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#do not let this flop i will cry <////3
acekindaneat · 1 year
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A Wedding. 💍
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Based on Lapidist's work on ao3.
^^please give it a read because it's really good but i had to cut out a lot of bits to fit it into 10 pages :0
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foolsunz · 5 months
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𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥…
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— nct dream as different kink based scenarios.
content warnings: smut, unprotected sex + more. this is pure self indulgent filth. word count: 2,6K.
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౨₊ৎ Mark
fingering, BEGGING (</3) and edging.
you let a whimper and a soft ‘please’ escape you, wanting to come so bad already, but unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, mark, has other plans.
leaning down, he places a soft peck on your stomach before placing several open mouthed, hungry kisses on your inner thighs, so close to where you want him.
“tsk, i thought i taught you better than that, princess,” mark quips, the condescending tone sending waves of heat up your spine.
he gathers the cum leaking from your cunt and pushes it back inside, causing a loud moan to escape your parted lips.
mark watches as your hips buck and squirm from every breath on his lips on your glistening cunt. getting lost in your eyes, he finally seals his lips over your clit again and begins sucking, softly.
“y/n, you have to use your words…”
you feel your lower lip trembling, and your eyes already having tears welling in them. “please, baby—” you beg shamelessly, breathless moans escaping you and filling mark’s ears, making his cock twitch.
he flicks his tongue from side to side so your only reply will be another moan, another plead.
“p-please.”
“please what?” he smiles devilishly, draping your legs over his shoulders as he inserts a second finger in your dripping hole. he circles his tongue around your throbbing, swollen clit, working his two fingers into your tight hole. “words, sweetheart. tell me what you want.”
your pleading and screams get louder as mark’s fingers move faster, his thumb working your clit in circles. He pushes another finger in, finding your sweet spot as your thighs begin to shake. “please…make me come— please, markie.”
you let your head flop back on the bed; just panting and moaning as he presses three fingers inside you.
“mhm, you look so pretty like this,” he smiles, gazing up at you, “sucking all three of my fingers in. fuck, i bet you want my cock. bet you want me to fuck your throat raw until you can’t speak for a day, hm?”
“yes! fuck, mark, please—‘m gonna cum,” you moan.
each thrust of his fingers causes you to lose track of time and space and you can’t help but feel the tears pooling in your eyes.
mark waits until you’re on the cusp of your orgasm to stop his ministrations, and take his fingers out in one swift movement.
“no no no no, why— fuck, why did you stop?” you cry, your body arching off the bed as much as you can to try and get any touch from him.
you whimper when he gently pushes you back down.
tears stream down your cheeks, a pathetic pout etched on your face, and mark can’t help but smile as he kisses the expression off.
“please,” you’re saying, over and over again in a small, desperate tone.
“please, baby— please, please, please,” you beg a few more times, but in that defeated, small voice that means you know for a fact you won’t get what you want.
knowing if you beg enough, then maybe, just maybe, he’ll give you what you want.
but you better pray for it.
౨₊ৎ Renjun
spitting, praise kink, body worship and pet names !!!!
“shit, princess,” renjun starts, sucking harshly on your clit with his skilled tongue, “look at the mess you made.”
you groan, wanting to retort, but you’re lost for words. renjun doesn’t say anything, he merely gazes up at you, a mixture of your arousal and his spit glistening on his chin and dripping down his defined jaw.
“you’re fucking dripping,” he smirks mischievously at you, “i can’t wait to watch you fall apart, pretty.”
you babble incoherently, turning into a crying mess as he sucks on your clit like a lollipop, until you begin to shake, quivering uncontrollably as you mewl his name like a mantra.
“shh, shh. you’re doing so good, baby girl, you look so pretty. just keep going like this, okay angel?” he whispers breathily. “can you do that for me?”
crying out at the praise, you can’t help but nod hesitantly, causing him to smile as he begins tonguing your aching hole while his two fingers work on your clit, rubbing vigorously.
finally you hear him continue to praise you, whispering sweet nothings against your clit as he finger fucks you; and your senses can’t help but get overwhelmed.
there’s too much going on, and all you can - and will focus on, is renjun, renjun, renjun.
“fuck, junnie—” you whine pathetically, clenching around his long fingers and making him groan against your cunt.
just before you can come, renjun kisses up your body, making you whimper as you quiver around his hot breath against your lips.
“say ahh, baby girl,” he smiles, gripping your cheeks and slapping them, demanding you to: “open your mouth.”
you let a gasp escape you as you part your lips, letting him spit in your mouth before firmly grabbing your jaw and following up with a question of, “who do you belong to, huh?”
“you!”
“mhm ‘s that right?” he smirks, mocking you as he smears the spit all over your lips and face. “yeah? that’s a good fucking slut.”
his fingers thrust faster inside your hole and his thumb continues to rub your clit, determined to make you come and make you see stars.
you cry out in pleasure, and when you orgasm for the fourth time, renjun comes, untouched, his cock pulsing against your thigh as he writhes in pleasure; the feeling of you cumming enough to make him come undone, his cum staining his boxers.
౨₊ৎ Jeno
face fucking, degradation & corruption/innocence kink. 😵‍💫
“more jen,” you beg pathetically as you look up at jeno with the prettiest doe eyes.
you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out flat and inviting more of him in as he slowly slides his cock inside your small, soft mouth.
but it isn’t enough for you. “please, ngh i want— i need more.”
it’s like a switch is flipped, your usually sweet and careful boyfriend who always treats you like you’re made of glass, finally snapping and becoming rough with you; animalistic moans escaping him as he begins fucking your face.
“greedy fucking slut,” he snarls, tangling his fingers in your hair as he thrusts his cock down your throat. “you want more, huh? i’ll fucking give it to you.”
he moves his hand from your jaw to the back of your head, holding you steady as you keep bobbing your head and swallowing around his length.
“take it, slut,” he growls, thrusting harder and almost forgetting it’s your mouth he’s fucking, and not a toy. “shit… baby, that feels so good.”
you gag around him, drooling all over yourself as mascara cascades down your cheeks and your perfectly applied red lipstick a mess, all smudged from having your plush lips wrapped around your boyfriend’s dick.
you feel your throat beginning to burn and you can barely see his face due to the tears welling in your eyes, but you still want more. you want to please him, and take him - all of him; wanting him to move faster, deeper, until you’re a trembling mess and can’t breathe.
jeno hisses before yanking your hair harshly and thrusting back into your mouth, “you’re such a dirty little whore… fuck— you love choking around my cock, don’t you, slut?”
humming in agreement around him, he lets a loud whimper escape him as he bites his bottom lip.
he can’t help but wipe away your tears as he fucks your tight throat and pretty face into a drooling, needy mess. your boyfriend moans loudly, tangling his fingers into your hair before increasing his pace.
“oh yeah?” he growls, pushing your head down to make sure you choke around him and taste every inch of him. “let’s see how much you can take before you start crying like a little girl and beg for air.”
౨₊ৎ Haechan
dacryphilia, squirting (!!!!!) and pet names 😫😫
“please fuck— yes, hyuck, nggh don’t stop,” you mewl, barely able to make out coherent sentences as you babble nonsense with the need to cum.
you know at this point, your brain is purely focused on haechan’s mouth on you; the way he grinds against the mattress to relieve himself as he pleasures you with his mouth and fingers, the sweet sounds escaping the both of you…
you know you aren’t going to last long.
haechan gazes up at you through hooded eyes, you can feel him smirk against your cunt as he devours you, listening to your pleas.
he’s more than practiced at making you fall apart and making you cry and scream his name, which is why he has a new mission to be fulfilled: to make you squirt.
and, since he knows your body better than you do, he knows the only way to make that happen, is to edge you first.
so that is what he decides to do.
his wet lips closes around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly as his eyes focuses on the expressions you are making, taking in each of them in and memorising what makes you feel good.
and without a warning, he inserts two of his fingers inside of you, curling them and hitting the spot you love oh so much.
you can’t help but scream his name and arch your back for more.
“that’s the spot, huh pretty?” he smirks, moaning as he feels your walls clench around his digits. “shit, you like it when i touch this spot, don’t you?”
you bite your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks as you desperately hump haechan’s fingers, his wet tongue, and his pretty face; searching for release.
with every breath you take, soft whimpers and ‘oh my god’s’ leave your lips.
“you gonna come for me, princess?”
you nod vigorously, lust practically plastered in your eyes as his fingers and tongue begins to match the pace of your rocking hips.
“h—hyuck…” you whimper as you twitch, moaning as he leaves bite marks alongside the many other bruises that litter your body from his mouth. “god, i’m gonna—fuck!”
you sob when you feel his breath against your core, “let it go, baby,” he growls as he sucks and licks your clit with a moderate amount of pressure. “cum for me.”
he smirks when he sees tears sliding down your cheeks, “you’re so so so beautiful when you cry for me, angel…”
“so fucking pretty,” he moans, the thrusts of his fingers getting rougher and rougher every time you let out a sound.
“fuck— baby girl, i wanna see you shower the fucking sheets… wanna watch you cry, hear you scream. let it all out, baby, soak my fucking hand.”
“no, wait—” you start, but it’s too late.
you feel the sudden sound of fluids gushing down the side of your knees, soaking your inner thighs as tears of humiliation burn down your cheeks.
you feel embarrassed, mortified in fact but, hyuck merely makes a seal with his lips and sucks your clit so hard that it’s enough to clutter your vision as you gush around his fingers and mouth.
“shit— that’s it, squirt for me. fuck, just like that, that’s my girl.”
౨₊ৎ Jaemin
overstimulation, face sitting & auralism <3333
“fuck— i need to taste you now,” he groans, his lips immediately finding your tits, pulling down the cups of your bra to get better access to your nipples. he latches on to your nipple, sucking firmly while kneading the other in circular motions. “c’mere baby, sit on my face.”
he wastes no time in finding your swollen clit with his tongue, wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his face deeper into your wet pussy.
as he sucks on your clit, he looks up at you; his eyes focusing on you and your facial expressions.
he loves the small gasps and moans you let out, but he wants you to scream for him.
“are you holding back?” he asks, his tongue swirling around your clit faster, his moans causing vibrations that had you whimpering his name.
“don’t. i wanna hear your pretty little moans.” he adds, urging you to scream for him.
you feel yourself getting closer to your release as he speeds up his ministrations, and when you finally come with a scream of his name and a yank of his hair, he laps up your spill of juices dutifully, cleaning up every last drop as you come down from your high.
“oh? you thought i was done?” he poses, “no no, baby, you can take one more for me, right?”
౨₊ৎ Chenle
exhibitionism & dumbification 🥵
“chenle,” you plead, your voice thick with tears as you try your best to stop yourself from rolling your hips against his, “there’s people nearby— oh my god, we’ll get caught.”
“fuck them,” he groans into your ear before looking up at you, his deep voice and gaze sending shivers down your spine. “let them walk in, I don’t give a shit.”
you feel your thighs begin to quiver and shake as he continues having his way with you, fucking and using you like a rag doll, and just when you feel your legs almost give out from under you, chenle grabs your hips and wraps them around his waist as he keeps fucking you.
for a quick second, you’re grateful, but that’s until you realise this new angle has his dick drilling even further into your cunt.
“oh my god,” you cry out, “we can’t— chenle… you’re crazy.”
he just smiles at you, looking into your eyes; knowing they’re saying a differing story. thrusting his hips in deeper, he hisses as your hot walls squeeze around him, groaning loudly before he begins rubbing your clit in fast circles.
“tell me to stop,” he purrs seductively, kissing at your jaw before trailing kisses along your neck, “fuck— say you don’t want this as much as i do, and i’ll stop.”
the way your eyes roll into the back of your head has the blood rushing right to chenle’s cock. you both know for a fact you won’t tell him to stop, and when he begins thrusting faster, setting a relentless and merciless pace, you can’t help but give in and moan his name like a prayer as you fall apart.
“that’s my fucking girl,” he smirks proudly, picking up his pace, letting his movements do the talking for him. “shit, that’s it, baby… scream my name, let them hear you.”
౨₊ৎ Jisung
breeding and dacryphilia <3
“you wanna cum?” he questions, placing your legs over his shoulders as his pace quickens, a choked moan falling from your lips at the feeling.
you nod vigorously, your voice already slipping into a little whimper as you squeeze your eyes.
“fuck, baby… ‘m gonna fill you up good,” he purrs, thrusting forward, loosening his grip on your waist until his cock is fully sheathed inside your gspot.
“that’s the spot, right baby?” he growls animalistically, teasing you with a few shallow, yet powerful and merciless thrusts, as you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to feel more of him inside you.
“oh my god, jisung— fuck, right there,” you moan, feeling his groans echoing throughout your body, as he leans forward, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaning down to kiss you deeply, hungrily; biting your bottom lip and making you gasp. “please, i want you to come inside of me.”
“yeah, babe?”
jisung smiles devilishly, quickening to a brutal pace as he trails a hand down to massage your throbbing clit.
“want me to fill you up with my cum over and over again? get you pregnant?” he whispers, loving the way your entire body shakes and reacts to the thought of him knocking you up.
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© foolsunz 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, modify, or take credit for any of my works.
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tatoda · 8 months
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Seeing you | college!conrad x fem!reader
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!!MINORS DNI!!
request
masterlist
summary: you come to surprise conrad at college on a rainy night
pairing: college!conrad x fem!teader
warnings: SMUT!! fem receiving, piv, conrad pleasing reader, soft sex, male receiving CHARACTERS ARE 18
wc: 2.1K
sorry if it's not really put together but I did try my best sorry if there are any mistakes
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The drive to Brown was horrible tonight. It’s as if it was raining cats and dogs. But you told yourself nothing would stop you from seeing your boyfriend. You had a horrible week back at home. Your sister Belly was making you help her with trigonometry, and the only person you learned from was Conrad but he was busy this whole week with finals. Belly would take up all your free time when you weren’t doing your classes online. You decided to stay home your first 2 years and do online to help with Susannah and your mom as they both were going through a lot. But to your siblings, that just meant you’re always home for them to ask you for anything.
The rain calmed down as you entered the campus. He didn’t know you were coming but he did text you and tell you he has the weekend free to rest until his next final on monday. You wouldn’t be lying if you said that you cried the 3 hours of driving you did and all of connie’s texts were going unanswered so he became worried. He called Steven who told him you were sleeping— he was in on the surprise.
Pulling up to his dorm building you parked the car and grabbed your bag before running through the rain to the entrance. You tried to use the backpack as an umbrella but it didn’t work as your clothes got damp. Walking to the elevator it opened and you clicked the top floor. It felt like the machine was taking forever because he was just a few feet away. And it’s been almost 3 weeks since you saw him last. The sliding doors opened and you speed-walked to his door. Standing in front of it, you knocked breathing out of your mouth.
“coming!” the familiar voice yelled out and the door opened to his beautiful face
“hi.” you softly spoke scared he didn’t want you here but he didn’t say anything just ran and picked you up holding you close to him
“oh my gosh.” his head was in your neck breathing in your scent “you’re here.” he looked back at your teary face
“i missed you.” he wiped a fallen tear
“don’t cry.” he kissed your forehead running his hands through your damp hair “you drove in this rain?” worry struck his face
“i needed to see you.” both his hands cupped your face
“i was so worried when you didn’t answer and then steven said you were sleeping, i didn’t believe him.” he laughed and you shook your head at your young brother
“can i come in?” he moved and let you into the dorm room. his roommate was gone and conrad’s side of the room was neatly made just like he always did in cousins
“my roommate finished his finals so he’s gone.” the door closed behind you as you dropped your bag pealing off your jacket before flopping on his bed “dork.” he chuckled and climbed behind you bringing him towards you. “missed you,” he mumbled
“not possible i missed you more.” you turned around in his arms taking in his face. his thumb slowly drifted across your face
“i’m sorry that i was so busy, i know you were having a hard week.” you shook your head
“just had no time to relax. Belly needed help with trig and it got to a point i couldn’t understand, and then steven called me one night at like three am drunk asking for a ride when i had work at five. my mom was all over the place with your mom and it was a mess.” he didn’t interrupt you he just listened
“i’m sorry i couldn’t be there, you know jere can help too.”
“jere was drunk with steven.”
“of course he was.” conrad laughed “well i’m almost done with finals so i’m gonna be all yours.” he sighed bringing you closer to kiss you softly and you brought your hands up to his soft hair that you missed so much. the kiss depended as he moved to get on top of you putting his weight on you “missed you so much, gosh,” he whispered against your lips
“show me.” his eyes darkened as those words came out of your mouth.
“baby,” he mumbled looking down at you
“con, i’ve missed you so much, please. it’s been forever since you touched me.” a small smirk grew on his face before he leaned down to kiss your lips softly and then slowly descend down to your neck, but his lips stayed there as his hand drifted down towards the waistband of your sweatpants “please”
He didn’t have to be told twice by you. Conrad let his hand slip under your underwear and finally makes contact with you feeling the effect he has on you. His fingers started slowly circling your clit and it made you buck your hips into him feeling the hard pressure from him against you. He didn’t focus on that. Only you. He wanted to make sure you were satisfied. He could wait. As he teased you around your entrance his lips stopped kissing your neck and he looked into your eyes lovingly.
“hi,” you breathed into him as he ran a finger over you again
“hi baby.” he smiled down at you and slipped a finger inside of you catching your mouth in a gasp he kissed you “like that?” you nodded fast against him as he slowly moved in and out of you “so pretty.” he kissed the tip of your nose as he moved his thumb to play with your clit again circling it just how you liked it
“con.” you bucked into him again
“i’m not gonna let you cum, don’t you worry we’re gonna do that together.” he moved faster on the spot you needed him most before pulling out of you when he knew you were getting close
“yeah, yeah.” you sighed and conrad peeled off his shirt over his head and then helped you out of yours to see the lace bra you were wearing
“for me?” you leaned back on your elbows giving him a nice view
“the one and only.” he chuckled before you grabbed the side of his face and brought your lips back together. you slightly lifted yourself and unclipped your bra letting it fall between the both of your bodies. conrad sighed as he looked at your tits wondering how he got so lucky. he then moved both his hands to your waistband and separated from you
“you sure? i just thought you would be tired from the drive.” you couldn’t help but smile at him as he was the most caring and loving boy you have ever met
“for you, always.” he didn’t need another word before dragging both your underwear and pants down and tossed them off the bed to the floor
“careful connie gonna get your room dirty.”
“i’m only fine with that if you cause the mess.” he connected your lips once more as your hands drifted to his jeans. you could do this blindfolded anytime any day of the week. the button popped and you rolled the zipper down and pushed the fabric past his thighs, conrad groaned as it went past his hard erection
“fuck.” he fell to your shoulder
“seems like someone missed me,” you said kissing the side of his head
“give me a break, there’s so much phone sex with you can do.” you couldn’t respond as he bit down on your neck. next thing you knew his boxers were off and he was reaching into his side table for a condom. you designed the box where he kept them as it said ‘for y/n use only’ which you loved and conrad laughed as you gave it to him for his birthday. he ripped open the package and you relaxed on the bed as he slipped the condom on “soft tonight okay? missed you too much.” biting your lip you nodded as he breathed out lining up to you before pushing in little by little getting used to you again
“conrad.” you gasped digging your nails into his back
“i know baby, we have to get used to it again.” he moved a little more as a small whimper came out of you
“just go all the way. this is too much.” he listened to your words and pushed more into you
“fuck!” he bottomed out catching his breath and looked down at your closed-eyed figure “look at me.” he moved your hair from your face and your eyes opened to his pretty face “if it becomes too much, you let me know.”
“okay, i promise.” he relaxed onto you and moved his hips out before pushing them back into you causing both of you to groan
“j-just don’t moan too loud, i got neighbors.” he breathed out. last time you both had sex here conrad got a noise complaint and if he got a second one it would be his last warning for any visitors
“sorry.” you whispered against his lips and his hips slowed movements letting you feel him “don’t slow down.”
“just needed to feel you.” he dipped his head into the crook of your neck holding you close as if he wasn’t inside of you close enough already, you squeezed around him and his body jolted “if you do that again i will cum, and i really don’t want that.”
“then fuck me conrad.” he lifted his head as his eyes darkened over yours
“yes ma’am.” he pulled out all the way and slammed his hips back into yours the sound of skin slapping echoed around the room, he did that multiple times. it wasn’t hard it was telling and passion
As your breaths mixed you both slowly started to lose control. His hips got sloppy and that was a sigh he was getting closer to his edge. But something about conrad is he never wanted to finish first, he wanted you to have to spotlight before he finished after you.
“cant last much longer.” he grabbed one of your hands bringing it above your head and interlocking your fingers together as he looked down between the both of you and where you were connected
“me too.” you arched your back as he hit a spot like never before “fuck.” the man above you continued to hit that g-spot and you started to shake uncontrollably “con-“ he brought his lips down to your mouth and dragged one more thrust before you came, he slowed his movements letting you relax.
