#Your arm. Oh you lied bc not knowing why she left you makes you feel foolish? HUH. Anyways I’m going to shower you in optimism | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunaviee · 1 year

Note

can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33

OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..

the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG

okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁

OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭

“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”

chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s

tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…

synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓

RIN ITOSHI—

the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.

after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.

*click*

the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.

“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.

“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”

you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”

his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.

“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.

he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”

“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.

“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.

“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??

“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.

“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”

how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?

“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”

you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.

his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.

“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)

“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”

the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?

“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.

who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.

it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.

“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”

you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh

“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”

“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face

“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.

“yeah, you’re right, thanks”

“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”

“i’ll stay here and bug you more”

“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling

• { time skip - two days later } •

the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.

sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.

your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.

you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.

your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.

“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.

rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.

the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.

that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.

he’d been..crying?

your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.

“i’m sorry” he blurted out

he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.

he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.

“i’m so sorry [name].”

“i know.”

“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”

“i know.”

“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”

he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.

“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.

silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.

“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.

rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.

“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying

“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”

“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”

“i know.”

the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.

“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed

rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.

“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #angst #comfort #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk rin #✩ vie writes

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webslingingslasher · 4 months

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omg what if Peter gets trouble a gift for x-mas BUT trouble didn't bother with a gift for him bc she thought that he wouldn't care about her enough to get her a gift

'what's that?'

'oh!' peter holds out the package, when you stare at the printed santa wrapping paper, he nudges it a little. 'it's for you.'

your entire stomach dropped, you knew you should've gotten him something. you were so convinced it would be stupid, but now you're eating your words.

'c'mon, trouble. what, never got a gift before?' it's fine, you could play it off. you hesitantly reach out for the box, it's even got a bow on top.

'no! i just... haven't gotten yours in the mail yet.' it's fine, you could figure something out. you had two days before he left for home.

'you didn't have to get me anything, trouble.' you peer at the gift, 'ditto, parker.' peter waves you off, 'just open it, c'mon!' you hide your guilt with a smile.

gently tearing the paper, you're met with a gift box. it has a reindeer and a penguin hugging, you peek up at peter, he's itching for you to see what's inside. 'open it, open it!'

handing off the scraps of paper, peter crushes it into a ball, keeping an eye on your face. the gift is revealed, a gray hoodie, with a spider-man mask emblem on the left top corner.

your heart expands three sizes, your thumb runs over the raised embroidering, it's high quality. 'isn't it awesome? i saw it when i was shopping for may like, three weeks ago. i just had to get it for you.' he's so excited, he was proud to know he found something he knows you'd love. and you got him nothing in return.

'okay, okay, put it on! cause there's kind of a part two of the gift.' you feel terrible, it's hard to push back the love for the clothing over the overwhelming hurt you have over getting him nothing. you knew you shouldn’t have talked yourself out of it.

you didn't want to be in peter's spot. something to give and then receive nothing in return. a subtle hint that one cares more about the other.

your silence has peter tone down his excitement, maybe he was a little off with his gift. 'do you not like it? i can return it and you can pick... no! why are you crying? is it that bad?'

you shake your head, using the back of your hand to wipe a stray tear. 'oh, whew! for a second i thought you hated it, but nope, peter picked good. so good you're speechless and crying, look at me go.'

proud. boastful. meanwhile you're solemn and glum.

'seriously, trouble. put it on!' it's the absolute least you could do, he already went miles ahead of you. the cardboard falls to the floor when you pull the fabric up, it's a bigger size than you'd normally wear. 'that's part two. i got it a little bigger so i could wear it and get my scent on it for you.'

your heart’s about to burst open, it's fleece lined and ultra soft over your skin. 'i wore it when you weren't around, so it should smell like me.' you bring a sleeve to your nose, it does. it smells like a giant peter hug. his hands pulled the hoodie over your head, a dopey smile took over his face.

'super cute. it's your superpower.'

with that, you fall into his chest with a sob. it's not a good one either, arms wrap tight around you, his cheek resting on your head mashes the cotton further down. 'i lied!' you clutch his shirt, shame spills out.

'about what? that you like it?' your head thrashes, he couldn't be more wrong. it was your most favorite possession now that it's been added to your collection.

'i didn't get you anything!' you pull him tighter to you, terrified he’d push you away and tell you he hates you. 'i'm so sorry,' you breathe in and out deeply. 'i was going to but then i didn't think you would get me anything and that's not the point of christmas but i didn't want to make you feel weird and, and,'

'i made you feel weird?' it's not the right word. 'no! i just...' peter pushes you back, his hands cup your face to force you to look at him. 'made you feel bad?' you nod, he guessed correctly.

'i meant it, trouble. you don't have to get me anything, i just saw it and thought of you. it's not a big deal, i promise.' that made you feel worse and he can see it.

'stop it, stop. you heard me, right? i got that weeks ago. christmas was just an opportunity give it to you, but if it was april or june or whatever the fuck month, i still would've bought it.' featherlight kisses to both cheeks. 'it’s a just because gift, christmas was just an excuse to give it to you, okay? you've gotten me plenty of those before, i don't need one now.'

'i'm so sorry, peter. i promise i'm gonna get you something, i mean, it won't be a christmas gift because you're going home and i won't be able to give to you until you get back so then it just becomes-'

peter grins, like he's thinking quicker than you are. 'a just because gift? like the one you're wearing?' you were the one that fucked him over, yet he's the one making you feel better. it still works.

'yeah. i think so. but, it will have christmas wrapping paper.' a stoic nod, 'of course. i mean, that's the only stuff i had in the house. it's not like i chose that pattern on purpose.' (he did. but he'd die before he admitted that to you.)

you look down at your new hoodie, you love it. your hands run down the front, it's so, so soft. you look back up, peter loves that you love it. 'not a christmas gift?' peter shakes his head, 'psh. of course not.'

your words lower, you reach up on tippy toes for a kiss. 'just because?' hands on your hips as peter leans in has your stomach fluttering, it's been a minute since he's kissed you so soft and slow. 'just because.'

#frat!peter drabbles

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thedvilsinthedetails · 2 months

Text

rosekiller microfic band au pt3

heyyy pt3 is here yayyy

I haven’t rlly read it thru again and I’m feeling pretty tired today so if there’s a quality dip that’s why but also we have some nice Barty POV which I find easier to write sooo balances out ig

also we have some Marlene in this one (u can thank @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl because I wasn’t gonna put her in but she loves Marls [not that I don’t] to and yk she’s the boss so 🫡🫡🫡 Marlene is in the fic and I’m actually glad bc I love her part in this)

oh also Reg is autistic in this [in my mind] so when I mention him wearing headphones it’s bc he wears headphones on public transport/often in public/during gigs to help block noise <3

oh also all the skittles have matching nail polish and little tattoos on their wrists (idk if I actually mention it here but just so u have it in ur mind)

Tags for ppl that (I think?) wanted to be tagged <3 : @depressedtheatrekiddo @blu3stars @picklerab23 @lady-stardust-incarnate @always-reading @no-names-work @y0url0verb0y @2bluetwo85 @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @weirdtinkerbellversion @lulublack90 @nikholascrow (please please do tell me if you don’t want to be tagged bc idm and obviously won’t be upset but I just don’t want to tag ppl that don’t actually want to be tagged so I’m just sort of guessing by who commented last time so um yeah)

Link to previous part

link to part one

link to next part

(Cw: lil bit of homophobia in here sorry)

***

By the time the train arrived at their station both Barty and Evan had dozed off. Arms wrapping around each other, bodies curled into one another like a jigsaw puzzle. Evan didn’t wake up as gently as he fell asleep though because he was woken by Regulus kicking his seat aggressively. Once he finally opened his eyes he turned to face him. He was wearing his headphones, big and black originally but covered in splodges of spray paint from when Barty had offered to ‘customise‘ them for Regulus. He’d pushed them back though, now that the majority of people has filtered out of the little compartment.

“Hurry up and get your stuff.”

Regulus ordered before following Pandora and Dorcas who had already left.

Evan turned and tapped Barty gently to wake him up. Then when that didn’t work he shook him till he opened his eyes with a start.

It took Barty a moment to realise where he was but even once he did he just grumbled.

“Ev don’t make me get up, please.”

He pouted, eyes wide and dilated in some kind of cheap attempt at cuteness.

“Come on you know you have to get up baby- Barty!”

Evan gaped, realising his mistake just too late. A slip of the tongue and he’d gone and fucked everything up.

“D’you just call me baby?”

A grin spread on Barty’s face and he poked Evan gently and laughed.

“You’ve been single too long Rosier.”

“You- you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad, baby?”

Barty winked, clicking his tongue as he got up and shuffled past Evan with a wicked smirk.

•••

Barty was going insane.

Evan had called him baby. Baby. And fuck his reaction had been visceral. But like…in a good way? It made him want to bite down on something hard but that thing was the muscles on Evan’s arms. Or bruise something but that thing was Evan’s neck…with a hickey or two.

Something about the way it had slipped out so naturally, so warmly. It just made Barty’s heart flutter. Made him want to grab Evan and shake the sense out of him enough to like Barty. Something along the lines of ‘kiss me, ruin me, dear God I’m begging you.’ Ah well, nothing you can’t really do about these kinds of situations except get on with it. Lying was something Barty had gotten very good at from a young age and not stopped since. Some might call it acting but those were the types of people who were just trying to convince themselves they were good and moral. Barty didn’t really care enough about that kind of stuff to bother. White lies this and how it contrasts with malicious lies that, like someone trying to section off a gradient in two. You can’t, it’s all the same monochrome blur in the end.

Barty was lost in this little daydream when he heard Pandora roar.

“WHAT?!”

Now Pandora didn’t often roar, maybe laugh maniacally every now and then yes, but yell? Scream? That was never her type of thing. Save for some rare occasions that Barty could probably count on one hand. Pandora yelling meant it was time to stop daydreaming about Evan’s curls or Evan’s hands with their chipped green nail polish or Evan’s fucking tight t shirts. Yeah time to stop thinking about that and listen up. So he did.

