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#fuck out of my life the doors right there
luveline · 2 days
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hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!
thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 
You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 
It’s not fun. 
You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 
Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 
The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird
A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 
You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 
You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 
You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 
I miss you too, you text back. 
Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later
Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 
You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 
“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 
“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 
“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 
“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 
He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 
He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 
“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” 
“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 
You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 
He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 
“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.
“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 
You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.
“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 
“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 
“I don’t want mystery with you.” 
Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 
“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 
You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 
“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 
You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 
Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.
Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 
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Hi, I was stalking you a little and discovered this https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/works/949418 fic where Stiles is accidentally seducing Derek acting like a ideal mate without even knowing and I was wondering if you had other fics like this one.
Even if you don't I want to thank you for your hard work! Ganbatte kudasai!
Hi @nenehyuuchiha! I think so.
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You're Turning Heads When You Walk Through The Door by Sheynora
(1/5 I 7,612 I Explicit)
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence:
Kate knows the weak link in the Hale Pack.
It'll be easy; seduce Derek and use his love to destroy the pack. Only... this loud-mouthed, klutz named Stiles keeps getting in the way. Derek can't notice Kate if he's too busy noticing Stiles.
Damn Stiles for being so sexy
---------------------------------
Or the AU where the Hale Fire didn't happen, but Kate Argent plans to make it happen. Except Stiles and his accidental sexiness keep ruining Kate's plans to seduce Derek.
***
Cause I Built A Home (For You, For Me) by nymphe
(1/1 I 6,860 I Teen)
Erica is giggling somewhere in the background. “I think he’d like exactly what you’d like, mom.”
Or, a 5 Times fic wherein Stiles doesn’t realize he’s been accidentally co-parenting a gang of furry teenagers/displaying Perfect Mate Characteristics, + the 1 Time Derek enlightens him.
Wanted and Wounded by RoxyRosee
(3/3 I 12,781 I Explicit)
Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits.
Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side.
So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.
Try To See It My Way by Phantomlimb
(19/19 I 24,577 I Mature)
Derek has no fucking clue about what to do. He doesn't know how to woo someone. Let alone if that someone is Stiles
The Boy Is Mine, You Bonkers! by frownypup
(3/3 I 35,535 I Explicit)
It turns out that the words ‘a painfully smart and brave unclaimed human who is stupidly unutilized in Beacon Hill’s pack’ became the hottest gossip in werewolf underground. Yes, what the hell. Stiles’ existence has changed from a plankton to a rising sun.
Derek Hale has something he needs to say about it.
for a good time, call... by EvanesDust 
(10/10 I 46,841 I Explicit)
Stiles unlocks his phone to send out a quick text asking his father what he wants to eat, even though he’ll get salad regardless, and notices a strange number on his recent call log.
His face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns on him.
Oh shit.
Events from the night before peek through the hazy fog of his mind. Stiles thought, or he was hoping, that the phone call was a dream. But there it is, staring at him in the face—a one minute and 57-second call to an unfamiliar number.
Oh God.
Did he seriously call someone—possibly an alpha werewolf!—for phone sex?
...Or the one where Stiles drunk dials a very grumpy alpha werewolf and propositions him for phone sex. Hilarity, misunderstandings, and feelings ensue.
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cheynovak · 2 days
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Sleeping beauty
Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     
Summary: REQUEST: Dean sees Y/N sleeping, in his bed, in his shirt and it drives him insane. The heat he feels rushing through his veins. And it's all because she looks so good while sleeping. He just can't keep his hands to himself.
Warnings: 18+ Explicit, Somno, mastrubating, unprotected P in V, slight dominance, ...
English is not my first language 
*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 
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Dean pushed open the heavy metal door of the bunker with a quiet grunt, his entire body aching from the hunt. The long drive back had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles, and the only thing on his mind was crashing in his bed.
Dean pushed open the heavy metal door of the bunker with a quiet grunt, his entire body aching from the hunt. The long drive back had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles, and the only thing on his mind was crashing in his bed.
It was late—really late. The dim lights of the bunker cast a soft, familiar glow over the stone walls, offering a kind of comfort he rarely admitted to feeling.
The hunt had been brutal, but it was over. For now, at least. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, feeling the grit of the day clinging to him like a second skin.
All he wanted was to crawl under his sheets and sleep for as long as his mind would allow, which wasn’t ever as long as he hoped.
Kicking off his boots near the war room, planning on taking a quick shower, just to clean up before going to bed. Or that was what he thought he'd do. He padded silently down the hall toward his room.
As he got closer, a sense of something different hit him—something warm, something familiar. The door to his room was slightly open, a thin warm light spilling into the hallway from the bedside lamp.
Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, but the weariness in his body kept him from thinking too much about it.Pushing the door open, he froze in the doorway.
There, nestled in the middle of his bed, lay Y/N.
She was on her side, facing away from him, curled up in the middle of his bed like she belonged there.
The soft fabric of his worn, oversized flannel shirt draped loosely over her body, the sleeves bunched around her hands.
The sheets were tangled between her legs, one knee tucked up and the other stretched out, the thin blanket doing little to hide her body. Her hair spilled across the pillow, framing her peaceful face.
Her hip and ass showing over the sheets since she wore little to nothing except a pair of panties, Oh god... what is she doing to me!
Dean couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. His eyes glued on her body. A part of him was surprised, but another part—one he rarely allowed to surface—felt like this was right. Like seeing her here was what he needed after a hunt like that.
After a life like this. Come home, find her naked or nearly naked in bed, fuck her till he find sleep himself.
His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. Before he silently took his fresh shirt and boxers to go shower. While he closed the door behind him softly he kept looking not to wake her.
His mind spiralled in the shower. Why was she there? Did she miss him or maybe her own hunt was shitty and she needed him?
But all he could think of was her curves, how her ass lifted in the air, calling his name. Dean's cock was throbbing, his hand moved instinctively to it, making the release quick and hard.
But the second he turned the shower off, thanks to his own vivid imagination, he was hard again.
He walked back to his room, half expecting Y/N to be gone. But no... she was still there, in the same position.
The soft rise and fall of her breath was the only sound in the room, the quiet rhythm calming something deep inside of him. She looked peaceful, completely at ease. It was such a stark contrast to the usual chaos of their lives. And she was in his bed, wearing his shirt.
She turned a little more, showing herself a little better. Dean’s lips quirked up into the faintest hint of a smile. She is asking for it.
He stepped forward quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight, but Y/N only stirred for a second before settling back into her dreams.
She looked so small wrapped in his clothes, the shirt swallowing her frame, and the sight did something to his heart (and cock) he couldn’t quite explain.
For a while, Dean just watched her sleep. His eyes traced the soft lines of her face, the way her lashes brushed her cheeks, how her lips parted slightly with each breath. Hands hovering over her curves wanting to touch her skin.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, just soaking in the moment, but for once, there was no urgency. No looming threat, no ticking clock. Just her, and the quiet sound of their breathing. Unless he counted his erection as a ticking time bomb...
They often enough had a quick fuck during or after a hunt. Just to release stress, this wasn’t different, all though he tried to ignore the sensation his cock was giving him. Just releasing stress.
He leaned back slightly, his hand coming so close to touch her. The warmth of her skin was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, and he found himself wondering again how she’d ended up here.
Did she miss him while he was gone? Had she come looking for comfort in his absence? Or was she desperately looking for sex. That wouldn't be a first.
They shared a bed... couch... car... They settled boundaries before. And this was something he knew she'd be into.
His hand now warm on her hip made her lean closer to him, showing him a little more.
His flannel hung loosely off her shoulder, exposing the smooth skin of her collarbone, seeing how she was naked under his shirt.
Fuck! Dean had to fight the urge to reach out, to touch her, to pull her close, to knead and feel her breasts, feel how her soft nipple hardened with his touch.
Instead, he let out a soft sigh and ran a hand down her leg.
Carefully, not to wake her, Dean turned beside her on the bed, The mattress shifted slightly, and Y/N stirred again, her brow furrowing for a moment before she relaxed once more. Dean turned on his side, facing her, his head resting on the pillow just inches from hers.
But he couldn't stop himself. His hand moved slowly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. The touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid of shattering the calm of the moment.
His fingers moved over her collarbone to her breast softly kneading her flesh.
As if sensing his presence even in her sleep, Y/N shifted closer to him. Her body instinctively pressed into his, her ass moving against his hips.
Dean’s breath hitched at the contact, the feel of her so close sending a warmth through him. Fuck he needed her!
She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his sheets. Dean chuckled softly under his breath, a rare sound in the stillness of the room.
“You always steal my shirts.” he whispered, even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him. His voice was rough with exhaustion and need but soft, the kind of tone he only used when it was just the two of them.
"This time you'll need to pay for it princess." He whispered while his hand dipped between her legs. Unknowingly she let him, moving her leg a little higher. "Fuck you're so wet already... did you...?" his voice broke off.
Would she? The idea of her playing with herself in his bed, in his flanel drove him insane. Her breath became deeper while his fingers played with her. Drawing slow easy circles on her clit.
He tugged her panties aside, before he freed his throbbing dick from his boxers. No longer able to wait, he rubbed himself against her wet core. The feeling almost enough to come then and there.
Seeing how her panties get wet with their movement.
A soft moan escaped her mouth, "D-Dean?" her voice sounded sleepy. Her hand moved back, trying to find him, and she did, pretty easily she found the back of his head, pulling him closer.
His other arm slid under her, pulling her just a little closer, and she instinctively settled into him, her head now resting against his chest.
"Shh..." He whispered. He turned her on to her belly, granting himself more access. Her hand kneading the pillow while he adjusted himself. Pulling her panties further down. Kneading her ass, kissing her flesh.
He guided himself inside, feeling her thighten just a little by the surprise of him. Her body reacted, a soft "Mhm." escaped her mouth, not knowing weither she was fully awake or he'd just given her a great dream.
"D-Dean?" she moaned sleepy. "What are you...Oh!" He leaned in closer, thrusting all the way in "Just enjoy baby." He said before he kissed her neck. She was clearly awake now, pushing her ass up so he could thrust deeper.
His hand fisted her hair, "Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing to me? Sleeping in my bed, halve naked."
"Mhm..."
"What did you think of when you tickled that pretty little cunt of yours." Her head lifted. He knew... but he bit playfully in her neck. to hold her down.
"I felt it... while you where sleeping, I felt how wet you where without me even touching you." A breathy "Oh." escaped her mouth.
"You wanted me to fuck your sleeping pussy didn't you."
All she could was moan in response.
"Yes..."
--
Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.
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olivianott · 3 days
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BRAIN CHEMISTRY
Tell me I’m not the only one happily not recovered from the deatheatertok (yes that’s why I’ve been MIA😬) and the Lorenzo Zurzolo gifs from the other day? 😭 I could not help myself with this one.
READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, OCTOBER CAME EARLY TO ME.
ꕤ 1.6k words 
ꕤ deatheater!Theo Nott x fem!reader
ꕤ warnings: toxic ex, deatheater Theodore, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content, not for minors, 18+
ꕤ all characters are adults
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You knew you were in trouble. That you fucked up. You somehow found yourself at a party in an unknown manor. You and your friend got talking with some people at a pub and now you are surrounded by glimmering Death Eater masks. Everyone is acting as if they are just having fun at a party. But you see their eyes following the two of you everywhere. 
You already know what is going on at these parties. You heard stories, awful stories, from him. You wonder if he is in attendance. No. Stop thinking about him, he didn’t want you anymore. He is one of them after all. 
You try to think of a way out for you and your friend. Get drinks, but don’t drink them, discreetly inch towards the entrance while smiling and acting like you’re having the time of your life, getting through the door and the few steps over the anti-apparition wards and poof, you’re both safe. 
That was the plan. Everything went smoothly, until just before getting through the door, your path is crossed by a tall Death Eater with an overly decorated mask. “Hello, beautiful.” He says while you watch your friend successfully execute the plan and disappear with a crack. 
You turn around and try to escape the lewd gaze of the big Death Eater, but there is another one in your path and you realize you are surrounded. Fuck. This is not good. No, don’t panic, don’t panic.
You panic.
Your vision starts to blur and you can’t seem to think straight. Heart in your throat, the ground becomes unsteady. Another mask enters your field of vision, too close to your face. This mask looks elegant, not overly decorated, but with artistic lines strategically curved around the planes of the artificial face. He grabs you by the upper hand and starts to drag you away from the crowd that formed around you, barking something to the other Death Eaters. You try to fight him off but it’s not working, his grip tightens and when you don’t stop, he loses patience with you and puts his wand under your chin. It doesn’t hurt but the threat makes you tremble in fear.
The man leans down next to your ear and hisses: “STOP IT.” The voice is so hard and threatening but at the same time familiar. 
You momentarily freeze and that gives him time to drag you through the hall and into a bedroom. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
He closes the door after you and you finally have time to compose yourself, because he goes to the other side of the room, leaving you alone. While he locks the room with his wand, your mind clears slowly. You suddenly realize why the voice is so familiar. 
Theodore Nott. 
You’ve never seen him in his Death Eater robes and a mask before, but now you can’t stop looking at him. 
Theodore turns around, throws his mask on the bed, and stalks to you so fast, you actually step back in fear until your back is against the door. “Why the fuck are you here?!” He spits in your face, his eyes are feral and full of anger but also fear. 
“It was an accident, my friend thought it would be a good idea to-“ 
“To what? To enter a devil’s lair full of fucking Death Eaters that enjoy killing too much and don’t ask for permission to do anything? Don’t you fucking know what’s going on at these gatherings? Fucking hell!” He is talking quietly but with so much anger, you can actually feel his magic vibrating between you. 
“What’s it to you? You’re one of them now, you look like you’re right at home at this vile party, huh?” 
“Do you really think I like it? That I wanted this? Do you even know where you are?”
“In some nasty pureblood’s manor?”
“Yes. Welcome to the Nott manor.” His sarcastic smile falls off his face as he looks down and backs off of you, finally letting you breathe air. 
Oh. Nott manor. It’s his home. 
“Are you actually hosting this party?”
“Well, as I said, those people don’t ask permission for anything, so here we are. But now you are here and you made this night even more difficult for me. They have set their eyes on you now and they are hungry, in more ways than one. The Death Eaters need their food, and they like to play with it before eating.” 
He says this so matter of factly it takes a while for your mind to catch the whole truth of what you’ve casually walked into tonight. 
“You’re a Death Eater too now.”
“Exactly.” He smirks. 
You’ve missed him so much. His scent brings back memories, and you feel your body heat up despite his arrogant behavior and attempts to scare you off.
“What- what are you going to do to me?” You say breathlessly. Without your permission, your mind shows you pictures of you and him from the past, the little bit of fear just heightening your excitement. 
“Oh please, you know I’m not like-“ he stops himself mid-sentence and focuses his glare on your throat, pulsing with blood rushing through you, your red cheeks, your trembling hands, the rise and fall of your chest. 
“Now I remember.” His mouth curves in this arrogant smirk and his eyes look mischievous at the same time as dangerous. 
“You like danger… you like being scared, amore? Does it turn you on? Tonight you bit more than you could chew though, princessa. And now…. You are trapped in here. With me.” 
You can’t respond to him, but your body does. Your breathing gets more labored and you can’t help your gaze falling to his lips. 
His hand starts roaming down your body while again hovering over you, leaning against the door, the height difference between you more obvious than ever. 
“I- uhh…-“ you are unable to say more. But you close the distance between you and crash your lips against his. 
Theodore groans loudly, takes both your hands in his, and slams them against the door above your head. 
“Oh princessa, you don’t know what you just started, do you?” His hard kisses resume and your mind is filled up with sensations. 