“i got you.” he pushed some of your hair away from your face
“did you finish?” the answer was no. he wanted you to feel special even before he could ever
“no it’s okay, i wanted it to be about you-“ you cut him off flipping both of you over carefully as the twin bed didn’t have much room. you slipped the condom off tying it and tossed it in his trash can
“y/n.” he sighed laying back on full display for you
“let me take care of you now.” leaning down his hard erection stayed up, red at the tip wanted to release
“do something baby.” you nodded before taking him all in your mouth
“god i love it when you do that.” using your hands you stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and he bucked into your mouth hearing a gagging sound come from your throat “sorry.” but you ignored him coming up and sucking on the tip before going down again “cumming.” he groaned out and the warm texture filled your mouth some falling out past your lips “fuck, fuck” he held your head in place slowly pumping to get the rest out “good girl.” he sighed and fell back onto his pillow as you swallowed what you could then grabbing his shirt to clean the both of you
“good?” you wanted to make it everything he wanted
“amazing, come here.” he reached for you and you grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed before cuddling into his side covering the think texture over the two of you “i love you.” he looked down at your face
“i love you.” leaning up to kiss him softly he could taste himself on you and he knew there would be many more rounds tomorrow “thank you for visiting.”
“of course, i’d be lost without you conrad fisher.” and you closed your eyes driving off to sleep as he realized, he was gonna marry you one day.
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ohcaptains · 1 year
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don’t you dare fall in love | 3
pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader
PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.
warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.
an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me...i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u. 
When Ellie gets out of her meeting with her personal tutor, she’s just about ready to throw herself down the stairs.
Catapult herself out of the window and perish on the campus floor. That way, she wouldn’t have to rewrite this God. Damn. Essay.
It sucks that she has to do actual work to get her degree, but what sucks even more, is doing the work and being told you’ve done it all wrong.
At first, Ellie was angry. Now, she’s frustrated. Tired. Was up all night writing this essay because she’s been waiting for this meeting for a whole week, and all the man did was say, you’re not actually answering the question.
“Fucking asshole,” she murmurs, pushing through the doors.
She reaches the quiet hallway of the humanities block, the dilapidated building stuffy with age. She misses her uber-funded science building. Misses the cool white and sleek edges. Here, there’s paper covering everything.
The hallways go round and round – lift creaks from the weight of students carrying War and Peace in their backpacks, year after year.
She’s near tears when she hears you calling her name.
“Els?” you ask, tone confused and edged with excitement. Ellie’s heart does its little familiar leap. She turns to you, sniffing the tears away. It’s been a minute since she saw you in the flesh. Her body aches, eager to touch you. “Hey,” she greets, the presence of you brightening her mood for a sweet second. You’re wearing a casual pair of black jeans and a band tee – Ellie owns a similar one, and for a moment, she thinks you’re wearing her shirt. “I was just about to text you –” you start, but your face twists, noticing hers. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Ellie lies. The tears push harder now, your concern making her belly flop.
You frown. “No, you’re not.”
Her lip wobbles.
“Ellie?” “Sorry, just – fuck --” her eyes are rimmed red, tears pushing over the edge. “—had a really shitty meeting with my tutor about my essay that’s worth like, 50% of my grade and I’m so busy with other work and—” a tear slips down her cheek, but you’re quick to take her in your arms, murmuring, “oh, Els,” as you cup her head and pull it into your neck.
She releases a breath, leaning her full weight into your body.
You smell like laundry detergent and coffee. Smell familiar. She’s comfortable here. It’s why she lets herself begin to cry against your shoulder.
“Awh, sweetheart,” you whisper, hands running up and down her back, soothing her like a baby.
“What did the feedback say?” “Have to change the whole thing. And I have enough time, but I have other work.” “Yeah, I can imagine.” “He basically said that if I submit this essay, I’ll fail.” “Well, you won’t, because I’ll hack into the system and change your grade for you.”
Ellie hiccups a laugh, “you know nothing about computers.” “I’ll learn for you. Take some night classes. What’s the essay for?” you ask, still rubbing her back. “English.” “I can help you if you want.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, come to mine. I’ll look through the question with you, and help you plan.”
Ellie pulls away, wiping her wet, red-rimmed eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. You help her, drying the dampness from her chin and cheeks, and smoothing her hair behind her ears.
She beams from your touch. Her body goes hot from your care -- belly flips over.
You hold her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Ellie thanks the Gods you texted her that day. Your smile is resolute as you say, “It’ll be okay. We got this.”
When you open the door to your accommodation, Ellie is mid panic attack. “You live in a sorority?” she squeaks. When you sent her the address earlier, she hadn’t really read it, too busy trying to calm her beating heart. Going to her house going to her house.
Now, she’s standing in front of you, and thinking – this is your house? There’s a teardrop chandelier hanging behind you, and the staircase loops around the entrance hall, feeding into the back of the house.
You frown, confused. “Yeah, did I not tell you?” “No – “Ellie bursts, clearly flustered, “-- you failed to provide me with that information.” She makes a mental note to text Dina, simply – what the fuck, man? “Is it a problem?” you wonder, leaning against the doorframe, comfortable in your home. (Wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy top, you know, comfortable)
You didn’t seem like a sorority girl. But what did that even mean?
You did have a lot of…spirit.
Ellie imagines you hosting mixers and philanthropy events.
(Imagines you wearing a lot of pink and jumpers with your sorority name on it and nothing else.) “I don’t really sell to frats or sororities,” she explains, because, yeah, that’s the reason she’s having a hot moment. She thought she knew a lot about you. This, right here, is a big deal, and yet she’s only now just finding out.
What else did she not know about you? You think for a quick second. “Oh. Well,” you smile, patting your chest, concluding, “I’m the exception,” and you take her hand and pull her in, closing the door behind her.
When Ellie’s in the house, she doesn’t let go of your hand.
Instead, she uses it to tug you closer, and your wrist pushes into her belly. “They let queer girls into sororities?” she whispers, close enough to taste the mint gum you’re chewing.
Ellie has ideas of girls on the straight and narrow. No girl kissing here, unless guys are watching. Ellie cringes at the cliché, but you’re not offended – hadn’t heard her thoughts, so, that would be why – as your lips pull into a sly smile.
You lean forward, a ghost of a kiss. Ellie’s throat squeezes. “They don’t know that I’m a queer girl,” you whisper back, the heat of your eyes all-consuming.
Ellie watches you shrug.
“They don’t know that at least a quarter of them are queer girls, but – they’re not ready for that conversation.” “But you’re out, no?” Ellie quickly stumbles. If you’re not out, then that really messes with her plans to marry you and meet all your family. “Yeah,” you shrug again, explaining, “they just haven��t asked,” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. In some ways, Ellie guesses, it is. She beams, “Well, they’ll ask when they see you hanging with me.” “What, why?” “Because I’m a known queer girl” “Oh, you have a reputation?” you quirk, and Ellie hums, “It’s possible I may have fooled around with some of your sorority sisters.” You chew on your lip, and cock your head to the side, “But did you share a really weird and intimate high with them where you cuddled all night, woke up mid-orgasm and then it made things super weird and odd to the point where you never really spoke about it again?”
Ellie grins, “No.” You shrug, “Oh, well. I win then,” and take her hand and begin to drag her behind you like a lost puppy dog.
She’s behind you on the stairs again, and you catch her staring when you turn to say, “Let’s go to my room.” As you drag her through the house, Ellie doesn’t see anyone, but she does hear the ominous sound of girl giggles and whispering. Heat blooms in her cheeks, as if she’s got omniscient eyes at the back of her head.
Ellie didn’t get along with peppy girls – too full of inner turmoil to match their happy-go-lucky attitude. The thought makes her clutch your hand tighter, and she speeds up, bumping her shoulders with yours.
“So, what’re the rules?” “Huh?” you ask, looking at her funny. The pair of you pass a group photo, and Ellie wants to stop and gawk – try and find your smiling face – but you tug her along, sensing her motives. “Like,” Ellie starts, stuck on her phrasing. “How should I be around you?” You frown up at her, deciphering her meaning. Slowly, your frown loosens. A small smile pushes into the side of your cheek. You squeeze her hand.
“Just be my Ellie.”
The pair of you go through Ellie’s question, and you help her write up a plan, noting all of her points and the quotes she should use.
Ellie tries to focus, but the whole time she’s thinking about how close you are to her – leaning against her, pushing your shoulder into hers.
She’s sitting on your bed in your room, and she’s hot all over as a result – smelling the scent from your burning candle and listening to the soft music you’re playing out of the laptop speaker.
Your walls are covered in posters. Pictures of you with family and friends and Ellie is surrounded by so much you that it feels like it’s always been like this.
Always been in your room, with her head on your lap, listening to your playlist – Ellie’s got Shazam out, but you’re just sending her the link. On her main phone, now – no busted one at the bottom of her bag.
She’s so busy being with you that she’s not wondering what she’s doing with you.
What are we? She wants to ask, but then your roommate decides to come in.
She pauses in the doorway, flinching as if she’s walked in on something intimate.
Ellie watches your eyes widen an inch, but then you catch yourself, smiling and waving. “Hey,” you greet, and your roommate – actually wearing a hoodie with your university name on it -- smiles, “Sorry, just grabbing my charger.”
“No problem,” you respond, and when she finally flicks her gaze to Ellie – kept on looking around her, like she was panhandling for money on the subway – her smile loosens.
She’s silent as she grabs her wire from her bed and doesn’t look at the pair of you as she leaves. When she’s out of the door, you get up and lock it. Coming back, Ellie gets comfy on your lap again.
“Did she look at me funny?” She’s not sure what your relationship with her is like, so she steps carefully. “I think she fancies me,” you casually explain, and Ellie’s belly flops.  “For real?” You nod, wiggling your brows. “Should I be jealous?” she jokes, and your lips curl, tongue peeking out as you run it across the backs of your teeth. “We were together, once.” Ellie tries to imagine the pair of you together, and she comes up blank. Though, that’s probably because she’s too busy editing the image to clip her face in. “Yeah?” “Mm, at a Halloween party.” You’re grinning too wide. “You’re just fucking with me,” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not! I was dressed as a cat, and she was this like, sexy nun or something.” “Really?” Ellie asks, raising a brow and pulling a face that says, you’re full of shit. “Fine – I won’t tell you then.” “No no, I wanna hear this.” “What’s with the tone? I thought you’d for sure want to hear about my sexual escapades.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” You pull your lips together and raise a brow. Ellie suddenly feels too hot. Suddenly wants to run very quickly out of your bedroom door. Butterflies swirl in her belly, blood rushes to her cheeks, to her neck, and she feels the tips of her toes go numb.
You’ve danced around each other with this flirty banter for a while now, but it means something more now that you’ve said it out in the open.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie lies, hoping the red of her cheeks isn’t too prominent in the warm glow of your bedroom. You don’t lose your pursed lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.
“Just hurry up and tell me about how you fucked your roommate.” “Say please,” you quickly rebut, and Ellie chokes.
The fuck? “What?” She laughs nervously, ignoring the quick electric bolt that shot through her groin, “fuck off.” “Fine,” you bleat, leaning back against the bedframe. “I won’t tell you then,” and Ellie shakes her head, proclaiming, “You’re insane,” and you grin at her, raising a testy brow, “It’s just manners, Ellie.”
When Ellie had imagined the dynamics of your relationship – but not relationship – it was you saying please. Preferably whispering it with your fingers in her auburn hair. Please Ellie, please do that again.
Ellie sits up from your lap, shaking the image away.
She takes in the curve of your brow, and the teasing slip of your lips. She dips closer – sudden, quick – and relishes in the way your mouth falls open an inch.
“I’m not begging you,” she whispers, not bothering to hide how mesmerised she is by your mouth.
“No?” you speak, matching her lazy tone. You nod to her, “I thought you’d be into that.”
Jesus fucking Christ, what’s happening right now? Ellie thought you’d help plan her essay and be done with it – she’d hoped for some flirty banter, but this was different. This was… Ellie leans closer, propped up by her hand that she’s planted beside your thigh. “If I say please, I want intricate detail.” “If you say please, I’ll give you whatever you want.” This girl…
“Whatever I want?” Ellie quirks. “Yeah,” you respond, and you press your forehead against hers, tone breathy as you repeat, “Whatever you want.”
Ellie can think of a lot of things she wants. For starters, she wants to close this gap and finally kiss you, but she says, “Please tell me your story,” and you smile, all teeth.
“It was Halloween.” “You said that.” “n, we were really drunk, and she’s like – straight straight, right?” You say straight like someone would say sorry. “Mm,” Ellie hums, her belly swirling. She hasn’t moved a fucking inch. Her palm is cramping, but hell if she’s going to lean away from you right now. This is a whole other kind of foreplay. “We’re in the bathroom.” “Here?” she asks, needing details – information. What day was it? Time?
You nod, and your nose brushes against hers. Her face blooms red again, and the brush of your touch makes her brain fuzzy. “We’re making out, and I thought she only wanted to kiss, but then she starts tryna take my top off.”
There’s a sincere edge to your tone. Your eyes are wistful, but you’re beaming – spurred by the excitement evident in Ellie’s eyes.
“Things get heated. She’s touching me everywhere, you know, hands just, between my legs, on my chest. Says she’s wanted me for ages but couldn’t say it, I mean, she’s got a boyfriend.” “A boyfriend?” Ellie asks, and fuck, that makes it worse. Or better? Either way, her body begins to ache like it did that morning – when it was just the pair of you and the world was quiet. Thrums electric and Ellie’s suddenly worried about the electric bill. “Yeah – frat boyfriend. Frat president boyfriend.” “Look at you, miss home wrecker.” You roll your eyes, “you want me to finish the story?” “I said please, didn’t I?” “You’re the worst.” “So…she’s taking your top off.” “Yeah. Then she’s taking my pants off, too. Then says, she’s never been with a girl before, can I show her?” Ellie pulls back with a groan. She can’t help it. Pulls back and falls into your lap, imagining you showing her how to fuck.
Her eyes are glazed over, like she’s somewhere else, thinking, about something else. She rubs her face and listens to your sweet giggle.
“Sorry,” she says, settling back, and you hold your hands up.
“No worries, take your time.”
Ellie waits – patiently. Waiting for you to divulge more information. Please carry on, she thinks. Please please please.
She feels like a kid at camp listening to the teens tell a ghost story around the campfire. And then what?
“You made her come?” she whispers, failing to hide the excitement in her whisper. A small, thoughtful smile finds your lips, and you lean down, hair brushing over her face.
Your thigh pushes into the back of her head, and you smell like a forest.
Your room smells like a fucking forest. Pine and vanilla.
The lights are dim, cloaking the room in a warm glow. She swears she hears trees swaying in the distance, but she realises – faintly – that it’s just the blood rushing in her ears. No trees here, she thinks. No bloody forest.
You’re looking down at her, eyes glittering in the warm light. After a stress-filled silence, you nod, whispering, “against the wall, cat ears still on. Made her come so hard it was dripping down my chin.” “Jesus,” Ellie whispers. Her legs fidget, trying to squirm from the warmth pushing between her thighs. She pushes her hair away from her forehead, even those it’s already tucked behind her ears. “Then what?” she asks, moving in your lap. Then what then what.
Your lips curl into a small smile, “Then we never spoke about it again.”
Ellie feels her eyes go dark with the memory. Imagines a film over them — lost in her own brain. Pictures you crawling on your hands and knees, on the prowl with your cat ears sitting pretty.
What was it you said again? That she was dripping all over your chin?
Her tongue peaks through her lips, pretty in pink, and she notices your small smile curve wider. Though, it’s not kind. It’s edged with something, as if you’ve made a funny and she doesn’t get the joke.
Ellie’s belly drops.
A laugh bursts out of your mouth, and she freezes. Nononononono, you didn’t. “I’m sorry—” you start, hiding your smile, and Ellie’s lips open in shock, then she’s snapping to -- jumping up from your lap, red all over.
She’s looking for her coat, hands shaking “nah, that’s not funny,” she’s saying, all while the faux image of you between a girl’s thighs buzzes behind her eyes.
It was her. She was the girl. She’d even imagined taking your cat ears off and putting them on her head. “Yeah, it was – Ellie,” you laugh, reaching for her hand, and Ellie’s body reacts to the touch.
You spin her into you, pouting, “Come onnnnn, I was playing.” “You’re mean for making that up. You’re a horrible person.” “Awhhh, I’m sworry. I’m sworry, come here –” You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck. Be mad. Ellie thinks. Be mad be mad be mad—oh, but you’re so soft and warm.
She falls into you, hands catching your hips — holding you steady, as her head pushes into the curved gap between your throat and shoulder. You hold the back of her neck, hugging her close.
“I’m sorry, that was mean.” “Made me all worked up,” Ellie admits. The all-familiar ache is back. Then again, it’s never far when you’re around. “Yeah?” you quirk, the tone saying: tell me all about it. “Mm.” “Thinking about me with another girl?” She breathes a laugh, then breathes in your scent, the smell causing her to hold your hips tighter.
“You gotta write my essay now, make it up to me.” Your laugh rattles against her body.
“What you on about? I gave you free material to think about.” “What?” she laughs, squinting her face together. She pulls away, and you look up at her, chewing on your bottom lip.
You glance down at her mouth, and a breath gets caught in her throat. “Nothing,” You grin, and she cocks her head to the side, tightening her grip on your waist. “No, tell me. You made fun of me, you gotta tell me.” “I don’t have to do anything, Ellie.” “I’ll get it outta you.” “Yeah, how?” “You won’t know until it happens.”
“Weirdo,” you scoff, pulling away. “Let me walk you home, they wanna do a group meeting about some charity event later.” “Ooo, little miss sorority girl.”
You smack her chest, “Hey!” but Ellie grabs your hand, laughing as she pulls you into her, catching your hips again. You gasp in surprise, hands catching hers, and your chest pushes into hers.
She feels you focus on the cavern of her eyebrow scar, then the dust of freckles over her nose. The wild brush of her eyebrows, and the small, circular, chickenpox scar on her cheek.
Ellie gets confident or forgets the proximity of your relationship — nothing new — and rests her forehead against yours.
The world gets quiet.
The buzz of your music fades out, and all Ellie can hear is the small, clipped, and shaky sound of your breathing.
Your eyes flutter closed for a brief second, and Ellie wants to kiss you. Always wants to kiss you, but this is different. This is new and sudden and sweet. It’s soft. Gentle.
Your fingers graze over hers, and she imagines holding you like this forever.
Imagines doing this, as often as she likes.
All you’ve done together, and you haven’t even kissed yet. Ellie gazes at your wet mouth.
“Wanna come to mine? We don’t even have to smoke; you can just help me with the intro to my essay.” Your lips twist, and a small smile appears. “Ellie,” you whisper, tinged with a double meaning. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I can’t,” you whisper.
She breathes in deep, eyes closing as she presses her forehead against yours. “Not even for a second?” “Ellie.” “Please?” she whispers, looking at you, and your face falls. Your mouth opens an inch, the red of your tongue alluring. When you don’t respond, Ellie slowly dips lower and tentatively brushes her mouth against yours. Your breath catches.
The skin of your lips is pillow soft, and for the first time, she’s able to taste your lip gloss from the source.   “Doesn’t please get me anything I want?” Ellie hushes. The music has bled into the background, a hum in the walls of your room. It rattles through her toes and dances through her chest, forcing her heart to thrum with life. Your eyes are half-lidded, lashes brushing over your cheeks when you look at her mouth. “That was a one-time deal,” you manage to tease, despite the nerves radiating off of you. “So, I can’t kiss you?” “I never said that.”
Your tone is dangerous. Ellie’s lips quirk into a smirk. “I didn’t say please though?”
There’s a heated 30 seconds where you pluck up some courage. Ellie can hear the cogs turning in your pretty little head before you conclude that, “manners are overrated,” and press your cherry lips against hers, sticky and artificially sweet.  
The world stops in that movie magic kind of way.
Reality flutters to a pause, the music switches off, the natter from your roommates downstairs goes quiet, and Ellie can no longer hear the constant anxious beating of her heart.
It’s just you and your mouth – the press of your lips, no tricks, just the delicate touch of yours against hers.
Ellie is 15 again and playing truth or dare at that camp her uncle forced her to go to.
She’s picking dare and kissing Jessica Carter, the daughter of a man that owned a slew of Ice Cream shops in Salt Lake, and it means so much more to Ellie than it does to Jessica.
She feels the electricity of the kiss pulse throughout her body, like she’s got her soapy fingers in a light switch socket, and as she pulls away and Jessica laughs – giggles, cupping her wet lips, I can’t believe we just did that – Ellie feels the cavern in her chest close just an inch.
She was about to thank her, but then she thought better of it.
Pulling away now, there’s no Jessica, it’s you, and you’re pressing your fingers to your lips like you’re holding them out to a cat, nervous as to what’s going to happen next.
Ellie leans her forehead against yours, lips numb.
You’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Then you kiss her again.
Ellie stumbles back from the shock, but you move with her, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed frame.
She makes a quick decision – pulls away and gets back onto your bed, hoping you follow her down. Thankfully, you do – quirk a nervous smile and knee walk over to her, spreading your legs and clambering onto her lap.
You sit back on her thighs with your knees pressed against her hips.
The position is a memory re-lived, except this time, you’re both alert – no sleep to mask the feeling, just the nerves pulsating through your veins. New new new, it’s saying.
Ellie reaches out and steadies your hips.
Taking a shaky breath, she slips her thumbs under the fabric of your shirt and runs the length of your shorts. The skin there burns, heat radiating off of you like a furnace, and it’s as if you enjoy the touch, as you take Ellie’s hands and cup them with your own, keeping them against your skin, before dragging them around your hips.
Ellie catches your eyes, breath lodged in her throat.
It stays there while you run her fingers up and under your shirt, painstakingly moving her hands over your stomach, over your rib cage, and Ellie’s heart swells in her chest as the tips of her fingers feel the underwire of your bra.