“I do not intend to offend anyone by it.”

Riddle raised his hands up defensively with a cheap sleazy smile that immediately made Barty dislike him.

“I’m just saying that this venue prides itself on a distinct lack of…untoward behaviour. It’s not a massive deal, I think your lead and backup singers can use separate microphones for two nights of a six month tour.

“What the fuck man?”

Barty stepped forward immediately hands curling into fists, Riddle was pretty short, he could definitely take him if that’s what it came to.

“Barty stop, that isn’t the right way to solve things. Come on let’s just- let’s come back later ok? See if we can talk to someone else, not this piece of shit.”

Dorcas spat out the last three words as she pulled Barty back to the group.

He was going to argue till he felt Evan put a hand on his shoulder, instead he just left Evan guide him away after the rest of the group.

“We’ll figure it out ok?”

“Fucking- Ev we can’t play there. They’re fucking homophobic.”

“Barty the O2 has been your dream since-“

“I DONT BLOODY CARE!”

“Barty shut the fuck up. I said we’ll talk about it and we will, we will figure it out but stop acting like a goddamn CHILD.”

Barty looked over at Evan who had his teeth bared, slightly wild look in his eyes. He was seething too, clearly. Just more mature than Barty.

“Ok, yeah.”

He breathed in.

“I’m sorry Ev.”

“Hey it’s alright. It’s just important the band shows a united front against this you know? We can’t split up or in fight because then, well then we all lose.”

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right Rosie. But we will do something.”

“I promise you they’re not getting away with this.”

Evan nodded. He tossed a hand over Barty’s shoulder, pulling him in just a little bit closer as they walked. Barty wasn’t complaining.

•••

“You don’t get it Marls, we can’t just not play the O2. We’d lose way too much money off it, probably too much to be able to continue with the rest of the tour. Plus venues will think we’re unreliable and might cancel or pull out. Riddle is such a fucking dick, he only told us when we went there for a tech practice literally today.”

“Fuck yeah that’s shitty.”

Marlene was sat next to Barty on the floor of his hotel room, helping him repaint his nails. The entire band had them matching, a bright toxic green, his had started to fade though.

“What if you just…ignore them? Do it anyway?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not like they can drag us off stage mid performance.”

“Not without exposing their homophobia.”

“Still…I wanna make a statement. Something big you know? Show them they can’t straight wash us.”

Marlene looked up at Barty, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I might have an idea then.”

•••

Evan was sat in an alcove in the hotel corridor watching Regulus patiently braid and unbraid Pandora’s hair on the sofa opposite him. It calmed them both down whenever they were stressed. And Barty and Marlene, locked up together in Barty’s hotel room. Both raging homosexuals dead set on never following rules talking amongst themselves just before the biggest gig of the band’s history? Yeah that was a reason to be stressed. That’s when he heard the tell tale clump of Barty’s docs down the corridor. And he was walking with purpose.

As soon as he came into view Evan noticed the way his eyebrows were knotted together yet his eyes were glimmering with excitement. Evan had no clue what Barty was going to say next but it wasn’t that.

“Marlene thinks I should kiss you.”

Barty announced and Evan dropped his jaw, staring at him agape.

“What?”

“And I agree with her.”

“What?”

***

OK HOPE U LIKED IT

xxx BYEEEE

pt4 probs gonna come soon bc I swear this fic has a life of its own

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abbyslev · 8 months

Note

JUNE BABY PLS I BEG YOU PLS WRITE SOME YELENA SMUT PLS I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE IM TOO FAR GONE I NEED THIS WOMEN TO SLAM ME AGAINST A WALL AND MAKE OUT WITH ME AND LOVE ME AND PUNCH ME AND MAKE ME HER WIFE AND SPIT IN MY FACE AND NEVER LET ME GO PLS I BEG YOU PLS IM SO DESPERATE PLS

𝑭𝑶𝑪𝑼𝑺- 𝒀𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑨 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

A/N: the craziest part is that no one gets my love for yelena like lea does. @lejayooo GETS IT. SO GOOD. i wrote this for her bc i love her and ofc i need to feed into our delusions TOGETHER??? THIS WAS INSPIRED BY LANA TOO LIKE THE WAY I WOULD LET YELENA FOLD ME IN HALF AND DESTROY ME??? I HOPE ALL OF YOU ENJOY OK IM GONNA GO FANGIRL W LEA NOW OK GUYS

WARNINGS: pure smut bro

Your name left her mouth once again, an annoyed sigh from your mouth leaving as you looked up.

“I need you to focus.” Professor Yelena gave you a stern smile before pointing to the board. “Answer.” She added. Your cheeks turned red, your ears hot. You had been thinking about Professor Yelena's long fingers touching you in such soft ways, mouth meeting yours as your hands tangled themselves in her soft hair. You practically dropped at the thought.

“I- uhm…i’m not sure.” You cleared your throat as you could feel the stares of your peers. “Like yesterday? And the day before that?” Yelena shook her head, sucking her teeth. You look down, picking at your fingers. “Stay after class.” She let out a soft chuckle before turning back to her lesson.

This must have been the longest lesson in the world. You couldn’t stop thinking about how badly she was going to scold you, how she was going to shame you for your skills. You bite your tongue, the people around you moving as Yelena yelled out what pages to read tonight. You stuff your bag with your belongings before slowly dragging yourself to her desk, a shy smile on your face.

Yelena waved off her last student before turning to you. She walked past you, opening the door to her office. She extended an arm out, letting you go in first. You stood there shyly as she removed her coat, rolling up her sleeves.

My god, her long, pale veiny arms made you practically drool again. You tore your eyes away from her arms, looking at her exposed collarbones, wishing nothing more than to kiss them. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Yelena chuckled, tapping her head.

“Erm, nothing. Just a hard time focusing.” You lied. “I think not. You seem to have a perfect score in every single class, so why is mine the issue? You passed Zoë’s class easily enough last year.” Yelena sat down, typing on her computer. “I don’t like this book. I only like books that i’m interested in.” You lied. “You told Zoë you loved anything by this author, which is why I chose it. Is that an issue?” Yelenas brows furrowed.

You stayed quiet, eyes wide. Why would she ever pick anything you liked? She didn’t even know you last year. “This is your major, I expect more from you. You did pretty well up until a while ago.” Yelena rested one hand on her chin, her cold eyes trailing down your body.

Yeah, that was a couple of months before you started realizing how hot she was, before you started thinking unimaginable things about her.

“Zoë says you’re perfect, I was really expecting that kind of participation in my class.” Yelena smiled. “I just have a lot going on right now.” You say quickly. “Want to talk about it? It stays between us.” Yelena gave you another warm smile. “I’m ok. Thank you.” What else were you supposed to say? How you want her to fuck you so bad?

“Well, come here, i want to show you some alternative assignments, maybe we can get that C to a B.” Yelena waved you over. Oh my god, were you really about to be right next to your hot professor?

You sit next to her, body stiff. She smelled like cologne. You inhaled deeply, trying not to be obvious. You were so close to touching her. Yelena spread her legs, her knee touching yours. Neither of you moved. “You could write me a six hundred word essay on this book. Unless you’d rather just read it with us.” Yelena looked over at you.

She noticed your stiff body, your hands slightly shaking as you avoided eye contact with her. “I can just read.” You blurted out. “What, sweetheart?” Yelenas brows furrowed again. SWEETHEART? Your heart pounded, eyes shooting to the floor. Her hand lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “Answer.” She whispered, leaning in.

You squeeze your legs, lips parting a bit as Yelena leaned in, thumb playing with your lower lip. “I can read.” You whispered back. “Good.” Yelena kissed you, hand softly caressing your jaw. You embarrassingly whimpered, holding her wrist. Yelena brought you into her lap, hands massaging your thighs.

She kissed your neck, nose tickling your neck. “Is this what you think about?” Yelena played with your waistband, holding a fistful of your hair, making you look at her. “Tell me what you think about, baby.” Yelena brought your lips down to hers. “I think about your fingers inside of me. I think abou- fuck.” You throw your head back as Yelena squeezed your breasts.

Yelena helped you pull off your pants, pushing you on her desk. “I always think about you. How you’re mine. Not Zoë’s dirty little pet, you’re mine.” Yelena shoved her fingers in your mouth. You drooled all over them, face pouting as your legs shook. Yelena tapped your clit softly before starting to do slow circles.

Your nails gripped the edge of the desk, eyebrows furrowing as Yelena slowly sank a finger in you. You close your legs, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Yelena's free hand tugged on your shirt. You threw it off, hands locking around Yelena’s neck. Yelena kissed you, fingers pumping in and out of you and her thumb continued to circle your clit.

“You get all embarrassed when I call on you, do you like that? Do you like that I think about punishing you when you’re wrong?” Yelena mumbled in your ear, fingers quickening with every word. “Yes, fuck, yes!” You scream, your head laid in between her shoulder and neck, teeth sinking into Yelena’s shoulder, quiet pleads leaving your mouth.

You rock your hips upwards, hoping for more. Yelena pressed your body down with her cold hand, shaking her head. “Please,” You look at her. Yelena ran the same hand down your face, softly caressing your bottom lip. She kissed you softly, capturing your bottom lip between her teeth.

You grasped Yelena's upper arm, feeling the soft curve of her muscles. She could feel you about to cum. “Beg for it.” She slowed her pace, pressing her forehead against yours. “P-please, professor.” You try to keep your shaking legs open. “Please what?” Yelena kissed the corner of your mouth, tongue tracing your lips. “Please let me-shit!” Your fingers dig into her back. Your nails scratch her soft skin, decorating her pale skin with your red love marks.