The feel of his body against yours, the hardness of the door digging into your back, his teeth biting your lips, dragging against your throat, his lips sucking on your pulse point. 
Your eyes are closed, but you feel your feet leave the ground as Theodore picks you up and sends you flying on the bed. While crawling over you on the bed, he picks up his mask and puts it on his face. 
Fuuuuck. 
You can barely see his eyes staring down at you from behind the mask, in between the short strands of hair falling down around it. 
The world is a blur now, clothes start flying off of you, his hands tracing your curves. Suddenly he loses patience and flips you over, on your hands and knees on the bed. With his hand under your chin, he makes you look up. A mirror. Your moan is embarrassingly loud. The vision of him in his mask behind you, admiring you through the mirror, hand grabbing your throat… you’ve never seen anything hotter. With his other hand he traces your wetness and groans into your ear: “So ready for me princessa, you really do get turned on with fear and danger. How nasty of you. Was this your plan all along? To get fucked by a Death Eater?”
You can only manage to shake your head no, since he is already opening his Death Eater robes and taking out his beautiful cock. 
“I bet you were hoping to find me here, right? Wanted to make me take you back? Make sweet love and be together forever?“ He chuckles condescendingly at that thought. „Look at you now, writhing under me, dying for me to fuck you like this, with my mask on. Scream for me, princessa.” You can’t see the expression on his face since he is wearing his mask but his words are so degrading and harsh. And still, your eyes roll back into your head. 
And you do scream for him, you can’t help it, you are overwhelmed with sensation, his hands, his cock, his scent. After a while, your arms give out and he pushes your chest down into the bed, holding your hands crossed behind your back, you can’t even move. You are completely at his mercy and the feelings in your head are so confusing. You feel pathetic, under him like this, your body getting rocked by his trusts, but still, the way his cock feels inside you, the way he seems so powerful and in control of you and your pleasure with the way he manipulates your body and mind creates a fog inside your brain. Surrounded by his grunts, you realize he is using you for his satisfaction, seemingly oblivious and uncaring about your comfort or pleasure. You being completely naked, with your face in the mattress while he is still fully clothed behind you is just another layer of the humiliation. But your fucked up brain makes you love it so much that with his whimpery moans in your ear you finally lose control as you feel him lose the rhythm and push all the way inside you, so incredibly deep,  as he spills himself inside you. 
There is no cuddling after. He unceremoniously pulls out and sits in his bed propped up against the headboard, a trembling hand bringing a cigarette to his mouth, while you try to find your clothes and dignity on the floor. 
“Nice show. You were loud enough, so now they know you’re mine and hopefully leave you alone. Doesn’t change anything between us though. You can use the floo to get out of here and I hope to never see you at these things again, you understand me?” He says all of this so coldly and without even looking at you at all, so you quickly throw on your clothes and leave through the floo, throwing a “you’re still the same asshole” at him over your shoulder. 
Sitting on your sofa two days later, you are replaying everything that happened that day in your head. Your brain keeps getting stuck on the fear in his eyes when he dragged you to the room, a shaking cigarette in his hand after the sex, a slight tremble in his voice while he kicked you out of the manor after fucking you into oblivion. 
Maybe everything is not as he wants you to believe. He saved you from them after all. 
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As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. I’m not done with deatheater!Theo though 🤭.
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‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ Your principessa ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚
If you want more: 🖤here🖤
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d1g1tal-d1ary · 2 days
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Part 2 of my addicted!Simon headcanon!!
Price always had a lot going on; being the Captain of a Task Force demanded a lot of time, energy and most of all - nerves.
So when one of the nurses on base had pulled him aside and said that she suspected someone stealing Morphine, all he did was nod and call in a meeting. Luckily, everyone had obliged to giving him a urine sample to let it be tested for drugs.
What no one seemed to notice was Simon's eyes staring into nothingness as all he did was pray that his heavy heart wouldn't give his covers away. His head was spinning because he searched for a way out of this - there had to be a way he didn't have to take it. And suddenly his mind started to wander off to you; the only one who'd met him without knowing he was Ghost. The only one who knew he had a problem - a fucking big one right now - and the only one who understood him was you.
One hand tightly gripping the little cup, the other one knocking loudly on your door. He didn't hesitate when the door opened; he simply pushed it open and walked into your tiny apartment.
"Simon?" you asked with a frown plastered on your face. You hadn't expected him - of course you hadn't so all you were wearing was one of your cute pyjamas you avoided to wear around him normally. "Is everything okay?"
"I messed up," was all that came across his lips with a heavy sigh. When his gaze met yours, all he could do was put the cup on your kitchen table and point at it. "I need your help."
You stepped closer and eyed the little cup and when you realized what exactly he'd asked you to do, you shook your head. "No, I'm not helping you fake a drugtest."
"Please, luvie," his eyes studied your face - he reduced the distance between you two quickly and took your face into his rough and calloused hands. "I'll never ask anythin' of you ever again. Just let me keep my job, fuck- it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane all this time."
Of course your heart sank when you heard his pleading and even more so when you looked up at him and you could see the desperation in his blue eyes. After moments had passed - which felt like years for Simon - you'd finally nodded and given in to him.
"I knew you'd understand," he whispered and pecked your lips before letting you go take the drugtest.
You'd never felt so dirty in your life. Pissing into a little cup while Simon waited impatiently outside the bathroom made you feel greedy and so, so worthless. But if you were being honest; there was nothing you wouldn't do for Simon. Of course you weren't supporting his addiction - that was the main reason you had broken up, after all. But he was your Simon. The closest you'll ever get to finding unconditional love.
A few days after Simon had given the sample to Price - he'd been the last to hand it over - the test results finally came. And Price would never doubt his team; they'd done everything together for years at this point, but he could also imagine one of his soldiers having an addiction as it was nothing new.
To his surprise and relief, all the test results came back negative. But looking at Simon's results made him frown - or more so, all he could do was huff at the result.
"You wanted to speak to me?" Simon had stepped into Price's office; not even thinking that it could have anything to do with the drugtest as he knew you hadn't taken any.
Price's eyes never left Simon's form. He watched him intensly as he took the seat across from Price's desk. "Yeah, well, the results came back and since you're L.T., I thought you'd deserve to know before everyone else."
Simon hummed in response while leaning back, silently thanking you again.
"Luckily, everyone's negative," Price announced which made Simon even more relaxed. "But.. The Lab was a bit confused and thought something went wrong as Simon Riley's clearly a male name."
"Captain, I don't think I can follow you," Simon had frowned under his balaclava.
Price barked a bitter laugh as he looked at the Lieutnant in front of him. "They found the hormone Beta-hCG in your piss. You wanna know what that means?"
All Simon could do was nod; unaware of what's to come.
"The fuckin' piss is from someone who's pregnant," Price lowly said. "So now we not only know this wasn't your piss, but I think you two would've been smart enough to know we‘d find out. So, Riley, should I say congratultions?"
Y‘all wanna read part 3???!!! 🙏😭
149 notes · View notes
idyllcy · 3 days
Text
you make me wanna make ya fall in love
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word count: 1.97k || EMT Leon || slightly ooc + flirting (HIPAA violation)
summary: the 2000s called, they want their romcom plot back
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"I'm actually gonna pass out." You sit on the couch, blinking rapidly as your head goes light.
"I called 911 already, so hang in there, alright?!" Ashley stays connected to the call, holding you up as you groan, stomach caving in on itself and your eyes giving out. Oh, god, is this how you die? You focus on breathing through your mouth, ignoring the way Ashley's voice is reduced to ringing and the way you're sweating buckets. Ew. Maybe you should've— oh. this is because you didn't eat, huh? It is 8pm. Yeah, this one's on you. Maybe the heavens will be nice and let a nice hot EMT show up to your door and save your ass— yeah, tough luck.
You can't believe you're about to pass out and all you can think about is men. You're literally failing the Bechdel test. What are you? Some poor girl in a teenage romcom? You're not even a teenager.
You close your eyes for some shut-eye, disrupted when you're shaken awake, blinking slowly as you catch sight of Ashley first, holding her chest in relief when you stare at her.
Then, you notice him—
Beautiful blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, arms hard as a rock, you might've just died and landed in heaven. Are you in heaven? Surely you must be. This man looks so gorgeous it's incredible. You have to be in heaven right now. You blink at him with doe-eyes, confusion visible on your face. Ashley's here, so you're not in heaven. Did you just happen to have a super hot EMT show up to your door like you had been imagining? Oh, god, are you... psychic? This is a revelation! This is insane! You have to—
No, seriously. You're not in a romcom. Can the narrator stop describing it like it's some sort of a romcom? The 2000s called, they want their cheesy romcom plotline back.
"Fucking hell." You groan, shifting against the wall. "How long was I out?"
"Ten minutes." The man reads. "You're just low in blood sugar. We have some orange juice, would you like that?"
"Yeah. Sure." You furrow your brows. "God, wow, count on my body to shut down without sugar."
"It happens." He thanks his coworker for the glass, holding it to your lips. "Tilt, please."
You tilt your head back slightly to press your lips to the glass, drinking it as you lean back to lick your lips, offering to take the glass from him as your arms start cooperating. "I can do it."
"Best not to." He nods. "Just finish the glass. We'll stay until your blood sugar rises."
"Isn't it almost immediate?"
"Takes around 15 minutes."
You raise a brow at Ashley, who shakes her head, and you finish the rest of the glass, watching as Leon checks your stats.
"How often does this happen..." You glance at his nameplate. "Leon?"
"More often than you'd think." He hums, tilting his head at you as Ashley talks to the other worker about your insurance. "Let me guess, you forgot to eat?"
"Yeah. My body stops feeling hunger after a certain point." You hum. "It's not super good, huh?"
"Yeah. Try to have some candy or juice throughout the day. It helps." He nods. "College student life, huh?"
You tilt your head. "How old are you?"
"Been a few years since school." He nods. "Your blood sugar's back to normal, sugar."
You hold your hand over your mouth, raising a brow at him. "That definitely breaks some sort of work protocol."
He smiles, sneaking you a candy from his pocket with a wink.
Huh. Hard caramel.
"Are you alright?" Ashley rests a hand on your shoulder, and you give her a thumbs up.
"All good." You lean against the wall to get up. "I should eat, though."
Leon grabs your arm, helping you up. "Definitely. Have something high in sugar or carbs."
"Will do, Leon." You nod. "Wishing you an uneventful work day. May no emergency be absolutely awful."
"Thank you. Those days are the best."
You send them off as Ashley starts nagging about not eating, and you pout as you lock eyes with her, door locked, ambulance gone.
"Yeah, he was hot."
"YEAH, HE WAS."
You forget about him, though. You start popping candy throughout the day, same brand as the one Leon had given you, your lips curled upwards sweetly when it hits your tongue. It's not food, but at least you won't be passing out because your blood sugar's low again.
You're also never going to see him again, so it's fine if you carry a piece of him around with you.
Except you do. You see him at the EMT booth at a local concert, Ashley in your arms because there's something wrong with her this time. (You really ought to start taking care of yourselves, huh?)
"Ah, sugar." Leon smiles. "Friend this time?"
"Yes." You set her down as he checks up on her. "Is she okay?"
"Seems fine. Just needs some water. Dehydration. How long you been out there?"
"Since morning." You glance at the venue. "Didn't eat either, though I've been having candy."
"That's not good for you, sugar." He hands Ashley a bottle of water, sending her off with you. "Go grab some food."
You watch as he fishes out a twenty from his pocket, blinking as he holds it out to you.
"I can't take that from you, sir."
"Nonsense. Concert food is expensive. It's on me." He smiles.
"You're still breaking workplace rules, I see." You rummage through your pockets, taking Leon's hand as you place a caramel in his hand. "As a thank you."
"I'm sure it'll be delicious later." He smiles. "Now, off you go. We've got quite a line."
"Wouldn't dream of holding you up, Leon." You lead Ashley to the side by the crowds, waiting for her to grab a drink before pulling her to grab something to eat. You pay for her food first, setting Ashley with the rest of your friends before waving to get something of your own.
"Get his number!" She manages to yell as you disappear into the crowd.
Now that's breaking protocol.
Yet, you use the remainder of Leon's money to get him something to eat, waiting for the line to dissipate slightly before handing him a drink.
"For me?"
"It's got... liquid IV in it." You scrunch your nose. "Hopefully that's not a scam."
"Not completely." He takes it from you, pinching at the straw to mix it. "Did you eat?"
"I was about to."
He glances at his coworker and then the intermission.
"That'd be bad, Kennedy." The woman next to him warns.
Leon sighs. "Have fun eating."
"Thank you again." You grin.
"Ah, and for dessert." He reaches for your hand, placing another candy in it. "A hard caramel."
"I'm starting to think you have a thing for caramels, Leon." You raise a brow, taking two steps back before throwing a wave his way. "I'll pay you back later!"
You grab dinner with the rest of your friends, waving bye to them when they leave to continue, Ashley making sure that you've got candy on you before she's gone. You have one final singer that you'd like to see before you leave the event. You're glad you live close to the venue. You could probably walk back or uber if you were really desperate. Though, you wonder just how long the EMT are staying.
You find yourself mixed into the crowd as you wait, jumping when your favorite artist finally appears, cheering with everyone else. You don't blame the rest of them for retiring early. You're the only one who listens to this artist anyway. The setlist has you jumping, cheering at the live vocals, yelling your heart out with the lyrics, and when the set finishes, the sun's almost down. It'd be smart of you to head out at this point.
You make a turn to head back, popping the caramel in your mouth, stopping in your tracks when a man blocks your way.
"Where ya off to, sweetheart?"
"...Oh, you know." You smile, nodding to excuse yourself.
"Need a ride home?"
"Truly, it's alright—"
"I insist."
You wrack your brain for a solution, yelping when you feel hands on your waist instead, pulling you backwards. Your back is flush against someone's chest, smile on his lips as you blink. Sure hope it's not some other creep.
"Hey, you good bro? Had one too many to drink? I suggest the EMT tent."
You let out a sigh in relief, watching as the guy notices the uniform and scrambles.
"Thank you." You turn around, smile on your lips as Leon nods.
"You're just too lovely, sugar. Gotta keep those flies off of ya." He nods. "You feeling alright?"
You nod.
"Gone all quiet on me?" He tilts his head. "Alright, up you go."
You yelp as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you out of the crowd. He presses his forehead to yours to check your temperature, looking to the side when you don't react at all.
"You good?"
"I'm fine, Leon. You didn't need to." You let him take your vitals, the tent practically empty now that the concert was finishing up. His coworker nods at him and heads out, and leaves you with Leon. That's gotta be illegal in some way. There is no way a law is not being broken right there. Aren't they both supposed to get off at the same time? Is that?? legal? Is their shift over?
"You seem fine." He kneels at your chair, fingers on your wrist as he takes your heartbeat. "Heart's a little fast, though."
"Yeah?" You mumble. You're sure you look embarrassed beyond belief right now, so you opt for sucking on the caramel in your mouth.
You're not surprised he takes notice. "Actually, I think my head's spinning just a little. Must be the lack of sugar. You got any on you?"
"Well, I kind of ate my last one..." You mumble, sticking your tongue out with the candy.
"I don't mind."
"Yeah?" You suck on the candy.
"Of course not, sugar." He leans in, tilting his head. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, who am I to say no?"
You let him kiss you, tongue with the caramel offered to him, sugar on your lips and his from it, though you would argue that the only reason the candy seemed to taste so good was because of him. You tilt your head to angle better, Leon's hands finding yours on the chair, pushing himself to you with a hum in his throat, tongue in your mouth as he steals the caramel from you. You don't mind. You might've just tasted a slice of heaven of your own.