Ellie can’t decide what she wants.
There are too many options – kiss you, undress you – and she so badly wants all of them all at once. When you finally drag her palms over your breasts, she feels your nipples pressing through the thin and lacey fabric, and her belly swirls, the pressure pushing low.
Your breath rattles in your chest. “You okay?” Ellie asks, and instead of answering, you bow down to kiss her.
This kiss is different. It’s desperate. Tinged with the need to tell Ellie it's okay, it's okay, as you slip your tongue in her mouth. She groans.
It’s deep and low, echoing around the room, and there’s a fleeting second where Ellie is embarrassed, but you swallow the sound down, hips reacting, pressing into her crotch.
Ellie aches with the memory of before.
She wants to tease you, wants to say, you gonna come like this again? but you drag your lips over to her neck, and she whines pathetically.
Oh fuck, she thinks. Ellie goes liquid, like syrup. She melts into the mattress, hands relax on your breasts, and just – lets you pepper kisses over her throat. Let’s you run your tongue under her jaw, and her hips buck in response. Jolt up into your crotch, and your breathing changes, now coming out in long, deep pulls.
You mark her neck with your mouth, and Ellie feels the suck of your lips in her gut. Her hands go exploring, sliding over your tits, and she rubs her thumbs over your nipples, listening for your breathing stutter.
When you mumble a desperate fuck, into her throat, Ellie suddenly wants you on your back.
She knocks the pair of you over, and you fall back onto your mattress, grinning up at Ellie with a wild smile. You take her in. Eyes flutter over her like butterflies, taking in her statue as she sits on top of you. Suddenly, though, your smile changes. Goes nervous.
“What does this mean for us?” you whisper, and Ellie shakes her head, moving to kiss you again. Now on top, she swells with the feeling of control.
“Don’t think about it,” she mumbles, then tastes cherry again.
Ellie’s a hypocrite because all she does is think about it.
Up all night in bed, thinking about it. Thinking about how she wants you as her girlfriend, but she hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet.
Doesn’t know about your family. Your friends. Doesn’t know your favourite movie, or colour. All she knows is your weed order. The thought makes her sick with shame.
The mumble of her name coming out of your lips brings her back.
You stuff her shirt in your hands, and Ellie wants it off.
Wants your hands all over her, wants to grind her hips into yours like you did hers, with your hands on her hips guiding her.
“Wanna see,” you mumble, tugging at her shirt, and Ellie’s skin prickles.
She drags her hips back, the seam of her jeans pushing against her crotch, and sits up straight. She grins, all teeth, then fists the shirt, pulling it up her chest. The lines of her muscles are revealed, along with a few white scars that dot her stomach and back. She’s wearing a casual cotton bra, but you look at her as if she’s donning silk. “So pretty,” you whisper, blinking up at her, and that shame that sat inside of her dispels. You slide your hands over her chest, and the warmth of them pushes into her bloodstream. “Pretty?” Ellie quirks, needing something to distract herself from the languid movement of your hands. You trail your fingers over her ribcage, then push your pointer up her breast bone, mouth open an inch, ignoring her, and Ellie’s limbs go jelly.
You’ve got your goddamn explorer hat on as you drag the base of your palm between her tits, your spare hand lazily rubbing her hip bone.
“What’re you doing?” she asks, words coming out as a breathy whisper. You flash a small smile, “committing you to memory.” A dangerous pressure builds in Ellie’s heart. Her cheeks bloom red, her skin prickles, and she feels light-headed, as if you’ve removed all the oxygen in the room.
You hook a finger around the elastic of her bra and tug her forward. Ellie catches herself on the mattress beside your head just as you kiss her, pushing your tongue into her mouth and crotch up into hers.
She shudders.
The kiss is all tongue, desperate, as she bumps her nose against yours to taste you. She’s preoccupied with your mouth, so she doesn’t notice your hand sliding between her thighs. When she does, she forgets how to kiss. “S-Shit,” Ellie stutters, caught off guard. Your touch is gentle, just, lazily rubbing your fingers into her jeans. There’s a lot of fabric between you, thus Ellie’s left the chase the friction.
Resting her forehead against yours, she clutches the sheets beside you, rolling her hips into your hand. She blinks at you, opening her eyes, and you’re staring at her like she’s an artwork – trying to memorise every brush stroke.
You bump your nose against hers, flexing your palm. Ellie hums again.
“You sure you wanna do that?” she jokes, clutching onto any semblance of sanity. You give her a lazy smile, lips wet with her spit. “’s ’only fair.
“Not –” Ellie starts, but chokes, your knuckle just hitting the top of her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed, mouth opening an inch, and you must sense the shift, because you keep your hand there, nodding, knowing what she was going to say before she said it.
“Gonna make you come 'cause I want to, not ‘cause I have to.” “Fuck – okay,” Ellie relents. There’s no way she’s going to leave in the middle of this. She can’t. She’d probably collapse mid-way. A pressure pushes between her thighs, hot and constant. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she whispers something. Sounds like your name.
Been a minute since she’d had a hand other than hers between her legs.
Ellie lazily chases your palm, thinking that If she moves too quickly, this moment will poof into a dream. Doesn’t want to scare it away.
To hide her red face, she nuzzles into your throat, roles reversed from that morning, except Ellie didn’t have her hand between your thighs. She tells herself it’s her turn to do that next.
You pop the button on her jeans, and Ellie glances down at your hands, seeing/feeling them tug at the band.
You turn into her head, “Jesus, these painted on or something?” and Ellie breathes a laugh, “Didn’t expect someone else taking them off.” “I need easy access from now on, only sweatpants.” “Noted.” Your smile goes silly, “preferably those grey ones you wore when I came over that time, when I made you dinner.” “Thought you liked those ones, caught you staring at my ass.” “No you did not.” Ellie kisses your neck, “It’s so sexy when you gaslight me.” You huff, “You gonna help me take them off, or watch me struggle?” and a slow grin builds across Ellie’s face. “Wanna see you work for it.” “Well, you’ll be watching for a while. Enjoy the show!” you joke, trying to drag the denim off of her hips. You grunt loudly, brow furrowed as you tug.
Finally, you throw your hands up with a huff, then pout and cross your arms. Ellie’s leaned back at this point, and she mimics your face.
“Defeated by The Gap,” Ellie sighs. “I’m gonna put in a complaint. Tell them that their stupid jeans stopped my girlf—” you catch yourself, eyes widening.
Ellie goes still.
There’s a second where she hears the crowd cheering in the background, but it turns out it’s a kid crying on the street outside.
“What did you just say?” she asks, tone filled with awe. She cannot help the shit-eating grin that splays across her face. It’s so big that you have to cover your face from the shine. “I said nothing.” “Um, I heard something.” “You didn’t hear anything.” “I heard the word girl and then an ‘F’ sound.” “You didn’t! I’m telling you; you’re hearing things. Going crazy.” “Ummmmmm,” Ellie drags, squinting down at you.
She tries to pull your hands away, but you won’t budge. “I heard something!” “I was going to say, girl fellow!” “Girl what?” Ellie laughs, eyes alight with humour.
“Yeah—” you start, pulling your hands away and masking your features. You’re a beacon of control.
“Girl fellow. It’s this new thing I coined. A girl who is a fellow, as in friend.” Ellie squints, “Fellow means boy, you weirdo.” “No it—” you frown. “Does it?” “Yes, have you not seen Robin Hood?” You pause, “No.” “Oh my god!” Ellie erupts. “How have you not seen Robin Hood? I used to be obsessed with it.” “Everything makes so much sense now.” “The fuck does that mean?”
You push your hands into her hips, fingers tickling. “Do you have a pointy bow and arrow at home? A little green hat?” “Shut up,” Ellie laughs, trying to bat your hands away. She catches them. “That makes so much sense,” you start, joking around, “You’re far too into social justice.” “How are you bullying me about world change? You just called me your girlfriend!” “Fellow!” you correct. “That means girl boy!” You grin triumphantly, “Welcome to the 21st century, Ellie.” She rolls her eyes, “you’re so annoying.” “Your jeans are annoying.” “My jeans are cute.” You point a finger at her, “I’m gonna fight your jeans.”
Ellie dips low and kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “mm, my money’s on the jeans,” and you wrap your thigh around her ass, using it as leverage to roll her onto her back.
You suddenly slide down, standing at the edge of the bed and shoving your hands into the band of her trousers. With a determined look, you manage to pull them down, “fuck your jeans.”
They end up on the floor, and Ellie’s left in a pair of boxers and her bra. She’d clap for you if she wasn’t so suddenly dazed. You appear on top of her, and she automatically wraps her arms around your shoulders, humming contently as you kiss her.
When her brain comes back to reality, she manages to switch positions again, knees pressing beside your thighs. With a tentative touch, you trace your hand over her stomach, distracting her with the wet of your kiss.
When your fingers touch the band of her underwear, Ellie’s breathing changes. It’s all suddenly real.
“Wanna stop?” you breathe, tone sincere and gaze gentle. Despite the bubble in her chest, Ellie has never wanted to continue something more. She shakes her head, eager. “Fuck no.”
Your sweet giggle distills the tension. “Good,” you grin, sliding your fingers lower, “wanted to do this since I met you.”
The tips of your fingers drag over her clothed pussy, gentle and soft. Ellie releases a shaky breath.
There’s just a piece of flimsy cotton stopping you from skin on skin, but she’s so wet that it feels that way, anyway.
Her eyes flutter closed, the sensation lulling her, fueling her with dopamine, and she buries her head in the crook of your neck, flexing her hips to meet your hand.
You drag the corner of your knuckle up her clothed slit, pushing into her clit when you get to the top. Ellie groans quietly, and you grin into the side of her head, rolling your knuckle into her, and she moans.
“Fuck, s’good.” “Yeah?” you ask, and Ellie nods. Propelled by her quiet desperation, you twist your hand and push a finger against her damp clit – the wet fabric showing the lines of her pussy – and roll it gently.
The fabric in the way makes it dirtier, more desperate, and makes Ellie moan pathetically into your neck, forgetting you’ve got roommates. She chases your hand.
Hips stir up, wet heat coiling in her belly and pushing into her cunt. Is this what you felt? That morning in her apartment?
The fire is quick to rise, and it’s only been a couple of minutes of her grinding into your palm when her pussy clenches, heat pushing at the back of her clit.
“Mm,” she hums, inhaling a shaky breath. Her thighs begin to shake. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” she hushes into your ear, and she swears she hears you whimper. You turn to look at her, and pout, “Want it on my fingers, Ellie,” you admit, eyes innocent, wide with wonder, and Ellie’s jaw clenches.
Her hips lose their rhythm, and how the fuck is she in control right now? She doesn’t feel that way. Feels like she lost any semblance of control when you flipped her over and pulled her jeans off. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Shit. Take my – fuck,” she stumbles, and you push your fingers under the band of her underwear, asking, “Can I?” in such a pure tone that Ellie has to close her eyes and breathe through her nose. “Yeah baby,” she nods, “s’okay. Fuck. It’s okay.”
You drag your fingers through her pubic hair – eyes on her the whole time – before you stuff your pointer and index against her wet clit. You start to roll the nerve, and Ellie chokes on her spit. Her body shudders.
She’s in your goddamn dorm room in your sorority with your hand down her pants.
You’re watching her intently. Glazed eyes gazing at her features, fingers controlling the way her brows furrow and cheeks bloom red. It’s wholly intimate. Ellie’s slick coats your fingers.
“So hot, Ellie.”
Her body flushes – she has to bury her head in your neck again, where she nods. She grinds her cunt into your hand, forcing you to press harder and roll quicker. “Mm, fuck,” Ellie swears, spit dribbling over her lips, drunk on your fingers, “Fuck, m’ gonna come.” She feels the familiar pressure behind her clit, the heat that sears – almost painful. You twist into her, nodding, saying, “Give it to me El’s.” Then, “please.”
The wave rushes up and pulls her under, rendering her voiceless and still, before it crashes, and she gushes over your hand, chasing the spin of your fingers as she shakes. “Mm, god, god, shit” she whimpers, voice muffled by your neck, trying so hard to keep quiet, but fuck, she’s not in control of her body. She clenches the duvet as her pussy clenches and un-clenches, clit spasming, whole body slick with sweat.
Her hips grind into your fist, eyes rolled back, mumbling curses into your throat, and she’s clenching the duvet so tight that her knuckles go white.
Then someone calls your name.
You freeze. Fingers go still.
Ellie wants to cry, but somewhere in her drunk mind, she realises the severity of the situation.
When you don’t respond, your name gets called again.
“Fuck,” you curse, then “Ellie, baby, I’m sorry, you gotta get off of me.”
Ellie manages to find the energy to roll off of you, and you get up, legs stumbling before you reach the door.
“Y-Yeah?” you call out through the wood.
Ellie lays boneless on your bed, breathing deeply through her nose. Her boxers are pushed low, pubic hair on show, but she doesn’t have the power to sort herself out.
She should be nervous at the idea of being caught, but fuck, her clit still throbs with the memory of your fingers. She languidly blinks at the ceiling, trying to calm her heart.
How the fuck did that just happen?
“Meeting soon, you coming?” the faceless voice calls, and you mumble a curse before saying, “Yeah! Gimmie a minute.”
When you turn to her, Ellie’s already gazing at you. You quirk a small, sad smile, and Ellie nods, understanding.
“Lemme just,” she starts, rubbing her face, “find the energy.” You giggle at her. “Let me help you put your stupid jeans on.” Ellie props herself up by her elbows, beaming, “My top down there, too?” “Got it.”
She manages to shove her jeans on, wincing when she knocks her sensitive clit. You eye her.
“Listen, I—” you start, clearly flustered. You motion to her, “—Would take better care of you after but.” “Whoa – what?” Ellie cuts you off, shoving her shirt on with a frown.
You purse your lips, “like, cook you dinner or kiss your forehead or something.” “You’ve already cooked me dinner, and you can kiss my forehead whenever you want.” “I mean. I don’t usually make a girl come and then dip.” “Oh,” Ellie frowns, “But this is different.” You pout, “Still feel bad.” “Don’t,” Ellie firmly spouts. She takes your hands and kisses your forehead. “I feel good, you should feel good.” “It was good?” you ask, suddenly lit up and eager to hear more. Ellie laughs. Her body is filled with a warm, buttery feeling. She’s still drunk on you, lethargic from coming, and she doesn’t have the space to panic.
Her subconscious tries to tell her everything that has happened that should cause her concern.
She nearly called you her girlfriend, then made you come on her double bed with a flowery bedspread. Now she feels bad because she doesn’t have enough time to give you adequate aftercare. Dude.
Still, Ellie shows no alarm when she kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll call you.”
It’s only when she gets home, looks in the mirror and sees her lips glittery with your lip-gloss, that reality sets in.
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reverie-starlight · 16 days
Text
{peace - atsumu}
would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
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putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!
very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3
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“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.
it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.
atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.
he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”
you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”
he freezes a little out of pure shock.
atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.
he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.
he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.
however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?
and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.
“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.
you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”
he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”
you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”
he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.
“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”
you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.
he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.
but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”
he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”
you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”
he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”
he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”
you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.
“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”
your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”
“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”
you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”
he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.
you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.
he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.
“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3
hope you enjoyed :)
some tags :3
@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring
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kleewie · 2 months
Text
i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)
summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)
→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)
→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)
→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!
credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!
beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!
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the debut.
“forbidden?” you repeat.
“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”
you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.
you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.
besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.
remembering it now, you want to laugh.
i told you so, your thoughts chastise.
god, you should've listened.
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childe, the actor
“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.
your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.
you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.
childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.
but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.
for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.
the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.
yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.
“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”
you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.
as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.
eight months, you've been a couple.
but, there are some things you're afraid to say.
each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.
yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.
you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!
it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.
so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.
“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.
two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.
“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”
you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”
“then what is the problem?”
childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.
he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.
“me?” childe whispers.
he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.
“why?” he pleads.
“you won't understand.”
“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”
you hesitate. you tell him and then what?
you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.
your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.
so, you shake your head firmly.
“tell me, please.” he whispers.
you cross your arms, and look away.
“are you sick?”
you shake your head.
“somebody hurting you on set?”
again, you shake your head.
childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”
“no!”
“then what is the damn problem?”
“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.
childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.
is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.
“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.
you keep your mouth firmly shut.
“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”
childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”
with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.
leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.
more under the cut!
despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.
he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.
surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.
stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.
he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.
however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.
the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.
a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.
as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.
the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.
“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”
the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”
“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”
“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.
you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”
“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”
you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”
“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.
irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”
childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”
you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”
“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.
“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”
he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”
your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”
“publicity, baby.”
you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”
“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”
“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”
he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.
“you're terrible.”
“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”
a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”
childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”
“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”
childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.
“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”
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bonus: five years later
your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.
‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.
‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.
‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.
you even receive a message from childe himself.
‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’
attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.
you click the link.
the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.
a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.
the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.
“um. hello, childe!”
the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.
the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”
childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”
the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.
but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”
quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.
to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”
the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.
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ayato, company director
“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”
friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.
dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?
god, you need a drink.
the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.
who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.
but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.
you swallow the thought down.
as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.
not now, his expression conveys.
you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.
so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.
it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.
you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.
suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.
“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”
you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”
ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”
you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.
a friend, he says to his business partners.
a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.
a companion, he whispers to his family.
you're sick and tired of it. all of it.
raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.
ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”
soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.
you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”
“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.
you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”
before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.
“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”
he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.
you swallow the bitter thought.
“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.
ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.
ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”
“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”
her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.
“they're just close friends, you know.”
you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”
ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”
sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”
“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”
“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”
“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”
you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.
you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.
you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.
however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.
and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?
you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.
even from you.
and the thought sours your mood.
excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.
you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.
“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.
you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.
maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.
“what did you discuss with kokomi?”
“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”
“answer the question.”
he smiles, “business as always.”
you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”
ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.
you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.
“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.
you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”
“don't toy with me, darling.”
as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?
last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”
yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.
if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.
but he didn't.
so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.
your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.
if only he didn't ask.
“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”
ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”
you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”
“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”
your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”
anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”
ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”
he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.
ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.
although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.
but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.
he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.
he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.
instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.
“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”
ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”
“yes.”
“they'll catch a cold.”
“they will.”
he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”
“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”
ayato stays silent.
“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”
he sighs.
“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”
after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.
“can we talk?” he begins.
you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”
“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.
“i know.”
“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”
“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”
he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.
you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”
“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”
“i'm so sorry.”
“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”
relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.
the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.
“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”
“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”
he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”
a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”
“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”
“no.” you scold.
“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”
you laugh, “prove it.”
your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.
“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”
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bonus: ten minutes before the clash
“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.
ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”
“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”
“they do.”
“have you told them?”
“...it may have slipped past my mind.”
kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”
ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”
“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”
he chuckles.
“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”
“they asked me to when we started dating.”
she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”
“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”
“sadistic.”
“kokomi?”
she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”
“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”
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author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).
so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.
plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)
631 notes · View notes
in2heartz · 8 months
Text
ot8 comparing you to their ex - hurt to comfort
wc - 6495
warnings - angsty, comfort, comparing to ex, mentions of overworking (reader + other person), crying, self criticism/issues of self worth (reader + other), fighting w hyunjin + jeongin a little bit, mentions of bad past relationship (members), petnames (angel, sweetheart, honey, baby, babe), cuddling. that should be it but lmk if not :))
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
chan
“i just don’t understand why you won’t at least try. it can’t hurt to take a break for a little bit. maybe just a day or two?” you suggested to chan, your boyfriend who could now be seen with his head down on his desk and his arms brought up around it.
“it’s not that simple,” he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair.
“i understand, chan. trust me, i really do. but i don’t think the company will mind if you just take the weekend off… there’s nothing too crazy coming up anyways.”
this caused him to snap. his head instantly shot up and he looked at you like you had 3 eyes.
“nothing crazy coming up? are you insane, yn? and do you think this nagging helps at all? it’s not always about being busy. every day i have to come here and hear what everyone else has to say, now my girlfriend too? - was never like this. god, it’s exhausting.” he yelled, fists coming down to the desk and the loud bang making you jump.
“maybe you should go back to -, then. i’m sure she’d know exactly what to do, christopher.” you held back tears at your own words, and the second you walked out of his office, they all came streaming down.
you could barely see anything as you walked back to your apartment. you knew it wasn’t safe to be walking around at night in this state, but after chan said what he said, you couldn't care less about your safety.
the one thing that made all of this sting more was that you knew chan couldn’t feel anything as of now. he’d get so wrapped up in his anger, unable to think of anything else but what was pissing him off. for hours after you left he sat there sighing, throwing old water bottles, kicking the wall, whatever he could do to try to get all his emotion out. he hated not being listened to and at that moment, that’s all you were doing to him. he didn’t even mean to bring up his ex, it was all heat-of-the-moment words that he didn’t think about before saying.
by 3 in the morning, he had finally realized what he did wrong. he knew how much you hated his ex-girlfriend and how hurt you probably felt at the comparison to someone who treated him so awfully. now, he was sighing and kicking his feet over his actions, rolling his eyes at his stupidity and lack of respect for you.
at around 5 am, you were suddenly woken up by rapid, harsh knocks on your door. you groggily stumbled to the door, cracking your neck because you fell asleep slumped onto your kitchen counter.
“yn, let me in, please. i need to fix this…” he croaked, sounding groggy himself.