“I wanna hear you, pretty.” Yelena watched as you moaned out loud, lips quivering as you called out her name. “How bad do you want it?” Yelena hummed. “S-so bad! Bad!” You shut your eyes. Yelena slapped your face, hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you forward.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you.” Yelena mumbled. That sets you off. Your legs gave in, chest collapsing as loud, breathy moans left your lips and hands tangling themselves in her hair, forehead against Yelena’s, your cum all over her desk.

She helped you come down, pushing your hair out of your face. “You’re a mess.” She chuckled as she handed you your bottoms. “Thanks to you.” You sit there for a moment. “Do you really think of me that way?” Yelena traced soft circles on your inner thigh. You blushed, pushing her hand off.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed now.” She caressed your cheek, leaning down to your level. She pressed a soft kiss on your lips. You pull away, standing up. “What?” Yelena smiled. You kiss her one more time before opening her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow after class.” You smile, shutting the door behind you.

#attack on titan #yelena snk #yelena x reader #yelena x you #yelena attack on titan #snk yelena #yelena smut #yelena headcanons #yelena #yelena aot #aot x reader #aot smut

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filmbyjy · 1 year

Note

hi its me, the one who asked u for the exam prep fic w jay.

i want some angst. Its because im going through that rn. HE FELL FIRST BUT SHE FELL HARDER, where jay gives up on their "friendship" because the reader was too busy denying her feelings for him. (u can end it w some fluff if u want heh) Doesnt necessarily havw to be with jay btw any member from enhypen u think fits best for this works.

its alright if u dont want to!!

a/n: oh hi anon☺️ oh my god but this request phew😮‍💨 prepare the tissues bc I feel like i’m gonna make this too angsty. of course, i’m gonna end it off on a good note. my heart can’t handle not getting a happy ending.

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

genre: angst but fluff towards the end

warning: talks about cutting/self-harm and depression (do proceed with caution). mentions of dead parents. I believe I made this too angsty so i am sorry. you do end up with jay though so that’s the good part. i did also change up a bit bc i believe that i have triggered someone with jake like ‘slut-shaming’ you. i am so sorry for that part.

word count: 1.5K words

taglist[perm]: @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @milklix @kar0ki @sugarsunoo

our friendship

10 years of friendship.

down the drain just like that. all because of your selfishness. you couldn’t forget the way jay’s hands trembled as he voices out his feelings.

you felt like the villain for not believing him. denying your own feelings for him. you couldn’t love him. it was impossible, not when jay was for someone else. you couldn’t provide him with the affection he deserves. you were a broken record.

“why did you hurt him?” sunghoon asks.

— placing this in case the read more messes up —

“i didn’t mean to.” you nonchalantly say. the boy sighs.

“i know you didn’t mean to but I know you’re just hurting yourself too.”

“i’m not hurting myself.”

“when was the last time you ate properly?”

you kept quiet. jay usually made sure you ate on time, even if you didn’t have enough money, he made sure to buy you a meal. your life wasn’t the best. your dad did drugs and was absent most of your life. your mom ran off with a foreigner. you were left alone to fend for yourself. no family member to care for you. you matured quicker than most kids because of that.

sunghoon places a carton of milk. your favourite. one that jay usually buys for you.

“take this. you haven’t had lunch.”

“it’s alright. I don’t like this flavour.” you lied.

“that’s a lie. both jake and I have seen you happily drinking it after jay places it on your desk.”

“well, i stopped liking it.”

“after jay left.”

“well, he left for a reason.”

“because he was heartbroken.”

“his mom wanted him to study in america. that’s his real reason.”

“he would’ve stayed for you, (name).”

“i don’t want to hold him back, sunghoon.” you glared at the boy. sunghoon sighs.

“you aren’t holding him back, he just loves you.”

“well, i don’t love him!”

“stop being in denial. you love him just much as he loves you. actually no, you love him way more than he could love you.”

“you’re bullshitting, sunghoon.”

“you’re going to regret saying this (name).”

you left sunghoon. you didn’t want to hear what he was saying because if you stopped denying, you’d hurt yourself. falling in love with your best friend was something scary. falling hard for your best friend was the worst.

it had been years since you graduated from high school. you haven’t heard much from sunghoon, jake or even jay. you had fell out of that friendship ever since the talk. for some odd reason, your old classmates had organised this get together since it had been a while. you were not preparing yourself to meet your friends from high school.

“(name).” heeseung yells out. you gave him a little smile.

“class president.” you say. he chuckles.

“it was for 1 term, (name).”

“you were still our class president.”

“the best one.” jake slings his arm around heeseung. heeseung groans as he attempts to push jake’s arms off.

“it’s been a while, (name).” jake says. his voice laces with venom which wasn’t how he was normally and how he was back then. you nearly wince at how his tone sounded.

you could feel a shiver creep up and you were actually scared of jake.

“uh, yes. i-it’s been a while.” you say. afraid of saying something wrong to get jake angry. honestly, he had a very good reason to get mad at you. you hurt jay. one of the first few people jake cared about.

after you hurt jay, jake had followed jay to America. where they both continued their studies to together. sunghoon visited them and eventually moved there a little to spend time and possibly study there too. eventually, all of them moved back here to continue college since they missed Seoul.

seeing jake in a long while, you realised you missed him and the friendship the both of you had. jake was sort of like a brother to you. he was the closest to you but of course he clearly chose jay. you wanted to walk away but jake grabs on your wrist. heeseung leaves, he could feel the heavy tension.

“I see you’re happy with how your life turned out.”

“what?”

“cut that bullshit. iseul told us. you go to parties and have fun as if you didn’t do anything wrong! it’s disgusting, after you hurt your own best friend’s feelings?”

“jaeyun-”

“don’t call me that. we aren’t friends anymore.”

it fell silent between the both of you, the sound of EDM playing in the background. tears prickling at your eyes. someone comes to pull jake off you. you knew that familiar cologne.

“jake, you shouldn’t fight here. just leave her alone.” jay says.

“she hurt you, jay. how could you just ignore that? she’s been living her life happily while you cried everyday back in America.”

“don’t.” jake shoves jay’s arm and walks away. jay turns to you. he attempts to touch your wrist but you moved back.

“(name).” the way he says your name was perfect. it felt right but you shouldn’t.

you shook your head. tears falling down.

“jay, please.”

his eyes caught sight of slashing marks. they seem pretty recent. he knows you were never one to harm yourself but what exactly happened?

you left the place that day. it was when you started to really close off. you see, after jay left. a whole series of bad luck just dumped onto you. your dad got into car accident and died on impact. your mom was diagnosed with cancer and she died months later. you were left alone having to work hard to earn your own money.

you could feel the burden of living alone just pile over you and you couldn’t take it anymore. everything was overwhelming. too overwhelming. even the feeling of pain wasn’t as immense as the burden you felt. which was why you started self-harming yourself. you loved the feeling of the blade cutting your skin, it was numbing.

“(name), could you please tell me the answer?” the lecturer asks as you were daydreaming. you easily answered and the lecturer hums.

the bell rings soon after and students start pouring out of the class. you tugged onto your hoodie arms, hoping the hide the latest cut. it was itchy and it started bleeding again when you went to pick on it. you simply placed a bandaid over it.

you were packing your things when you felt a tap on your shoulder. you looked up.

“hi.” sunghoon says. you looked away, you couldn’t let him see you like this. you shouldn’t associate yourself with your old friend group. you walked away quick but sunghoon was fast. curse his long legs.

“(name).” he stops you and pulls back your hood. that’s when he realises the bloodshot look you had. he gasps a little.

“what happened to you?”

“didn’t sleep.”

“you look like you got hit by a truck.” he winced.

“maybe I did. what’s your problem?”

“look about what happened that day with jake at the reunion…”

“I forgive him. I deserve it after all.” you walked away but sunghoon tries to catch up to you.

“yeah but that doesn’t account for what he did to you.”

“he didn’t punch me. he just talked to me.”

“(name).”

“please, sunghoon. i don’t want to live in a world with guilt. I’ve already hurt jay enough and I don’t want to hurt jake too.”

“yeah but like I’ve said a long time ago. you’re hurting yourself too. I heard that you rarely ever go out besides actually spending time in school. you’ve gone from a social butterfly to an introvert.”

“what’s wrong with being an introvert.”

“it’s just not who you are (name).”

“so what if I am not who I was. people change sunghoon. i think it’s best if I stayed away from jay. we should have never cross paths.”

“but you like him.”

“yeah, I do. what will happen? hmm? jay doesn’t like me anymore, I know it. he’s probably already dating someone hot. someone that suits him. someone who isn’t me.”

“you are someone that suits me, (name).” jay voices out. you shook your head and turned around to jay.

“I am not right for you. you wouldn’t want an emotionally and mentally broken girl. I already lost my parents, I don’t want to lose anything anymore.”

“your parents are gone?”

“they’re dead. it’s been a year or two. after i graduated from high school…”

“(name).”

“jay, i’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my feelings but it’s too late. i am too broken.”

“you know I wouldn’t care if you’re too broken. I would’ve held you tight and cared for you.”

“jay, I just think we were on different levels. you were someone popular, smart and good looking. i’m just whatever this is.”

“I never cared about the stereotype. I loved you for who you were.”

“love is a strong word to describe how you’re feel about me.” you say. jay holds you close.

“but I do love you.”

“you wouldn’t understand, how much I feel for you.”

“then show me.”

“I can’t. not in public, where sunghoon and jake are staring at us.”

jake rolls his eyes, “go ahead and kiss. this idiot has been rooting for the both of you since high school.” he smacks sunghoon.

“what’s so wrong for hoping they’d get together. I thought they fit each other.” sunghoon glares at jake.

jay pecks your forehead, “we’ll take this slow until you feel better, hmm?”

and he did make you feel better.