You pant, tongue stuck out and mouth open as Leon shows you the candy on his tongue, smiling.
"You got a ride home, sugar?"
"You gonna kidnap me?" You raise a brow, licking your lips for whatever remnant of him is left on you.
"Not with this pretty lady, no." He smiles.
"Breaking work protocol again, I see."
"I'm off duty." He glances to the side as the new shift arrives, and Leon offers a hand to help you up. "Don't worry, sugar, you can pass out on my car. I've got all the candy you could want."
"Hm..." You tap your chin, taking his hand as he pulls you with him, not letting go.
"Hm what?"
"How about we grab brunch sometimes nearby? Just to make sure my sugar levels don't drop from forgetting to eat?" You tilt your head, watching as Leon tilts his head back to you.
"Oh, sugar. You don't even need to ask."
133 notes · View notes
doctorbitchcrxft · 3 days
Text
The Kids Are All Right | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Warnings: recovering from an assault (heed this warning pls my loves), canon gore, canon violence, angst
Word Count: 4773
A/N: Heyyyy.... accidentally posted two at the same time haha. No episode this Saturday as a result; I'm sorry, y'all!! But a little extra treat today!!
Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist
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You and Sam spoke almost twice daily after your heart-to-heart leaving Lincoln. You were incredibly grateful to still have his friendship; even if your phone calls had to be carefully maneuvered around times when Dean was in the room. 
You were unsure how to feel about the fact that Sam was still trying to find ways to break Dean’s deal knowing he’d die if that happened but would also support your friend in whatever his decision was. You refused to have any involvement in picking between the lives of the two brothers, though, even if you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day. 
Just the thought of seeing him again was enough to have butterflies swirling in your stomach. You were terrified of what he’d say to you, yes, but you missed him so dearly. As chaotic as he could be at times, he truly was your rock. And with each day that passed, the sore pang in your heart at the thought of him seemed to intensify.
Not to mention, your struggle with your assault was draining you. Your heart hurt every time you walked past a mirror, and every once in a while, you’d see yourself in that guard uniform.
“Where are you guys?” you asked Sam through the phone as you walked around your motel room pulling clothes on.
“Cicero, Indiana,” Sam replied.
Your heart and stomach dropped. “What?”
“No way you’re here, too,” Sam began to laugh.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Sam! I purposefully picked a case that seemed like it wouldn’t pan out to stay away from him!” you replied frantically. “I mean, ‘guy falls on his own power saw’ doesn’t exactly scream unsolved mysteries!”
Sam was still laughing, but cleared his throat before talking again. “Yeah, but Dean’s cruisin’ for a hookup, too. That’s his main motivation, I think.”
You scoffed and ignored the burning feeling in your chest. “Of course, he is. Who is it this time?”
“Lisa Braeden. His… five day road trip from about eight years ago,” Sam explained. 
“Oh,” you breathed out. “Gumby girl.”
“So you know of her,” Sam said.
“Oh, yeah! After one of the first times we had sex, he told me I gave Gumby Girl a run for her money. ‘Best sex of my life before you’ is a direct quote,” you told him.
“Okay, ew,” Sam grimaced. “I don’t need to hear about your sex life—”
“It was topically relevant, Sam!”
“—and this is apparently one of his ‘dying wishes’.” 
“Way to let me down easy, jackass,” you sassed at the brunet’s clear inability to read the room in this situation. 
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
“It’s fine. I’ll leave. Let Dean have his fun,” you continued.
“No, don’t!” Sam begged. “At least stay till tomorrow so we can meet for coffee. I’m sure Dean ‘ll still be out with Gumby.”
“We should probably call that poor woman by her actual name,” you giggled. “But sure. I’ll stay till then.”
“Great!” You could practically hear Sam grinning on the other end of the phone. “I’ll call you when I get up tomorrow.”
“Okay,” you smiled. “Bye, Sammy.”
***
Someone pounding on your door at around one in the morning woke you up with a start. Swiftly, you put the barrel of your gun to the door and listened because there was no peephole for you to look through. You opened the door a crack when you heard nothing for a moment to reveal Dean staring at the ground before looking up at you.
Shocked, you slammed the door in his face and threw your gun at your bed. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to lock the door behind you, and Dean waltzed into your bedroom.
“(Y/N), you can’t leave,” the man told you.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Dean? How did you even find me?!” you cried. “What, you think after three weeks of not talking I’m just gonna let you— Especially after you just fucked Gumby Girl—!” You began pacing around the room.
“I didn’t fuck Gumby Girl, (Y/N),” he said softly, still standing close to the door.
You scoffed and crossed your arms, suddenly very aware of the underwear and oversized band t-shirt you wore to bed that night. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” he replied, still staring at the ground. His hands stayed in his leather jacket pockets. “Couldn’t bring myself to even try.”
You threw your arms out in frustration. “What, am I supposed to forgive you for not fucking one out of the many Sam’s been telling me about you being with since I left?!”
Dean seemed stunned.
“Yeah! So, I’m sorry, but you’re not just gonna waltz in here and act like everything’s fine and dandy,” you chortled coldly.
“Are you gonna give me a chance to explain myself?” he questioned angrily.
“Why should I?” you scoffed.
“Because you love me! I thought that was the whole point!” he argued.
You stared him down, eyebrows drawn together. “Well, you obviously don’t love or respect me enough not to go fuck random girls literal days after I leave.”
“I do!” he shot back. “Would you just fucking listen? I was drinking alone when Sam thought I was with those other chicks.”
You said nothing, still glaring at him.
“I didn’t fuck any of them, (Y/N), ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you!”
Tension hung thick in the air between the two of you, and you looked up at him with dewey eyes. When you couldn’t stand to hold his gaze anymore, you turned away. “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you… say it back? Say anything back?” Your voice broke while you talked. 
“I should’ve,” Dean replied quietly. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left you guys with those demons.”
You felt Dean’s fingers gently graze your arm, and he waited for you to flinch away for a moment. When you didn’t, he reached out and gingerly turned you to face him and held you to his chest. 
You melted into him almost immediately and let all of the emotion you’d been holding back for the past three weeks out. He rested his head on top of yours and just held you there for a minute. 
“I can’t watch you die, Dean,” you told him, still hugging him tightly. “I can’t do it.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “Can you just… stick around till my time is up?” He gently pushed you away from him slightly to turn your eyes up to meet his gaze. “Please? It’s my dying wish.”
You giggled through your tears but nodded. You immediately dove back into his chest. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered. 
“I don’t wanna leave you,” he said, voice beginning to shake. “But I couldn’t let ‘im die, (Y/N). I couldn’t do it.” “I know,” you nodded. 
The two of you stood there holding each other once more until Dean spoke up again. “And, uh… ditto, by the way.”
“What?” you snorted, pulling away from him. 
“What you said… at Bobby’s,” he explained, avoiding your eyes.
“You love me?” you asked, smiling lopsidedly.
Dean just nodded. 
“And you told me just by saying ‘ditto’?” You burst out into laughter at Dean’s attempt at vulnerability. 
Dean went red in the face and turned away. 
“No, no!” you said, immediately quieting down. “It’s just— that was so cute. You’re adorable when you can’t emote properly.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, tilting your chin up to kiss you passionately and effectively silence your laughter. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck immediately; almost like a reflex. 
When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against Dean’s. 
“You know I’m not letting you leave again,” he said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled. 
***
You sat on the bed facing a shirtless Dean who was reclining against the headboard on a pillow while he told you his story from yesterday. He lazily drew circles on your outermost hip with his thumb as he talked. 
“So, I went to her house, right? ‘Cause… y’know. Gumby Girl,” he began sheepishly. “And, uh, turns out, she’s got a son.”
“Jesus, really?” you replied. “I forget most people have kids at our age.”
“See, this is where it gets interesting,” Dean continued. “So I go out to the backyard, and I see this kid, and (Y/N), I’m telling you, he looked just like me. Acted just like me, too. It felt like fuckin’ Freaky Friday.”
“Dean, don’t tell me—”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” he cut you off. “But no. Lisa said he’s not mine.”
“How do you know she’s not lying?” you asked. You finally processed the story Dean was telling you, and realization washed over you in tidal waves. “You could have a child. You might be his father. What the fuck.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” he said. “It’s freakin’ me out, man. But that’s not all.”
“Dean, if this involves a paternity test that names you as a match, I’m gonna start freakin’ out,” you said.
“No, no, it doesn’t. At least, not yet,” he chuckled. 
You glared at him.
He laughed. “Anyway, I think there really is a case here. One of those kids at the party was weird.”
“Yeah, Dean, kids are weird. Any other earth-shattering news I should be aware of?” you snorted.
Dean deadpanned at you. “You know what I mean. She wasn’t standin’ all the way upright—”
“Maybe she just has scoliosis—” you cut in.
Dean kept talking over you. “—And she kept glaring at everybody—”
“—I glare at everybody—” you continued.
“—And it’s the kid whose dad fell on the power saw.”
You considered for a moment. “Okay, maybe there is something happening. But it could also just be how her grief is manifesting.”
“Yeah, but (Y/N), all kinds of freaky accidents have been happening all over the neighborhood,” Dean explained further. “People fallin’ off ladders, drowning in hot tubs—”
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” you sighed.
“What’s your hold-up with all this?” he asked.
“Whaddya think, Dean,” you deadpanned.
“What, Lisa?” He seemed genuinely shocked. 
“I just think we should leave this town in our rearview mirror. Y’know, between Gumby Girl and her kid that’s potentially yours— oh, god,” you muttered when you fully realized Dean might have a son.
“(Y/N), he’s probably not mine. I mean, she said he wasn’t,” Dean reminded you.
“Somehow, that’s not making me feel better,” you grumbled. 
Dean pulled you down toward him and gently kissed your lips.
“Dean—” you tried, but he cut you off with another kiss. “Dean—” and he kissed you again, “—you can’t just—” another kiss, “distract me with this stuff—” another kiss, “—when we’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”
Dean kissed you once more and pulled you to straddle his hips. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately,” you smiled against his lips.
When Dean tried to grind up into you, though, you suddenly jerked back from him. 
He looked up at you in concern. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head, tears swimming in your eyes. “I— I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s—”
“It’s okay,” Dean assured you. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s alright.”
You laid down on Dean’s chest, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. Dean kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. Oh, how grateful you were to know him.
***
Later that day, you and Dean walked back to the Impala after investigating a few of the houses where accidents had happened recently. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; no cold spots, no EMF, nothing resembling a creature’s lair. It was all very “Stepford” in Dean’s opinion.
When you’d almost reached the car, Dean abruptly grabbed your arm. You gasped slightly and turned to face the direction he was. 
“That’s him,” Dean whispered. “That’s the kid.”
You looked ahead at a little boy with spiky brown hair wearing a canvas jacket sitting sadly on a park bench. 
Dean slid his hand down your arm to your hand and pulled you along with him. “Hey, Ben,” he told the kid.
The boy looked up at Dean. “Hey. You were at my party.” Ben seemed to notice you for the first time. “ ‘Sup?” the little guy nodded at you, attempting to smirk through his apparent sadness. 
‘Jesus, this really might be Dean’s kid,’ you thought. 
“I'm Dean, this is (Y/N),” he said, sitting down next to Ben on the bench. You stood next to Dean cautiously. “Everything okay? Something wrong?” Dean asked Ben, who didn’t respond. 
You noticed the empty gaming console case Ben was holding and looked out to the field to see a group of four boys playing with something that looked just about the size to fit the case.
“Is that your game they're playing with?” the older Winchester asked Ben.
The little boy  wouldn’t look at you or Dean. “Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, and now, he won't give it back.”
Dean was immediately ready to beat up eight-year-olds. “Well, you want me to go—”
“No!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s arm. “Don't go over there! Only bitches send a grown-up.”
Dean grinned. “You’re not wrong.”
This whole interaction was completely flooring you; rendering you unable to add anything to the conversation.
“And I am not a bitch,” Ben finished.
Dean pointed to a boy wearing long cargo shorts holding the gaming console. “Is that Humphrey? The one that needs to lay off the burgers?”
The little boy smiled and nodded.
Dean hummed. 
“Dean, what are you—”
He ignored you and turned to Ben to talk to him in a hushed voice. You couldn’t quite hear what Dean was telling him to do, and you were puzzled when Ben got up from the bench and started walking over to the group of boys.
“They’re gonna eat that poor kid alive, dude, what were you thinking?” you chastised him, shoving his shoulder lightly. 
“Just watch,” Dean urged.
Ben turned back around to the two of you, and Dean offered him a thumbs-up and a grin. 
A moment later, Ben turned away from the bullies before whipping back around and kicking the boy holding his game straight between his legs twice.
“Dean, what the fuck,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 
Ben walked back to you and Dean, triumphantly smiling and holding his game. “Thanks! Dude, that was awesome!”
Suddenly, a gorgeous woman stormed up to you, Dean, and Ben. “Benjamin Isaac Braeden! What has gotten into you?!”
“Gumby Girl,” you realized. 
Dean smacked your thigh lightly to get you to be quiet.
“He stole my game!” Ben tried to explain.
“So you kick him? Since when is—” she looked down at Dean and scoffed. “Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?”
“What?” Dean was still smiling. “Somebody had to teach him how to kick the bully in the nads.”
“Who asked you to teach him anything?” Lisa argued.
“You’re right, he’s sorry,” you said, trying to pull Dean away.
“What are you even still doing here? We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don't know me. And you have no business with my son,” Lisa raged, grabbing Ben’s hand to walk off with him. “Just leave us alone.”
“He will!” you asserted, to both Lisa and Dean. 
Ben broke out of his mother’s grip and ran back to Dean, wrapping his arms around his legs in a tight hug. 
“Thanks,” Ben smiled up at Dean.
Your heart melted and broke at the sight. 
As Ben returned to his mother, you saw three children a few yards beyond them standing in a straight line and turning their heads in tandem. Dean seemed to have noticed, too, and the two of you decided to get out of there as quickly as possible.
When you got into the Impala, you couldn’t say a word. 
Dean looked over at you. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’?” you replied.
“You look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon. C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.
“He really does seem like your kid,” was all you could manage to say.
Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“And, uh, if that does end up being the case—”
“Whoa, what?” Dean cut you off. “Since when am I following up with that?”
You sighed. “I don’t know, Dean, if you are his father, the kid deserves to have you in his life.”
“Sweetheart, the best thing I can do for that kid is get the hell away from him,” Dean replied. “He doesn’t need to be anywhere near me or this life.”
“Why?” you said. “ ‘Cause you think you’d be bad at it? You were great with him today.— y'know, aside from encouraging assault.”
“Yeah, (Y/N), for two seconds,” he said. “Why are you pushing this anyway?”
You paused. “I don’t know, I thought it might just be good for you. Give you an opportunity to live out your last year in peace. Happy.”
Dean’s posture softened, and he said nothing for a moment. “Thanks, but no. I’d take you and huntin’ evil sons of bitches over Middle America any day.” He reached out to you and pulled you to him, placing a kiss to the side of your head. 
***
When you arrived at the boys’ motel room, Sam was at his laptop researching. 
“Somethin’s wrong with the kids in this town,” you told him as you took your jacket off.
Sam replied without looking away from his computer, “Yeah. Tell me about it. So, what do you know about changelings?”
“Evil monster babies?” Dean questioned.
“No, not babies,” you chimed in.
“They're kids,” Dean realized. “Creepy, ‘stare at you like you're lunch’ kids?”
Sam nodded. “There's one at every victim's house.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect,” you mumbled.
“What?” Sam questioned. 