“chan, we’re not doing this right now. it’s like 5 in the morning and i have to go to work in a few hours.” you said through the door, contemplating on letting him in or not.
it would hurt to let him come in and talk, but it would hurt more to leave him out there. you also knew even if you did leave him there, he wouldn’t shut up.
“look, i know i made a mistake and i won’t stay here long, i promise. if you said that to me, i wouldn’t want to see your face either, so i’ll make it quick.”
you groaned, sliding down the door and flopping onto the floor.
“fine. seriously make it quick, chris. i need to be up in a few hours.”
“okay, okay. i’m gonna sound like a broken record because we do this too much lately. but i’m shutting you out because i’m under a lot of pressure and you’re my only hope of relaxing. and i swear this isn’t an excuse, i mean it. i depend on you so much for comfort and peace and i know that isn’t fair and i want to work on it-“
“chris, you’re already rambling.” you murmur.
“i’m sorry, i’m just nervous and i feel guilty… i’ll make it short, now. i was really fucked up lashing out at you like that, but also for comparing you to someone who is so dead to me. i take you for granted, sometimes. i’ll admit that. all you want for me is the best and i just can’t see it. i don’t know if it’s my insecurities or whatever it is, but from now on i’m going to work on it and i’m going to do whatever you tell me to. i trust you and i love you, yn. i hate saying it, but i’m sorry. i don’t want to hurt you anymore. please forgive me..?”
it was tough, but you forgave him. sure, it could’ve been the lack of sleep or the fear of your relationship crumbling, but you did it anyways.
he held you close that night, much tighter than usual. you even think you heard him cry himself to sleep, but you didn’t mention it. small words of,
“im so sorry… you let me hold you like this and it makes me feel like you’re a piece of glass just seconds from shattering. you’re too good to me…” or “i promise im never going to hurt you again. my angel. my perfect, precious angel. god, how could i be so stupid and make you feel like this? who even am i…”
despite this, his words manifested. he kept a clean mind and clean mouth, always listening to you and trying to have a positive mind. he came home every night and sang or cuddled you to sleep, even if it meant that he’d have to peel himself from you to finish up one last segment of the song he was working on. he was tough with apologies, but he always kept a promise.
minho
one of the first things that made you attracted to minho was the way he made you laugh. you had a specific sense of humor and somehow minho matched that perfectly. he loved making you laugh too. he doesn’t know how, but whenever you came around the jokes just came to him and it was like he knew exactly what to say to hear that pretty laugh of yours.
though, as you continued with your relationship, sometimes the jokes got a little too far. of course, he never meant to hurt you or say them on purpose, he just loved a bit of teasing. he thought the blush on your cheeks and the way you playfully slapped his chest was so cute that it egged him on even more.
tonight was one of those nights that minho had you in a laughing fit. you were nearly on the ground from how hard you were laughing, clutching your aching stomach, and wiping the tears off your face. it was all fun and games until he said the worst joke you’ve heard in your whole life. and it wasn’t the worst joke ever on purpose.
“i remember one time i made - laugh so hard she peed herself. too bad that’s gone.” he rolled his eyes and giggled, trying to imply his sarcasm.
it didn’t work.
you instantly stopped laughing, got up from the couch, walked straight to your bedroom, and locked the door behind you.
he remained on the couch and blinked, trying to process what he had done wrong as he was just making you laugh more than he’s seen in his whole life. he went back to all the things he said and practically slapped himself in the face when it finally clicked. he thought to himself, how could i make such a stupid fucking joke?
he softly walked to the door, lightly knocking on it.
“yn? sweetheart? can you let me in, please?”
there was no reply. he stood for a bit before trying again,
“honey? i’m sorry. just let me explain myself, please? i know it sounded bad, but it came out wrong.”
you were curled into yourself on the ground by the door. you couldn’t reach your bed in time because the tears clouded your eyes before you could even try walking to it.
“go away, minho.” you kicked the door in response to him.
his face turned sour at the sound of you using his name. he didn’t like that, not one bit.
he decided to give you some space because he didn’t want to upset you further. he cleaned up the living room from the remnants of your night in, switched out the laundry, and cleaned up the kitchen. his eyes were burning and his body felt heavy, he looked at the clock and realized it was 2 in the morning.
he sighed and walked over to the door again, almost knocking but deciding to just see if you had finally unlocked it. when he opened the door, his heart dropped and he was greeted with an instant wave of guilt.
you were curled up on the floor, still in just your shorts and a tee shirt, but you also had his sweatshirt tightly held in your arms. he wanted to punch himself right then and there. instead, he kneeled to you and brushed the hair out of your face. looking at you with so much love, but feeling so much hatred for himself filling up his mind.
“sweetheart? you need to wake up, honey. you can’t sleep on the floor.” he whispered.
his heart melted when you nuzzled your face into his leg with a soft smile on your face. even in your sleep and when he pulled the most douchebag move, you still loved him so much.
he told himself he’d talk to you properly in the morning as he always prioritized you getting proper rest. he lifted you into the bed and tucked you in nice and tight. this night he didn’t resist your need to cling to him, too. he let you wrap yourself around him and scooch your face right into his neck.
he had to fight back tears just a little bit,
“my yn. how could i take away such a beautiful noise from you? we were having so much fun and i ruined it just like that. took away that cute laugh and that pretty smile. i can be so stupid sometimes. i always worry about losing you or not being good enough for you and then i say something like that… it’s stupid. i know it was a joke, but that still doesn’t make it okay. i don’t even want to think of how you felt. all curled up on the floor freezing like that… god, how stupid can i be?”
he kissed your forehead and stroked your head, looking down at you so fondly and thinking about how he wanted to keep you protected and shielded from all the bad in the world. he rehearsed in his head exactly what he would say in the morning and how he’d make it up to you. maybe he’d get up extra early to cook your favorite breakfast. he’d put the cats in those matching outfits you bought for them but he always laughed at so you never put them on. he’d take you out to a nice restaurant, maybe let you sleep in extra long so he could go out and buy you a new dress just for the occasion. he had lots of ideas that he knew would never take it back, but at least would hopefully show how much he loves you.
changbin
he knew how easy it was for you to get overwhelmed with work and he usually knew how to handle it. he’d let you talk it out with him whether that be through ranting or wanting his advice. he’d give suggestions on what you should do to make yourself better or what you could change to make things work out on your end.
however, you were only human and sometimes these things just didn’t work. you’d get too in your head, far beyond help and struggling to even get out of your bed in the morning. he’d be out of the house by then, so he couldn’t do much to encourage you to get up and go on with your day.
you started to take advantage of this. you took more days off or came home earlier than usual. he could tell you seemed happier, but almost too carefree. it was common that you’d have at least one bad day at work during the whole week, so as the days went on and you were still doing just fine, he became a bit concerned.
“i noticed you haven’t been going to work as much. is everything okay?” he asked while washing up after dinner.
“oh yea, everything is fine. they’ve just been giving me a lot of time off,” you explain.
“really? you’d think with everything going on that’s the last thing they’d want to do.”
you ignored him and continued reading your book on the couch. you could see him from the corner of your eye and all he did was shrug at you and go back to what he was doing. you expected that was the end of the conversation, but it sure wasn’t.
“i know you’re lying to me and i don’t like it. we don’t do that in this relationship. why won’t you talk to me so we can figure something out?”
you sighed, “it’s not that simple, changbin. i’m not lying, i just don’t feel like explaining.”
he rolled his eyes at you and turned to face the wall.
“- never did this. lied and tried to hide from me.” he mumbled.
your heart dropped to your stomach and you felt like you could puke right then and there.
“hm?”
“nothing.” he replied.
“no, i heard what you said. say it again.”
“you know i didn’t mean it, yn. just go to sleep.” he groaned.
he was right. he didn’t mean it and just slipped up. that’s all it was.
except, even though he was right, it didn’t feel like him saying it out loud was. you tossed and turned all night thinking about what he said. you compared yourself to her so much as is, that his words stung even more.
eventually, your constant moving around woke him up.
“yn? why are you still up? what time is it?” he groggily asked.
“um… it’s three in the morning.”
he shot up in the bed, “what?! did something happen? why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”
suddenly, the tears started flowing. you didn’t even feel like you had to cry or you at least didn’t notice before he woke up. his arms wrapped around you and he pulled your face into his chest, shushing you and telling you you’re okay.
“what’s going on, yn? you can talk to me. i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. just tell me what’s wrong so i can try to help you.”
“was already having such a bad week and then you said something about your stupid ex and made it even worse!” you sobbed, making his hold on you get even tighter.
“oh, baby. i’m so sorry. i didn’t even realize i said that. i’ve been so tired lately, i can’t even think straight. you know i would never want to compare you to someone like that. i’ve just been worried about you and i hate when you lie to me.”
“i don’t mean to lie… i’m just embarrassed. i don’t want you to think i’m lazy or something. i just got so overwhelmed and i couldn’t do it anymore. and i didn’t want to make you more stressed or-.”
he knew he had to calm you down, so he pressed his finger to your lip.
“you don’t have to explain, babe. i know how hard it is. let’s just focus on getting some rest now and we can talk about it in the morning, okay? i promise i didn’t mean what i said and i love you more than anything. we’ll get through this together.”
“you promise?” you asked, looking up at him.
he kissed your forehead, “i promise.”
hyunjin
one of your favorite things about hyunjin was his love for art. he put so much thought and passion into his work, treating his pieces like they were his children. as this passion seemed to consume hyunjin, it consumed his time along with him. the issue wasn’t that he wanted to spend time on his art, it was that he got obsessed and toiled with it. he’d overthink every flaw or every color, analyzing every little detail and trying to work around all of them.
his eyes would be burning and red, his lips cracked and dry, his hair unkempt and messy. he was the human embodiment of getting lost in artwork.
you wanted him to fall in love with his art, not resent it but then indulge and fixate. he didn’t know when to take a break and when he got into these phases, he pushed you out. literally and figuratively.
you softly knocked on his studio door, “hyune? will you come out for dinner, please? i’m starting to get worried.”
“i’m fine, yn. i just need to finish this piece and then i’ll come out.” he replied.
“sweetheart, you’ve been saying that for three days… would it help if i came in and checked out what you’re working on? i know sometimes it helps you get some creative flow, hm?”
“this is different, lovely. i just- i can’t talk about it right now, i need to focus. i’ll come get dinner later, leave some on the table for me.” he said. all you did was sigh in response.
you were used to him getting like this every once in a while and it was mostly the stress that it put on him that bothered you. you could tolerate time apart as both of you enjoyed your alone time, but when he got like this, it was so different. he didn’t need his good morning kisses or his goodnight cuddles. he didn’t have food requests or feel the need to tease you about letting him shower with you. it was like all the life got sucked out of him and splattered onto a canvas.
a few hours passed and his dinner was still untouched and cold. it was getting annoying having to do this routine every night. not only were you wasting food, but you were also cleaning up all over again and just getting yourself worked up before you had just a few hours of relaxing.
“hyune, i know you’re busy, but i need you to come out and eat something, okay? i’ll make you something else if you want, i don’t even care at this point as long as you eat something.”
you heard what you assumed to be paint brushes clatter onto the ground and a grumpy hyunjin stomping towards the door. he pulled open the door with force, exposing his exhausted face and paint-covered hands. he looked drained from the inside out. he was pale, his face looking thinned, his hair still a mess. you took it all in before he took a deep breath and spoke,
“yn. i understand you want to help, but i. do. not. want. it. i’m not a baby, i can take care of myself, now please leave me alone.”
you blinked at him and before he could shut the door all the way you heard him mumble,
“- was never like this.”
for a moment you thought you misheard him, “hm? what was that?”
“i said, - was never like this. she let me do whatever i wanted when it came to this stuff. so just let me be. i’m used to it.”
you blinked at the door, this time with anger. you kicked it open with a force you didn’t know you had in you.
“there is no fucking way you just said that to me, hyunjin. all i want to do is take care of you and make sure you’re okay, and that’s what you say to me? and you know what you’re right, she did let you do whatever you wanted. you know why? because she didn’t care. but, guess what, i do, hyunjin! i care so much! i make your meals every day, but you don’t eat them. i run you a bath or a shower, you don’t get in, i try to get you to open a window or just come to bed for one night, and you don’t. i’m sure - was just fine with all of that, hm? so if that’s what you need, you go get that.” you screamed.
it felt like the wind got knocked out of you when you walked away until he grabbed your wrist and it all flooded back in. the second you felt his touch after weeks of being away from it, you broke down, making him break down too. you both sobbed into each other, wrapped up in arms and legs once you both collapsed to the ground.
“i don’t know what’s gotten into me… i’m so sorry, i should’ve never let it get this bad again,” he wailed, stroking your head to try to calm himself down.
“and i should never compare you to someone else, let alone someone like her. you’ve done so much for me and i haven’t appreciated it at all, who even am i? why do i do this?”
you sniffled through deep breaths, trying to gain composure and reply to him.
“hyunjin, it’s not your fault… you’ve always struggled with this, it’s just been a long time since the last episode so i got so worried about you. i know you didn’t mean what you said, but it still hurt me.”
“i know it did, yn and i’m so sorry for that. you know i’m better than this… it's just once i start, i can’t stop and it controls me. next time please just come in. even if i yell, just come in. because the second i see your face it will all go away.” he replied.
“my jinnie, it won’t happen again. i promise you. we will work on this together from now on, okay?”
“okay… i love you, my angel. i don’t want to hurt you like that ever again and i promise i won’t. never again.” he whispered, pressing kisses to the top of your head and pulling you closer into his hold.
han
it was late at night and you and han both finally decided it was time to get some sleep. you were close to falling asleep until you couldn’t ignore how much he was tossing and turning. you’d hear him flip sides, groan, and flip again. until finally, he called for you.
“babe? you up?”
“yes, jisung. i am up. what’s wrong?” you didn’t mean to sound a little harsh, you were just tired and wanted to rest.
he sighed, “i can’t shut my mind off.”
“talk to me then, babe. what’s on your mind?” you said.
“i don’t want to upset you, but i just can’t stop thinking about how - used to treat me. sometimes i wonder if i deserved it and that maybe i shouldn’t be with you because you’re too good to me… or that maybe there is something wrong with me and you’re just with me for the same reasons she was and i just- i don’t know how to feel about anything anymore.” he blurted.
you stayed staring at the ceiling and blinked for what felt like 30 minutes but was probably only 30 seconds.
“fuck. babe? im sorry. that came out so wrong. can i hold you? please?”
“you’re anxiously rambling, jisung. i’m fine.”
“no, you’re not. i know i fucked up so just let me fix it.” he admitted.
you blinked back tears and turned away from him, curling your arms around yourself and hoping he’d get the message and just go to sleep himself.
“i’m not going to sleep without explaining myself whether you’re awake or not, so just please listen. i don’t mean that there’s something wrong with you, i just mean that sometimes i don’t understand how lucky i am to have you. or, how much you love me. i’ll just think to myself, how could anyone love me when i’m like this?”
“like what, jisung? do you even know how important you are to me and how amazing you are? even when you say stupid shit like that, i still can never change how much i love you. why can’t you just accept that she’s gone and i’m here now?” you spat.
he brought himself closer to you, pulling one of your hands into his and squeezing it.
“i can accept it and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i’m just scared you’re going to leave me like she did and if you did that, i don’t know what i’d do… it just scares me, yn.” he admits.
“well, you have nothing to be scared of, jisung. because i’ll never leave you. you never have to worry about being treated like that ever again, okay? just don’t say those things anymore… i’m always here to talk to you about it, but you need to learn how worthy you are of love.”
he teared up at that and now fully threw himself on you. he smushed his face into your neck and told you how much he loved you, promising that he would never think that way ever again.
felix
you and felix have been together for nearly a year and the more felix thought about it, the more he wanted you to move in with him. he couldn’t help but think about the fun he’d have with you and how much he craved to see your domestic side more often. he loved waking up next to you and being able to take care of you, so moving in with him would make that much more achievable for both of you. as much as you wanted all of this as well, the thought scared you. you never lived with your past relationships or even with friends and you also found a lot of comfort in living in your own space.
“i don’t know, felix… it just makes me kind of nervous.” you muttered. he pulled you into a hug in response.
“my yn, there’s nothing to be nervous about. we can make a whole plan together if you want, yea? i’ve wanted this for so long and i think it would make both of us so happy. we both want to improve and grow in our relationship, so what harm could living together do?” he asked, looking down at you with a soft smile.
“i just worry because sometimes we both need our own space. and what happens when i’m here alone while you’re gone for a long time? won’t i get lonely because i’ll be so used to having you around? i’m just scared that we’ll be making a mistake.”
as much as he wanted to hear you out, your words were starting to hurt his feelings. he didn’t think you’d ever be so dismissive about doing something so special together.
he stroked your cheek and sighed,
“well, why don’t we just try for a month? i can give you money for your rent, i don’t mind. not if it means i get to have you here every day.”
“felix, i know you’re excited but stop being so adamant. it’s my decision too. i’m just not comfortable with it yet.”
he separated himself from you and began walking toward his room before muttering,
“- was never like this.”
“excuse me? what did you just say?” you questioned, completely taken aback by what he said.
he slammed the door to his room, leaving you in the kitchen and with a silent invite to leave.
you spent the night crying in your bed and thinking about what he said. in your whole time knowing him and dating him, he never brought up his ex. she was mean to him and took him for granted, using his money and taking advantage of his kindness whenever she could.
felix also thought about what he said all night, crying just as much as you, if not more. he hated his ex and was disgusted with himself for even bringing her up, let alone comparing her to you. felix also hated any kind of arguing, so he decided to reach out to you in hopes that you’d hear him out and have an actual conversation with him.
you stared at the phone ringing, hesitating to pick it up and hear his voice again. you were worried he’d tell you to come get all your stuff and not even bother being with him anymore. he wasn’t like that, but all you could do was overthink.
you finally picked up,
“yn? love? you there? are you okay?”
“i’m here. not okay, but here.”
he sighed, already choking up hearing how sad you sounded.
“i know you probably don’t want to hear it, but i want to explain myself. i acted like a child tonight and i shouldn’t have said what i did. we both know the only reason she moved in and you wanting to do the opposite of that should’ve been where i ended the conversation. i always think about living with you and how happy it would make me, but if that’s not what you want, i have to respect that. i’m so sorry once again. i know i hurt you and disappointed you and i’ll never forgive myself for it. i understand if you don’t want to talk to me or even if you’re done with me… i just needed you to know that i genuinely did not mean what i said.”
“felix, you’re lucky i love you so much, or else i’d be at your house with a crowbar and then hers too. i know it was a mistake, but it better not happen again.”
he laughed, “from now on you’re getting whatever you want and more just so you know how much i love you, princess. i’m sorry again and i swear i’ll never stop saying it until you know how much i mean it.”
you unexpectedly showed up at felix’s apartment 20 minutes after the phone call, falling asleep in each other’s arms and wiping the tears off of your faces. he knew you loved him and you knew he loved you, the one thing the both of you needed to finalize was an all-night-long cuddle sesh.
seungmin
you and seungmin were in the kitchen working on making dinner. it was his request to make it with you because he missed you even more than usual that day. whenever he missed you a lot, he always wanted to have some nice quality time with you. whether that be something like making dinner or watching a movie, maybe taking a walk or showering together, he was happy regardless of what it was. you were too.
you were mid-chop when you heard him laugh to himself,
“what?” you asked, grinning at his cute giggle.
“oh, it’s nothing. just a random thought.”
“tell me! that’s not even fair! i tell you everything!” you poked him in his side and got on your tiptoes to get super close to his face.
“okay, okay! i just laughed because - never did this with me. that’s all. see? random thought.” he simply said.
your toes dropped along with your head and shoulders. you turned around to keep chopping, holding back the tears that were burning in your eyes. he shrugged and continued with his stirring until he heard you sniffle.
“you okay?” he asked, turning to look at you, but you had your back facing him.
“yep! just the onions.” you laughed, but he could hear the pain through it. he knew what your real laugh sounded like, it was obvious something was wrong.
he walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your neck,
“what’s wrong, pup? talk to me.”
the pet name sent you over the edge and you instantly started crying your eyes out.
“i just- i don’t understand- how could you-“ you jumbled your words through your sobs and seungmin was caught off guard.
“woah, woah, woah. just breathe for me, yea? are you okay? deep breaths, babe.” he coached you through it, making sure you were taking deep breaths and slowing yourself down.
“that’s it, babe. now can you tell me what’s wrong? what’s got you so upset?” he said, rubbing your back and looking down at you.
“i just… i don’t understand how you could say something like that to me… about your ex.” you sniffled and pushed your weight back onto his chest.
he held you tightly,
“oh, sweetheart, i didn’t mean it like that, babe. i’m sorry. you know i would never compare you to someone like that, right? it just made me laugh because i couldn’t believe how lucky i was. who at our age do you know that is cooking their favorite food in their kitchen with the love of their life, right now? no one. i’m lucky. that’s why i laughed, pup. no other reason, i promise.” he said.
“you scared me…” you pouted. “and i don’t want to hear her name ever again and you have to promise me that i won’t. i love you too much to think of how she treated you. her name doesn’t deserve to come out of that cute mouth.”
he squished your cheeks,
“my baby, you’re so cute. i promise you’ll never hear her name ever again. i love you more. let’s finish cooking, kay?” he suggested, kissing your forehead as his way of sealing his promise.
you both continued with dinner, this time with his arms wrapped around yours and doing all the work for you. he wanted you close.