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streaminn · 1 year

Text

Tongues & Teeth I (wenclair)

lil au where its after season one and semester break, more explanation in my past posts tbh but essentially Enid feels like she’s doesn’t deserve to be standing by Wednesday and does smth about it until some other pack of werewolves come strolling into town.

includes more indepth werewolf lore and mannerism

Perhaps it was the fact that Wednesday finally settled down after the whirlwind of events that is her first semester but she could not help but note that something seemed off.

She curses at herself for feeling so unsettled, you would think being away from the institution she so desperately tried to escape from at the start would be relieving but instead it left her with an irritating tingling underneath her skin and she did not know why.

Was it her abode? No, she did not think so.

Everything seemed the same in the Addams manor: Pugsley’s incessant cheap attempts at assault still lingered every moment, Thing scuttled around like the spy he is and her Parents continue to scorch her eyes with their over the top affections.

(She does not mention that emptiness in her arms, the shiver in her skin everytime she brushes near someone.

Something was wrong and she can not figure out why.

Perhaps she is ill?)

It is when she goes to visit the town's mall for a family outing, two weeks away from Nevermore, that she is sharply reminded of what's missing.

It was the background song of a song that strikes her like a sword. It had a familiar nauseating tune, so loud and so Enid that she had to physically stop at the sudden ache in her chest at the remembrance of her friend.

Oh.

“No wonder,” Wednesday murmurs, pointedly ignoring her Mother’s look.

Enid truly left her mark and to think she had slipped Wednesday’s mind is inexcusable. An Addams always honours their words and distance wasn’t supposed to make her forget.

Safe to say, after some scouring through the brick of a phone for the necessary information, she goes and sends a message.

Wednesday knows that her roommate is a phone addict, always having it on her body when she could and she vaguely remembers how fast it would appear whenever a notification would sound.

She was not unsettled when after an hour or so, no reply had come with her message. She also had not reread her words to make sure she came off wrong.

Enid, How has your early break treated you? It has been a while since we have come in contact and the fault lies with me. I may have forgotten to exchange information when Xavier has gifted me this phone. Do tell me about your recent days. Sincerely, Wednesday Addams.

Was it too blunt? Too sharp, too uncaring?

Wednesday didn’t know and so she settled with ending the night early, anything to pass the churning in her gut.

In the morning, she felt the crawling of bugs scuttling along her stomach when she opened the phone. Her heart felt like the repeating banging of the doorbell as she stood up fully.

Enid Sinclair has sent (6) message.

OMG WEDNESDAY?? THE Wednesday Addams!?

You type like a nerd 😮

Pls dont kill me, this isi all slash jay

Joking! All jokin

My days just go so much better now! Bc leik omg, i genuinely didnt expect this

This is amazing weds im telllin u

It brings something to her face, to see such familiar words. Although some of the diction was confusing, Wednesday chalked it up to being an Enid thing. Just with her words, it's almost like Enid was chattering right away next to her.

Wednesday and Enid continue to text all throughout their break like this. Always in the mornings then picking up in the afternoon. One totally unaware of what is happening to the other.

–

Enid doesn’t frequent the library, simply because it isn’t exactly one of the most well known places in her town. Why was this being brought up? Well her mother kicked her out of the house, murmuring to stay out of trouble because another pack of wolves is coming to town.

It made Enid slouch, a frown on her lips. She’s a little high strung but she doesn’t cause trouble unless someone starts it.

It's not her fault her brothers got too physical, she was just repaying the favour.

So now here she is, in a library. Why is she in the Library? Well, it's because the smell of old books caught her attention. It was so irritating, being so sensitive to smells because holy moly do people stink but here? In the aisles of dusty shelves and old paper, it's almost like she’s standing next to Wednesday again.

A part of her whines at the loss of lavender and ink, that was what's missing. She was missing Wednesday and she got reminded of it when she got her texts just this morning.

God, she really really missed that girl.

Who knew being in such close proximity made her so clingy?

But it's okay! They were texting and omygod does that make her heart race. She could spend her whole day doing this, except Wednesday has stuff to do and she’s left staring at the block of text.

With a sigh, Enid pulls a random book from the shelf, admiring the simple name pressed on its side. Ravens and Wolves, how curious. She was about to open it until the chime of the library bell alerts her to a newcomer.

Normally she wouldn’t really care, a glance maybe and then back to her own world. Until a smell hits her sensitive nose and she staggers back like a newborn deer.

The scent of overwhelming ash fills the building, one that makes her hiss and attempt to plug her nose with a hand. God, these powers! so infuriating. There's something else in the air, something the other wolf is projecting but it's so hard to focus when her eyes are watering.

It's when she sees someone's shoes on the corner of her vision does Enid finally look up. In the sea of overwhelming fear pouring over her head, a flash of confusion and annoyance strikes her brain. Who does this wolf think he is? To corner a teen like this, it almost makes her wonder what Wednesday would do.

Probably stab him but that isn't allowed here.

So her hand tightens on the spine of the book as her body screams at her to run. She does want to follow but a part of her doesn’t want to move and she agrees.

Because honestly, what's with people and prodding and pushing?

She’s just here, trying to read and then some asshole comes to stare her down. This wasn’t just over some book either because she has never felt such curiosity and amusement oozing off someone more than now.

With a frown, Enid places the book back and quickly shuts off her phone before pocketing it. Not liking the way his eyes seem to stare at it for a moment.

He certainly didn’t seem that imposing, but he just had this serial killer vibe that made her give a shaky smile in turn, anything to try and keep the peace. The man just tilts his head in reply, giving a lip closed smile in turn.

It makes the hairs on her neck rise.

Honestly, she would’ve assumed the guy was harmless if it weren't for the amount of edgy vibes wafting off like smoke, just about threatening to choke her out. It claws at her senses and Enid doesn’t know if he’s even doing it on purpose.

It's like the air around him was naturally dense, making it hard to even stand so close.

“So you’re the blood moon pup,” he starts and the mention of that night has Enid growling, eyes narrowed as she stands straight. When had she slouched?

Blood moon this, blood moon that. She doesn’t know much of the significance other than the fact that it's a special night and that her parents told her to be hush about it. The other werewolf gave her side eyes but it never went more than that.

Almost immediately, the air went from slowly suffocating to thick and absolutely choking and Enid swallows on another instinctive growl. Oh shit-

The wolf is still smiling and in fact, it seems to have gotten bigger - amused - but Enid can see the hint of anticipation, of threat in his lips. Her mind screams at that, clawing at her shoulders and she steps back, trying to push down such bothersome instincts.

“Don’t be like that,” he chides, stepping forward as his lips pulled into a showcase of teeth. “I’m just curious about the late bloomer and it's not everyday a pup shifts in a blood moon.”

He says it's important, like a symbolism from some god. Enid is reminded of a delusional preacher at this moment. Honestly she should care about why so many people seem to care about the moon, but there was no point. She could shift now, she could protect now-

That's all that matters.

Protecting what hers.

Protecting Wednesday.

“What about it?” she grits out.

He taps at his cheek and Enid remembers the scar on her face. She has it bared to the world to see, even securing a clip to keep her hair. She should be slouched about it, vanity was all she had before she shifted but now?

It was a trophy, a sign that she had taken care of what's her.

“I simply wonder what a pup like you had to go through to shift on that night,” he murmurs, all easy words and shrugging shoulders. “You’re an abnormality, did you know that?”

Those words nearly make her see red. Abnormal, outcast, not like the rest-

Who is this asshole to think he can say what he wants?

“What about it!?” she barks back, voice rising as she steps forward, ignoring the aching pressure rising in her chest. “I had to fight for someone and I would do it again and again if I had to!”

(Wednesday was choking and so small in that fuckers hands and she never felt such rage before, burning and coiling under her skin.

She blacks out after Wednesday calls for her.

Enid wakes up naked and there's blood under her nails and something sticking onto her throat.)

Her words immediately tempered off as unease began scratching up her spine. Something is screaming at her to shut up, to stay away. Normally she would’ve chalked it out as her instincts being crazy about someone unnecessary but she has never felt like this before and the want to run suddenly comes.

Other packwolves don’t feel like this, not even the pack leader that takes charge of her family. It's like there's a shroud hanging around the wolf’s shoulders, like a curl of death’s veil so ready to swallow her whole.

He’s terrifying, but if there’s one thing Enid is good at, it’s fake it till you make it.

“It's not everyday I meet such a pup with no manners,” he says. “You can call me Romulus and you’re Enid Sinclair, yes?”

“Just Enid,” she chokes out, trying to force down the churning in her stomach. His name rings a few bells and it suddenly hits her. This was the alpha, the pack leader of the wolves visiting. What's the leader doing interacting with a kid like her? “What do you want from me?”

It makes her step back and she watches how the older wolf seems to follow her movements easily, trailing after like a creep until she’s caught against a wall. It makes a sound bubble out from her chest as she scowls.

He laughs, throaty and almost borderline a growl. “Right, sorry Just Enid.” He waves his hand and she watches the tips of sharp nails.

It's not like she can just run, he’s standing at her only exit and despite the pride in her stomach, Enid has no choice but to cower. Her lips pulled back into a snarl and fully unleashed the low growl from her throat.

“So feisty,” he says, giving a lil chuckle.

Romulus laughs, all teeth in display as he leans to meet her eyes. Ice blue, she notes. Similar to hers.

It makes Enid’s face scrunch.

“Is that all you came here to say?” she asks, staring at him with a face completely open to her distaste. She knew other werewolves can be weird as hell, but to think that they were this weird. He looked too calm and if the glimmer in his eyes said anything, entertained as well. Even with her growling, he didn’t seem to take her as a threat.

If he keeps pushing, then she’ll fully fight back. Pack leader or no, no one is going to push her around like this. It's insulting- Wednesday would never stand for this!

It was unnerving. Even the sight of her teeth or claws was enough to make someone pause but not this guy.

“Hmm…” Every bone in Enid's body tensed as the older wolf reached out, and her eyes widened as the hand drew closer to her face. She briefly believed the man was going to destroy her eyes, but instead, he gently plucked at a lock of her coloured hair while twirling his finger over it. "Every other day, go to the library. You're a very interesting kid. I want to know more."