“We got a pile of missing kids being kept in a hole somewhere and a fuckton of changelings we gotta torch. Dean, where’s your kerosene?”
“Already on it,” he said, leaving the room.
“So, I’m guessing you talked things out,” Sam said once the door closed behind Dean.
“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled playfully. 
“So… you’re not leaving?” Sam questioned.
“No. Not yet, anyway,” you said, tone becoming more serious. “I’ll be there to tell him ‘bye,’ but I won’t watch him get dragged to hell. I can’t do that, Sam.”
The younger Winchester paused. “I get it. Hopefully, we won’t have to.”
Dean came back into the room not a moment later holding his torch and grinning.
“You and your gadgets,” you laughed warmly. 
“So, changelings can perfectly mimic children,” Sam began. “According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood.”
“The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?” Dean questioned.
“I wish that were the case,” you said. “Changelings feed on the mom’s synovial fluid. Sam, did you notice any strange bruising on their backs? It’d be just below the base of their neck?”
“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Sam asked you. 
“It’s the typical spot they feed from,” you replied. “On the end of their creepy, face-hugger-from-Alien tongues, they have these little spines that extend through the body to reach all those spaces between the joints. Pretty gnarly injuries.”
“Right,” Sam nodded. “Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks.”
“And then, there's dad and the babysitter,” Dean added, referencing two of the victims.
“Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead,” Sam finished.
“And fire’s the only way to kill ‘em,” you said, nodding at Dean’s torch. “See why I was worried about all this?”
“Yeah,” Dean huffed. “Great.”
“According to lore, they stash the kids underground somewhere,” Sam continued, “I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there.”
“We better start looking,” Dean asserted, seeming to have something on his mind.
“What?” you asked.
He hesitated before answering you with a question. “Any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?”
You nodded.
“We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone,” Dean told you, and you knew he meant Ben.
Dean held your gaze as Sam began to protest. “Well Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time. We—”
“We have to,” Dean stated firmly. 
***
Throughout the drive to Lisa’s house, you tried your best to remain calm. You weren’t truly worried about the potential that Ben could’ve been kidnapped or by the fact that Dean was upset, it was the thought of Lisa and Ben potentially taking Dean away from you. You knew your fear was irrational and maybe even a bit toxic, but you still worried that maybe Dean was still attracted to Lisa. Or maybe Dean was Ben’s dad and would be obligated to see and spend time around the two of them. The thought nearly made you throw up while you watched Dean knock on Lisa’s door. 
You saw Lisa yelling at him, and Dean ran back over to the Impala seeming incredibly worried. “They took Ben. He's changed,” Dean explained, hurriedly getting into the car.
“What?! Are you sure?” Sam questioned.
“Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill,” the older brother nodded.
“Blood?” 
“I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are.”
***
Dean drove quickly toward a house under construction with a large mound of red dirt sitting on the lawn outside of it. The exterior of the home was almost finished, and the “For Sale” sign on the lawn was stained partially by the dirt.
“Red dirt,” Sam noted, bending down to inspect the sign. “That's what was on the window.”
“Ah, you take the front,” Dean told Sam. “(Y/N), take the left side; I got the other.”
You nodded and set off, gun and flashlight drawn. You crept around the corners of the house until you came to a set of doors angled down to a cellar. You jumped down into it and found small, empty cages lining the walls.
“What do you think you're doing?” a voice suddenly asked from behind you. 
You looked up at the entrance of the cellar to see a redheaded woman glaring at you. 
“You’re staying here until I can get the police here,” the woman said, pulling out her phone.
“Wait, wait,” you tried. “I’m sorry, I was just looking for a place to stay for the night.”
“Then why do you have a gun?” she hissed.
“Self-defense,” you replied coolly. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go.”
The redhead tsked and shook her head. “I don’t think you will.” She stood from the entrance to the cellar and closed both doors on you.
“Wait, no!” You rushed toward the doors, but it was too late. She had latched them shut by the time you got to them. Immediately, you started banging on the doors and trying to get them open. You turned around to one of the cages and picked it up, hurling it at the closed doors. You tried again and again, using the cage to hit the door, your shoulder to slam into it, and even tried using a piece of wire from the cage to take off the hinges, but nothing worked. Helplessly, you banged on the door and screamed for Sam and Dean.
Suddenly, you began to smell smoke.
‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought, breath quickening with urgency. You slammed your body into the doors as hard as you could manage. 
Across the cellar from you, the flames began to catch the ceiling, creating a gaping hole in the floor for debris and fiery planks of wood to fall through. You slammed into the doors once more, screaming for Dean. 
The smoke in the room began to fill your lungs and forced a cough out of you. You screamed Dean’s name again hoarsely, turning around briefly to see the fire had spread incredibly close to you. If you didn’t get out soon, the whole building would collapse on your head.
“Dean, please!” you screamed. 
Suddenly, you heard the door to the cellar unlatching.
“(Y/N)?!”
“Dean!” you cried.
He threw the doors open and pulled you out of the smoldering building. He quickly checked you over for injuries, cupping the sides of your face. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go!” You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him around to the front of the house, running as fast as your legs would carry you as flames taunted you dangerously close to your face. You ran across the street to where Sam was standing with a crowd of terrified children and Ben. 
“Sam!” you exclaimed. “Everybody okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Sam replied. 
Ben seemed shaken up, but he was trying to comfort the other kids around him. You smiled down at him. Dean was exactly the same way. No matter what was going on in his own head, he always checked on the needs of others first. It was one of the things you loved most about him; he was always showing you what compassion truly looked like. 
***
When the fire department had come and the children— all except for one— had been returned home, you and the boys drove Ben back to Lisa’s house. 
“Ben?!” the woman called, running out of the house. “Baby, are you okay?”
Ben ran to his mom and hugged her. “I'm okay, Mom.”
“Oh, my god,” Lisa sobbed. “What the hell just happened?”
“I'll explain everything if you want me to,” Dean started, “but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is that Ben's safe.”
“Thank you,” Lisa surged forward and hugged Dean. “Thank you.”
Dean seemed hesitant for which you were thankful, but still returned her hug.
Ben turned to head into his house, and Lisa moved to follow. She turned back to Dean apprehensively. “Do you— wanna come inside?” she asked. 
“Uh, no thanks,” Dean replied. “We, uh, gotta hit the road.”
Lisa nodded, deflating slightly. 
“But… you’re a hundred-percent sure Ben’s not mine, right?” Dean asked. 
She nodded and smiled. “You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby.”
“Oh,” Dean replied. “Good.”
“I... I swear you look disappointed,” Lisa noted.
“Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know your life... I mean, this house and a kid…” he trailed off. “It's not my life. Never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh... Anyway, a guy in my situation— you start to think, y’know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”
“I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but,” Lisa began, “he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me.”
Dean nodded and turned back to you and his brother who stood by the car watching silently. “You know, just for the record…” He turned back to Lisa.  “You got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad.”
Lisa smiled at him, as did you, before Dean headed back to the driver’s seat. For once, Sam let you sit in the passenger’s seat, and you popped a Faith No More cassette into the Impala’s built-in player. 
***
A few hours into the drive, Sam had fallen asleep. You and Dean were left holding each other’s hand in silent support; a reassurance the other was there and okay. 
“Did you mean what you said earlier? To Lisa?” you murmured.
“About what?”
“Leaving nothing behind except a car?” you continued.
“Aw, c’mon—” Dean sighed. 
“No, Dean. That’s crap,” you quietly said. “You have a legacy. Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love and compassion. That is who you are. That’s what you’re leaving behind.”
Dean’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression unreadable. He was quite literally the only person to ever confuse your intuitive, watchful eye with his thoughtful, complicated expressions. 
The older Winchester turned his eyes back to the road and brought your entwined hands to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles. 
You reveled in the feeling, knowing the feeling of his lips on your skin in this moment, the pattern of Sam’s breathing steadily in the backseat, and the way his hand felt in yours would be a memory you’d need to hold onto when he was gone. Maybe that way, you’d be able to find peace; knowing that not even death could completely tear Dean away from you. 
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld
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17020 · 17 hours
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TU CORAZÓN ES MÍO — ORQUÍDEAS X WINBRE.
There is absolutely no one like him. All you hear is that young love is nothing more than miserable. With him, though, it's the complete opposite. He is your present and future, going through thick and thin together. Your heart is his, and his heart is yours.
STARRING . . . Ren Kaji, Jo Togame, Toma Hiragi. fem! reader
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DICEN QUE EL AMOR EN SU JUVENTUD
SOLO TERMINA EN DOLOR... featuring REN KAJI
Ren Kaji was tired of hearing the same bullshit that came from every old fart's mouth. That young love isn't meant to last, not one bit. Every second spent together will eventually crumble, and it's best to go your separate ways before life itself sets you apart. Right?
Hell fucking no. Ren Kaji was sure that they must have had shitty, unhappy lives, because there was no way he could imagine life without you.
Sure, things were not always a bed of roses. Kaji knew that he wasn't exactly the best type of person to deal with, so he knew that it could take a bit for him to get used to things. And truth be told, he was glad you were patient.
Relationships weren't his strong suit—hell, you were his first one. His inexperience and his temper made it a wild ride, but you were willing to welcome him with open, loving arms. Your embrace made him forget about everything else: no person, comment, or action could come between the two of you. You were inseparable.
His first date, first kiss, first time, you were present in all. The more Kaji spent his days with you, the more he realized how many idiots he had heard say that this wouldn't last. He was determined to prove them wrong.
And he knew that he was being hasty, the way the velvety box slipped from his fingers many times was enough for the world to know that for the first time, Ren Kaji was anxious.
Fresh out of high school, he bolted through the busy streets. His destination? Your home.
Because after a nasty fight, he knew he had to make things right. He couldn't afford to lose you—not now, not ever.
When you heard a knock on your door, what you saw left you speechless. Your boyfriend was absolutely disheveled, with his hair all over his face, his eyes brimming with tears, and an open velvety box in his hand, revealing a thin band with your birthstone.
"I don't give one shit that we're young, but I want you to know that my heart is yours. This ring's all I have for now. Yn, marry me."
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WHAT DO THEY KNOW?
THEY'RE MISERABLE, BROKEN, AND ALONE... featuring JO TOGAME
It had to be kept a secret. For both your sakes.
Because if the townspeople were to know that Bofurin's most beloved princess was involved with Shishitoren's second in command, frankly, a war was to take place.
It wasn't as if Togame was a complete asshole, but first impressions were always of upmost importance. And Jo Togame had screwed up by being a douche to Bofurin and falling for someone in enemy territory.
He was running out of excuses.
From having to run errands, being too tired and having to head home early, or even having to go to the bathroom and mysteriously spend hours looking for one, Togame always had a little lie up his sleeve in order to sneak out. It got difficult with time as Choji offered to accompany him in his errands, and Sako questioned him on why his lips were swollen, a red tint smeared across them.
"So, who's the lucky gal?"
"Dunno what you're talking about, I drank beet juice, that's all."
"Does beet juice leave your hair messy and give you hives on your neck?"
Togame chuckled as he raised his hands to his head, patting down his hair in an attempt to fix it. "Don't push it. I'll bring her over when I'm ready."
Sako stared at Togame with wide eyes, seemingly unable to process that he had indeed accurately guessed Togame's secret activities. "It's that serious?" he asked, with his raven haired friend humming in return.
"Best thing to ever happen to me. Keep it on the low, will ya? Don't want this spilling out."
Togame’s secret was well kept until a few weeks later, when he found himself inside a popular restaurant which was the borderline between Bofurin and Shishitoren territory.
And technically, he tried his best to be discreet. The restaurant’s popularity had skyrocketed overnight, which essentially meant he was to be more wary. A cap was on his head, with some dark aviator shades covering his eyes. All that hard work for nothing, as his infamous jacket was still draped over his shoulders.
The ‘disguise’ was worth it, though, as a smile grew on your face from how ridiculous he looked. It was a sign that Jo Togame was willing to go above and beyond in order to make you happy, and you were sure to keep that in mind.
“Jo, aren’t those your friends?”
The look on his face was indescribable. He whooshed his hand in the air in an attempt to call a waiter and ask for a check, and ended up drawing more attention to him.
And there they were, Choji Tomiyama and Kota Sako, making a beeline towards his table, wide eyes and shit eating grins plastered on their faces. Choji was the first to speak up, his hand patting the cap on his friend’s head. “What’s with the look, Kame-chan?”
"Is this the girl you told us about? Wait—isn't she—"
"She is" he sighed, "which is why I wanted things to be lowkey."
Sako looked distressed, his hands stuffed inside his pockets. "Do you know what'll be of us if Bofurin was to find out about this?"
Togame simply smiled in return, intertwining his fingers with yours.
"If Bofurin finds out and has a problem, it means they're miserable, broken, and alone. I love Yn, and I'd to through hell and five steps beyond for her."
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A ESTAS CALLES NO VOY A REGRESAR PA NADA
TENGO ALGUIEN QUE ME AMA... featuring TOMA HIRAGI
No matter how many men you met and dated, you never seemed to find yourself comfortable with them. From them being too little or too much, you thought you'd never find the perfect match.
And your best friend Toma Hiragi had the pleasure to hear all about it.
"I mean, the date was horrible!" you exclaimed, running your fingers through your hair. "He spent the whole date on his phone talking to his friends, and when it was time to pay, he expected me to do so! I got so angry I stood up and left him on the spot. Even the waitress supported me!"
Toma sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "And ya went on this blind date because...?"
"Because I want someone who can treat me right, Toma, and so far I've found nothing but assholes."
He loved the way his name rolled so smoothly off your tongue. You were his closest friend, the one he went to for everything. Hearing about your love life mishaps was enough for him to stuff his whole stomach with pills.
"Oh, for fuck's sake..."
"What?"
"Ya know what? Friday. 7pm. Dress nice."
"Why—what for?" you asked, to which Hiragi just facepalmed. "You complain so damn much about assholes, figured I'll just take ya to dinner instead. So, dress nice, and don't make me wait."
As soon as you heard those words, you knew your life was about to change. Because Hiragi doesn't do things for anybody, so for him to ask you to dinner was huge.
It wasn't a one time thing. Each week, you found yourself in various food places and arcades with Hiragi, with his excuse being that 'this was a way for you to shut your trap.' And it worked?
There were no more blind dates, or random hookups. Just Hiragi taking up more and more of your time every day. You couldn't lie to yourself, it felt like heaven.
"Toma, why do you keep taking me places? I don't want you to do it if it's out of pity, y'know. Save your cash."
He shook his head in response, "Save it? I've been waitin' for this since forever ago, ya think I'm gonna waste my chance?"
"What do you mean?"
"My heart's always belonged to ya, stupid. It's about damn time ya know."
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taglist (open, yippee!): @stunie @kaiser1ns @nyxypoo @karasuglazer @littleplantfreak @maruflix @heartkaji
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pinkjoongs · 3 days
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NSFW BELOW - MDNI!!!!!!!
yunho x f!reader
summary: you have a very nice surprise for yuyu after your shower.
genre: smut, slight fluff (?), established relationship. idk it’s just horny
wc: ~950-1000
content and/or warnings: nothing too crazy, kind of domestic?, fingering, implied light overstimulation, cum play if you squint, pet names (baby, slut, princess), dirty talk, reader has a vagina, once again came to me in a vision, may or may not be loosely based on real life, whoops!
likes and reblogs encouraged— thank you for reading!!
NSFW below the cut!!!! — MDNI!!
———
Hopping out of the shower on legs wobblier than a newborn deer, you bid farewell to the shower head after being in there longer than you intended. If you had remembered how strong the water pressure was, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten too lost in the sauce. Cold air slipped in from under the bathroom door, fueling your urgency to move quicker so you could hop into your warm bed.