“minnie?”
he hummed at you in response.
“i want to do this with you forever. even if it means that sometimes you need to let stuff out about that stupid bitch. i’ll still listen. i just got emotional because i took it the wrong way, but you know you can always talk to me right?”
your sweet words tugged right at his heartstrings.
“i know, sweetheart. i’d do the same if i were in your position. i’m always here for you, too. crying or not.” he smirked, getting a little kick out of teasing you.
“yea… i can’t promise talking about it will make me not cry, so… we might have to learn how to work around that…” you admit.
“that’s okay, pup. i’ll be here for all the ups and downs, no matter what.”
jeongin
he could explain it over and over again- that he didn’t mean it. except, jeongin didn’t even realize he was doing it in the first place.
you’d have your casual conversations back and forth about whatever it was, and sometimes he’d unintentionally bring up his ex-girlfriend. you’d wince at the mention of her name but also at the thought of him enjoying the time he spent with her when they were together. they didn’t necessarily break up brutally, but it wasn’t in the nicest way either. knowing this, you could never understand how it was so easy for him to bring her up so often.
“yea, i remember when i was with - she always hated movies like this so we never watched them. you’re the same. they’re my favorite, but i guess i understand why people wouldn’t like them that much.” he simply said, continuing to eat his snacks and staring off at the screen.
“do you always have to do that, jeongin? just compare me to her and then go on with your day? like your words wouldn’t affect me?” you asked through tears.
“what do you mean to compare you to her? i’d never do that. i just brought up that she didn’t like these movies either cause she just didn’t.”
your sadness quickly turned to anger. how did he not realize what he was saying and how it affected you? it always made you shut down. you’d tear down your confidence and happiness with the way his words made you overthink.
“you make me feel like i’m not good enough for you… like you went through all of that with her and want to do it all over again or something.” you confessed, wiping your tears away and looking at the ground.
“yn, how could you ever think that? i love you more than anything, i don’t even want to think of her. it just came to my head for some reason. i’d never want to make you feel like that.” he said.
“well you do. and if you don’t want to think of her why do you always bring her up? we go grocery shopping and you’ll laugh at some stupid food she hated or say that when we’re arguing i sound just like her. i don’t understand… if you hate her so much why do you always compare her to me?”
he thought for a while before speaking,
“it was never like that, i swear! i think it’s just my way of reminding myself how i got so lucky with you. i went through all of that with her and now it’s just a lot easier for me to laugh at the stupid things she did. but i can promise you it never had anything to do with you. to be honest, i didn’t even realize i was doing it all this time and i’m so sorry for that.”
you crawled over to his side of the couch and curled yourself onto his lap, sniffling and wiping the remnants of your tears off your face.
“just promise me you won’t do it again now that you know? i never said anything because it hurt me so much, but i also figured you didn’t realize too… i should’ve said something earlier…” you acknowledged.
he shook his head, “i won’t let you put this on yourself, yn. it was all my fault. i should’ve known that it wasn’t okay. i promise it will never happen again and if it does, i give you full permission to do whatever you want to me. you could beat me up and not talk to me for weeks and i would understand.”
you nodded and he hugged you tighter to him, using one of his hands to rub up and down your back and the other to run his fingers through your hair. you fell asleep on him just like that and he silently cursed at himself for ever hurting you the way he did. he made a promise to himself that he’d protect you from anything he could for the rest of his life, no matter what it took.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
note - i have to admit that some of the members were so much harder to do than others bc i just can’t see them ever doing smth like this even by accident 😭😭. i hope everyone likes this tho <3 i love writing hurt to comfort. long fluffy minho fic next !!! plan is 12k words but we’ll see!! also apologies if there are errors i wrote all of these at like 2 am 😍
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.
AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3
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“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”
Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”
You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.
Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”
You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.
“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”
He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.
So fucking beautiful.
“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”
Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"
It's all I want. You think.
"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.
You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."
That's all I want. He thinks.
Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"
He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.
and it'll crush him.
The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."
"So?" He asks.
"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."
It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’
The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.
So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.
Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.
"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.
Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.
You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."
“Stop that.” He seethed.
It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.
Never with you.
Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.
"What--"
He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.
“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”
“Eddie…”
“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”
You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.
Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.
It’s overwhelming.
You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?
His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.
Fuck it.
“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.
You exhale his name, “Eddie,”
“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”
Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?
Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”
He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”
Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.
“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”
With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.
“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”
“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”
Warm warm warm.
It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.
Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.
There’s no one but you.
You’re everything.
I love you, please, let me love you.
Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.
“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.
Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”
You nod, “Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”
“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”
He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”
Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"
He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.
"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."
You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."
Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.
"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.
Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"
A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.
You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."
You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"
You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."
Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."
"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."
He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.
"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."
"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.
You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.
"God, yes."
He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.
"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."
Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"
He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.
Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.
"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”
The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.
“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.
He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”
You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”
Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.
“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.
“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.
The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.
Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.
Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”
You’re both breathing heavy.
Now it’s his turn.
Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.
When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.
God damn...he's fucking huge.
"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"
Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.
"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."
"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.
You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.
"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.
His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"
You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.
"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.
Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.
Such a good girl.
Taking me so well.
My pretty girl.
Mine.
Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.
"Eddie, fuck, I--"
"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."
His words are like a spell.
You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.
"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"
You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."
"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.
He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.
"Hi." He says quietly.
You giggle softly, "Hi."
"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."
You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"
"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.
Nothing.
You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."
Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"
You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."
He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.
Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."
Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."
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ofswordsandpens · 3 months
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I've enjoyed episode 3 the most so far, but I think the show is still struggling to find a good balance between taking itself seriously and the absurdist humor that RR writes with. My main takeaways:
The Fight Scenes (or Lack Thereof?)
It seems very peculiar to me that the show is just speed running through its battle scenes. Again, it feels very much like the product of Disney trying to sanitize anything that's too extreme?
The trio fleeing from the kindly ones in the book ended with Percy taking control of the bus and then crashing it. It explodes. They lose all of their stuff (money, food). In the show, they simply bail out the back window. No true panic. No tension. Just, okay :) we're leaving now :)
The Medusa Scene. I'll speak more to this later, but in terms of the fight we get to see... well we get to see nothing. Apparently this fight required us to view it through the lens of the invisibility cap (ie. not at all),
I understand this show is intended for a younger audience, but the books are as well. Even the movies, which are pg, came up with better ways to show things without necessarily showing things. As a result, it feels like anything that might induce the slightest bit of tension or fear are sanded down and its honestly doing such a disservice to the books and the audience.
Medusa
I actually really liked this portrayal of Medusa. The 1950s housewife vibe landed well for me. And I loved the actress's voice -- very soft and soothing but always sounding as if she were just about to cry.
Also, I really liked her dialogue. Her digs at Athena and Poseidon were perfectly tragic.
That being said, I really prefer the trio's arrival to the emporium in the book. In the books, they've been wandering the woods and are lost and exhausted and hungry because of the battle/bus crash where they've lost all of their stuff. It almost feels like the emporium popping up "out of nowhere" was more of it finding them.
Meanwhile in the show, Grover finds it through scent on a satyr path and they immediately know its Medusa, which imo takes out so much of the fun of it all??? In the books, they dont know. Grover's just like, freaking the ever living fuck out, and clearly Percy and Annabeth have let him take sole custody of the shared brain cell, cause they're more concerned about getting some food than anything else
Just... RIP dumbass shenanigans
And honestly, I'm not really sure what necessitated the change here in the show (of them not being tricked). It would have been one thing if they were going to change Medusa entirely to not wanting to harm them at all, but imo, I think its arguable/evident that show Medusa was looking for an excuse to petrify Annabeth and Grover (at minimum) regardless of anything.
Honestly, I would have had the show loosely play it out as: book arrival (they dont know its Medusa), keep the dumbass energy and banter, the trio figures out it Medusa while they're eating, Medusa is the more sympathetic version we see in the show, regardless it still ends with the battle.
Also, I do mourn the book battle. The panic and absurdity is just handled better imo. Annabeth shoving them off the bench, Grover flopping all over the place with the shoes but actively getting a good few hits in, Percy having to use to the reflection to behead her... the #TeamWork was emphasized a little more there to me.
Characterization
I think the show is absolutely nailing certain parts of the characters.
They've gotten Percy's anger and his derision towards the gods down. But, I think they're actually underscoring some of his, idk, sincerity? His kindness? It was the line "she met a pinecone's fate" that just rang off to me. While undoubtedly funny, it's just such a stark difference from his reaction to Thalia's story in the books, where he was unsettled by her fate and felt a sincere sympathy for her. The line in the show I assume is meant to criticize the gods, but still, it feels like it comes at the expense of the sensitivity that he has.
They've gotten Annabeth's bluntness, intelligence, pride, and superiority down cold. No question about it. But I feel like they just need to let her be more of a 12yo kid?
Like. In canon she and Percy banter and argue over the silliest of things. She plays hacky sack with Grover and Percy. She blushes and hyperventilates when Luke interacts with her. Episode 3 is like the first time we've gotten to see her do something remotely childish (buying all that candy) and I'm just dying for more of that!! She's not the "mom" of the group and she has her canon dumbass moments. I'm hoping more of this is captured moving forward. They've gotten a good start on the banter, but let Annabeth be more silly! Cause she is!
(Absolutely none of my personal qualms about the characterization are Walker or Leah's fault. They've done amazing. It's the writing/directing I'm side-eyeing).
OH! And I'm sorry but Percy being like "Annabeth we're going to bury medusa with your hat on" would have never ever flown with Annabeth. In no world.
But Grover eating them up at the end? Iconic. Good for him.
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flametrashira · 6 months
Text
MUZAN x BOOBS 5
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A continuation of Muzan's epic titty sucking adventure, in which Muzan gets his titties sucked in both his male and female forms.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Pairing: Muzan x F! reader
Warnings: Muzan drunk on Marechi blood. NSFW. Nipple play. Muzan's male and female forms. Lactation. Sub!Muzan. Approx 750 words.
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You stumbled through the door, struggling beneath the dead weight of the Demon King as he groaned in your ear.
"Carefll..." he said, slurring his words slightly. "If y' hit my head on the door frame I'll eat you too."
"Oh hush." You set him down on the bed and watched in despair as he flopped backward, fully clothed but spreadeagled. He never could hold his Marechi blood.
"Tits," he muttered, his lips barely moving as he made his demand.
"Nuh-uh, not tonight. You bite when you're intoxicated."
The whine which escaped Muzan's lips was just about the most pathetic sound you had ever heard. "What good are you to me if you refuse me? Give me one reason why I shouldn't just devour you now and be done with you."
His threats were empty; he made them every day, just like his insults. Cheap slut, wretched harlot, wanton whore; he called you everything but your name.
Drawing a determined breath, you decided to give him exactly what he asked for; a reason to keep you. After all, it was about time he was on the receiving end.
Carmine eyes widened as you straddled his waist and pulled open his waistcoat and shirt.
"What are you—?"
The wet heat of your mouth on his nipple rendered him silent, the flicker of your tongue over his hardening bud had quite the opposite effect. Muzan gritted his teeth and let out a low, breathy growl.
"How do you like it?" you whispered, before placing one of his nipples between your lips and sucking hard enough that his hips bucked beneath you. You pinched the other between your thumb and forefinger, teasing it while he covered his eyes with his forearm. "Do you like when I use you for your tits?"
"Nghh... you dare..."
The pale skin of his chest pebbled as his breaths shivered from between his parted lips. You lapped and swirled your tongue, offering him no reprieve. A broken moan emerged from him. and though you could only make out a sliver of his face beneath the shelter of his arm, you could swear you saw his cheeks stained pink.
You grinned. "Oh yes, look at you, my cheap slut. You love this, don't you?"
Muzan's chest swelled beneath your eager mouth as he drew in a deep breath. "Silence!"
You bit down, pulling a gasp from him, though whether it was shock, pleasure, or indignation you didn't know— or care. Perhaps if he wasn't so blissed out from the Marechi blood, he may not have allowed this to continue, but despite his grumbling he remained pliant, moaning wantonly as you licked and sucked his nipples.
"Such a vocal harlot, whimpering for me to keep sucking your tits..."
His lip curled, exposing his fangs as his body began to shift and change beneath you. Hard muscle was replaced by soft curves, those same crimson eyes stared back at you, but his face was entirely changed into that of a beautiful geisha.
And his tits... Gods, they were soft, his nipples larger, already hard, his areola puffy from your ministrations. You licked and bullied his buds with the tip of your tongue, pulling whine after desperate whine from Muzan as he writhed beneath you.
Every sound, every cry you drew from him tightened a coil deep in your core, and from the way Muzan's breaths staggered, you knew he fared no better.
The Demon King's composure snapped, his senses overloaded with pleasure. He raised his arms above his head, interlocking his fingers, surrendering to you entirely.
"D—don't stop," he gasped, his back arching toward you. "Please... please... I'm—"
Sweet ambrosia flooded your mouth, his nipple squirting warm milk over your tongue as you continued to suck and lick. And all the while his legs trembled, his body shivered, and his breaths turned to ragged gasps. He damn near sobbed into the crook of his elbow as his pleasure reached its zenith.
You could only guess at how long it had been since he last experienced such a release, but from the sounds he made, you were certain it was long overdue.
"So good," you whispered as he fought to regulate his breaths. "Making yourself so pretty for me."
"Hm." He chuckled, though his irritable tone was returning by the second. "You're fortunate I permit you to get away with such impertinence." Releasing a heavy breath, he returned to his male form, resting the knuckles of one hand on his forehead. "Though I think I will permit you to do it more often."
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pupkashi · 4 months
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hii can you do Gojo and reader doing skincare with each other?
thank you so so much !!
a/n: thank you for the request this is so cute hehe :3 just a short little drabble as i work on a couple longer pieces i can hopefully get out soon ! i hope this was okay idk how i feel abt it :P
“okay you have to keep a straight face once i put this on you or else it’ll mess up” you say, looking at your lover with a stern face, “okay?”
satoru huffs, flopping onto his back before springing back up with a nod, “alright fine I’ll sacrifice my amazing sense of humor for-” he squints his eyes as he reads the label of the container in your hand, “10 minutes?!”
“oh please you aren’t even that funny” you laugh, rolling your eyes when he claims he already made you laugh.
“put on your bunny ears and sit still” you demand, throwing the headband at him softly, smiling fondly when he pouts at you. “if you sit still I’ll give you a kiss,” you bargain, mixing up the mask in its container with the small spreader.
“3 kisses, minimum” his hands crossed across his chest, an attempt to be intimidating.
“two kisses, max, and you dont look intimidating with cinnamoroll ears, you look like a cute little bunny,” you grin, kissing his blushing cheeks before placing two kisses on his lips.
satoru remains still as you apply the mask, alternating between staring at you and fluttering his eyes shut. maybe he could go the 10 minutes without laughing.
his first mistake was asking to apply the mask to your face, because he was already wanting to giggle from just how softly you were looking at him.
“toru stop smiling it’ll crack!” you pout, watching as he fought back a smile as he spread the mask on your face.
“okay, I’m done laughing- only sad thoughts now,” he shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath and continuing to apply your mask.
his second mistake was looking at the pair of you in the mirror, bright green masks covering 95% of your faces, lips trying their hardest to not break into a smile.
you knew from the very beginning the mask would crack, it was impossible for the two of you to not smile when you were in the same room for longer than 30 seconds at a time.
for the first couple of minutes the two of you closed your eyes and relished in the silence. until satoru’s stomach cried out for help, and you had to stifle your laughter.
“you hungry?” you asked, eyes opening as you turn to look at your lover.
“no, i think i have to use the restroom,” he frowns, hands clutching his stomach as he jumped out of bed.
“oh my god,” you bit your lip, ready to give up on the face mask when satoru walks out of the restroom only a couple moments later.
“false alarm,” his face completely blank as he settles into bed next to you once more. “how much time is left?”
“6 minutes.”
“you’re lying to me, it has been much longer than four minutes!” he groans, “life is so hard when i can’t talk to my funny, amazing, beautiful, perfect, sweetheart,” he sighs.
“life is so peaceful when i can’t talk to my boyfriend,” you sigh, eyes opening and seeing satoru looking at you with the biggest frown on his face you’d ever seen, “I’m kidding! life is so terrible without my angel boy,” you reassure, a smile almost breaking onto your face.
silence settles between the two of you for a second.
“so, the weather” he asks, the two of you staring each other in the eyes before a smile breaks onto both of your faces, incessant giggles and back to back snorts filling the room as the two of you topple over in laughter.
“the weather? really?” you cry, smacking his leg as you continue laughing.
“you weren’t even talking! i was at least trying!” he laughs, tears rolling down his face as he wipes them instinctively, the mask rubbing onto his hands and making him frown.
“well the masks are ruined,” you check the timer on your phone, “how do we still have ten minutes left?” satoru asks, looking at him with a straight face when the timer goes off.
“thank god it’s over, let’s wash this off immediately so i can get my kisses” he grins, bounding over the restroom with his bunny ears flopping with him.
he’s quick to rinse his face, patting it dry with a towel before letting you do the same, watching as you moisturize your face and instruct him to do the same.
when the two of you are finally back in bed satoru looks more rejuvenated than ever, eyes bright and skin dewy as he smiled at you.
you could help but giggle, a small ‘what?’ leaving your lips as he hums in reply, taking you in his arms and pulling you as close to him as he could.
he could smell your body wash and your shampoo mixing together, he could smell his laundry detergent on his shirt that you stole. he figured this is what home smelled like.
“i love you, sweetheart,” he mumbles, placing feather kisses across your face, grinning when you laugh softly.
“i love you more, angel boy,” you sigh happily, “but you suck at skin care.”
satoru whines, falling ontop of you in protest, “next time i won’t mess it up i promise! today was just too good of a day to not laugh with my lover.”
you roll your eyes, not a hint of annoyance or attitude as you reply, “oh really? because that’s what you said the last three times we tried.”
“everyday is just perfect when it’s with you,” he grins, picking himself up and vigorously placing kisses across your face, only stopping when you push him off you gently.
“fine we’ll try again next time,” you smile, “now let’s go to sleep im exhausted.”
you didn’t really care about the masks or if they’d really help your skin or if the two of you ever made it the whole 10 minutes without messing it up.
all you cared about was spending time with your lover
taglist (send and ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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moonlightspencie · 11 months
Text
Wrong Time
Description: Dean doesn’t know how to act right. Sam doesn’t get the animosity. Reader is just trying to live life. Otherwise known as Mutual Pining: the Fanfic.
Pairing: jealous!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader, platonic!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: jealous dean :), minor angst, spells and other supernatural things, plenty of fluff
Word Count: 6.6k
A/N: originally posted on tumblr like 3 years ago (rip in peace to the like 3k notes it had). then posted to ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.
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I walked into the bunker after Sam and Dean, throwing my bag down as soon as my feet hit the floor. I shuffled into the library, noticing Castiel at a table on a laptop.
“How was the hunt?” He looked up at me.
“It was crap,” Dean answered gruffly. I took a chance look at him, and he shot me a glare that could kill. “I’m taking a shower.”
Sam watched his brother stalk past. “I— it was… Fine. I mean, something almost went wrong, but we all ended up okay.”
Cas nodded slowly. Then he noticed my expression. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? You look unwell.”
“It was my fault.”
“(Y/N)—” Sam started.
“No, Sam, I mean— I was stupid. I almost got myself killed. I would have been if Dean didn’t find me first.”
“Still wasn’t your fault, we all make mistakes.”
“What do you mean you almost got killed?” Cas interjected.
I huffed a sigh, sitting next to him. Sam took a seat across from me.
“Well, we walked into the vamp nest, and started going to town. It seemed like it’d be pretty easy to take care of, but then I heard a boy crying. I went to go look for him, and— and I saw him. He was in another room, probably about 15, 16 years old. I didn’t think anything of it and went to go help him, but he… I was wrong. He was turned, just trying to get his prey to come to him, apparently.”
Cas furrowed his brow. “What happened? Are you alright?”
I absentmindedly scratched at the table.
“I am now, I guess. I set down my machete like a fricken idiot, letting my guard down, and he jumped me. I tried grabbing it to fight him off, but he kicked it out of my grip. I thought it was the end of the line until Dean came barging in and got him off me. I was so stupid, he’s pissed.”
Sam reached across, brushing his thumb over the knuckles of my now-closed fist. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We got out okay. It was just a mistake.”
“And Dean—,” Cas began, “He is… It will be alright.”
He gave a kind smile as he said this. I tried one back at him before standing up and giving a quick goodnight. As I walked to my room, I hovered by Dean’s door before thinking better of it. I hated when he was angry with me, but figured I better not upset him more by barging in on his alone time. I hated when any of the boys acted coldly towards me, but Dean’s always cut the deepest for some reason. I wouldn’t let myself think on why that is for more than a few seconds, though. I walked to my room, changing into an oversized t-shirt and flopping onto my bed, essentially passing out.
I woke up in a cold sweat, tears wetting my face. I sat straight up, trying to catch my breath. My fingers gripped the sheets as I tried to keep my cool, but to no avail. I got out of bed, walking out of my room, and heading a few doors down. I knocked quietly before entering.
“Hello?” I spoke, voice wavering. I walked towards the sleeping figure, gently nudging his shoulder. “Sam?”
He rolled over, slowly opening his eyes. “(Y/N)? What’s going on?”
I wrung my hands.