No, no way.

Romulus didn't react negatively to the blatant disrespect; instead, he just hummed softly, his eyes gleaming brightly in the faint light of the building and his face expressionless. Enid would have been concerned, even terrified, but she is too furious to give a damn.

Enough with the passivity, Wednesday would not stand for this stuff any longer!

“Back away! Don't you see how weird you seem right now?” Smacking the hand away from her head, Enid growled. "You're sounding like a creep!"

"I'm the creep?" he laughs. "weren't you the one staring at that gadget off yours? Addams was it?"

Enid felt all of the air leave her lungs, shoulders rising as she tensed up. What did he say?

"What're you trying to imply you sick fuck!?"

She expected a shout back, instead...

For almost three seconds, everything in their small space was silent - aside from Enid's growls - before a louder, more menacing rumbling literally halted the younger blonde in her tracks.

Romulus didn't growl. He wasn't showing teeth, and neither were his lips pushed back. He no longer has that unsettlingly blank expression; instead, a slight smile is pulling at the corner of his lips and he looks pleasantly amused. He doesn't appear to be a threat at all, but the deep rumbling from his chest startled Enid and caused her to spill out a whine before she could control herself. Even though it sounded like a warning rather than a typical growl, this one seemed more like a gentle reprimand aimed to get her to stop acting out without actually scaring her.

That only scared Enid even more.

Enid's eyes widened as her whining subsided, completely dumbfounded by her own response. She was used to being growled at by other pack leaders, who have also warned and scolded her but she's never felt a reaction like that, not even when some of the wolves at school snapped at her in the beginning. Sure, she may have grudgingly stopped, but she never complained and she never caved so quickly. Enid was right. This wolf was a problem; something about him was off; like every part of her knew he wasn't a typical wolf.

“That’s better.” The older blonde cooed, hand reaching forward to comb through the pup’s hair gently and this time Enid was too in shock to slap the hand away. “I assure you, I have no interest in anything like that. Late shifting at a blood moon is particularly odd in my life so I'm curious.” Enid could only weakly glare at the title. “So humour me, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to that…” he seems to humm before giving a smile, all teeth and fangs on display. “Wednesday, right? You should really keep your phone shut, pup.”

“Leave her alone!” She hissed, tone on the verge of sounding desperate and far from the angry, defensive growling from before. She barely got out of a Hyde attack and a part of her fears what will happen if she goes against a whole pack but she isn’t going to turn her back to one person that holds her like she’s precious. “If you think I won't claw your face out simply because you're some bigshot then you're wrong!”

“Then just talk with me, come to the library every other day and i don't need to drag not just your friend but your whole pack." The subtle threat wasn’t even subtle at all and Enid just glared harder. “That’s all I want.” Romulus continues, removing his hand from Enid’s hair and trailing down the side of her face before drawing back.

So she tears her eyes away and nods because fuck, she couldn’t exactly say no, now could she?

She grits her teeth as she searches the other man’s face for a minute, trying to find something, anything, that could show this was a trick. But his expression is frustratingly equal parts soft and terribly amused. There’s no hint of danger nor anger there, even after he growled at Enid, even after the pup had been constantly disrespectful as a way to get the man to just go away.

Enid clenched her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. She was never this violent, never this quick to anger and that made her hesitate, made her think. This is fine, she tries to reassure herself. If she can handle a pompous werewolf, she can handle whatever dumb noble Wednesday’s family could throw at her.

Her scars ache at the touch and it's a reminder of what Enid is willing to do for Wednesday.

“That’s it?” She whispered, the fire burning in her slowing down to ambers.

“That’s it.” The wolf echoed.

#au thoughts #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #wenclair #writing #tongues & teeth au

131 notes · View notes

campgender · 11 months

Note

ROY KENT? toxic masculinity-roy fuckin kent? oh hell nah, sorry in advance, this is gonna be long, you just jinxed yourself mentioning that. ;_; whoever said that did NOT watch enough of that boy because his masculinity is beautiful and there's genuinely nothing toxic about it at all. like, we did not watch him suck all his bitchiness up to have a relationship with his girl just for him to get called toxic. not to mention...

FIRST on my list of his display's of butchness: this is Roy "I gave my girlfriend head while she watched a video of me crying my head off" fuckin Kent! Y'all are not gonna pin him for toxic masculinity, c'mon. If that ain't the most butch-ass shit I've ever heard of...

SECOND: I'd put a lot more weight into the suggestion of toxic masculinity if he'd stayed the way he'd been at the beginning of the show but this is a man who grew a fuck-ton even in just the first couple episodes, not to mention throughout the show (which I haven't finished).

He's not a bully, which is surprising for such a hyper-masculine character. Hair as far as the eye can see, with a beard, furry thighs and arms, a low growly voice-But for all his swearing and other foul language, he isn't a bully. He doesn't pretend, he says no, and he sets clear boundaries, but even with children who he has loads of power over, he's very careful to never cross the line into bullying. He jokes, clearly knowing the children, barking orders and playing ball. He has a niece and even though he doesn't understand the book wrinkle in time, he reads it to her and only after getting three quarters through does he go to ted to demand what the fuck its supposed to be about.

THIRD: the way sometimes he looses speech and yet he STILL. FUCKING. COMMUNICATES. beautiful. Which rolls straight into FOUR, which is the way he communicates! He's very clear, very blunt, obviously. But its not just that. Its how as we get to know Roy Kent, more and more, we see how when he gets overwhelmed or annoyed, he often steps back from the situation so that he doesn't blow his temper at someone he likes or someone who doesn't deserve it...which is very, dare I say it? chivalrous! Its not a word you think when you think of roy kent, but he is! He's chivalrous! He isn't quite comfortable around rebecca, think of early season 2, but when he sees she needs it, he tells her she deserves the goddamn world in a partner, not just "fine", and he didn't tell her that because he had to! Keeley would've left it and he could've gotten away with a minimal answer. He told her because she deserved to hear it and he knew that and he's a fucking kind person!

just like that time at the end of season 1 when he and keeley were photographed by that man and he stole the photos and then handed them to keeley and gave the man back his camera. he could've smashed the fuckin camera. he's exactly the type of person to smash the camera! but he didn't. why? because they cost a shit-ton of money and because he wanted keeley to have photos of their first date. ;_; its called CHIVALRY. which. is. BUTCH. AS. FUCK. need i go on?

roy kent's masculinity is beautiful, it's a joy to behold, it's butch as hell, thank you, i hope you don't mind me dropping an essay in your askbox, sorry abt that.

OH SHIT YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED IT. you haven’t seen what they did to my bestie in the finale 😭😭 how they MALIGNED his NAME — if you do watch it come hmu though bc holy shit am i still livid.

anyway. yes to all of this!!!!! especially how he communicates while also losing speech <3333 i get so fucking upset every time someone calls him repressed bc like. he literally isn’t!!! he’s very aware of & in touch with his emotions!!!!!!!!!! what he is is stoic & it’s bc 1) he’s autistic 2) y’all are assholes. like. i feel like fucking crying every time i think about the scene in s1 when he’s just been benched: keeley’s excited but kind of impatient “oh, so you are ready to talk about real stuff now!!” and the way it makes it seem like a bad thing for him to need some time to process. & then her really sarcastic & dismissive response when he says how scared he is of losing what the entire fucking country has made his sole identity:

I think men that feel sorry for themselves are so sexy. And if you start telling me how hard it is that you play a game for a living, I think I might come.

i see fucking red!!!!!!! the show multiple times (including in the finale) belittles his feelings and/or throws away his characterization and then treats that like a #Feminist moment. & like in the previous example, yeah keeley prompts phoebe to say how she sees roy & that’s a sweet moment, but keeley never actually apologizes or says how she sees or thinks of roy outside of sex.

& then in s3 honestly his apology letter to her made me feel ill. like there’s a difference between owning your shit — which i do think she deserved an apology for him breaking up with her out of nowhere — and saying everything is your fault. that’s not growth, that’s still self-hatred. and like i understand keeley was going through a lot but i don’t think it was fair to him for him to confess his love & her fuck him while like. presumably knowing she doesn’t want to get back together.

i’m also so fucking livid about the show comparing roy and FUCKING RUPERT????? in that scene, again for some sort of shallow #GirlBoss moment. fuck that fuck the writers fuck like most of the fan attitudes i’ve seen.

also the way the “roy is sorry for not understanding keeley” scene is played — yeah, he should’ve communicated better, but she just started yelling at him out of nowhere & revealed she’d been complaining about him being clingy to all their colleagues. and she never apologizes for not talking to him sooner & her bottling her feelings until she exploded at him???? instead he apologizes for doing….. something she’d never told him she had a problem with.

i’m working on a fic about this aspect but the show has no fucking sympathy for his becoming disabled and it’s so transparent. obviously ted lasso in general is really bad at acknowledging systemic issues — “just be a goodfish!!” :))) — it’s a liberal show & you should overcome adversity by individual work ie therapy & forgiving your oppressors. but like there’s literally no acknowledgment after that scene when he gets shut down by keeley in s1 of how ableism affects roy’s self-image.

as a disabled person whose mobility impairment started with a knee issue in sports, i also think the show did a fucking shit job with his disability in general. like they played it for a laugh — you might not have watched 3x11 yet so feel free to skip this paragraph but “i played injured all the time / you can’t go up stairs!!” followed by jamie still playing injured to, what, make a point about forgiveness?? shows how fucking seriously they took that, and roy was walking up stairs earlier in that very episode.

similarly, “everybody run to the bus… except roy!” earlier in s3 was an emotional moment for me bc like oh they’re acknowledging how this affects his life!! …..and then they showed him running (on pavement!!!) with jamie all the fucking time. like sure not every knee issue is the same as mine, okay, whatever, but either be consistent or throw in a line about him having a good day today or something. jesus fucking christ it’s so ableist & careless & disrespectful.

anyway my hot take is that as they’re written, keeley & roy shouldn’t be together not because, as brenden fucking hunt put it, “he has work he needs to do on himself first,” but because she doesn’t respect him & fundamentally you can’t make compromises with people who think how you are is wrong.

i do really like keeley especially in s1, i think a lot of this is fuck-ups on the writers’ parts that keeley were she a real person either wouldn’t have done or would’ve apologized for. but as it’s written? fucking yikes.

anyway that got really off track from your thoughts lol but i absolutely adored reading this, it was a delight & i would love to hear more any time 💓💓💓

#asks #roy kent #ted lasso tv

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kireimarkeu · 3 years

Text

To You; l.dh

+another repost! did not make any changes to this work :) p.s this is one of my fav fics i have written :)

summary; bored in quarantine, your boyfriend decides to film himself telling you how much he loves you.