You made quick work of drying yourself off and mentally patted your own back for bringing pajamas into the bathroom instead of forcing yourself to walk naked through the chilly hallway. Not too much later, you were finally able to throw yourself into bed, landing on top of your boyfriend, who was already half asleep himself.
“Finally,” Yunho huffed, groaning dramatically as he gently rolled you off of him, turning both of you on your sides to spoon you. He was nice and warm, a contrast to the air outside of your shared bed. You couldn’t help but twitch as he wrapped an arm around your torso to pull you closer; if Yunho noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. “You took forever in there.”
“Sorry,” you choked out, your apology punctuated by the sound of you clearing your throat. “I didn’t think I would.”
Warm breath fanned over the back of your neck, while any conversation Yunho was trying to have with you was no longer processing in your brain. Pressing your thighs together proved to be unhelpful since it only made you slightly jumpy and there was no avoiding the trembling in your sore hips from your shower. You had no idea why you were being so shy right now, but after your date with the detachable shower head you felt like you had accidentally fucked yourself dumb.
Yunho drew lazy circles on your tummy with his fingertips, as every fiber in your being kept you from spasming with every inch his finger slid lower. A gasp tore from your throat as the tip of his middle finger crossed the threshold of your sleep shorts, your legs tensing. Your boyfriend paused.
“Do you want me to stop?” Yunho’s voice was soft, hand slowly retreating and his large palm coming to a stop on your tummy.
“No,” your voice was even softer, and you weren’t sure if Yunho heard you at first. “no. Don’t stop.”
Yunho made a noise of satisfaction, pushing his hand back down your shorts and nudging your thighs wider apart. He wasted no time, not even daring to deny you what you clearly want. When his middle finger finally found the very slippery lips of your cunt, you whimpered.
“Oh? What is this?” You couldn’t see Yunho, but you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice upon noticing your lack of underwear. To make things worse, he wasted zero time sliding his finger around, spreading your cum around your swollen clit. “Is this what took you so long, princess?”
What annoyed you the most was that your boyfriend acted like this was the most common occurrence in the world while you twitched in his arms, panting like a bitch in heat.
Yunho scooted back on the bed, rolling you onto your back to lay next to him. You let him manhandle you, one of your hands pulling him closer by the front of his t-shirt. Hoping to close the gap between you two, you tried to crane your neck up for a kiss. The attempt was futile as Yunho snaked his arm under your back, hand hooking around to wrap around your neck, holding you just out of reach from his lips.
“My pretty little slut,” Yunho gave your throat a small squeeze, finally leaning in just close enough that his lips just brushed against yours as he spoke. His middle and ring fingers were relentless now, swiping your clit back and forth at an antagonizing slow pace. You moaned into his mouth, your other hand gripping the forearm of the arm down your bottoms. “Couldn’t even wait till you got to bed, huh? You’re so fucking wet, fuck.”
Full sentences were suddenly out of your skillset as you shivered and jerked at his ministrations, drool beginning to pool at the corners of your mouth. You could swear that your whole pussy was pulsing at this point.
“Yeah, yeah,” nodding feverishly and whining your boyfriend’s name in a tone slightly more desperate than you intended, your hips weakly bucking up into his palm. “P-please, Yunho.”
“How many times did you cum, princess?” Yunho propped himself up on his elbow and readjusted you in his arms. You keened at the way he inserted his fingers to the first knuckle, seemingly playing around in the wetness of your pussy. His hand squeezed your throat just slightly, mimicking the squeeze around his fingers. “I know you can’t have just one. Tight, slutty pussy. My pretty baby.”
“I-“ your breath quickened, only thinking about the feeling of his fingers against your bare cunt. The memory of using the shower head to rip orgasm after orgasm from your body made you moan. Yunho squeezed your throat in warning, this time a bit tighter. “M-more than five.”
In the dim light, you could see and feel his lips curling up into a teasing grin. Yunho pressed a soft kiss to your lips, then the corner of your mouth. He pulled his fingers from your cunt, moving to your clit to rub the swollen nub tight circles and he swore he could see the moment every single thought in your head slipped away.
Yunho giggled at the way you began to paw at the waistband of your shorts, legs desperately spreading wider for him. A warm, toe-curling feeling began to pool in your stomach, a sign of your approaching orgasm.
“Yeah? Think you can give me one more, princess?”
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queenshelby · 2 days
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The Accident (Part One)
Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy
Warning: Accident, Child Birth, Abuse, Religious Themes
Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!
The streets of Dublin buzzed with life. Cars were honking, pedestrians chatting, and the distant sound of laughter echoing against the stone buildings.
As you navigated through the chaos to attend one of your medical appointments that day, your thoughts were cloaked in a heavy fog of fear and regret.
With each bump of the road, you felt the weight of your current situation settling deeper into your chest, an anchor pulling you down.
“Is this all there is to my life?” you muttered under your breath, the question steeped in resignation as you were pregnant again and due to deliver your second child. You had dreamed of freedom, laughter, and love, dreams that now felt like whispers of someone else’s life.
The cityscape blurred as you maneuverer through the crowded streets, a painful reminder of all you had sacrificed.
“What if I run away from all this?” you thought to yourself, but just as quickly as this thought appeared in your mind, fear clutched at your heart. “Was it even possible and, if it was, where would you go?” you questioned yourself. You weren’t even meant to be here, in this country and you had no insurance, no visa, no rights.
Suddenly, a blaring horn sliced through your contemplation.
Bam! The jarring collision jolted you as your car jerked to a halt. "Fuck!" you cursed as you gripped the steering wheel, a wave of pain radiating from your abdomen. A moment of shock enveloped you. You glanced up to see the other driver, a sharp-dressed man with striking blue eyes, scrambling out of his car.
“What the hell were you thinking?” you shouted, pushing the door open and stepping onto the asphalt, your heart racing. Every nerve in your body was tingling with adrenaline and distress.
His voice was raised over the noise of traffic. “I’m sorry! I was—” He ran a hand through his gray-streaked hair, obviously flustered. “I was distracted!”
“Distracted? By what?” you retorted, biting back your anger as the stranger looked down at your swollen stomach, not bothering to answer your question.
“Are you okay?” the stranger asked as he took a step closer, his eyes widening. "We should probably get you to a hospital," he said, seeing how you were at least seven or eight months pregnant. "You need to get checked out," he told you but you shook your head.
"That's not necessary, just give me your insurance details," you snapped, feeling no worse than you did earlier that day.
He hesitated, clearly conflicted. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice softer now, the concern in his eyes apparent. “I will give you my insurance details, but I think you really need to get checked out because you are pregnant," you could hear the tremor in his voice.
“I am fine, but I am also in a rush, so can you just give me your details," you reiterated as frustrations poured out like a dam bursting.
“Please, I—” he began, but you cut him off, the rising pain in your abdomen drawing your focus. A tightening sensation gripped you, radiating outwards like ripples in a pond.
“Shit!” The breath left your lungs as what felt like an actual contraction surged through you. You doubled over slightly, clutching your belly, eyes wide with panic.
The stranger’s demeanor changed instantly. “I will call an ambulance," he announced, but you grasped his wrist and shook your head.
“No!” You spat out, rising back to your full height, anger battling with the pain. “No ambulance," you insisted, your voice strained. “I can’t...fuck," you cursed as, suddenly, you felt a pop inside, a desperate prelude to the reality settling in. You were going into labor—now, and fast.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” His voice was insistent. You caught a glimpse of genuine concern twisting with urgency in those piercing blue eyes.
"I mean I can't!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You have to help me!”
“Help you? How? I’m not—” he stammered, fumbling with his phone, glancing back and forth between you and the device as if it could conjure a solution as he watched your water break, your breaths coming out in labored breaths.
“Just focus, will you?” you snapped, the urgency in your tone stopping him mid-thought. “You hit me! You deal with it!”
"I am calling a fucking ambulance, if you like it or not," he insisted, the panic pushing through as he stepped closer again and guided you towards your car. “You need to stay calm,” he said, trying to exude a confidence he didn't quite feel. “Just breathe with me, okay?”
You snatched your gaze up to meet his and for a brief moment, the emotional chaos unfurled like a ribbon between you; there was fear, pain, and something that echoed with unspoken possibility. You swallowed hard, trying to chase away the rising tide of panic.
“Don’t you dare leave me alone” you started, but another layer of pain sliced through you, cutting off your protest as you watched the stranger call the ambulance.
"Yes, she is defiantly in labor. Corner of O'Connell and Abbey Street. You need to hurry!" he spoke into the phone, his voice steadying with purpose. As he hung up and turned back to you, determination flashed in his eyes.
"It hurts so fucking much," you gasped, gripping the side of your car for support. Your knees felt weak, and the pavement beneath you was cold and unforgiving.
"I know it does." There was a calmness in his voice as he moved closely again, scanning the alley around you. "Can you walk? We should get out of the street."
You nodded slowly, though every step felt like trudging through molasses. The tightness in your abdomen ebbed and flowed, and before you could respond, another wave of pain surged through you.
“Breathe, just breathe. In and out,” he instructed softly, eyes locked onto yours. “I’m Cillian, by the way.”
“Great, now we’re on a first-name basis, huh?” you retorted, but there was a small semblance of humor piercing through the tension.
"I am Y/N," you gasped as he guided you towards a nearby alley, away from the cacophony of the street. The shadows cast by the old buildings felt oddly comforting, a temporary sanctuary from the chaos outside.
"Y/N, listen to me," Cillian said, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "You’re strong. You can do this."
You let out a weak laugh as another contraction rolled through you, shoving down the warmth rising from the connection you felt in those words. "I’ve never been strong," you gasped, clutching your belly. “I’m just… scared.” The truth slipped out, raw and unguarded amidst the chaos.
"Being scared isn't such a bad thing," Cillian replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It just means you're about to do something incredible. Let’s focus on what we can control. Can you tell me what you feel?"
Another wave hit, harder this time, sending a shudder down your spine. "It feels like…I can't explain it," you stuttered, struggling to keep your composure. “Like I need to push," you shook your head, tears threatening to spill over. "I can’t do this here. Not here! Please… I can’t."
He took a deep breath, grounding himself amidst the turmoil. “Y/N, look at me. We don’t have a lot of time. If you need to push, let’s get you in a position that helps.” His voice was calm, but it bore an urgency that broke through your fear.
“What do you know about childbirth?!” you practically yelled as another contraction washed over you, not even sure why you were so mad—perhaps it was instinct, or the result of the situation spiraling out of your control.
“Not much, but I've done this before, about sixteen years ago, when my wife went into labor unexpectedly," he replied, pretending to be confident even in the face of your escalating panic. He was a good actor, that's for sure, and he knew that what you needed the most right now was someone who alluded to calmness.
"Alright, fuck! Let's do this," you gasped as you reached beneath your dress to remove your undergarments and reposition yourself against the cool brick wall of the alley.
Cillian knelt beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. With a few quick breaths, he murmured "push when you need to okay?"
You nodded, and with each contraction, you could feel the reality of what was happening. The walls of the alley faded, and all that existed were the sounds of your heavy breaths and the warmth of Cillian’s encouragement beside you.
“Y/N, you’re doing great,” he said, a note of admiration creeping into his voice. “Just keep breathing. I’m here, okay?”
“Okay…” you gasped, trying to focus on his voice rather than the overwhelming pain. The sharp, twisting sensations rolled through your body, and instinct took over. You pushed.
“Good! Just like that!” Cillian encouraged, eyes fixed on you.
You gritted your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as you bore down, feeling the fire behind the pain intensifying. “Shit! This hurts!” you cried out, the sound echoing off the brick walls.
“I know, I know! Just a bit more, Y/N,” Cillian urged, his hands steadying you as you leaned against the wall, the coolness against your skin somewhat soothing. “This is it! You’re doing it! Keep pushing, you’re almost there!”
The tension in your body coiled tighter as the next wave came crashing in, and with a primal instinct, you pushed again, feeling a surge of energy mingled with agony. A strangled scream tore from your lips.
“Come on! Just a bit more!” Cillian’s voice broke through the chaos, a beacon of hope.
With each push, you could feel the world narrowing down to just you and this moment, this life you were about to bring into the world. Finally, with one last, gut-wrenching effort, the pressure exploded outward.
"I can feel the head I think," Cillian encouraged, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned closer, intense focus etched across his features. “You’re almost there, Y/N!”
You gasped, struggles ebbing into a wild, raw energy that pushed through the exhaustion. “I can’t… I can’t,” you cried out, tears pooling as the sense of impending life overwhelmed you.
“Yes, you can,” he coaxed, unwavering.
With a determined breath, you clutched at the cold brick wall, grounding yourself as the pain peaked again. You pushed. A shout echoed down the alley, raw and primal, fueled by an instinct far deeper than the immediate ache.
Cillian’s hands were there, ready, steady. “That’s it! One more strong push, Y/N!”
This was the moment you had been waiting for, the glimpse of a brighter future despite the past's shadows looming over you.
“Push!” His voice rose with urgency, pushing you along with him.
And then, with a final forceful cry, you pushed once more, feeling the world blur around you. Darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, but you could hear Cillian’s voice, vibrant and reinforcing amid the chaos.
“Breathe, Y/N! Breathe!” he urged, and somehow, that single command kept you anchored.
Suddenly, you felt it: the unmistakable release as your baby slipped into the world. A rush of warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, the pain faded into the background, replaced by a wave of power and wonder.
With a final surge of energy, you felt your daughter’s small body leave yours entirely. A loud wail pierced the alley, sharp and full of life, echoing off the walls like a celebratory shout. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart racing not just with pain but with overwhelming relief.
"You’ve done it!” Cillian exclaimed, his voice breaking as he gently cradled the newborn in his hands. “It’s a girl!”
Your heart swelled as you glanced at the tiny being. Tears streamed down your face, a mix of exhaustion and joy flooding through you.
Without words Cillian took off his jumper and wrapped her up in it, having instantly recognized the importance of warmth. “She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice brimming with awe. You marveled at Cillian in this moment, so focused and competent, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear you knew from the life you were trying to escape.
You then broke out in tears , the full weight of everything crashing over you. “I…I can’t believe I just did that,” you whispered, struggling to catch your breath.
Cillian knelt beside you, cradling the swaddled newborn in his arms. “You did," he said softly, his eyes bright with admiration. “And she seems pretty perfect.”
As you gently touched your daughter’s cheek, a warmth spread through you, a flicker of hope igniting in your heart. “What do I…what do I do now?” you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
“First, let’s get you both some medical attention. I am sure the ambulance is on it's way and they will take you to the hospital." Cillian said but that was not what you were thinking about.
“No hospital,” you said firmly, your heart racing at the thought. It was an instinctive refusal, a protective urge that coursed through your veins.
“Y/N, you need to be checked out,” Cillian replied, his voice a mix of concern and insistence. “You just delivered a baby in an alley. You’re going to need care. For you and her.”
“No hospital,” you repeated but the wail of sirens echoed through the streets already, drawing closer. Relief washed over you despite the circumstances. You turned your gaze back to the baby cradled in Cillian’s arms, her little face turned towards you, tiny fists waving in the air.
“She’s so perfect,” you murmured, awe weaving through your voice.
“She is,” Cillian confirmed, his eyes sparkling with pride. “What are you going to call her?" he asked and you quickly responded.
“Mika.” The name slipped out of your mouth before you fully realized it was the one you had secretly cherished. “Mika… it means ‘new moon ,’” you whispered, hoping that with your second daughter having been born, you would find a way to new beginnings.