“I— I had a nightmare. I can’t be alone right now,” I said, trying to hold back tears.
“Oh. Oh, okay, yeah, come here,” He replied, sitting up and scooting over. I sat next to him, pulling the covers over my legs as he threw an arm around me. “You alright?”
“I don’t know.” I leaned into him. “It was about the hunt. Except, it wasn’t me. I mean, I still went and found the boy, but, um, when Dean came in this time he— the kid knew somehow, and attacked. I tried helping, but I couldn’t move, and then… Then they, they got him. And it was my fault. He died.”
I noticed a few tears had escaped my eyes, and I rubbed at them quickly.
Sam hugged me into his side. “I’m sorry. That’s really tough.”
I nodded.
He continued, “But, you know, it was just a dream. We all got out, we’re all okay.”
“I know, but what if we didn’t? It would’ve been on me, it would be my fault.”
“There is always a “what if” when we do the things we do, and focusing on that is only going to cause you pain. Don’t do that to yourself,” Sam sighed, laying down and taking me with him. “Dean just needs to let this go, don’t let his attitude make you feel stupid.”
I nodded again. “Thanks, Sammy.”
“Anytime, kiddo. Now, let’s go to sleep. C’mere.”
He pulled me into his chest, letting the hand that wasn’t around my shoulder rest near my rib cage. I closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was waking to Sam’s snoring in my ear. We’d separated during the night, but my head was still against his arm, our legs still caught up together. This put me in a predicament as I tried to move away from him without waking him. I somehow managed to wiggle out of bed, and land on my feet; thankfully Sam was a surprisingly deep sleeper. I tiptoed to the door, slowly and carefully opening it and backing out. I shut it as quietly as I could, and turned around to see Dean walking towards me, looking down at his phone, only a few feet off.
“Morning,” I greeted him.
His steps faltered slightly as he looked up. “Morning.”
His expression changed from tiredness to confusion in an instant. He furrowed his brow, looking at me, then to the door I had just stepped out from.
“I’m making pancakes. If you want some, they’ll be ready in twenty.”
I smiled, nodding a thank you before he squeezed past me towards the kitchen.
‘He’s not mad at me!’ I thought to myself.
I went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower. I wrapped a towel around myself, and headed towards my room to get dressed. We had a day in, so I decided on a fresh pair of pajama shorts and another t-shirt. The smell of pancakes drifted through the bunker, and as soon as I stepped out of my door that smell carried me all the way to the kitchen. I stopped in the entrance, watching Dean for a moment. He stood at the stovetop, watching and flipping the pancakes as necessary. I watched the way his arms and shoulders moved until his simple gray tee, and how delicately his hands held the spatula. Then he turned and noticed me.
“Hey,” he said, taking the plate-full to the counter.
He was getting a little scruffy, having not yet shaved since a couple mornings ago. He looked tired, but peaceful. He looked handsome. I chewed my bottom lip, finally stepping into the small room.
“Hey. That smells amazing.”
I walked near him as he grabbed two plates, throwing a few pancakes on each. He handed me one, and we both went to work preparing them with with butter and syrup. I was about to take mine to the table, when his hand shot in front of mine.
“I��ll take these if you want to grab the coffee pot.”
He looked down at me, the sides of his lips just barely tilting up into a smile, and I felt a familiar flutter in my heart.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, then turned quickly to grab the coffee and two mugs, trying to push down that feeling as far as it could go.
I shuffled closer to him as he sat at one side of the table. I placed the mugs in front of the plates, filling each of them and setting the pot at the end of the table. I sat across from Dean, digging in immediately.
“Okay, wow.” I shoved another forkful in my mouth. “These… These are genuinely amazing. You shook cook more often.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I got a few tricks up my sleeve. What about you, though? Anytime you bake anything I lose my mind.”
“Guess I just have that effect on people,” I shrugged laughing.
“Yeah, you’re not kidding.” He smirked and glanced up, locking eyes with me for a moment that felt like forever. I looked away first.
“Um— about… About yesterday, Dean, I—”
He cut me off, throwing a hand up. “Just— Let’s just drop it. Okay?”
I nodded, looking down. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
He took in a deep breath before things went silent for a while. We both were nearly finished when Sam came in the room, as much a morning person as ever.
“Morning, guys!” He smiled.
I couldn’t help but let out half a laugh at his cheerfulness. “You are way too excited in the mornings.”
He smiled my way.
Dean got up abruptly. “I’m gonna go work on Baby.”
As soon as he was out of the room, Sam raised an eyebrow at me. “He always goes out there when he’s upset. Did something happen? You two looked fine when I came in.”
I shook my head. “I tried talking to him about yesterday. Guess that was a mistake.”
Sam’s lips tightened. “Yikes, I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine. At least he let me eat his pancakes.” I smiled.
Sam laughed, “Yeah, guess that’s a start.”
We went about our day as usual; Sam worked out and looked up cases, Cas helped with case searches, Dean spent most of his day in the garage, and I decided on a movie marathon. Before long, it was later than I realized and I heard a knock on the door.
“Come in!”
Sam poked his head around the door. “What’s up? You’ve been in your room all day.”
“Oh, no worries. Just a movie marathon. Harry Potter, wanna join?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and fell belly-down on the bed next to me. We watched about half of the 6th movie before we stopped watching altogether. We talked and laughed all night long until we were passed out together. This time, I woke up again to Sam’s gentle snoring, but we were much closer. His right arm was once again under my head, but his left was wrapped tightly around me, and his chest pressed into my back. Admittedly, it was a bit strange, but on a cold morning, not unwelcome. I gently rubbed his forearm, trying to wake him.
“Sammy, get up. You’re trapping me here, pal.”
He groaned sleepily, hugging me just a little tighter before he opened his eyes and realized what he was doing. “Oh crap, I’m sorry.”
I laughed, “Dont worry about it. You were keeping me warm.”
He hummed, “Well in that case, you wanna go back to sleep for a little bit?”
“Fine. Five more minutes and then we get up.”
I giggled as he pulled me back in, nearly squeezing the life out of me for a moment.
“You know, as weird as this is, it feels nice to have a cuddle-buddy,” Sam breathed out.
“Hey, at least it’s nothing too scandalous,” I chuckled, eyes closed.
Then I heard a knock at the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Castiel’s voice rang through the closed door.
“What do ya need?” I answered back. Then I heard the door open, and looked up.
He started stepping in, but stopped dead in his tracks. “I, uh— Oh. Pardon me, I seem to be interrupting.”
“Cas—” I tried getting his attention but he’d already showed himself out the door. “Crap.”
Sam chuckled, I felt it in his chest. “That’s gonna be a fun one to explain.”
I sighed. “Hopefully he doesn’t go running his mouth so it’s an easy one to explain.”
I laid with him for a few minutes longer before my bladder called for release. “Sam, we gotta get up, man. I gotta pee.”
He groaned. “I don’t want to.”
“Whoa, what happened to happy-go-lucky, I-love-being-up-in-the-mornings Sam?” I half laughed.
“He’s tired,” he grunted out, rolling over.
I flipped to my back as he stole his arm from beneath my head, and sat up. I looked over to see him struggling to get up himself, but my urgency for the bathroom left no time for me to help him up. I bolted out the door to the bathroom and relieved myself, thinking of how to explain to Cas that what he saw was not at all what he thought it was. I ended up back in my room, finding Sam staring into space still sitting on the edge of my bed.
“You alright, Sammy?” I suppressed a smile.
His head shot up. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was zoning out.”
I nodded, throwing a thumb over my shoulder. “You wanna go grab breakfast?”
“That sounds great.”
We left the room together, chatting on our way to the kitchen. Then, I nearly lost balance running into Cas.
“Oh, hey! We wanted to talk to you,” Sam said, tapping Cas’s arm with the back of his hand
He put his hands up, defensively. “No worries. I understand.”
I dragged my hand on the side of my face. “No, but you don’t. I know you caught us looking a little precarious, but trust me, we just fell asleep together. We were watching Harry Potter and passed out.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, okay. I was sure you two were sleeping together.”
I laughed, “Yeah, no. Not by a long shot, man.”
“Alright, well that definitely clears things up for me. I will see you later.”
“Seeya, don’t get into any trouble.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about me,” he smiled, walking past.
Sam and I entered the kitchen soon after, finding Dean alone with a cup of coffee and a computer.
“Morning, sunshine.” Sam joked.
I walked over to him, leaning an arm on the table next to him, peering at the screen. “Found a case?”
He nodded silently, not looking up.
“Well?” Sam pressed, peeling a banana. “Care to enlighten us?”
Deans jaw ticked for a moment before he spoke gruffly, “Looks like a ghost. Strange, but similar, deaths happening at an old motel. So far three of ‘em.”
I took the seat next to him. “Where at?”
He pointed at the screen. “Plainfield, Wisconsin.”
I perked up, grabbing his arm for a moment. “Hey, that’s where Ed Gein committed all his murders!”
“Dude, yeah!” Sam joined in. “That guy was messed up.”
Dean huffed. “Well aren’t you two just perfect for each other. Be ready in half an hour.”
He got up, slamming the laptop shut and stalking out of the room.
I looked to Sam, confused. “What the hell is his problem?”
He shook his head, “No clue.”
I shook my head, slightly irritated. “Guess we gotta go get ready now.”
I walked out of the kitchen, going in the direction of my room. I stepped inside, pulling a duffel bad from my closet and throwing in at least enough clothes for a week, not knowing how long we’d be gone. After I was packed, I decided on a quick shower. I put my hair up into a topknot so I wouldn’t have to wash and dry it, and took the fastest shower I could. I finished getting ready a few minutes early, and grabbed all my things. I was going to throw it all in the car and wait for the boys, until my irritation got the best of me. I walked to Dean’s room, knocking on the door.
He answered harshly, “What.”
“It’s me, can I come in.”
“I guess.”
I flung the door open to find Dean standing there in the midst of getting dresssed. He was at his closet, so far only having his jeans and a tight-fit tee on, and I would be lying if I didn’t say that I couldn’t catch my breath for a moment. How in the world could he look so good rocking the simplest of things?
He pulled a flannel of a hanger, the deep red one that I liked. “What do you need?”
“I want to know what’s wrong.”
He turned to face me, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Nothing. Is that all?”
I crossed my arms. “You may do a lot of lying for the job, but you’re kind of the worst at it sometimes.”
He shot me a glance, unenthused. “Nothing is wrong. Let’s move on. We got stuff to do.”
“Dean.”
“(Y/N),” he shot back, staring for a second before going about his business.
I clenched my jaw. “I’m gonna find out sooner or later.”
He huffed out, almost a laugh, as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah. Sure.”
I turned on my heel, leaving the room, everything in me fighting against my urge to slam the door behind me. He really knew how to push my buttons, more than anyone else sometimes. The boys were finally ready and came out into the garage where I was waiting. I pushed myself off the side of the impala, getting in the car. Dean flew out of the garage, heading straight for the highway. Most of the car ride was silent, only the faint sounds of Dean’s music over the speakers. Then he had to open his mouth.
“So, you two are sleeping together now, huh?”
I almost choked, head whipping to the side to look at Sam. He did the same, glancing at me, confusion set in his face.
“What? Dean, no, why—”
“You two seemed to be getting pretty cozy the past couple nights,” he answered back, staring straight at the road.
I scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“I saw you coming out of his room yesterday morning, (Y/N), don’t act dumb. And Cas told me he walked in on you all over each other this morning.”
“That was not what was happening. We saw him this morning and explained it all. We just fell asleep watching a movie together.”
“And the night before?”
Sam spoke up, “(Y/N) had a nightmare, Dean. She couldn’t be alone.”
“What, so you slept together?” His hands held tightly to the steering wheel.
“Yes, and that’s all we did. Sleep. Nothing more, we don’t feel like that about each other.”
He bitterly laughed. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“Dean, seriously.”
“Fine. We’ll drop it.”
I huffed out a breath. “Thank you.”
The rest of the ride was quiet. We only made one or two stops for gas and bathroom breaks. It took us about 10 hours before we arrived in Plainfield and searched for a place to stay the night. We finally found a little motel just outside of town, and booked a room. Luckily, a pull-out couch was included so I wouldn’t have to give Dean more ideas about Sam and I, and I wouldn’t have to spend the night beside someone who was pissed at me for no reason. I walked in the room to find it perfectly adequate. and I threw my bag down on the floor, beginning to open up the pull-out.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked as he came inside. “I can take that, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not making you take the couch, Sam.”
“It pulls out into a bed at least. And you aren’t making me if I’m offering. Now, move your crap.”
He nodded at my duffel.
I sighed as dramatically as I could, “Fine.”
“So dramatic.” He chuckled.
“Yeah, I gotta be sometimes. Thank you, though.”
I pulled my bag away, walking to the far bed as throwing it down. I began unzipping it when I heard the thud of Dean’s duffel hitting the second bed behind me. I turned.
“What are we doing first?”
He glanced up at me. “Thought we’d check out the murder scene early tomorrow.”
“Alright. All three of us need to get dressed up?”
“Whoever wants to go.” He shrugged.
“I think I’ll hang back and do some more research on the town and possible leads, if that’s okay with you guys,” Sam said, setting his laptop on the small table in the room.
“Okay,” Dean answered, pulling out his ‘FBI’ suit to hang.
We went to bed, all exhausted from the trip. I woke up at 7 the next morning to Dean’s alarm blaring. We all ate a quick breakfast before getting ready to leave. I grabbed my suit, heading to the bathroom to change, and kicking myself for not being the one to stay at the motel. I didn’t know how I’d handle being alone with Dean, especially when he was in a mood. I changed quickly, making sure I looked professional enough to fool whoever we’d have to get past. I stepped out to see that Dean had already left the room.
I looked to Sam who had already got his computer up and running. “Where’d he go?”
“Waiting by the car outside,” he said, not looking up.
“Thanks.”
I walked across the room, stepping outside. Dean stood leaning against ththe impala, his back to me as I made my way over.
He heard my footsteps and turned. “Took you long enough.”
I stopped for a moment. Wow, he looks amazing right now.
“Gonna get in?” He asked.
“Oh. Yeah.”
I shook my head, opening the passenger door and sliding inside. He started up the car, and took off out of the parking lot.
“So,” he started, “you’re not sleeping together?”
“Dean. Seriously?”
He shrugged. “Can’t blame me for thinking so, you two spend a lot of time together.”
I looked over at him. “Yeah, that’s kind of what friends do.”
“We don’t do that.” He shot me a quick glance, raising an eyebrow.
“Give me a time and place and we will, then.”
He tried to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. “Yeah, sure.”
“What? Don’t want rumors spreading about me and you?”
“Sweetheart, you don’t want those rumors.”
“Who said that?” I furrowed my brows, the corner of my mouth twitching upwards.
He smiled at me. Butterflies, again.
We drove a few more minutes into town before we reached our destination. I peered at the building through the windshield as we drove up. It was creepy. Caution tape everywhere, the old run-down motel, the cloudy skies; it looked straight out of a horror movie. Dean parked the car, and we got out, walking to the police officer that was waiting on his team inside. We flashed him our badges and he let us past.
“I’m surprised no murders happened here before this,” Dean said quietly, leaning in.
I laughed. “Yeah, not the nicest of places for sure.”
He hummed in agreement. “Let’s see if we got any Casper activity.”
He took out his EMF detector, walking around the room, being careful not to step in any of the dried blood. He took a lap; no readings.
“Huh. Nothing here.”
I glanced around. “What the hell would’ve done all of this though?”
“Dunno. Judging by how all of the blood left their bodies and ended up friggen everywhere else, I could’ve sworn it would be one of those suckers.”
I nodded. “Wanna try to hospital?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
We spent the day gathering as many clues and evidence as we could, to no avail. By nightfall, we decided to call it a day and head back to our room. We got inside to find Sam taking a nap.
Dean whispered to me, “I’m gonna take a shower.”
I nodded. He went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I decided to get dressed in something more comfortable and landed on a pair of sweats and a plain t-shirt. Can’t get more laid back than that.
I sat on my bed for a moment before I heard Sam moving around. I looked his way as he opened his eyes.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” I said.
He smiled. “Hey. You guys find anything useful?”
“Figure it’s probably not a ghost. Other than that, nope.”
“Mm.” He sat up, stretching before he stood. He walked over to me, taking a seat by my side and swinging an arm over my shoulders. “I didn’t find anything either. Not even connections between the people who died.”
“So weird.”
He agreed, falling back on the bed and taking me down with him. “Yeah. I’m sure something will turn up, though. It has to.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You wanna go out tonight?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m beat. I didn’t get my nap today.” I laughed.
He snorted, squeezing my shoulder. “You’re no fun.”
Then we heard the door open, Dean stepped out.
“What about you? You wanna go out tonight?” Sam asked him.
“I’m good,” he said without so much as a glance our way.
Sam sat up. “Man, both of you? Since when am I the one to go out alone?”
I chuckled, sitting up next to him. “Since now, apparently. Go, though! Have fun enough for all of us.” I nudged his shoulder.
He shrugged getting up to get ready. Then I heard the tv switch on, and looked over to Dean. There he sat, on his bed, flipping through channels.
“What are you gonna watch?” I asked.
He stared silently at the tv and shrugged. Here we go again.
I heaved out a heavy sigh, pulling out my phone to fiddle on. Sam came out of the bathroom with a new shirt on, and what smelled like a little bit of cologne. I looked up from my device as he pulled his shoes on.
“Who are you trying to impress, sir?”
He smirked. “We’ll have to find out. I’ll see you guys later.”
He left the room, leaving me and Dean to ourselves. I looked over at him again as he settled on an old comedy. He noticed.
“What?” He asked, eyes still unmoving from the movie.
“Your attitude is what.”
“I don’t have an attitude.”
I scoffed. “Oh, sure. We were fine working the case today, and now you’re acting like I stole all of your leftovers or something.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Funny how you keep saying that, and then end up in the same crappy mood again. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”
“I can’t.” He grew impatient.
“Yes, you can.”
He sat up, finally looking at me. “No. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because, I just can’t. It’s stupid, you wouldn’t understand it.”
He stared at me.
“Maybe I would if you’d just talk to me!” My voice raised slightly.
“Why do you even care?” His voice raised to match mine.
“Why do you think? I care about you, and I hate it when you’re mad at me.”
He closed his eyes. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then what is the problem?” I leaned forward, searching his face for an answer.
He sighed, voice lowering. “Can we— maybe we can talk about it tomorrow. Just— not tonight, please.”
I shrunk back. “Fine. Promise me.”
He tilted his head with a blank stare.
“I’m serious, Dean. Promise me.”
He let out a heavy breath. “Okay. I promise. You’re a pain, you know that?”
I shrugged. “You’ll get over it.”
He stared for a moment, my heart fluttering until he looked away again. He laid down, turning off the tv. I laid back too, turning off the lights.
“Goodnight,” he said, turning over.
“Goodnight.”
I woke up to sunlight hitting my face through the window. I glanced towards the couch; no Sam. Then my eyes went to Dean. He was still sleeping. I watched him for a moment; he looked so at peace. The lines in his face were smoothed out, no worries were apparent on him. His eyelids began to move, but I couldn’t pull my gaze from his face. He looked handsome in the early morning hours, his eyelashes delicately fluttering until his eyes were opened. He noticed me and smiled.
“Way to be creepy, watching me sleep.”
His voice was deep and soft and full of sleep.
I smiled back, “You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t help it.”
“I bet you say that to all the guys.”
I laughed. “Nah, only the special ones.”
He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I don’t want to beat up monsters today.”
“If we can’t find out what’s killing people, you might not have to.”
“That isn’t a good option either.”
“I know.” I yawned, stretching out. “Guess Sammy found a girl.”
Dean looked over his shoulder at the empty space. “Oh.”
“You still believe we’re together now?” I raised my eyebrows.
He looked back towards me. “I might, might, have been wrong there.”
“Told ya.”
He smirked, shaking his head. “We better get the day going.”
I agreed. We fully woke up and grabbed some breakfast from a cafe down the street. We went back to the motel to find Sam in the shower, and our day went on as normal from that point on, until we found the clues we needed to lead us to the killer.
“A witch? Oh, come on, I’m so sick of them,” I complained.
Sam shrugged. “Hey, we found hex bags in each of the rooms. Most likely the owner of the motel, or someone who works there.”
“Maybe a maid? It’s always the butler, so maybe it’s always the maid too,” Dean suggested with a sly smirk.
“That, as lame as it is, actually could be a really great place to start,” I responded. “Let’s pack up and find out who’s been cleaning the place up.”
We went and questioned the owner to find out which employees had been working when the murders took place, and landed on only one housekeeper: a man named Ken. We got his address and decided to do a little questioning. We arrived to his house, and Sam knocked loudly.
The door creaked open. “Hello?”
“Hello, we’re with the FBI, we have some questions to ask you,” Sam responded, flashing his badge.
The man behind the door, opened it a little wider. He grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you are.”
He looked to me.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Dean stepped halfway in front of me before I could say anything. “You might want to watch yourself, you’re suspect for the murders that took place the night you were working at the motel.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Oh? Why don’t you come inside, then.”
He stepped just inside and he shut the door behind us.
“Anyways,” he began, “I’ve always wanted to meet the Winchester’s.”
Before we knew what was happening, our bodies flew up against the wall and landed on the ground harshly. We all attempted to scramble up, but as I attempted to stand, I felt a hand wrap around my neck. Ken pulled me backwards into him.