3k words

this was like… ½ edited LMFAO so there might,,, be mistakes…??? this was so tiring to make omfg, enjoy!! lol

also i mixed the name donghyuck and haechan bc i couldn’t choose one lmfao ok!!! bye gn enjoy!! :)))))))

warnings: there’s a word f*t in it

+Day 1 3:34PM

Haechan adjusted the camera, making sure he could be seen. Once he was sure the camera was reflecting him properly, he leaned back against his gaming chair.

“Um,” your boyfriend started, looking everywhere but the camera. “This is awkward,” he says, looking back at the camera.

“I started this, since we won’t be able to see each other for a month- because of quarantine,” he explains, “I honestly have no idea what I’m doing right now,” he laughs.

After a few minutes of pure silence, your boyfriend opened his mouth to continue speaking, “I just feel like— I never really show much love to you?”

There were times where your boyfriend would purposely avoid saying ‘I love you’ or avoid holding your hands whenever the both of you were outside. Honestly, you didn’t really mind, knowing Donghyuck was never the type to show affection.

“It’s hard,” he says truthfully, “The boys knows how much I love you, and it sucks that I don’t know how to show you— or tell you, that I love you.”

Haechan bit his lips nervously, “and, I think this video is- or will prove that I love you?”

He wasn’t sure if he was even making sense at this point.

Your boyfriend groaned, throwing his head back, covering his face with his hands. After a while, he looked back at the camera, “you know what, babe? Just watch the whole thing, okay?”

+Day 4 11:47PM

“Hi,” he smiles, letting out a huff, “this is kinda late, I spent the whole night playing games,” he says guiltily, playing with his fingers, looking away from the camera.

He knows that you didn’t like it when he would stay up until ungodly hours just to play games with his friends. You hated how he would put his health aside just to play games.

He brings his hands up to brush his wet hair.

“Uh,” he sighs out loud, pouting. “I feel bad for staying up late last night, so I’m going to spend the whole night with you today,” he laughs.

Another moment of silence pass.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whines.

He sat there in silence, staring at the ground, figuring out on what to say. Should he tell you about his day?

“Well, I woke up at 5PM today,” he tells you, “I ate dinner with my family— mom cooked chicken today!” he says happily, “Then, I went to call you for a bit because I missed you a little too much,” he pouts.

He scratched his head, “then I showered and now this-“ he says, pointing to the camera.

“Um, it has been 4 days and I miss you too much,” he says truthfully, “facetiming isn’t working, I think I’m going crazy,” he laughs.

+Day 5 7:38PM

He was talking halfway, talking about how much he admires you when his phone started ringing.

“Oh?” he turns around to grab his phone from his bed. A smile formed on his face when he saw you facetiming him.

He turned to the camera to show his screen, “Baby, you’re calling me,” he giggles before quickly answering to your facetime.

“Channie~” you whine cutely when your boyfriend answered your facetime, “what are you doing, hyuckie?”

Usually, your boyfriend would complain whenever you would speak in a cute voice, but he secretly likes it. He secretly likes being babied.

He looks at the camera that was recording the both of you.

“Nothing,” he lies, “why did you call me, loser?”

You huff, raising your arms so he could see you laying on the bed. “I’m bored, hyuckie~ entertain me~”

He leans back on his chair, “wanna play games with me?”

Your face beam at his words, “Okay! I’ll get my X-Box ready now.”

Your boyfriend was the one who bought for you the X-Box. Well, it was an old version, but you loved it, nonetheless. It wasn’t like you played daily— you only played with boyfriend.

“I’ll call you in 5, baby,” he tells you, already walking over to turn on the tv.

“Kay, bye-bye, love you, Hyuckie,” you say in a baby voice, bringing your phone closer to press your lips on the camera.

Donghyuck scrunched his nose in disgust, “yeah, yeah,” he says before ending the call.

He quickly grab the camera that was still recording, he moved the camera closer to press a kiss, “I love you too, y/n.”

+Day 7 3:01PM

“Do you remember when you gave me the teddy bear— Oh my gosh, I feel like a youtuber,” he cackles. He shook his head, focusing back to what he was saying.

“So, do you remember when you gave me the teddy bear?” he asks, “wait,” he says, standing up to grab the tiny teddy bear that was sitting on his bed.

You had bought him the bear during your 200th day with him. Donghyuck didn’t really give the reaction you wanted.

“Do you not like it?” you had asked him, disappointment laced in your voice. You didn’t dare look at him, upset with yourself that you had bought something that he didn’t like.

“No, no!” he quickly replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, the other holding the tiny bear. “I love it,” he says.

You knew it was a lie. He didn’t seem to like it.

“I love it,” he says, “I know I didn’t show like I did at that time, but I need it with me every time I go to bed.”

He scratches his head, regretting his actions that has had happened months ago.

“No one has ever bought me a bear before,” he explains, “and when you bought it for me, it just felt— I felt, I felt happy? I felt fulfilled? Do you know what I mean?”

“I really wanted to tell you that I loved your present, especially when you had bought me another present a few days later,”

‘it was to make up for the previous present’ was your reason.

It broke his heart when you said that while handing him a couple bracelet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved your gift, but it was so hard for him.

“I hated myself for not being able to tell you the truth, it’s hard—and it still is,” he sighs, “I hope by doing this, I can assure you that I love you..?”

+Day 10 9:34PM

He was in the middle of filming himself when his mother comes in.

“Donghyuck-ah, what are you doing? Do you want some fruits?” his mother asks, looking at his son, not noticing the camera perched on the dressing table.

Instead of answering his mother’s question, he grabs the camera to film his mother.

“Eomma, say hello to y/n,” Donghyuck says.

His mother raised her eyebrows in surprised, “hello my dear y/n~ how are you?”

Your boyfriend giggle from behind the camera, “tell her how much you miss her,”

“I think I miss you more than Donghyuck does,” she jokes. “What is this for, Donghyuck-ah?”

Haechan placed the camera back on the dressing table, turning to look at his mum.

“I’m making a video for y/n until quarantine is over,” he explains as his mother walks in, wrapping her arm around her son’s shoulder.

His mother’s heart warmed at his son’s words.

“You’re growing up way too fast, our Donghyuck~” she cooed, pulling your boyfriend’s cheeks as he whined in pain.

You would also pinch his cheeks almost every time the both of you are together. Whenever you had Donghyuck’s cheeks between your fingers, he would whine, pulling away from your grip.

“Eomma! I want strawberries!” he shouts after his mother left his room.

He turns his attention back to the camera, “Anyways—”

+Day 17 2:35AM

“I really like your eyes,” Haechan confesses dreamily, “your eyes are the colour of shit,” he jokes, “but they’re so shiny, baby,”

The first time he realizes he’s in love with your glimmering eyes was when he brought you out on a date to star gaze. You were staring at the sky, a smile plastered on your face, amazed at how beautiful the sky was.

When you noticed your boyfriend staring at you, you turned to face him. Your eyes captured his heart. How could someone have such bright eyes?

“Oh! And when you smile, you make my heart beat like crazy!” he chuckles.

The first thing that caught Hyuck’s eyes when he had a crush on you was your bright smile. He believes that was the main reason that he fell for you. How you would always have a beaming smile plastered on your face everywhere you go.

He thinks it’s adorable.

The small dimples that was on the side of your lips whenever you smile.

And your adorable little laugh he adores so much.

Or the little birthmark you had on the corner of your mouth.

After talking about you for a while, he let out a satisfied sigh, “I’m so whip for you, you know?”

After 17 days of making videos for you, it started becoming easier for him to show his love for you.

“Everything you do makes me go crazy, do you realise that?” he asks you, “do you realize that everything you do makes me happy? No, you don’t have to do anything, your presence makes me melt.”

He laughs at how he was flirting, “you’re probably laughing too,”

His laughter died down, letting out a tired sigh, “well, it’s late and I’m going to go to bed before you nag at me some more,”

He let out a yawn, “goodnight y/n, I love you so much, you don’t know how happy you make me,”

+Day 20 2:56PM

This time, it was different.

He was filming himself at McDonalds drive-thru.

“Guess who’s this for?” he asks the camera, his gaze on the road. “Yes, you.”

He turns to look at the camera for a second before paying attention on the road, “you didn’t ask me to get you anything but I wanted to get something for you,” he explains.

He was lying, this was just an excuse to see you, even for a second. Even if it’s 6 feet apart. Even if there was a glass between the both of you.

“I think you know the reason why I’m buying this for you,” he says, referring to the food. “To make you fat! You’re right, y/n,” he jokes.

That was also a lie. You tend to eat less whenever you’re stressed.

After he found out that you had a project, he knew how stress you would be, and decided to get food, making sure you eat healthily.

Your boyfriend would never fail to remind you how much he loves your body. No matter shape or size. He has always made sure you feel loved with who you are.

“I think you know the real reason why I’m coming over,” he adds. When he reaches a red light, he turns to look at the camera with a pout, “I can’t help it, I miss you too much, y/n,” he says in a baby voice.