Cillian's gaze softened, understanding the significance. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently just as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the mouth of the alley, its lights flashing an urgent dance of red and blue.
“See? Help is here,” Cillian said, glancing up as the paramedics jumped from the vehicle, faces serious but efficient.
You held your breath, part of you hesitant to let go of this moment—the intimacy of the alley, the fragile life cradled between you, and the bond you had formed with this stranger less than an hour ago. But reality swirled around you, heavy and looming.
“Okay,” you conceded, your voice barely a whisper. You took a shaky breath, rejuvenated by a flicker of spirit. “I’ll go with them to get checked out," you told Cillian who seemed instantly please.
“Good,” Cillian said, a small smile breaking through the worry etched on his face.
The paramedics approached, two women with kind but focused expressions, as you shifted from Cillian to their care. One of them knelt beside you, her tone warm and reassuring. “Hi there! You did such an amazing job. Let’s see that little one,” she said, her hands expertly taking Mika into her arms before turning to you, “and let’s make sure you’re feeling alright too.”
Cillian stepped back slightly, allowing the paramedics to assist. “It was nice meeting you Y/N,” he said, the pride and relief in his eyes shining through before he asked the paramedics which hospital they were taking you to.
You glanced up at him, the weight of everything beating hard in your chest. “Thank you, Cillian,” you said softly, ache filling your voice as you realized how much more than just a stranger he had been to you in the chaos. "I couldn't have done it without you," you said and Cillian held your gaze, his blue eyes flickering with an intensity you couldn’t quite understand.
“You did everything, Y/N. I just happened to be there,” he replied, his tone earnest and protective. "I will visit you and Mika at the hospital later if that's okay," he then added, his words filled with genuine concern.
"Really?" you asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over you. It felt strange to have someone who cared, especially after everything you had endured.
"Of course. I want to make sure you both are okay," he nodded, his expression serious.
The paramedic gently placed Mika into your arms, a fresh wave of overwhelming emotion coursing through you as you cradled her. She was so small, so fragile, and full of life. “You’ll be okay, little one,” you whispered, tears brimming again as you gazed down at her while the stranger quietly disappeared from the scene, attending some matters relating the accident as police too arrived and began to take statements from those involved and you wondered whether you would ever see him again.
"It's not every day an Oscar winner delivers your child now, is it?" one of the paramedics said teasingly after Cillian had disappeared and you did not know what she was talking about.
"What do you mean?" you asked she was already helping you into the ambulance with Mika swaddled close to your chest.
“Cillian Murphy? The guy who just helped you deliver your daughter," the paramedic explained, her voice tinged with excitement. “He’s a big deal around here. You're lucky!"
You blinked, momentarily stunned but didn't really care. You haven't watched a movie in years, and you most certainly did not feel lucky about the situation you were in.
Your life was a mess. It was awful and complicated, but as you sat in the ambulance, the warmth of Mika against you felt like the first tender thread pulling you from the darkness.
Tags:
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jihyoruri · 5 hours
Text
❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 QUEEN OF DISASTER kang haerin x reader
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↳ warnings yn is a nmixx member , haerin is insanely infatuated with yn, swearing, fluff, crazy dorm activities
haerin didn’t have many idol friends outside of her own group. she kept to herself most of the time, and honestly, she was fine with that. there was comfort in her peace she didn’t need it to be disrupted.
that was, until kyujin bounced into her life. the girl was a burst of energy, determined to befriend every 2006 liner in the industry, including haerin.
and, as much as haerin hated to admit it, kyujin was hard to resist. her infectious laughter, relentless enthusiasm, and her skill of making haerin feel comfortable chipped away at her guarded walls.
but that didn’t stop haerin from being a bit hesitant when the girl invited her to her dorms.
“I don’t know…” haerin murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor as kyujin groaned in protest. the idea of visiting another group’s dorm felt… odd. it wouldn’t just be kyujin it would be her and six other members, people haerin barely knew.
“come on!” kyujin whined, leaning dramatically against haerin’s arm. “my members are so welcoming. they’re really peaceful,” she added, the blatant lie making haerin raise an eyebrow.
“peaceful?” haerin shot her a knowing look, one that said, you can’t be serious.
“okay okay,” kyujin looked down reluctantly, “okay, fine. maybe not all of them,” she confessed, “but at least yoona unnie is. she’s super chill! you’ll feel comfortable with her, i promise.”
haerin nodded slightly, her mind flicking to sullyoon, who seemed just as quiet and reserved as she was probably the one member she might actually connect with. but something felt off. one name was conspicuously missing from kyujin’s reassurances..
yn.
everyone knew yn.
she was the industry’s darling, a sweetheart with doe eyes and a smile that could light up a room. her voice was soft, soothing even, the kind of voice that made fans melt and left the whole country captivated. she was gentle, exactly the type of person who would put haerin at ease.
she was peaceful with the softest voice to exist, just watching videos of her talking could put people at peace.
so why didn’t kyujin mention her?
haerin let out sigh, looking away from her friends puppy dog eyes, “fine…”
kyujin’s shriek of excitement nearly made her regret it. haerin scrunched her nose playfully, rolling her eyes as kyujin threw her arms around her in a tight hug, already chattering excitedly about the visit. but haerin’s thoughts were elsewhere.
she stayed quiet while kyujin rambled about how excited she was, her mind wandering to the girls beloved member.
she doesn’t know why, kyujin not bringing yn up occupied her mind so much.
I guess you can say the beloved member of nmixx intrigued her.
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“get the hell off of me!”
haerin stood wide eyed next to kyujin, frozen in place in front of the now-closed door to her friend’s dorm
she watched in disbelief as yn shoved bae off the couch, sending the girl tumbling onto the floor.
“now now, yn that’s not even nice.” the older girl groaned from the ground, flashing the pretty girl a teasing look.
“fuck off.”
the funny thing was, this wasn’t even the most chaotic thing happening in kyujin’s “lovely” home.
haewon was belting out a very loud tune in the kitchen while yoona tried her best to help clean up the mess. lily and jiwoo were in the living room, locked in a fierce round of just dance, screaming at each other to “dance harder!”
and yet, despite the madness swirling around her, haerin’s eyes couldn’t leave the industry’s so called sweetheart, who seemed to have quite the temper on her.
“you know you love me,” bae teased, trying to get up from the ground, only to be pushed right back down by yn.
“no, i hate you,” yn snapped, glaring down at her, though her wide, doe like eyes made her look more like a pouting kitten than anything intimidating.
kyujin glanced nervously at haerin, who stared at the chaos before her. “it’s not always like this,” she lied, trying to save face.
haerin shot her a look that screamed, yeah, right.
“i know…” kyujin sighed. “i told them to be on their best behavior. sorry.”
but haerin barely acknowledged her friend’s apology, too transfixed by yn’s little tantrum. the girl had settled back on the couch now, a perfect smile on her face, while bae remained sprawled on the floor, knowing that any attempt to stand would likely result in another push
“so it’s all for show?” haerin whispered, her eyes still glued to yn..
“huh?” kyujin furrowed her brow.
haerin tilted her head toward yn, and kyujin burst into laughter. “no! yn unnie is a complete sweetheart. what you see is what you get, she’s just… well, a bit short-tempered.”
as if yn could sense they were talking about her, she glanced up, her wide eyes locking onto haerin and kyujin. suddenly, her expression softened, and she shot up from the couch.
“oh my, kyujin, why didn’t you say you were back!” yn exclaimed, crossing the room in quick strides. 
“that’s no way to welcome guests!” she turned her attention to haerin, who immediately felt her cheeks grow warm as yn got closer. “how are you? was the drive okay?” yn’s voice was gentle, her words pouring over haerin like a warm breeze. “it’s a bit loud in here, i know, but it gets better, i promise.”
“uh…” haerin tried to respond, but yn cut her off with a quick pat on the head.
“i’ll go tell haewon unnie you’re here. make yourself comfortable, haerin,” yn said, shooting her a playful wink before disappearing into the kitchen.
haerin’s face was burning now, completely caught off guard by yn’s sudden warmth.while kyujin looked at her, “told you, she’s a complete sweetheart, an angry one but sweet nevertheless.”
“uh huh…” haerin barely managed to nod, still completely dazed by yn’s charm.
she had never felt this way before, but one thing was clear she was definitely coming to the nmixx dorms a lot more often.
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haerin wasn’t sure how it happened, but visiting the nmixx dorm had quickly become part of her routine.
at first, it was all about hanging out with kyujin and adjusting to the group’s chaos. but somewhere along the way, her visits shifted focus.
instead of looking forward to catching up with kyujin, she found herself eagerly waiting for the moments when yn would be there quietly watching her from across the room, her eyes following every movement, every smile.
soon enough, her casual drop ins had turned into regular visits. she no longer needed kyujin’s invite. the group had welcomed her, and though kyujin was oblivious, haerin was only showing up for one person.
yn.
there was something about yn her soft demeanor on the surface, contrasted with her fiery personality just beneath. one second she was all sunshine and sweet smiles, and the next, she’d be fiercely ranting about whatever bothered her that day.
haerin found it captivating, the duality of her, the rawness that not many got to see. and somehow, haerin had gotten used to those passionate rants, sitting on the edge of yn’s bed as the girl vented her frustrations about anything and everything.
today was no different.
“i mean, can you believe it?” yn practically shouted, pacing back and forth in her room. her hands were animated, cutting through the air as she spoke. “i’m out here trying my best, and they have the audacity to say that about me?”
haerin sat on yn’s bed, quietly watching her. there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips, she found yn’s fiery passion endearing.
yn's temper was always sparked by the smallest of things, someone’s comment online, a misunderstanding, or the fact that she lost in a game to lily the night before. today, it seemed like it was something she had read online, and yn was spiraling into one of her long, impassioned rants.
“they don’t know a damn thing! who do they think they are? it’s just—ugh! so annoying.” yn threw her hands up in frustration, pacing closer to haerin, her voice laced with indignation.
“and the worst part?” yn paused, finally looking at haerin, her face flushed with emotion. “i shouldn’t even care! but i do, haerin, i do.”
yn let out a frustrated sigh, dropping onto the bed next to her. their shoulders brushed, and yn turned to face her, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and vulnerability. haerin couldn’t help but be drawn in by that intensity, her heart picking up speed as yn ranted on.
before she could stop herself, haerin reached out, her hand gently resting on yn’s arm. “it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “you care because you’re passionate about what you do.”
yn looked at her, the fire in her eyes slowly dimming, replaced with something softer something that made haerin’s breath catch. for a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
then, before she could second-guess it, haerin closed the gap between them, pressing her lips softly against yn’s. it was tentative at first, a quiet exploration, but when yn didn’t pull away—when she kissed back just as eagerly, the kiss deepened. haerin’s hand slid up to cup yn’s cheek, her heart racing as yn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through haerin’s hair.
the moment was electric, full of everything haerin had been holding back for weeks. the fiery passion yn poured into her rants was now flowing through their kiss, both of them caught up in the intensity of the moment.
but just as quickly as it had started, the door to yn’s room swung open with a loud creak, and a voice rang out.
“unnie, have you seen—” kyujin’s words died in her throat as her eyes fell on the scene in front of her. her mouth dropped open in shock.
haerin and yn instantly pulled apart, wide-eyed and breathless, as kyujin stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mixture of confusion and surprise. the room was dead silent, save for the sound of kyujin’s sharp inhale.
“oh my god!” kyujin finally screamed, her voice echoing through the dorm. her hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes still as wide as saucers. “what is happening?!”
without waiting for a response, kyujin let out another yelp and slammed the door shut with a loud bang, leaving haerin and yn alone once again, their hearts pounding in their chests.
for a few moments, neither of them moved, the tension hanging thick in the air. then yn burst into laughter, her giggles light and infectious, her face still flushed from their kiss.
“well, that’s one way to get caught,” yn said between fits of laughter, her eyes sparkling as she turned to face haerin again. “she’s never gonna let you live this down.”
haerin, still slightly dazed, let out a small, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks burning. “yeah… i wasn’t expecting that.”
yn smiled at her, the warmth returning to her expression. “i wasn’t expecting this,” she said softly, her voice taking on a gentler tone. she leaned in, brushing a stray piece of hair away from haerin’s face. “but i’m glad it happened.”
haerin felt her heart flutter at yn’s words, her breath catching in her throat. she hadn’t realized just how badly she had wanted this how much she had wanted yn.
“so,” yn whispered, her lips ghosting over haerin’s once more, “are you gonna come over just to see me from now on?”
haerin grinned, her lips curving up into a smile as she leaned in closer. “ and kyujin, but mainly you.”
before the girls lips could touch once again kyujin’s muffled voice was heard from behind the door, “I’m coming in again! and I better not see any kissing!”
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lidiasloca · 3 days
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more than this (azriel x reader)
summary: after Azriel and reader had a summer together, the last thing Az was expecting was to face her again. (angst).
previous chapter
chapter eight
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆
AZRIEL'S POV
“Do you miss her?”
The question didn’t shock me. It was Cassian who asked, so of course it didn’t surprise me. His eyes silently asked me every time I let him into my apartment—though that wasn’t often.
“For fuck’s sake. You won’t even say a word? A single word?” he asked, exasperated. If my brother was losing his temper, it was only because he’d been trying all day. Well, technically for two whole months. And still, he hadn’t given up. Maybe now he would.
“I’m not in the mood to talk,” you mumbled, just to give him something.
“Yeah, no shit. You haven’t been in the mood to talk for a long time, Az,” he replied, but at least he sounded calmer now. “You can’t go on like this. Your life is waiting for you outside this apartment.” He sighed deeply before adding what I knew would be a low blow. “A life without her.”
I didn’t know what was so different in the air today, but I felt like trying to talk about it. For once, I knew deep down I had to. “I don’t want a life without her.”
“You had a life without her before. And you were just fine.”
Nothing had been fine without her.
I didn’t feel like arguing, so my heart gave my mouth a confession to share. “I want her, but I can’t have her—and that’s my fault.”
“Sometimes what we want isn’t what’s good for us. Maybe she wasn’t the one for you…”
She was not the one for me.
She was not the one for me.
Over the loud thoughts in my mind, I could hear Cassian continue. “Sometimes giving up is the right thing, Az. And you have to—”
“Shut up.”
He met my eyes instantly, alarm and quiet anger in them. “You never let me help you, brother,” he said, defeated.
“You cannot help.”
“You’re not helpless, you—”
“YOU CANNOT HELP ME!” I stood, anger surging through my veins. “You can’t! I HAVE FUCKING LOST MY MATE. MY MATE! AND YOU THINK YOU CAN HELP WITH THAT?!”
And that was that.
Cassian was shocked. “Your mate?” he muttered.
My lack of an answer was enough for him to stand, walk toward me, and say plainly, “I can help you—I will help you because you’re my brother, Az. Because I love you, and I know you deserve your mate. No matter your mistakes, I know you like no one else, and you are a good person. You’re not defined by one mistake, you hear me?”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “How could you help me?”
He looked down thoughtfully. “I have an idea. It’s not great, but it’s an idea.”
Hope sparked inside my heart. “What?” I asked eagerly. But Cassian suddenly turned and started walking toward the door. “Cassian,” I called, but he kept going. “Cassian?!”
Once at the door, he turned. “You won’t like the idea.”
“Then don’t do it.”
“Exactly. I can’t let you stop me from trying.”
“Cassian,” I threatened, watching his hand on the door handle. “Alright,” I gave in, knowing he’d do it anyway. At least I’d rather know. “I’ll let you do it. But tell me. Please.”
“I’m going to talk to Elain.”
