to the club. You were so excited to go and dance with your boys, drink, let loose and have a great time.

“Ready?” Felix asks as he walks into the room.

“Ready.” You smile, walking towards him. He lets out a whistle as he grabs your hand to twirl you around.

“Wow.” He gasps. “Hyunjin.” He yells. “Come here.”

Hyunjin walks into the room wearing a black dress shirt tucked into his black pants, same as Felix and they both looked so fucking good.

“Jesus.” Hyunjin grins. “So sexy.”

You can feel the blush creep across your face as you giggle at the compliments. “Let's go, you two.” You say, grabbing both their hands to drag them out of the room.

“You sure?” Felix asks as you tug him along. “We could just stay home? There's a few things I can think of to do.” He smirks.

“Yeah, it would be a lot more fun.” Hyunjin agrees.

“We're going to celebrate you two. Shush.” You giggle.

The club is packed. You walk in feeling the bass pound through the floors, the smell of sex and sweat fills the air. The three of you make your way to the bar, ordering a few different shots. This felt nice, being out. It felt normal which you loved. After some shots you three made your way to the dance floor. Hyunjin behind you, Felix in front. You hadn't drank in so long that it didn't take very long for the booze to kick in. You stuck out your ass, grinding it onto Hyunjins crotch while Felix was between your legs, his body pressed up against yours. The whole thing was extremely hot, and it made you even hornier than you were to begin with. the feeling of both their hands roaming your body, Hyunjin's breath on the back of your neck, Felix's breath on your ear. You'd let them fuck you right there.

After an hour of dancing, you excused yourself to the bathroom. You could feel your pussy was dripping wet for them and you couldn't wait to get home tonight. You come out of the bathroom, searching for Felix and Hyunjin. You look around and finally see them standing side by side talking to the same girl that had been at the races. You could see her laughing, throwing her head back as she touched both their arms. That pissed you off. You make your way to the bar, sitting on a stool, ordering a drink. You barely notice the man sitting beside you. The bartender sets a drink and a shot beside you. You grab the shot, turning around in your seat to watch your boyfriends with Jennie. You wondered how long it would take for them to notice you hadn't come back yet or if at all. Maybe they were so immersed in the conversation with Jennie they completely forgot they had a girlfriend. You take your shot, setting it down on the bar before grabbing your drink and turning back around again. You're sipping on your drink. And sipping. And sipping. Until you're done and they still haven't noticed. You turn around, ordering another shot and another drink, turning back again to watch them.

You take your shot and before you can turn to grab your drink, there's a man standing in front of you.

“Hello.” He smiles.

“Hi.” You say back staying straight faced.

“Are you here alone?” He asks.

“No.” You deadpan, looking around him to see Hyunjin and Felix.

“I'm talking to you.” He laughs, moving in front of your view.

“And I'm not interested.” You snap, looking up at him.

“Woah, calm down.” He laughs. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“I have a drink.” You sigh.

“Wanna dance?” He asks.

“No.” You say. “Go away please.”

“Ah, just come dance.” He laughs again, grabbing your wrist.

“Bro.” The guy next to you snaps. “She's not fucking interested. Move along.”

“Okay, bro. Is she your girlfriend?” The man asks.

“Doesn't matter if she is or not. She doesn't want to dance, she doesn't want a drink, move the fuck on.” He says, removing his hand from your wrist. The guy scoffs before leaving you alone finally.

“Thank you.” You say looking over at the man who helped you. You squint your eyes, looking a little closer. “Jinyoung?” You ask.

“Yeah?” He responds, looking at you funny.

“You were at the races.” You say. “You raced against Hyunjin and Felix.”

“Yeah I did. Oh! You're their girlfriend. That's right. I remember you.” He says.

“Thank you again for helping me. I appreciate it.” You smile.

“It's no problem. Where are those two anyways?” He asks.