He grimaces at his actions, shaking his head disapprovingly, “I am never doing that ever again.”

A few minutes later, he reached your house. He had texted you to that he was waiting for you outside.

It took you a while to come out, but when you did, you had one of his hoodies over your body.

He loves it when you wear his clothes, it makes him feel all giddy.

‘One day, I’m going to wear all of your clothes’ he would say whenever you steal his clothes.

You walked over to his car, “what the hell are you doing here, dummy,” you ask him, maintaining the distance.

He grabbed the bag of food from the passenger’s seat and passed it to you from the window of his car.

“Brought you food, you unappreciative bitch,” he tells you while you walk up to grab the food from him.

You open the bag to see your favourite food, “my favourite food, too?!” you squeal, “Haechan best boyfie~”

He rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah, go and finish your project,”

You nodded, the smile not leaving your face.

“I’ll facetime you later?” he asks.

“At 11,” you confirmed.

He nods, signalling for you to go back in. You blow a kiss to your boyfriend before turning around to go back in.

He quickly fishes out his camera, filming you walking back in your house.

“Look at my baby all happy because I brought her food,” he says, “enjoy your food, pretty,”

+Day23 6:07PM

“Day 23,” he breathes out. “I didn’t expect it to go by so fast,” he blurts out.

He puffs his cheeks out, “I don’t want to stop making videos for you, but you would just make fun of me for being soft,”

He had started growing content on making videos for you every day.

“But at the same time, I can finally see you after a month, babe!” he says happily. “I can finally hold you in my arms, we can kiss until the world ends, we can also do it,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Well, he can’t lie he did miss doing it with you.

He sighs, “anyway, when we can finally get together, we can watch movies, then come back to my place and we can cuddle!”

He missed that.

Personally, Donghyuck preferred going over to your place but you preferred going to his place because he had games and a huge bed, and it was just comfortable.

“Ahh,” he groan, “I miss you like crazy! I think I have to end this video early because I wanna facetime you right now,”

He grabs his phone on the table to call you.

“Okay, bye babe, I love you, I’m going to talk to you now!”

+Day 25 4:03AM

“Hi,” donghyuck greet the camera.

Anyone could realise he wasn’t in the best mood.

It took Donghyuck a while to start talking, “we had a fight earlier today,” he says, his voice lace with disappointment and… hurt?

You had texted him just an hour ago, ranting about your homework. When Donghyuck replied to you a minute later, you got angry at him because he was staying up again at ungodly hours.

He didn’t understand why you were so angry because you were awake at the same timing as he is.

“I’m going to give you space, because it’s what you need right now,” he says. “I hope you know I still love you no matter what,”

He bit his lip hesitantly, “I know you don’t like it when I stay up with the boys, but I don’t like you staying up to finish your work either, baby”

He closes his eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I hope you don’t get too stressed over school, eat healthily, and make sure you rest from time to time, babygirl,”

He lets out another sigh before reaching for the camera, “I love you,”

+Day 28 7:36PM

Haechan purses his lips, staring at the camera, “today is a bad day,” he starts.

Today he had woke up a little earlier than normal after talking it out with you a few days ago. He decided to get up early and help his mom with cooking, which only resulted him in getting scolded by his mother for making a mess.

After that, he decided to play games with his friends, however despite playing for 5 hours straight, he didn’t get a single win.

Now, he has tried to contact you, but you have not replied to him. Probably busy with school.

He let out a huff, “take a break y/n,” he whines, “focus on me too~”

Letting out a pout he shakes his head, “kidding babe, get those A’s!”

“Well, now I don’t really have anything to do so I’m going to facetime you again, bye babe!”

+Day 30 10:18AM

“Hyuckie!” you call out, running to your boyfriend. When you reached him, you threw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, making him stumble back a few steps as he grabs on your waist.

You hid your face in his neck, breathing in his scent. He smells so good.

“You’re not going to let go of me until I say so,” you mumble, tightening your grip around his neck.

He chuckles at you, “I won’t let go of you until you say so,”

Donghyuck was satisfied with having his arms wrapped around your waist, his face covered in your hair.

After a few moments of the both of you just holding each other, you finally pull away from your boyfriend.

“Y/n,” he says, making you hum.

“Wait,” you stop him, making him stare at you with wide eyes as he froze on the spot.

“Can you kiss me first?” you ask. His eyes soften at your request. Your fingers trace his bottom lips, “I miss your pretty lips.”

He smiles at your words and nodded. Pulling you closer by your waist, he pressed his lips against yours. Your hands rest on his chest while you both share a needy kiss.

After a few minutes, you pull away, breathless with crimson red cheeks.

Haechan raised his eyebrows as he resumed, “I made something for you,”

You gasped, “what is it?”

He fishes out a CD player. The CD held videos of him explaining how much he loves and appreciates you throughout the whole month.

He passes you the gift.

“Watch this at home?” he tells you.

You grab the CD from his grip, “okay? What is this all about?”

“Just promise me you’ll watch it at home?” he asks again, staring down at you.

“I will! I will!”

After making videos of himself for 29 days straight, Donghyuck have concluded that he was so utterly in love with you. He was so in love with you that he didn’t know how to express how much he adores you.

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

Text

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis @carryonmywaywardbucky @swiftlymoniquesblog @moosewinchester @sams-sass @thinkinghardhardlythinking @jotink78 @winifrede @writingforthelonelysoul @turtletaylor98 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @peridottea91 @tvdspngirl314

TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern

if you’d like to be added (or removed) please let me know!

#sam winchester x reader #mads300madones #333 badass followers #spnfluffbingo2021 #Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #sam x reader #sam winchester x female!reader #sam winchester smut #enemies to lovers #sam winchester fluff #secret dating #sam winchester x you #sam x y/n #spn #supernatural fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #text

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

BRIGHT (2)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you and jungkook share a moment in a bookstore. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names…bc its me

“Oh, lighten up Jeon,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “You look like someone told you that your cat died.”

“The only kitty he wants won’t give him the time of day,” Mina grins, earning herself a glare from Jungkook.

“More like I can't get her time of day because her stupid best friend has a stick up her ass,” Jungkook mutters.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Mei observes, “Our baby tattoo artist pining over a girl…”

“If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now, Mei,” Yoongi says pointedly, “Now stop wasting time meddling in Jungkook’s love life, Jin will have all of our heads-”

“Love life? I don’t have a love life,” Jungkook protests, eyes adorably round.

“And that’s why you’re so broody today, honey,” Mina teases, “More so than usual at least.”

“I am not broody,” Jungkook grumbles, turning his back on his laughing coworkers and friends. He can’t help but smile at their teasing.

“Oh, lighten up, Kookie,” Mei says lightly, clapping his shoulder, “If it makes you feel any better, that girl couldn’t stop staring at you at Hobi’s birthday. And she definitely wants a piece of this.”

Jungkook ignores the raucous laughter of his friends (which only increases when Jin comes out from the backroom to add on to his suffering) and the reddening of his cheeks as he gets ready for his full day of tattoo consultations and appointments.

Jungkook’s day ends about an hour earlier than he had anticipated- his last client for the day had to reschedule due to a last minute conflict. That’s fine by him. It gives him time to stop by the bookstore a few blocks away from the tattoo parlor before it closes.

Jungkook tries his best to read at least one new book a month. He’s known the older shop owner, Jia and her young son, Jae-sung, for years now, as he had basically grown up with Jia from childhood.

He loves the quiet of the store and the immediate scent of vanilla and cedar that surrounds him as soon as he walks in. The bookstore itself has a vintage sort of feel, with dimmed lights, old shelves of mahogany and candles placed throughout the store.

Jungkook always brings croissants from the bakery nearby for Jia and little Jae-sung. Usually when he comes by, the bookstore is empty (or close to it).

Jae-sung screeches when he sees Jungkook walk in the door and immediately runs up to him, hugging his legs. Jungkook crouches, ruffling his hair fondly and Jae-sung is nearly bouncing off of the heels of his feet.

“Mommy say she have new book for you, Kookie!” Jae-sung beams, eyeing the box of croissants in Jungkook’s free hand.

“Does she?” Jungkook muses, “Your mommy always knows what kind of books I like.”

“Me too! Me too!”

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jia’s voice filters through the store as she approaches, “It’s been a while.”

“It took me a while to finish the last book. But so worth it,” He says apologetically, “I also brought croissants. Enjoy.”

“You spoil us,” Jia rolls her eyes, “The new arrivals are in the back, third aisle from the left. You know the drill.”

Jia has known Jungkook since he was a baby in diapers- she’s been his aunt’s close friend for years and years now. Jungkook likes to joke that he likes Jia more than his own aunt, and Jia always reprimands him (without really meaning it).

He thought the bookstore was empty, save for Jia and Jae-sung. But he’s clearly mistaken, when he sees a figure in an olive green sweater and black jeans perusing through the new arrivals with their bottom lip tucked between their teeth in concentration.

He recognizes them immediately and when the person raises their head in curiosity, he sees your wide eyes and a shy smile starting to pull across your lips.

You’re here, in his favorite bookstore where he feels like he’s at home. If he was looking for a sign, then this was it.

“Hi,” You say softly, waving your fingers at him, “So you like reading, huh?”

You visibly cringe and Jungkook chuckles. Your cheeks feel warm when you take him in, swirls and dots of his tattoos peeking out of his black leather jacket and beckoning you closer to him. The three hoops in his left ear glint with the light and the dangling earring on his right ear dangles with the movement of his head. His hair is tied back into a ponytail, accentuating the curve of his jaw and his soft dimples.

Your breath is stolen away when you meet his eyes, deep brown and murky, popping against the peach eyeshadow on his eyelids.

You nearly swoon on the spot before you get your bearings. Maybe he’d catch you if your knees buckled, you think dryly. How embarrassing.

“I try reading something new once a month,” Jungkook replies, pulling you out of your reverie, “And I just like the bookstore in general. Sometimes I like to just come here and hang out with Jia and Jae-sung.”