And now she was here. Y/N was in front of me, her eyes surprised as if she hadn’t been the one coming to my apartment and knocking on my door. As if she wasn’t the one with the upper hand here, the only one who with one word could ruin my life.
Or save it.
One word is all it takes.
“Can we go to the lake?” is what she says instead, and it makes me think maybe it doesn’t depend on her words, but simply the sound of her voice.
Yes, the melodic sound of her enchanting voice could save me. So the answer comes easily out of my lips. “Yes.”
The familiar path we take to the lake is uncomfortably memorized in my heart, and I guess in hers as well. Every step I take, I’ve taken many times before with her, but it feels like that was in another lifetime.
No one has dared a word yet, and I fear I am not strong enough to start. I know I should, I know there are many unsaid speeches I owe her. But my lips won’t move to my command.
“Elain came,” she states plainly.
It’s plain and short, but I am still grateful the silence is finally broken. I am not so grateful when I realize I have to reply to that. Talking about Elain is not ideal.
“Cassian might have had something to do with that.”
She turns her face to me, giving me a pointed look that I know means no harm. She’s simply analyzing me so she doesn’t have to ask. “No. She came for herself. And for you.”
I regard her back, still walking. “Did she?” I inquire incredulously. I am sure Cassian sparked Elain’s visit, but of course, she would have had a more relevant reason to talk to her.
But doing it partly for me?
The last time I spoke with Elain had been a very rough night. I remember what I said, what Y/N said. The day had been cruel enough, and I ran to the one I had put through an even crueler time. Elain.
“Yes,” she replies, nodding. “She told me about the last time you saw her. That night…” Her voice turns weak at the last bit. I feel weak at the memories her words bring. The wound feels fresh now that she’s near again.
Silence unfolds upon us, helping both of us swim deep into the ocean of pieces of our shared lives.
As if on cue, the lake finally appears in front of us. It is still the same as the last time we swam in it together, as if it were a space created just for us, only to be undisturbed when we weren't there.
I silently ask her with my eyes if she wishes to get closer to it. She gives me an approving nod, so I walk toward it and sit on a large rock by the lake. She sits next to me.
“I’m so sorry.” I turn to her quickly, my eyebrows rising in utter shock.
“What? You don’t have to be sorry about anything,” I mutter too quickly to come out clearly.
“Of course I do. Yes, you do more. But I will always be sorry about what I said to you that night.” She sighs, shifting her gaze away from my eyes. “I wish you could forgive me.”
I open my mouth, even more surprised. “Y/N, of course, I forgive you. Don’t…” I try, but her words, even if I don’t hold them against her, still feel hard to forget. Hard not to let them kill me slowly. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should. I must.” I wait until she looks at me again to go on. She needs to see I mean it. Every bit. “I’m so sorry. What I did to you and Elain was the worst thing I’ve ever done, and I regret it every day. I’m so sorry I betrayed your trust.”
The air feels thick with unspoken emotions—betrayal, disappointment, maybe even love—all mingling in the quiet. At last, she says, “I forgive you, Azriel.”
My mind goes blank with raw confusion and shock, trying to grasp some coherence in her words. She forgives me. I don’t have to ask her why, for she sees the confusion on my face and continues.
“Because I love you.”
What.
“Because I love you still, Azriel. And because you are my mate. And because I know you truly are sorry.”
Hope sparks inside me, quick and strong. And when I let thoughts of the life we could have together take hold, it’s a fire that roars in my heart.
She loves me—maybe, after all, I still had a chance. Perhaps not everything was lost as I thought. Perhaps I had everything right in front of me.
“You love me…” I blurt out in question, because I still need confirmation.
“Yes,” she replies, and if I weren’t already reeling from this, she smiles sweetly. Her smile. Y/N’s smile. It had been so long since I’d seen it bloom on her beautiful face.
The last time had been in this very place. As if reading my thoughts, her eyes travel to the lake in front of us. Her smile deepens, and to my surprise, I smile as well.
There is a burden I’ve thrown away with her words, with the opportunity she’s given to what I thought I had lost.
Her eyes travel through the beauty of the place as she says, “This lake…”
“Yes,” I quietly mutter, because I know what she’s thinking.
She then turns to me, and it’s her eyes that remind me how much I love her. “Do you remember? This lake? Us?”
“I remember everything.”
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-Characters by Sarah J. Maas
HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3
tag list:
@kalulakunundrum @bubybubsters @goradgirl @kennedy-brooke @going-through-shit @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @linoisqt @minakay @nastynesta @lockedinmytower @stargirl1714 @justagingerliving @marvelpotter @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @mis-lil-red@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @e-dollly @emptyporsche @cwallace02sblog@impossibelle @sidthedollface2 @justdreamstars @nyotamalfoy @cryinghotmess @fightmedraco @strangersunghoon @acourtofbatboydreams @snatched-bubblegum-bitch
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fleurrreads · 2 days
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pretty little rich girl
pairings: benny cross x fem!reader
warnings: some unwanted comments, bit of angst, happy ending(?)
author's note: based on this request! honestly don't know how i feel about this one, i might write more for them in the future.
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Benny has seen many girls in his lifetime, but none of them have downright turned his world upside down. Until he met you. It was supposed to be just another night at the bar, until you walked in. All pretty in a little dress, pearls around your neck. You look expensive. Benny's eyes follow you until you sit down, probably with a friend. He steps closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.
You sit down with a huff, "Where did ya bring me, Kathy? Ya hang out 'round here?" You look around wildly at the bikers crowding the little bar. Kathy laughs. "Don't worry, darlin'. They won't do anythin to make you uncomfortable or somethin'. They're good people." Kathy finishes, looking over your shoulder, spotting Benny standing a few metres away. She smirks, "Okay listen, I'm gonna go get us some drinks, you want a pop? I'll get ya a pop." Kathy rambles, before walking off to the bar, leaving you alone. You look around warily, the bikers closest to you looking at each other, then at you, and then laughing among themselves. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. 'Hurry up Kathy' you thought to yourself, and a split second later someone sits down in Kathy's chair. But it's not Kathy.
You look up, seeing the prettiest blue eyes and you nearly gulp. Holy shit you think as you let your eyes travel the stranger up and down. He's gorgeous. The stranger looks in a daze, as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles on full display. Before you say anything, he speaks and you think you could melt right there.
"I'm Benny." he says, his face nearly in a pout. You nearly laugh, the situation being so unorthodox. "I'm y/n. And you're sittin' on my friend's seat." you say, making him throw his hands up in feigned innocence. "Really? I didn't know. My bad, darlin'." He says in a husky voice, his eyes never leaving you.
You smile, "Yeah, but listen I gotta get home, so it was nice meetin' ya, but i gotta get goin'." You stand up, not bothering to look for Kathy, you'd call her later. Unbeknownst to you Benny gets up and follows you outside. As you make your way to the door you hear whistles and calls, making your stomach turn. One comment made you stop in your tracks. "Look at this pretty little rich girl, playin' where she doesn't belong." one of the bikers said, and you frowned.
Yes, you were from a wealthy family, but that doesn't make you just a rich girl. You have ambitions, you have dreams. You can be something other than a rich girl too.
You shake your head, pushing past people as fast as you can, trying to calm the tears that are threatening to spill. As soon as you get outside you take a cigarette from your bag, and sigh. "For fuck sakes. Where's my damn lighter." you grumble, emotions on high. Benny walks up to you, lighter in hand. Without saying anything he brings the light to your face, to your cigarette. "Thanks" you mumble, taking a drag.
You just want to go home. The past hour you've been here has probably taken three years off your lifespan. You sigh, kicking around a rock with your polished shoes. You would be able to enjoy this life, the freedom that comes along with it, if it weren't for people and their stupid comments. You'd finally find a place where you belong. Because it certainly wasn't with the rich kids. They always thought you were weird for having dreams like moving to a farm and building a life for yourself. Or moving to California to surf and working at a surf shop. That's why that guy in the bar's comment frustrated you. If you didn't belong at home, and you didn't belong here, then where do you belong? Benny clears his throat, you jump, forgetting that was there.
"Y'know, they didn't mean it like that. What they said back there. They 'just never seen a girl like you in our bar." he says, as if reading your mind. You scoff, taking another drag from your cigarette. "Yeah whatever, I don't really care. Probably won't see 'em again anyway. But you have a good evenin', Benny. It was delightful meetin' ya." You stomp out your cigarette, walking to the bus stop.
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Benny offers you a ride home, because of course the busses don't run at 2am anymore. So you give him your address. As Benny takes a turn into your street you think of how vastly you differ from him. Him in his dirty leather jacket, his hair unwashed for probably a while, and his grease stained shirt underneath with his leather boots. To you, a girl polished by her parents to embody elegance, even though you were far from it. A white dress, pearls probably worth more than his bike, shoes polished and your hair neatly in a bow. A doll. A doll standing on a dangerous cliff, ready to jump down to whatever world Benny was involved in.
Benny pulls up to your house, and he takes a moment to study your house. A double story house, white picket fence, gorgeous porch running around the house. You were rich. He hears you sigh as you get off the bike, and he blurts out a question. "You wanna go to a meetin' with me tomorrow?" He looks at you, pretty dress now stained from sitting so close to him on the bike. He quite likes it. Him tainting your pretty little life. He can sense that you might like it too. You smile, "Yeah, why not. I don't have anythin' goin' on anyway." you nod, making your way to the white picket fence surrounding your house. You look back at him, his eyes sparkling with something you've never seen before.
"Well goodnight, Benny." you wave, making your way to your door.
"Goodnight, princess." Benny hums, leaning against his bike. Yeah he likes you, a lot. He's not going to let you slip out of his fingers. He's already obsessed with you. His princess.
Six weeks later, you married him.
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reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★
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hannahssimblr · 2 days
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Her shoulders begin to shake with her sobs. “I hate this,” she says. “I hate all this bloody change all at once.”
“I know.”
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Startled, we both look up as the patio door opens. Evie slips out. Perhaps she is looking for me, but she diverts her course and begins collecting the empty plates on the table instead. She goes back into the kitchen. 
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“Fuck sake,” says Jen, swiping at her face like she could shove the tears back where they came from. “Here I am, crying at you, after Evie’s already cried at you, and who knows who else, Jesus Christ.”
“It’s alright. There’s a kind of sad, crying vibe in the air these days.”
She laughs. “Except you, right? You’ve not shed a tear.”
“I’ve cried,” I say mysteriously. “Just not tonight.”
“You will.”
“I don’t think so. To be honest, I’ve been feeling a bit numb in general.”
“Makes sense. I wish I was.”
“No, you don’t.”
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She rests her head on my shoulder. It’s a familiar, specifically Jen kind of action, the feel of that soft, warm cheek through my t-shirt and the smell of her shampoo. This action is one she’s repeated a thousand times before, like when we watch a film, or when she’s tired, or sad, or wants to talk about her day, or read a book with me and comment on it without context. I know it will be the last time for a while. 
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“I’ll miss you,” she says. “I think I’m going to miss all of this time in my life when it’s gone.”
“Nah, things will get better than this. Don’t hold these years up as the best you’ll ever have. That’s depressing.”
“Do you think we’ll romanticise our teens some time in the future? Whether we’ll think about how young and gorgeous we were, all the fun we had, and give absolutely anything to get it back?”
I chuckle. “No. I’ve hated this mess. There’s barely anything I’d like to preserve.”
“Except me.”
“Yeah, except you, exactly as you are. Obviously. I’d keep you in a glass jar if I could and take you all over the world in my bag.”
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Evie crosses the kitchen window with another handful of bowls, and we both watch her slot them neatly into the dishwasher. “And her,” says Jen. “You’d keep her too.”
“Jen.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Of course not.”
“I think that if you had half a brain, you would.”
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It’s true. This girl that I watch through the window, with whom I spent just a summer, has trusted me with her dreams. Those whispered to me in a parked, idling car. Her secrets, she revealed as we lay on the grass under a canopy of blossoming trees. There are parts of me only she has seen. I know that if the timing were different, and a girl like this would have me, I would build my world around her, but we’re too young, and by the time I met her, it was already much too late.
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She flits around the kitchen until she’s cleared away the last dish, and then with idle hands, for one moment, she stands and stares out the window. I know she is looking for me, and won’t see me in the dark, yet I feel like there’s a frisson between us. It’s striking and strange. It’s some sort of knowing. We are watching one another with a stillness, like two animals of the same species spotting one another in the wild. 
Then she turns and is swallowed up by the darkened hallway behind her. 
Beginning // Prev // Next
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saiintofdiirt · 1 day
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Summary: Ken walks into the aftermath of Parrot finding out Wifies is actually a clone. He should be given sainthood for how little he kills Parrot.
notes: this is so not edited lol i wrote this in like. 3 hours between tasks at work. rip. this is vaguely set in the most recent UU episode in that i needed a setting and also a reason for ken wifies and parrot to be in the same place at once. no spoilers for the episode its just alluded to being the setting. uhhhh. i think thats it. enjoy.
word count for the curious: 2678. allegedly.
~~~~
Ken arrives in the meeting room with a hop in his step. He’s been looking for Wifies everywhere, but Dean let him know that Wifies was talking with Parrot, and now Ken can finally show him the little tricky trap he’s been working on! He’s proud of himself. It’s a really good design! So he’s hopping into the room like a rabbit instead of a cat.
Parrot stands alone at the head of the table, back to the door. Just Parrot.
Bleh.
“Yo,” Ken greets even though he still feels the urge to whack Parrot across the head occasionally. “I thought Wifies was here?”
“Did you know?” Parrot asks.
Ken can feel every single part of his body prickle with discomfort. He’s glad that Parrot isn’t looking at him, so he has a chance to lower his shoulders, and tail, and ears. And attitude. He knows, somehow, what exactly Parrot means by knowing. Ken shuts the door silently.
“Know what?” Ken asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t play dumb Ken. Did you know about Wifies being a clone?”
Ken breathes in slowly. He pulls his comm out and checks the playerlist. Wifies is gone. He was here only a few minutes ago when Ken last checked, which means that whatever happened, just happened.
“Did he tell you that?” Ken asks, opening Wifies’s chat.
[_Kenadian_]: where are you?
“You know, I was so confused,” Parrot turns around, eyes distant and face blank. “When I first met him, he was such a fucking asshole. Entirely full of himself. Still the smartest guy I’d ever met, though, so when all this stuff started happening on the server, I couldn’t help but think of him. I thought I was gonna regret inviting him, yet he was so quiet and nice now.”
[_Kenadian_]: wifies
[_Kenadian_]: seriously where are you
“He was always reserved, even before, but all these little things started coming up— he couldn’t remember things well, he’d talk about weird things in his sleep, things like that. And I couldn’t even. . . I didn’t know how to piece it together, and he wouldn’t talk to me!”
[_Kenadian_]: wato
[Wato1876]: Hey!
[_Kenadian_]: have you heard from wifies
[Wato1876]: No?
[Wato1876]: Isn’t he on unstable w/ you right now?
[_Kenadian_]: he left and isnt answering my messages
[_Kenadian_]: parrot found out, idk how, and now wifies is /gone/
[Wato1876]: ok I’ll check around for him
[_Kenadian_]: thx
“Are you even listening?” Parrot asks, and Ken finally looks up at him. His expression is one of desperation. It disgusts Ken.
“No,” Ken says, voice bone dry. “You yelled at him didn’t you? God Parrot, and I was just starting to respect you.”
“He lied to me this whole time!” Parrot explodes, eyes wild as he leans his hand on the table. “From the start, he hid this from me, and I only found out by— by sheer coincidence! He was talking to someone on his comm, and said something about being a clone, and I just—”
“Wait, who was he talking to?” Ken interrupts with a frown.