“Let her go,” Dean boomed.
Ken chuckled. “See, that’s where you’re making your mistake. Your little protective act only lets me know that your little girlfriend, here, is valuable to you. So, you might not like it if I just—”
He dropped me, and I felt my legs give out. It felt like all the air had been pulled from my lungs— No, it felt like I didn’t have lungs. I couldn’t breathe.
“You son of a—”
Thud!
Dean was slammed against the wall again. I watched from the ground where I lay as Sam attempted to go at him, but then it all went black.
I woke with a gasp, my body flying upwards in shock. I breathed heavily, finally catching my breath for the first time in what felt like eternity.
“Hey, hey, hey, calm down, you’re okay.”
I heard a voice, foggy. I turned my head quickly, finding Dean right next to me. Wait, no, he was holding me. We were someplace else, maybe in the house still? I heard distant voices. I felt tired.
“I… think I… need a nap,” I said, barely hearing myself speak.
“Whoa, no, no, don’t fall asleep, okay? Just— Here, just look at me. Look here, stay awake,” he spoke to me as I tried to listen.
My eyes still felt heavy.
“But— I’m tired. Just a… Just a nap.”
“No, (Y/N), don’t fall asleep yet, okay? We gotta make sure you’re alright.”
“What… Where are we?”
“In the house of a very bad witch.” I heard a woman’s voice. I looked up to see red hair. “I mean, come on now, I was able to fix you right up quite easily.”
“Yeah, thank you, by the way,” Sam said to Rowena, a tight smile accompanied his words. My vision began clearing.
“What are you doing here? What happened?” I cleared my throat, trying to sit up to find Dean’s chest hard against my back. I noticed his arms around me, too. I ran my fingers over one of his forearms, happy to be there. Then I realized there were two other staring at me, trying to communicate. I stopped and tried to listen.
“—and then, well, you’re lucky Sam had enough sense to call me when he realized what you’d be dealing with, otherwise, my dear, you’d be dead. Hmm.”
“Oh. How’d we get away, though?”
“It was really all me, of course.” She smiled, pleased with herself. “You’d have really been in trouble otherwise, too, with Dean letting his jealously get the best of him and punching someone in the face.”
“Yeah, well, the douche bag deserved it.” I felt him speak, the bass in his voice vibrating in his chest. “He was getting too handsy with her.”
“I would have gotten him away quicker if you hadn’t made him even more angry, Mr. Winchester,” Rowena sassed. “Anyways, I’ve got things to do more important than speaking with you two giants and the wee fuzzy-brained girl. Toodleloo.”
She picked up her dress and walked out of the house. I liked her.
“I like her,” I giggled.
I started feeling funny. Almost drunk, maybe more giddy.
“Can’t say I feel exactly the same,” Dean said.
“Regardless, she did save us there,” Sam responded.
I laughed, “Yeah, she’s fun.”
“I would’ve gotten him,” Dean continued his conversation with Sam.
“Dean, we all would’ve been in trouble if she wasn’t here. Even you’ve gotta admit to that.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He reached into his pocket for the keys, throwing them at Sam. “Here, go start the car.”
“Alright, hurry it up,” Sam said as he left.
I leaned my head up to look at Dean. “So, you were jealous, huh?”
“I am not. I just didn’t want his grimy hands on you, now come on, let’s get you back to the hotel.”
I felt movement as he began to move from behind me. I tried to stand up, but before I could, I felt his arms swing underneath me. He picked me up, and carried me out the door. I held onto his neck, enjoyed time in close proximity to him and wishing I could just tell him how I felt about him. If I could even figure it out for myself. He sat me in the backseat, helping me buckle in before we took off. Soon enough, we were back at the motel and Sam decided to go on a dinner-run. Dean and I entered the room alone, he helped me to walk until I could sit down.
“Here, just sit here,” he said, helping me to rest on the edge of his bed. He moved around me, squatting down between my legs and looking up at me. “Are you okay?”
I tilted my head, looking at him looking at me. “Yeah.”
He let out half a laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I shrugged, a contented smile on my face. “You’re cute.”
“(Y/N)—”
“I figured out why you’ve been so grumpy,” I cut him off, unable to stop from speaking.
He put his hands on the bed on either side of my legs. “Why’s that?”
“I think you didn’t like me and Sam.”
“I already told you I wasn’t mad at—”
“No, no, no. You didn’t like us together. You were being jealous. Like with the weird witch man. Rowena said so, and she’s smart.” I giggled.
He raised an eyebrow, gulping. “Uh, let me get you some water. Maybe that’ll help.”
“I’m right.”
“Now’s not the time to talk about this stuff, (Y/N), let’s just—”
“Uh uh. You said we’d talk about it today.”
“We can, later.”
He tried getting up, but I put my hands on his shoulders.
“But I like you, I wanna talk now.”
“This is just the spell wearing off, if you just—”
I sighed harshly. “No it’s not, stop it. I like you a lot. You’re so cute and you give me butterflies and make me nervous and make me smile a lot and all I can think about is you all the time.”
“(Y/N)…” he started, eyebrows knit together.
“I’m not saying it because of the spell, okay?” I started rambling. “I mean, I always feel that way, but I didn’t want to say anything. You know, I was kind of scared. Now, it kinda seems like maybe you feel the same way, and I just want to know, otherwise this is gonna be really awkward when I’m not feeling all weird and giddy and I jus—”
Before I knew what was happening I felt his lips on mine. I felt shocked. I took a moment to gather my wits, but I seemed to take a moment too long. He pulled away.
“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to force that on you, I thought you wanted…” He trailed off, a hand going to rub at his face. I reached out, pulling it away from his face. He looked up at me, apprehensive.
“Trust me, I wanted it,” I confirmed before leaning back in as quickly as I could.
His hands moved up to settle at my waist as he smiled into the kiss. I held his jaw in my hands, pulling him in as closely as I could. I never wanted that kiss to end, but it had to soon, as we needed air. Our foreheads rested against each other.
“I have wanted to do that for so long,” I whispered.
He laughed. “I’m just happy to know that Sam wasn’t the one doing it. Because you were so right, I was definitely jealous.”
“Knew it.” I giggled.
He hummed, pulling away from me. We looked at one another for a minute, taking it all in. I let my hand reach back up to his face, my thumb brushing against his cheek, looking at all the freckles that dusted his face.
I sighed, happy. “You wanna go again?”
He chuckled, a smile on his face. “Oh, for sure.”
I slapped the bed next to me, and he scrambled up, facing me. His arms immediately snaked around my middle, pulling me in tight. I held on to his neck, gazing up at him.
“You good?” He asked, a smile stuck on his face.
“More than.” I nodded, grinning.
He pressed his lips to mine, wasting no time. We stayed like that for several minutes, enjoying our time together and hoping it would never end. Until the door swung open.
“Whoa, walked in at the wrong time,” Sam exclaimed, closing the door as quickly as he shut it.
Dean and I looked at each other. He shrugged, “Whoops.”
I laughed, and he pulled me back in.
(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)
FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE
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batpunkks · 1 year
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sitting on charlie's face <3
that's literally it. that's the post. that's what this whole thing is about. I think it goes without saying, minors do not interact.
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his bottom lip flipped between his teeth in anticipation. he had been begging all day for it. as soon as he had a dream about it, he was chomping at the bit to reenact it with you. you straddled his hips, nothing to separate your sopping cunt and the skin of his torso.
charlie's eyes flicked up and down your nude body, his hands going to your thighs and giving them a firm squeeze, making you smirk.
"gotta tell me what you want, or else i can't help you," you mused, leaning down just above his face.
he growled in agitation as you were still drawing this out when all he wanted were his lips wrapped around your pussy, licking and sucking until you were soft and pliant above him.
"charlie," you taunted, your lips dropping to his neck, "tell me you want me to sit on your face, baby."
he scoffed like an angry child before cutting his losses, spitting out through almost gritted teeth, "please. please sit on my face."
you gifted him a mischievous smile before wiggling your way up his body, his hands on your hips all the way up, fingers flexing against the soft flesh of your thighs.
before you could even lower yourself down, he was extending his neck and pushing you into him by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you down into his mouth.
you gasped as you felt his tongue swirl and dive across your folds in needy desperation. you knew that ever since the dream he had plagued him, he wanted nothing more than to get as pussy drunk as possible.
and with you above him, singing for him while he gets to feast on your pussy, he is not afraid to let himself go.
he was absolutely zeroed in on your reactions, the way your muscles would tense, if you were specifically sensitive in a spot, he would suck you would jump, and to keep your volume regulated, you would slip your bottom lip between your teeth.
knowing charlie, he was going to remember and analyze everything you gave him tonight.
your hips began to move without your brain registering, grinding down on his tongue as you babbled above him for more. and after all, charlie had wanted to try it since he started.
he held you still with a growl, the look in his eyes giving you a stare that said "don't. move."
charlie wrapped his lips around your clit and began to suck, and you braced yourself against the headboard as pleasure washed over your body. you swore every cell in your body was bouncing off the others at a million miles a minute. you were buzzing.
"charlie, oh my god, fuck!" you whimpered out, brain lost for words as you focused on the boy below you.
he was humming into your sopping cunt with a low timbre, which made your core clench. he was making you feel like a fucking porn star with how much he had you moaning out for him. he smiled to himself as he remembered: he hasn't even put his cock in you yet.
charlie's nose was pushed up against your pubic area, the soft flesh moving in unison with the movements of his mouth. when you dared to look down, his pulverizing blue eyes locked onto yours. the stare was silent but it carried so much weight. a soundless communication that he was there for you. and that he wanted you to cum.
"fuck!" you cry out, his hair held tight in your hand, your other making nail marks on the headboard.
"cum," he begged, his pleading muffled in the weight of your thighs.
electricity seemed to be shooting its way out of your body, your hand slapping over your mouth as you let out silenced wails of pleasure, cursing as you were possessed by your high.
charlie watched you in awe, slowing his tongue to make soft, gentle licks right on your clit to help you come down from your high. you were shaking above him, and that made him glow with pride.
you sloppily dismounted his face as he gave it one last parting kiss. flopping down on the sheets, you felt him lean over you, a curious expression on his face.
"that good?" he asks.
"that good."
your greedy hands were already playing around his v-line, fingertips grazing the hem of his boxers. your post-orgasm neediness made him buzz with arousal.
"what do you think you're doing?" he questions playfully, narrowing his eyes.
"paying you back."
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heyy congrats on 350+ followers (assuming im not too late? haha) i ADORE your hcss omll they make me giggle and kick my feet at 3:00 AM (they also help me sleep at night lol). if its not too much to ask could you do hcs abt Jason Grace x gf!reader in an argument + making up?
✮⋆˙ we do not go to bed angry in this house; jason grace argument blurb
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content: jason x fem! reader argument blurb warning: fighting but resolved with fluff author's note: see im not the only one who wants jason angst but this one ends happy, trust!! i love love the aesthetics for this one but the fight is weak but the child of divorce in me would rather die than write a different kind of fight, ya know???
"ha! that's a joke, right? please, you're not that stupid, jason," you hissed at the boy, slamming the door shut behind you as you guys walked into your shared apartment. you guys had thought it would be fun to go out with friends, hang out and play some pool. all good, right? yeah, it was fine, until this girl just walked up to jason, dragging him away and chatting him up for the whole night. and despite you trying to free him from her grasp, he stayed, even shooing you away at certain points. so, yeah, you were a tad bit mad. okay, you were pissed.
"y/n, i don't understand what the big deal is! we were just talking and you could see me the whole night!" jason insisted, tugging his jacket off and throwing it onto the couch with a sigh. you'd been having the same fight the whole ride home and he was just done talking about it.
"the big deal is that you allowed her to occupy your space! hell, you even wanted her around. jason, do you really not see how that looks to me?" you asked, your chest nearly heaving as you begged him to understand. jason just turned his back, his hands gripping the kitchen counter.
"i wouldn't do that," he hissed out and you squeezed your eyes shut, holding in a sigh. you knew cheating was a sore spot for him, what with his dad and all.
"that's not-"
"it is, though. why else would you care? you know i wouldn't do that, of all things."
"jason, just listen-"
"y/n, i can't when you-"
"jason, that's not fair-"
"we're done for tonight. im sleeping on the couch," jason boomed, slapping a hand against the counter. silence fell over the apartment for the first time since you entered. jason turned to look at you but you put your back to him, a clear sign that you were on the verge of crying.
"i'm sorry i raised my voice," he whispered, taking a hesitant step towards you but you just moved further away.
"go get your clothes so i can go to bed, grace," you muttered, refusing to look at him. you heard a small sigh leave jason's nose before he walked into your shared bedroom - except for, tonight, i'd be your room.
jason took up post on the couch but everything felt wrong. no matter what way he twisted and turned and fluffed his pillow and adjusted his blanket, sleep continued to allude him. he flopped onto his back and stared up at the roof, wishing he'd just heard you out. just let you explain it all and so he could understand and fix all of this. becuase he was quickly realizing the reason he was struggling to sleep was because he missed you. even the things he'd typically complain about; your breathing in his ear, the confusion of your legs tangled up with his, the way you were always freezing in bed. and he was missing it.
and then he heard the bedroom door creak open, causing him to tilt his head to see better. you, utterly exhausted, slumped out of the bedroom dragging a blanket behind you. without exchanging a single word, jason opened his arms wide and you plopped down straight into them. he held onto you tight, ensuring you wouldn't fall during the night. you snuggled into the crook of his neck, hesitantly pressing a sleepy kiss there.
"couldn't sleep," you whispered against his skin before taking a small pause, "...without you."
"same," jason murmured back, his eyes turning droopy now that he had you in his arms, "...im sorry, really. i just...i wasn't thinking about how it looked to you. you know you're the only girl ill ever have eyes for, right?"
"i do, which is why i don't understand why i get so mad. and it's not because im scared you'll...ya know. just the thought of you maybe leaving makes me sick, like maybe you'll find someone better or-"
"no. never."
"my sweet boy," you whispered and jason could feel the twitch of your lips against his neck, "let's sleep, yeah?"
"finally can with you here."
226 notes · View notes
the-traveling-poet · 4 months
Note
hi Lynn!! I’ve been binge reading your profile and let me tell you, I love your reading. May I request some Levi x reader fluff where they're married n have a 3 y/o daughter named kutchel. Levi's wife is 8 months along with their 2nd kid. They're all excited n kutchel just wants to play. Kutchel tries to drag reader along to play but reader is very exhausted n cant keep up w kutchel but still tries to hide her exhaustion n make her happy. Levi comes back from the tea shop or something after work, and it’s worried his wife will overexert herself n tries to make both his girls happy? Thank youu ❤️ (Post-war, canon Au)
Family
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It seems three years was all the time it took for you and your husband to fully embrace your new lives together.
After the war, you were finally able to just focus on the two of you rather than possible impending dooms around every corner. And you couldn’t have been more grateful for the break. Engagement, marriage, conception and childbirth were all things you never imagined you’d have the luxury to experience with Levi, but after finding out you were pregnant with your second child, the reality of it all became oh so sweeter.
But eight months into the second journey, you learn that sometimes you do still need some help from your lover. And Levi is happy to provide.
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Pairing: Husband/Father!Levi x Wife/Mother!Reader
Warnings: Post-war, pregnancy, parenting stress
taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe
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A/N: Absolutely anon! I hope I did this justice for ya, I don’t have kids of my own so I hope I got this right! Sorry for the wait, work got in the way.
As always if anything written doesn’t fit your preferences, I’ll happily rewrite!
Enjoy~
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“Mama!”
The drawn out cry made you sigh. Not in annoyance. Never, in annoyance. Rather, it was a sigh of your ever growing fatigue. Staggering to your feet, you stood from the couch with a labored breath and turned to face your daughter with a careful smile.
“Yes, Kuchel?” You asked softly. No matter how tired you became, nor how round your belly grew, you’d always have the energy to tend to your daughter’s ever growing list of demands.
Kuchel raced about the living room, giggling happily as she babbled on about something or another that had prompted her to gain your attention. You couldn’t help but wearily smile; just where did she get all this energy from? And where could you find some?
With a hand in your belly to support the weight, you grunted as you crouched down to your knees to catch your daughter as she raced closer to you than the child suspected she had. With a shrill cry that stung your ears, she flopped around haphazardly in your arms once you nabbed her.
“Wanna go see papa!” Kuchel cried out in a mixture of laughter and whining. Heaving a sigh, you prepared yourself to remind her, once again, that her father away still away at work.
“Honey, daddy’s still at the tea shop. He should be back in only an hour!” You cheered her on, hoping your joyous tone would distract her from the fact her perception of time was all but nonexistent.
“An hour?!” she pouted, shooting you a look from under her unruly black curls. Silver eyes pouted up at you from your lap, making you smile at the resemblance that mirrored her father’s.
“I know baby, I know. We just have to be patient, yeah? When daddy gets home, you can greet him at the door. But no jumping, you hear? We can’t have you straining daddy’s leg again.” You reminded her, sternly but still lovingly.
Kuchel pouted in your lap, then hastily stood.
“But…If I can’t climb daddy, why he so tall?”
Her question left you speechless. Oh, the odd question from a child who could only string together simple sentences.
“You can climb daddy when he’s sat down. Otherwise, you’ll tip over his cane and strain his knee. You don’t want daddy to hurt, do you?”
Immediately Kuchel’s face sobered in expression, her eyes wide and plump lips parted.
“No! Not hurt daddy,” she scoffed, so much like the way her father did.
I guess more than physical traits are genetic, you thought with a sigh. Struggling over your very much pregnant belly, you managed to stand yourself back up. Watching your energetic three year old bounce excitedly across the room, and glancing down at your swollen abdomen, you really couldn’t find any room to complain.
“I miss daddy too,” you interrupted her ranting, “But he’ll be home soon enough. Now,”
Walking over to your kitchen, you pulled a knife out of your cutlery draw and picked an apple from a woven basket sat atop the counter.
Re-locking the drawer, (you can’t trust young children to not open any door or cabinet they can reach) you picked up a plate and began to cut.
“How about you enjoy a nice snack before dinner while you wait for daddy, and I’ll take a rest on the couch with you?”
“But you just got off the couch, and it’s daytime!” Kuchel pouted, the pitter patter of her bare feet sounding off the tiled floor as she waddled her way into the kitchen to watch.
“I know honey, I know.” Sighing, your subconsciously placed a hand over your belly, feeling the baby within gently press against your touch.
“Growing a baby makes mommy tired. It takes a lot of energy, even if I’m not moving.”
Kuchel stared on in silence, her bright eyes staring at your enlarged belly deep in thought. After a moment, she shrugged.
“That’s weird. Why did you grow one of it makes you sleepy?”
“Well, both your father and I wanted another baby. You’ll be a big sister, yknow that?” You hummed over your shoulder as you finished peeling the apple and handing her the plate.
“I guess so,” Kuchen mumbled as she bit into an apple slice. Seeing she was satisfied, you slowly made your way over to the couch to lie back down. After a moment, you felt your daughter struggle to climb up onto the furniture to join you. With a sleepy smile, you ruffled her hair and closed your eyes.
“Wanna go outside and play pretend?” Kuchel suddenly asked, disrupting the peaceful silence around you.
Heaving a sigh, you gave her a tired smile over your shoulder.
Please, Levi. Get home soon…
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A single click of the lock on his front door made any tension leave Levi’s shoulders. Finally, he was home.
Since he was a young teenager, he’d always dreamed of the day he could open up his own shop and run a peaceful business. And sure, he very much enjoyed his craft for brewing and steeping various drinks for anyone who stepped foot through door of his small shop.
But at the end of the day, there was nothing he enjoyed more than returning home to his small family. Listening to his daughter’s excited squeals as she tried to climb him like a tree in the threshold, seeing his wife’s radiant, and relieved, smile ever present on her face when they reunited in the safety of their home.
Though he dreaded leaving them for this sole reason, it made coming home every day so much more sweeter.
Heaving a sigh, Levi twisted the door knob open and stepped into their home.
The silence that met him immediately concerned him. Looking around, he saw no trace of his child or lover. Tensing up, he looked for any sign of their whereabouts.
There’s no way in hell Y/N convinced Kuchel to nap. That kid doesn’t sleep.
Shuffling his way further inside, he leaned on his cane to remove his shoes as he peered around corners. Just when he started to let panic take over, a jarring bang sounded from the kitchen.
Limping along as fast as he could, he tried his best to keep the panic from taking over. But the moment he rounded the last corner, all traces of worry faded away. Though slightly miffed, Levi couldn’t help but smirk to himself ever so slightly.
Sat in the middle of the kitchen floor and covered in both dirt and flour sat his child. He watched her tracing patterns in the mess on the floor, babbling to herself for every shape she drew. Levi cleared his through after a moment, trying his hardest to appear stern.
But he never could with his little girl.
Kuchel whipped her head around with a gasp, eyes widening at being caught. But soon enough a shrill giggle bubbled out of her throat and echoed off the walls.
“Daddy!” Kuchel cried out, slipping to her feet to tackle him in a hug. Biting back a grimace, Levi put an arm around her shoulder and peered down at her.
“What are you doing, Kuchel?” He asked in an even tone.
“Playing!” She replied innocently, blinking white powder from her eyelashes. Biting back a sigh, Levi picked her up and positioned her on his hip.
“Where’s mommy?” He asked her, brushed some dirt from her nose.