You nod your head in their direction. They were still talking to Jennie and you were fucking annoyed.

“Ah.”

“I've been waiting to see how long it takes for them to notice I haven't come back from the bathroom. And this is embarrassing.” You sigh.

“That sucks. She's such a fucking cunt too.” He laughs. “She puts on a good show of being nice and flirty.”

“I don't want to be jealous. But I am. Cunt or not, they haven't even turned their heads to even peek for me. I'd love to make them jealous.” You laugh.

“Do you wanna dance?” Jinyoung asks. “I'm all for helping out.”

You grin at him as you nod your head. Maybe they won't forget about you to flirt with someone else next time. Jinyoung grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor as you quickly chug your drink. He pulls you past Felix and Hyunjin, you turn your drunk head to smile at them, sticking your tongue out as you get to the front of the dance floor with Jinyoung. In their line of vision perfectly. He places his hands on your waist as you dance with him, moving your hips seductively. You can see the instant anger plastered across both their faces. You weren't sure if it was because you were dancing with another man, or because that man was Jinyoung. You continue to dance, giggling as you stick up your middle finger to them both, making them both slightly laugh. They walk away from Jennie, who turns to watch them, looking offended that they just left in the middle of a conversation.

“Y/N.” Felix says, using his deep voice.

“What?” You ask, still dancing.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Dancing.”

“Why are you dancing with another man?” Hyunjin asks.

“Why are you two flirting with Jennie?” You ask, now glaring at them both. “I've been out of the bathroom for 45 minutes, watching you two, neither of you wondered where I was?” You scoff.

“Baby..” Felix starts.

“Don't baby me.” You scoff. “Jinyoung here saved me when some creepy man was trying to force me to dance with him. Where were you two?” You slur.

You turn around facing Jinyoung who had been silent the whole time you'd been talking to them. You keep dancing, only for a second before Hyunjin pulls you away from Jinyoung. You turn to look at him, mouthing a ‘thank you’ as you giggle at the angry men guiding you away. He just laughs.

“I don't need help.” You say, pulling your hands away from them.

“I didn't like that.” Felix says as the three of you get outside. “Seeing you with him.”

“I could have beat the shit out of him.” Hyunjin says.

You say nothing, you just keep walking, both men behind you. You can hear them whispering but you can't hear what they're whispering about. Until you're grabbed, and dragged into an alley. You're pinned against the wall as an angry Hyunjin and Felix stare at you.

“Did you like it?” Hyunjin asks. “the feeling of his hands all over your body.”

“Did you feel his cock on your ass as you grinded with him?” Felix asks.

“Yes and yes.” You say, smirking. You wanted to rile them up. You loved it when they were jealous. You push them out of the way, continuing to stumble your way back to the house. You looked down and then back up, and Felix stood in front of you. He swiftly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He walks the opposite way you were and sets you down inside a car.

You had forgotten they drove here. Felix slides in the backseat with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up with your elbows as Felix lays semi on top of you. Hyunjin races to the house.

“I don't ever want to see another guy's hands on you ever again.” He whispers in your ear. Hyunjin pulls up to the house in record time, helping you out of the car as Felix gets out on the other side. Hyunjin pins you against the car.

“You're gonna be in big trouble if you ever do that again.” He says, placing kisses down your neck.

“Am I not in trouble now?” You gasp.

“Oh you are.” Felix smirks.

“Well so are you guys.” You say, walking towards the house.

Once you're inside, Felix slams the front door shut. The house is quiet. Everyone else is still out. You slide off your shoes, walking towards the kitchen. Felix grabs you, turning you around, pressing you against the wall. He smashes his lips to yours, kissing you harshly as he pulls up your dress. Hyunjin comes over to the two of you, peppering kisses over your neck as Felix pulls down your panties.

“After tonight, you're not going to want any other man to touch you.” Felix grunts.

This is what you had desperate been waiting for, and you couldn't fucking wait.

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