“I— I don’t know, they had a deep voice, talked really particularly?”
“Must’ve been Retro. . . Retro knows?” Ken mutters to himself.
The shame Wifies stews in every day because of his clone status is something Ken hasn’t been able to push past; Wifies always says he owes his life to Ken, but rarely does he bother to share his burdens with him either. Which means at least Retro seems to be getting through to him. . . It stings a little, but Ken has bigger fish to fry.
“So you did know!”
“Parrot, why do you care!” Ken snaps, turning back to his comm and searching for Retro’s contact information. Shit. He should’ve nabbed it off of Wifies earlier. “You drove him off! He’s not your fucking problem now, shouldn’t you be happy?! There! You cleaned your friends list of liars! Aren’t you satisfied with your work?!”
“I just wanted to know the truth, I didn’t want to drive him off! He's not a problem to get rid of!”
“Well great fucking job, man, go kick rocks or something. Fuck, where did he go?!”
[Wato1876]: Found him. He’s at the factory.
[Wato1876]: Ken, his comm is cracked right in half. He’s stuck here again.
Ken feels everything in him rear like a lion. He closes his comm and tucks it into his pocket. Slowly, oh so slowly, he stalks around the table towards Parrot, holding the hilt of his sword in a loose grip. Parrot follows his path with his eyes, feathers puffing out and fists clenched.
“Did you break his comm, Parrot?” Ken asks casually.
“No,” Parrot replies.
“Parrot. Tell me the truth. Did you break Wifies’s comm? Even by mistake?” Ken’s gums ache. He’ll dig his teeth into Parrot’s thin throat. He’ll rip his flimsy little esophagus out.
“No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know if you wouldn’t, Parrot, but I swear to everything you hold dear, if I find out it was you who broke his comm, you are going to wish I had just killed you instead,” Ken hisses out.
“His comm is broken?” Parrot echoes faintly, and it’s like gravity returns to his world, his feet landing back in reality.
“I don’t think you deserve an answer, Parrot, but yes.”
Ken tries to breathe through his anger. He’s going to believe Parrot for now.
[_Kenadian_]: ill be there soon
[Wato1876]: Bring a replacement comm?
“I was mad,” Parrot sounds wretched. “But not— I don’t care that he’s a clone Ken. I just felt like he didn’t trust me.”
Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder.
“I never trusted you, Parrot, not once, not for a single moment, but you made Wifies happy. I don’t know what he sees in you, but he was happy playing second fiddle to your stupid little orchestra on here, y’know? So I tried very hard to get along with you, so Wifies could stay happy,” Ken lets go of the hilt of his sword to press a sharp nail into Parrot’s chest. “You don’t understand the state I found him in before he came here, before you roped him into your stupid little games. He—”
Ken’s voice cracks and he curses, indistinct and abstract. He hates this. Leave it to Parrot to fuck everything up, just like Ken always knew he would with his lack of foresight and planning and brain. Parrot snaps up to grab Ken’s hand in a tight grip.
“Ken, I didn’t want him to leave me,” Parrot chokes out. “I just wanted to know, I just—”
“And look at where your wanting got him!” Ken spits out, yanking his hand away. “You want, and want, and want, Parrot do you even care what your wanting costs the rest of the world? What it costs Wifies?”
“He never says anything to me, he never—”
“Do you ever ask?! God Parrot, get out of your head for a minute!”
Ken runs a hand through his hair. Where is he gonna find a replacement comm? He might have something in one of the prison servers he frequents, but his head is scrambled, he can’t quite sort through his inventory in his head to figure out what he has right now. He may have one in his escape kits. . .
“Ken,” Parrot breathes. He finally realized what he’s done, it seems. Ken wants to stab him in the stomach. “Ken, I care about Wifies more than anyone else. You know that right? He knows that right?”
Ken pulls at his roots.
“I don’t know anything about Wifies right now,” Ken finally says, exhaustion creeping into him as his adrenaline runs dry. “I can’t contact him right now. He gets. . . bad, when it comes to the clone stuff. God, Parrot, what the hell have you done?”
Ken doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves the server and lands in his solo world, scrambling around his storage before finding a dusty old comm he hasn’t used since he customized his current one. Landing near the factory is always a displeasure, but he pushes his feelings aside and enters. It takes a little searching, but he finds Wifies and Wato in the office, laid out on the floor next to each other.
“Wifies,” Ken says, more to say something than having anything to say, and he sits next to Wifies.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Wifies says. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are bloodshot. “My comm broke. I dropped it while it was open, and I fell on it.”
“I brought you an old one I had laying around,” Ken says, bringing a hand up and running his fingers through Wifies’s curls slowly. Wifies closes his eyes. “What happened?”
Wifies doesn’t answer at first, just breathes evenly and relaxes each part of his body. He's so tense. Ken wishes he had killed Parrot.
“Parrot found out,” Wifies whispers. “I was talking to Retro. He’s been. . . helping me decipher some stuff from the notes. It was important. And I called him, and Parrot heard, and he was livid. That I hadn’t told him. That he couldn’t trust me. So I left.”
“He’s an asshole,” Wato says, and both Wifies and Ken turn to look at him in shock. “What?”
“Wato, there’s a reason why we’re such good friends,” Ken says with a grin. “Because I, too, believe Parrot is an absolute asshole.”
“You guys always knew, but I lied to him,” Wifies says. “I don’t know if he’s an asshole for being upset I didn’t tell him.”
“Yes he is,” Ken and Wato say together.
“There’s no reason to defend him out here,” Ken scolds, scratching Wifies’s scalp lightly.
“I don’t hate him, Ken,” Wifies lets out a deep, winding sigh before sitting up slowly. “Can I have the comm? I need to message Retro. Tell him everything’s okay.”
“Fine.”
Ken hands over the comm and Wifies thanks him faintly. As he boots it up and logs in, Wato sits up and gives Ken a look. Ken returns the look. Before they can descend upon Wifies and force him to talk about his feelings, the comm begins pinging wildly, messages flooding in and not stopping. Peeking over Wifies’s shoulder, Ken makes a disgusted expression at Parrot’s chat being at the top of Wifies’s DMs. Parrot is absolutely spamming Wifies’s inbox. Ken’s going to eat him for dinner.
“Ah,” Wifies says. He then proceeds to ignore Parrot to text Retro. Good. Fuck that guy.
“What does he want?” Ken asks, not because he really cares but because if Parrot pisses him off again, he can justify going at him with an axe.
“Maybe. . . Maybe not right now,” Wifies’s voice is weak.
The messages roll to a stop. Good! And then Ken’s comm starts ringing off like shots. Goddamn it. Ken pulls out his comm. It is Parrot. Awful. Now Wifies and Wato move to peek over his shoulder as his inbox becomes utterly unusable.
[Parrotx2]: Ken
[Parrotx2]: I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: not to you
[Parrotx2]: well I can be sorry to you too but I’m sorry that I reacted like that to Wifies
[Parrotx2]: and I just need him to know that I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and I know you hate my guts
[Parrotx2]: but you said he was happy right? I made him happy
[Parrotx2]: I don’t think I’ve ever made someone happy by just existing
[Parrotx2]: cause fuck, it’s not like I’ve done anything for him
[Parrotx2]: Ken what the fuck did I do
[Parrotx2]: please just let him know I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and that I didn’t mean to blow up
[Parrotx2]: you’d think I’d be used to betrayal but with him, it felt so much worse than betrayal
[Parrotx2]: like I had failed to be trustworthy
[Parrotx2]: the reveal was a lot, but I felt more hurt than disgusted or scared
[Parrotx2]: I don’t care if he’s a clone
[Parrotx2]: I mean I care if he wants me to care. I want him to want me to care about him.
[Parrotx2]: I care about him in general
[Parrotx2]: plus whoever the guy before him was was a bitch
[Parrotx2]: he’s like so much better in a million ways
[Parrotx2]: not the point
[Parrotx2]: the point is my caring of him is not reliant on his clone status
[Parrotx2]: I can tell he’s got a comm now cause my messages are showing up as received
[Parrotx2]: does he hate me now?
[Parrotx2]: he has every right
[Parrotx2]: I can’t even pretend that he shouldn’t hate me
[Parrotx2]: Ken I don’t want him to hate me
[Parrotx2]: I don’t know if I can live with that
[Parrotx2]: I fucked up so badly
[Parrotx2]: the worst part is I trust him
[Parrotx2]: I made this whole fuss about trust and I still trust him
[Parrotx2]: of course I do, he’s the single most trustworthy person I’ve ever met
[Parrotx2]: I’ve slept in the same room as him for months and I never even worried
[Parrotx2]: he could’ve left or betrayed me or killed me literally at any point
[Parrotx2]: and he never did! even if it would’ve made his life easier
[Parrotx2]: what the fuck was I thinking?
“Ugh. Do you wanna talk to him right now?” Ken asks, turning his head towards Wifies. He gets a face full of sweet smelling curly hair.
“. . . I don’t know,” Wifies says, resting his chin snuggly onto Ken’s shoulder.
[_Kenadian_]: can you shut up. jesus.
[Parrotx2]: sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yes he has a comm now
[_Kenadian_]: he’ll talk to you when he talks to you
[_Kenadian_]: you made him cry yknow
“Ken!” Wifies hisses, cheek warming up where it’s now pressed to the side of Ken’s throat. “Why did you tell him that?”
[Parrotx2]: fuck I’m sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yeah he knows
[_Kenadian_]: just
[_Kenadian_]: give him some space
[_Kenadian_]: also dont text me like that whats wrong with you
[_Kenadian_]: i want you so dead its not even funny
[_Kenadian_]: this is the SECOND time you make him cry
“Ken!!”
[Parrotx2]: I
[Parrotx2]: what?
[_Kenadian_]: wouldnt you like to know bird boy
[Parrotx2]: why would you tell me that
[_Kenadian_]: you need to understand the consequences of what you do
[_Kenadian_]: wifies never lets you see but i do and i think you should writhe
[_Kenadian_]: you care so much? lets see.
[_Kenadian_]: writhe bird boy writhe
“That’s mean,” Wifies says as Ken closes his comm, but he doesn’t move a single muscle.
“You should’ve made it worse,” Wato says. “Should’ve told him Wifies was comatose or something.”
“Jeez, since when are you so vicious?” Wifies asks, but Ken is almost certain he and Wato are holding hands behind Ken’s back.
“I approve,” Ken says, bumping his head into Wato’s lightly. “Anyway, take as long as you want to ignore Parrot. Forever, even. I’d also approve of forever.”
Wato hums in agreement. Wifies sighs again, much lighter than before.
“Just a little while,” he says to Ken’s vast displeasure. “Just until I can stomach it. I shouldn’t have run away.”
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, actually. Forever.”
Wifies giggles, and Ken finally feels himself relax a little. If Wifies is laughing, then it’ll be okay. He still feels anger pulsing within him like a second heartbeat, but it softens when Wifies bumps the top of his head into Ken's cheek. Not gone, never gone, but quietened enough to let Wifies speak for himself.
Ken trusts Wifies despite his own opinion. So he'll keep true and hold Wifies close no matter what.
“We still gotta talk about your feelings,” Wato says, and Wifies whines, trying to hide his face further into Ken's shoulder. 
“It's so embarrassing,” he murmurs.
“I'd be embarrassed too if I cried over Parrot of all people,” Ken deadpans. 
Wifies groans. Ken won't let him get away this time.
37 notes · View notes
sjywrites · 2 days
Note
Hii can I request Sophia x reader academic rivals? 🥺 u can do whatever u want w the plot pretty much please and thank u so much <3 :)
༊*·˚ ACADEMIC RIVALS LOVERS?
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𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza x 𝓖n!reader. (no pronouns used). 𝓖enre. fluff, angst if you squint 𝓢ypnosis. our two favourite academic rivals have a lil fight, but the situation turns bad, and people realize their feelings. 𝓦𝓒 . 824 𝓒𝓦 . mentions of being hospitalised (sophia), a little angsty!
𝓝ote! this is a little messy since I wrote it during one of my breaks, but please lmk if you want like a part two cuz I really liked this plot!
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This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!
,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷
At this point it didn’t even matter if you were better than everyone, you just had to be better than her. It started off very simple, both of you wanted to be better than everyone, academically that is. Eagerly waiting to get tests back and see who got a higher score, a smug grin on one's face when they got a better result than the other. No harm in that right? Wrong, that’s what started all of this.
Sophia walked towards me with her head held high, her uniform as neat as ever and her hair styled in a way making her look almost angelic. Wait, what? “What were your results?” She said, slamming her paper on top of my desk, I shook out of my daydreaming to answer her. “96.” I said while looking down in my maths book, trying to solve an equation but still focusing on what she would respond. She looks away and a teasing smirk spreads on her lips, and moves the finger that covered her results, 97. “Guess I’m just better than you huh?” She said proudly, staring down at me “Just because you got one point more than me doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” I said, pouting a little at her accusation.
Lately I’ve been feeling kind of… weird? Even if Sophia gets a higher score than me, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. “Well, you’ve been slacking off a lot lately, I’ve gotten higher scores than you on the last four tests. So, I think that makes it obvious who's smarter!” Sophia states like it was the most obvious answer to what I said. Staring at her for a moment, I reply. “I've been busy okay, not everyone has that much free time to spend on studying, and you're talented in general, no wonder you get high scores” She looks shocked at my statement, then she smirks a little, “Did you just admit that I'm smart?” She looked proud in some way or another, “Not what I meant Sophia, but whatever floats your boat.” I grab my things from the desk and walk outside the classroom to my locker, a little frustrated at the whole situation. I did miss her response,
“I study that much so you won't think I'm stupid.”
A week goes by, no Sophia in sight. She missed two assignments, she's usually here every day. Even if she's sick, which I don't get why she does, but still. Did something happen to her? Was it something I did?
“You've been zoning out for the past like, three periods, what is going on with you today?” Lara, my best friend asks. “Do you know where Sophia is?” I ask, not really thinking before I ask. “Why do you want to know, don't you guys like, hate each other?” She looks at me with a very questionable look, suspecting something I cannot grasp, “Yes? No? I don't know Lara, but do you know where she is?” I say, a little confused and concerned. She looks at me with sad eyes before replying, “Y/N, Sophia got really sick out of nowhere, I heard she's at the hospital.” My eyes blew wide at the shocking news, why didn't she tell me? No, why would she do that? We're not even friends.
Am I really doing this? I think to myself as I open the hospital doors and stumble up to the kind-looking man in the lobby. I strike up a casual conversation with him as he guides me to a room, I thank him quickly before he scurries away.
There in the little window on the door I see her, Sophia's sitting down on the bed. Her hair is a mess and her clothes look ridiculous, it looks like she hasn't slept for a few days too. I gently open the door and her gaze falls upon me, it's easier to see her face now. She looks tired, really tired. “Hey…” I say, she looks away from me and cuddles up in her sitting position. “What are you doing here?” she tries to sound annoyed, but it just comes out in a tired huff. “I heard what happened, I… was worried about you. I brought some notes from the classes you missed.” She looks shocked at my confession, she relaxes her posture and her gaze becomes soft. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.” She smiles a little as she grabs the papers I handed her, our hands touching softly.
I look at her, really look at her. For the first time actually having time to admire how pretty she looks, how perfect her flaws are. “I just came to give you that… so if you don't need anything else, I'll go.” I turn around to walk away, grabbing the door knob and turning it around, “Wait! Will you… please stay with me a little longer, I need it.
I need you.”
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this is so messy I'm sorrrrryyyy!! I wanted to post something today at least :((
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