“Sleeping, again,” his daughter pouted, playing with the buttons in his coat.
“You probably tired her out, brat. Come on, we’ll get you a bath then clean this mess up.” Levi mused, unable to keep up his ‘stern father’ facade. Setting her back down he let her tug at his hand as she led the way to the bathroom, babbling and giggling all the way. They passed through the living room, seeing you slumped on the couch.
Ruffled hair, mismatched clothes, large belly poking out from under your tee shirt, lips parted and slightly chapped; Levi could only chuckle to himself as he continued on through the room.
“You know, mommy does a lot for you. For us,” Levi spoke quietly to his daughter.
“And look how pretty she looks while doing it.”
“Prettyyy,” Kuchel whispered in agreement, smiling up towards her father.
With an approving nod, they continued on.
“Now go on, get. Grab a change of clothes while I start the bath.”
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Hearing muffled giggles and low voices, you squinted your eyes open in confusion. It wasn’t but five minuets ago your daughter was bouncing on your legs, begging to go outside and play, wasn’t it? Yet looking out the window settled into the far wall you saw the last rays of the sun poking through emerald colored leaves from your front yard. Groaning, you sat yourself up and instinctively checked your belly with a soft touch. Feeling the baby stir ever so slightly, you smiled in relief.
Another loud giggle interrupted your train of thought, bringing you back to the present. Furrowing your brows, you could only imagine what Kuchel had found to occupy herself with while waiting on you to awaken and for Levi to return.
Levi…
Staggering through the living room, you peered into the kitchen to see just what the young girl was up to.
Stood in the center of the room was your daughter; a white cloth tied loosely around the bottom half of her face and a broom in her tiny hand. In front of her stood Levi; a cloth to match her’s adorning his face as he held a dust pan.
“Come on brat, it’s not that hard. I hold the pan, you brush the dirt and flour into the pan. We’ve been over this.”
“This isn’t play!” Kuchel whined, stomping her tiny foot.
“Sure it is. We’re playing cleaning; it’s the best game.”
“No it’s not!”
An unbidden chuckle escaped you, but the hand covering your mouth did nothing to muffle the noise. Both heads of raven hair shot up to stare at you in surprise as they let their cleaning supplies fall to their sides.
“Mommy!”
“Babe?”
Not knowing who to focus on first, you decided on both at the same time. Staggering forward, you ruffled Kuchel’s hair as you placed a soft kiss on Levi’s cheek.
His eyes softened significantly as he draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. Holding him tightly, you draped one of your arms over his shoulder while the other rested on Kuchel’s head. Giving them a playful glare, you looked over the half cleaned mess on the floor.
“Now just what is all this?” You questioned in mock demand. Neither of the two would meet your eye for a moment as you looked them over. Grunting something incoherent under his breath, Levi stopped down to pick up your daughter and hold her against the both of you.
“We’re playing cleaning,” Levi explained quickly, much to Kuchel’s dismay.
“No! It’s not play, it’s chores. Daddy tricked me!”
“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t made this mess in the first place.” Levi scoffed, shooting her a betrayed look.
“But I want to play outside,” Kuchel pouted. Smiling softly to yourself, you glanced up at Levi with a raised brow.
“Honey, would you mind playing with Kuchel outside for a little bit? The mess can wait; I’m exhausted and she hasn’t slowed down once today.”
Thought you thought he might pause and think up a protest, Levi didn’t. With a soft peck to your lips, his eyes lit up with a smile he so seldomly showed.
“Of course darling. Go back to resting. Kuchel and I will be out in the yard if you need anything.”
Giving him a grateful smile, you stepped back to let Kuchel fall to her feet with an excited giggle.
As she raced to put on her shoes, Levi took a step closer to you and placed a careful hand onto your belly. You both chuckled upon feeling a tiny kick against his palm.
“Missed you,” Levi whispered, leaning in to capture your lips in a longer kiss. After a passionate moment, you broke away and smiled thankfully up at him.
“I missed you too. Come join me once you’ve tired out Kuchel?”
“Give me ten minuets,” Levi mumbled against your lips before pulling back with a small smirk, seemingly already having forgotten about the messy kitchen.
As you watched them exit the house, you couldn’t help but to chuckle to yourself where you stood leaning against the wall.
Lord, what had you done to deserve them?
313 notes · View notes
Text
You've made your bed, now lie in it
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Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader
Summary: 3 times you and Lockwood have to share a bed, and one time you want to share a bed.
Warnings: one bed trope, fake dating trope, fluff, only kissing, no smut, english is not my native language
Word Count: 3.9k
After a longer break I'm finally back. Enjoy!
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The first time you and Lockwood, an insolent prick of a boss, had to share a bed, was comparable to a train wreck. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. This was how you felt, when you stared at the way too small bed in front of you. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And even if you could, where did you want to look? At the face of your far too handsome boss, hell no! Or at the floor, which was so dirty, that you were sure, that nobody cleaned it for at least a year? No, not happening.
“I will not sleep on the floor”, you stated without removing your eyes from the bed.
“Me neither!”
Hearing his voice made you seethe.  Maybe he was your boss, but he wasn’t your friend. George and Lucy were your friends, but never him.
“You booked this flop house!”, you protested.
You had a mission two hours away from London, which required you to stay for two days. Luck wasn't on your side when Lucy and George got sick four days ago, leaving only you and Lockwood to drive up here.
“But I’m the boss, so I will not sleep on the floor.”
What would you give for the opportunity to get rid of him right now? But you were too tired to kill him, you just wanted to sleep.
“Fine, then we will share”, you bit out, ready to bite off his head.  
“Fine”, he shouted back, but if you weren't mistaken, his voice sounded a bit hoarse.
Far too late, you realize what you had agreed on. You wanted to curse, but you kept your mouth shut. It was far too late to back down. He would never let you live that down. So, you had no chance. Turning your back on him, you went to your bag and took off your sweater.
“What are you doing”, the panic in his voice brought a smile to your lips.
“Getting ready for bed, what else does it look like?”
Not wanting to give the poor boy a heart attack, you put on a shirt, before unclasping your bra. Behind you, you could hear Lockwood taking a sharp breath. But you couldn’t care less. Never would you put yourself through a painful night in a bra. Opening the button of your jeans was the last straw.
“I’m going to the bathroom”, rushing past you, Lockwood loudly slammed the door shut behind him. You couldn’t help but smile, maybe you had to share a bed, but you totally won this round.
When you left the bathroom, after brushing your teeth, your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw your boss, who had already made himself comfortable on the bed.
“Where is your shirt?”
Was this his revenge for the bra? Would the entire night be psychological warfare? Not that you weren’t ready. You were ready since you stepped your first foot into Portland Row and realized, that your new boss was a jerk.
“I always sleep like this.”
Your eyes narrowed, not sure if that was a lie or the truth.
“Don’t come crying to me, if you’re too cold this night.” With these words, you slipped into bed next to him.
“I will not be cold”, he protested, and you doubted it. The room was fucking cold, you weren’t even sure if the heater was working. But you were too tired to argue with Lockwood about this, what didn’t mean, that you weren’t ready to tell him “I told you so”, when he would admit it.
“Touch me and I will kill you”, you threatened before turning off the light. Next to you, Lockwood let out a humorless laugh, which shacked the whole bed.
“Trust me, I have the same desire to touch you as I do to touch a ghost.”
“Great, we sorted that out“, you snapped back, unable to let him have the last word.
For a moment there was only silence, broken only by rustling as you both tried to find a comfortable sleeping position. Which was harder than it sounded like. The bed was way too small, and you would rather die than to cuddle with Anthony fucking Lockwood. His body was only inches away from yours, and you could feel the heat he was radiating.
“Stop hogging the blanket”, hissed Lockwood, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
“Maybe you wouldn’t need it, if you would wear a shirt like a normal person”, you spew back.
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck me yourself, you coward”, you didn’t know what was coming over you. You didn't know what made you say those words, but in the future, you would blame it on being tired.
Lockwood didn't need to be told twice. Hungrily, his lips crashed against yours and with all your anger you kissed him back, while clawing your nails in his naked shoulder. This wasn’t how you had imagined your first kiss with Lockwood. You always thought it would be sweet and slow, not raw and angry.
“I hate you so much”, you whispered against his lips, and Lockwood let out a chuckle.
“Believe me, I hate you more.”
You woke up to the sunbeams dancing on your nose. It was much warmer, than the night before, maybe the heater, had started to work overnight. This thought vanished, when you realized, that the heat was coming from your pillow, or better speaking the body you used as pillow. Suppressing a scream, you hastily tried to get away, only to back up a little too far and therefore to fall out of the small bed. You came up with a hard thud that woke up Lockwood.
“Y/N?”, sleepily Lockwood looked over the edge of the bed, and you suddenly remembered what you had done last night. A blushed creeped up your face, while you thought about the kisses you shared. At least you stopped, before it escalated. You could never forgive yourself and your morals if you had slept with Anthony Lockwood, you hated this arrogant prick.
“Are you in such a hurry to get away from me?”, running his finger through his swoon worthy hair, he gave you one of those arrogant smiles you hated so much. Seeing this, you wanted to wrap your fingers around his neck and just squeeze. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying that you were throwing yourself at him. So, you just glared up at him.
“Yes, I want to get as far as possible away from you, and I think we'd be doing both of us a favor if we forgot what happened last night and never talked about it again.”
For a moment, Lockwood looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't pure hate, at least not just.
“Last night was a mistake.”
Even if it was your idea to forget everything about last night, it hurt to hear him calling it a mistake. However, you would never give him the satisfaction of showing him that.
“At least we agree on one thing.”
The second time you and Lockwood shared a bed was nothing more than a mistake. It was shortly before Christmas, Lucy already left Portland Row to take a train to one of her sisters and George was already by his family. You had the choice between spending Christmas with your family or with Lockwood at Portland Row. It was like choosing between Scylla and Charybdis. But before you could make up your mind, Lockwood felt ill, and you weren’t the heartless bitch, he made you out to be. You didn’t want him to die, even if you often said it. But you needed this job and without Lockwood there wasn’t an agency. Therefore, you decided to stay and care about him, so he didn’t catch a pneumonia and died a painful dead, even if he deserved it.
It was all going as well as you could expect it. Lockwood was too ill to fight with you, and you only wished for his dead once or twice a day, so far less than normal. Everything was going well, till you started to fell sick. Of course, this idiot couldn’t keep his germs to himself.
You were shacking from the cold you couldn’t escape, as you went up to his room, to bring him his dinner. Normally you tried to do this as fast as possible, in and out, before he even had the chance to say anything to you. So, you didn’t have to see him longer than needed, and he didn’t have to see you longer than needed. Nothing had changed since the night you shared a bed and kisses. You still hated each other with burning passion. But this time as you stepped foot into enemy territory, aka Lockwood’s room, you realized that this was right now the warmest room in the whole house. Setting down the tray, you carefully took a seat on the only free space in his room, the edge of his bed. You wouldn’t stay long, you told yourself. Just long enough to drive the cold from your bones.
“You’re looking worse than usual, I didn’t know it was possible”, Lockwood’s annoying voice, broke your peace.
“Says the person who looks like a walking corpse”, you bite back.
“You got sick.”
“No, I’m fine.”
You didn't know who you were trying to convince with this lie. Anyone with eyes in their head could see that you weren't feeling well. However, Lockwood was too exhausted to argue with you. He just started to eat his dinner, while you closed your eyes to find the strength to stand up and leave this warm behind you.
The next time you opened your eyes, you weren’t sitting on the edge of Lockwood’s bed, you were lying in it. You weren’t sure, how it happened, but you were sure it was just an honest mistake, which could happen to everyone. Feeling too sick to panic, all you could just concentrate on was that you were finally warm. You managed to successfully ignore Lockwood's arm over your hip and his steady breathing on your neck. This was a problem you would deal with when you felt not like dying any minute. Closing your eyes for a second time, you drifted away.                 
The first thing you realized, when you woke up the next morning was, that Lockwood’s warm was missing. He had sneaked out of his own bed, while you were still sleeping. So, this was the perfect chance for you to sneak away to not have to face Lockwood after accidentally falling asleep in his bed. But you couldn’t muster the strength to move. You could just lay there and wait for your doom, aka that Lockwood returned.
It didn’t take long for him to come back. In his hands, he held the tray you used the last days to bring him food.
“I brought you breakfast”, giving you the tray, he got in the bed beside you. If someone had told you, that you would spend Christmas eating breakfast with Lockwood in his bed, you would have laughed and called the person delusional. But here you were. Neither of you had the energy to argue, so you both just ate in silence.
“You should try to get more rest”, Lockwood told you, after both of you finished eating, and he was right, not that you would ever say this out loud.
“You too, you still look like shit”, maybe he was a little bit fitter than you, but he was worlds away from being healthy.
“Fine”, he bit back, another sign, that he was everything but healthy. Normally he would have said something mean in response, but he just laid down beside you. For a moment, nobody said something. Then you shuffled a little bit in his direction, attracted by the warmth he radiated. He acknowledged this with raised eyebrows.
“I’m just cold, don't imagine anything about it.”
“I would never!”
The rest of the holidays you spent together in his bed. It was a surprise for both of you, that at the end, when you both felt better, no one had torn off the other’s head.
When Lucy and George came back and asked how your holidays were, you both just shrugged. What really happened was probably a secret that you both would take to your grave. You quickly found back in your everyday life of hating each other, and it was almost as if none of this had ever happened. But only almost.
The third time you had to share a bed with Lockwood would have been avoidable if Lucy had been a little bit more cooperative.
Lockwood and Co. had a new, very lucrative case. You were hired to secure a very dangerous source. The catch was, that the owner was one of those weirdos who was a little too enthusiastic about the occult. He was planning a two-day seance with an overnight stay at his manor, and your client had managed to get you an invitation. The only problem was that the invitation was for one guest and a plus-one. There was no question that Lockwood would go. But your team couldn't agree on who would accompany him. George wasn’t an option, that would bring too much attention. That only left you and Lucy.
“We all know that I’m a bad liar, nobody would believe me, that I’m Lockwood’s girlfriend”, Lucy stated. Normally you loved Lucy, she was your best friend. But right now, you could have punched her.
“As if anyone would think I was dating Lockwood”, you countered and directed to the asshole himself, you said: “I would never date someone like you.”
“And I would never date someone like you”, he fired back, and you didn’t have to look at Lucy and George to see them rolling their eyes, like always when Lockwood and you decided to argue.
“With the sexual tension between you, no one will doubt that you are dating”, Lucy butted in and could be glad, that looks didn’t kill otherwise she would be six feet under.
“There is no sexual tension, only hate”, you argued hotly.
You would never admit that there was maybe sexual tension, because if you would, you would think about it, you would think about the kisses in this one fatal night and that was a way, you didn’t want to go. Because if you would go down this path, there was no return to normal. Therefore, it was way easier to tell yourself and anybody else, that you hated Anthony J. Lockwood with burning passion.
“But Lucy is right, Y/N should join Lockwood”, George the little backstabber joined Lucy’s side. Knowing when a fight was lost, you ran your hand over your face.
“This can only go wrong.”
You should be right.  You weren’t even an hour at the manor, and you hated everything. The weirdos got on your nerves with their own stupidity. Lockwood's arm had been around your waist for almost 43 minutes, and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off and hit him with it to dead. Yeah, you were everything than happy. I didn’t help, that Lockwood had decided that fake girlfriend wasn’t fancy enough and had given you an engagement ring before he introduced you to everyone as his fiancée. You were dead and in hell, otherwise you couldn’t explain, how you landed in this situation. At least the ring was pretty.
“We should sneak away and look for the source”, you whispered, only loud enough for him barely to hear you. Slowly, Lockwood nodded to let you know that he heard you. Calculating, he let his gaze wander about the other people in the room, probably to find the best way to disappear unnoticed.
“We should kiss”, he said after a moment, and somehow managed to seem totally serious.
“What?”, you almost choked from sheer surprise.
“If we make out, no one will be surprised if we disappear, everyone will just think that we were looking for a quiet corner to have a little fun.”
Hearing this, you grimaced. But he wasn’t wrong. Nobody would think much about you sneaking off when you first put on a show. Without a verbal response, you grabbed Lockwood by his tie and pulled him down to your height. Hungrily, you caught his lips with yours. Lockwood didn’t waste any time and pulled your body against his. Eagerly his hands roamed over your body, and you had the feeling, that this meant a little bit more to both of you, than just a show for a case. Not that you would ever admit it.
When your lungs were screaming for air, you reluctantly broke the kiss.
“You’re actually a really good kisser”, Lockwood smiled down at you, and it felt like your stomach was riding a rollercoaster.
“You’re actually very average”, you lied like the liar you were. But the truth was, there was nothing you would like more than to kiss him again.
“Like, you have kissed so many guys to know what average is. Feel free to admit it, I’m a good kisser.”
Seeing his arrogant smile, you just rolled your eyes.
“Let’s go, so we didn’t kiss for nothing!”
Together you walked through the manor, till you found the library, your first guess for the location of the source. You just started to look around when you heard steps coming in your direction. Before you could find a good hiding space, the door opened and nobody else than the owner of the manor, the weirdo you wanted to steal from, was standing there.
“Miss, did you get lost? The library is not open for the guest”, he told you, and you tried your best innocent smile. But Lockwood appeared beside you before you could try to lie your way out of it.
“I’m so sorry, Sir. My fiancée and I were just trying to find a quiet room”, he gave the owner his best Lockwood smile, while his arms found again his way around your hip.
“Then I would suggest trying the bedroom assigned to you.”
Under his caution eyes, you and Lockwood walked out of the library.
“I saw the source”, Lockwood whispered in your ear, at the moment the door closed behind you.
“Did you take it?”
“No, didn’t have the chance, but we can do it tomorrow, right now we should return to our bedroom, or do you want to socialize a little bit more with the other guest?” Hell no!
“Let’s go.”
Of course, your bedroom had only one bed. At least it was big. You and Lockwood could both sleep in it without touching each other. Without saying much and more important without arguing, you both got ready for bed. Of course, Lockwood decided against wearing a shirt.
“I hope one night you will freeze to death”, you mumbled while slipping under the blanket.
“I’m too hot for this and considering how you always cuddle up to me at night, you know it too.”
Rarely, you were lost for words, but this was one of these moments.
“Keep dreaming, Lockwood”, you shot back, but both of you knew that this was a lame response. As a reaction, Lockwood just gave you a cocky grin.
“We'll see that tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, we will.”
You firmly resolved to keep a lot of distance from Lockwood and his tempting warmth that night.
But waking up the next morning, you realized that you could even break the best resolutions. Like this one. Lockwood was like a mobile heater, and that was too tempting for you when you were sleeping. This night was no difference. As you had been asleep, you had cuddled yourself in Lockwood’s side, and he had draped an arm around you, to pull you even further against him.
With a bright red face, you tried to free yourself from his hug. But your movement woke him up.
“Look like I was right, I’m hot, and you know it”, sleepy, he smiled up at you.
Torn back and forth, you closed and opened your mouth. You weren’t sure if you should kiss him or choke him till he died. You did neither.
“Or maybe you are just so touch starved that you can’t help but hold me in your sleep”, you countered.
“Maybe, but who could blame me?”
Too stunned to speak, you just stared at him. Was he flirting with you? Or were you just hallucinating? It must be the second. Maybe you were still dreaming.
“It feels really nice to hold you in my arms.”
“But aren’t we hating each other?”, a bit overwhelmed, you ran your hand through your hair. You were here to steal a source, not to talk abut feeling with Lockwood, you weren’t prepared for this.
“I never hated you, and I think you also don’t hate me.”
That was a bold statement, but maybe it was the truth. You weren’t sure what you felt for Lockwood. He had been an asshole to you from day one. And you hadn’t been better. Since the beginning, he had something that you just wanted to kiss or kill him. Because you were an insecure mess, you had decided to be mean to him rather than get hurt by him.
“But why were you such an asshole?”, you asked, curious.
“Because you let me something feel, I don’t like. In your presence, I feel so giddy and nervous, not like the agency head I should be.”
“We are such idiots. You are an idiot, but maybe I’m the biggest idiot of all. Seeing your face let me feel stronger emotions than I ever felt before, and I’m not sure if I want to kill or kiss you for it.”
“Then kiss me.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice. You kissed him like you always wanted to be kissed, like nothing in the world mattered to you beside him. And maybe this was true, the first thing you thought about was normally him and the last thing which crossed your mind before falling asleep was his dorky smile. You loved him, and you were an idiot, that it took you so long to realize it.  
The first time you wanted to share a bed with Lockwood was after you and him returned successfully from your mission. You stole the source without getting caught, and after you told Lucy and George how you did it, you were sitting in the living room. Lucy and George already went to bed and you both were peacefully silent. The only sound was the cracking of the logs in the fireplace, while Lockwood played softly with your hand in his. You were still wearing the ring he had given you. You had wanted to give it back to him, but he insisted that you keep it.
“Do you need a personal heater this night?”, Lockwood broke the silence, and you gave him a bashful smile.
“Maybe?”
“Are my eyes deceiving me or is that a smile, my love?”
“Oh, shut up.”
You were still laughing when Lockwood pulled you up from the sofa. Hand in hand, you walked up the stairs to his bedroom and for the first time in your life, you wanted to share a bed with him. So, this was what you did. Slipping under the blanked with him, you let him pull yourself in his arms. With your head laying on his naked chest and a happy smile, you slowly drifted away.      
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