“Oh! Jia makes my favorite lavender chamomile tea. There’s nothing like it,” You say a little dreamily, “Jae-sung is a cutie. That boy can just look at you and you’d be putty in his hands. Kinda like you.”

The last bit slips out of your mouth without you meaning for it to.

“Kinda like me, huh,” Jungkook smirks, eyes glittering, “It would be fun to see if you’d be putty in my hands, wouldn’t it?”

“The world may never know,” You mumble sheepishly and avoid his eyes again, “What kind of book are you looking for?”

“The one you’re holding, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, looking past your shoulder for another copy of the same book.

“Are you looking for this book just because I’m reading it or because you’ve been genuinely eyeing it?” You ask boldly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Jungkook snorts, walking past you to grab the book off of the shelf.

“So I’ve been told,” Your eyes flash, “We should do a boozy book club.”

“Is it a book club if it’s just the two of us?”

“It can be whatever we want it to be,” You shrug, “Besides, don’t you wanna hang out with me?” You tilt your head and Jungkook’s resolve weakens. His heart does something funny- is this how it’s supposed to be?

“Of course I wanna hang out with you, baby,” Jungkook murmurs smoothly, “C’mon, let’s go have some of Jia’s tea. And a croissant too, if Jae hasn’t eaten them already.”

Jungkook glares at Jia the entire time that she’s making tea for both of you. He knows her sly, curious eyes and was unable to keep the surprise off of her face when you had both walked down the stairs together.

She even had the audacity to wink at him. He hopes that the family groupchat doesn’t start blowing up when Jia inevitably informs his aunt and mother about this new development.

“Kookie,” Jae-sung whispers (loudly) when you step away to use the bathroom, “Is dat your girlfriend?”

“What?” Jungkook hisses, “Who told you that?”

“My mommy say I ask you! I not know!”

“No, Jae, that’s not my girlfriend,” Jungkook mumbles, shooting Jia another death glare. She only smiles smugly at him from her spot behind the counter.

Jia leaves him alone for the most part when you return and take your seat next to him. He can still feel her eyes on you both as she washes teacups, watching like a hawk.

“These croissants are so good,” You nearly moan, “Where’d you get them?”

“There’s a bakery near the tattoo parlor,” Jungkook says, “You should come by sometime.”

“The bakery or the parlor?”

“Both?”

“I’ve only been there a few times,” You muse, “I hear you’re the best tattoo artist there. From the mouth of Hobi and Jin themselves.”

“Don’t let Mina and Mei hear you say that,” Jungkook says weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are a little pink and you resist chuckling to yourself.

“I’ve always wanted to get a second piercing,” You trail off, “But never really committed to it.”

“What would you want to get? We do piercings, too,” Jungkook says.

“Cartilage? Industrial? I don’t know,” You shrug, sipping your tea.

“Mina usually has a good eye for that,” Jungkook admits, “Now you have more of a reason to stop by.”

“Oh, I already had a reason to stop by the parlor,” You say brazenly with a sweet smile.

“Is that so?” Jungkook says, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You hum and continue to sip your tea, wondering if he can somehow hear the loud rattling of your eager heart in your ribcage.

Conversation with him comes so easily and you don’t know when the last time you had spent this long with him was. Something always seems to interrupt you both when you eventually do find yourselves alone with each other during outings with friends. But this time, it’s just you and him tucked away in this bookstore.

The sun has long gone down and Jia was about to close the bookstore for the day. In fact, the only reason she kept it open for this long was because of you both. You apologize profusely with worried eyes when you realize the time and see Jae-sung fast asleep in his mother’s arms.

She waves you off, giving Jungkook a lingering look that you don’t understand.

“I’ll be back soon,” You promise Jia in a soft voice, so as to not wake Jae-sung, “Be well, Jia.”

She bids you both goodnight, and unbeknownst to you, she shoots Jungkook a simple text. It states: “keep her close, i like her”.

Jungkook ignores it in favor of focusing on you.

“How you getting home, baby?” Jungkook asks as you both walk up the block shoulder to shoulder.

“Hmm… I’m supposed to meet Sora for dinner but she said she’s stuck at work,” You murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself as you scroll on your phone, “But I was just on social media and it looks like she’s getting drinks with her other friends…”

You look at him with a frown tugging at your lips and your eyes wide. “Maybe it was a last minute thing,” You mumble to yourself.

“Or maybe she lied to you,” Jungkook says sharply. You only look at him in silence for a few moments with furrowed brows.

“Maybe there was a reason,” You shrug, “Why would she lie about that?”

Because she’s Sora, and she just would. But Jungkook stays silent. You don’t need to hear about how he dislikes your best friend, at least not yet. Not when you’re not ready to hear it.

“Forget about her,” Jungkook says easily, “Lemme take you home, baby.”

“I’m not riding that metal death contraption,” You say flatly, “You just got it! Like two weeks ago! You don’t even have an extra helmet, and forget a helmet, I need elbow pads and knee pads-”

“Will you relax,” Jungkook says, putting your books in the small basket he built into the front of the motorcycle.

“No, I will not relax, Jeon Jungkook!” You nearly screech, “This is so dangerous, we could both fall in the road and then what? Become roadkill for the next soccer mom van to run us both over? Death by soccer mom, what a way to go-”

“Are you done?” Jungkook says dryly.

“No, actually, I’m not done-”

“You trust me, baby?” Jungkook asks, hand on your shoulder. You can’t even properly appreciate the warmth of his large hand over your jacket.

“Of course I trust you, I don’t trust that,” You point at the motorcycle accusingly and Jungkook rolls his eyes. You can already feel your resolve weakening. He wordlessly places his own helmet over your own head and you glare at him, about to start your tirade again.

“You take mine,” Jungkook murmurs, “And hold on to me.”

“You can’t just give me your helmet, what if you fall? Or worse, get pulled over?”

“Or worse, get pulled over, are you joking-”

“Jungkook! Be serious!”

“I am being serious! You said you only live ten minutes from here, just relax. I won’t let anything happen to either of us,” Jungkook says, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“If anything happens, it’s your head on a platter and I’m bringing it to the tattoo parlor.”

“How can you do that if we both die?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You say, but a laugh escapes your lips. Jungkook sits on his bike and looks at you expectantly.

“C’mon, baby,” Jungkook coaxes you and you awkwardly sit behind him, making sure that your legs don’t touch his and your arms are safely away from him.

“If you sit like that, you’ll definitely fall off,” Jungkook snorts, “Wrap your arms around me.”

You hesitate, afraid of touching him like this for whatever reason. He unnerves you and you feel completely exposed like this. You’ve never really been this close to anyone, at least anyone who made you feel the way Jungkook makes you feel.

Biting the bullet, you tensely wrap your arms around his narrow waist loosely. “Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, “Tighter, baby. I don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

Your stomach flips at his words, subconsciously wrapping your arms around his narrow waist even more tightly. Your fingers graze the hard press of his tummy over his jacket and you almost moan at how warm and strong he feels. He smells nice, like Sunday morning laundry.

“Ugh, you’re annoying-” And then you shriek as he pulls away from the road and shoots off into the night with you plastered against his backside.

“See that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jungkook says, taking the helmet off of you. He’s met with a glare but you sigh in defeat.

“No, I guess it wasn’t. But I never want you driving this hunk of death without a helmet for yourself,” You say, poking his chest.

“You should be nicer to her,” Jungkook says, taking your finger in his large hand.

“You’re right, it’s you that I should be mean to,” You roll your eyes. You wonder if Jungkook could feel your heart slamming in your chest (in fear, adrenaline and excitement) as you hung tight to him. You had refused to look up, pressing your face into his back and squeezing your eyes shut the entire way. Jungkook had only chuckled.

The heat in your eyes melts away quickly once Jungkook helps you off of the motorcycle. “Thanks for taking me home, Jungkook,” You murmur, “I’m glad I ran into you at the bookstore.”

“Any time, baby,” Jungkook says. A strand of dark hair falls from his ponytail and into his face. You reach your fingers up to thread through his hair before pushing it back behind his ear for him.

“Get home safe,” You say, with stars in your eyes, “Can I hug you?” When he nods, and before you can change your mind or convince yourself out of it, you wrap your arms around him. And before he can properly return it, you dash into your apartment building while calling out “text me when you get home!”

Hours later, when he’s in the comfort of his home, he decides that he likes the way your spicy vanilla scented perfume clings to his leather jacket.

tags: @kookdbean @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #badboy jk #badboy jungkook

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dadbodosamu · 3 years

Text

what’s my name? [daddy] || part 2

Stepdad Osamu x Cis!Fem Reader

WARNINGS: pregnancy, degradation, squirting, vomit (nonsexual), cheating, toxic relationship??, age gap (Osamu’s in his thirties and reader is 18), voyeurism, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), cockwarming, exactly one (1) spank, overstimulation, tummy bulge, pseudoincest, mentions of threesome, mentions of double penetration, dacryphilia, breeding?? maybe?, thigh riding

3.6k words

tagging @candy-hime bc i love u bb

part one || part two || part three

You tap your fingernails against the porcelain sink as your phone counts down from five minutes. Each second seems slower than the last and at this point, four minutes and 52 seconds, you’re ready to throw your phone across the room.

“What does it say?” Osamu asks through the door. You want to scream.

“Nothing. It doesn’t say anything yet,” you snap. You take a deep breath and continue. “It takes five minutes. Four and a half minutes left.”

“Can I come in?” He asks, softly.

You hesitate before slowly unlocking the door and letting him in.

The already small bathroom feels that much smaller with Osamu’s large frame in it. You try not to feel claustrophobic as Osamu grabs your hand.

“It’s all going to be okay, no matter what the test says,” he says.

You’re overcome with the urge to laugh, cry, and scream all at once. Of course he thinks it’ll all be okay, he’s not the one possibly pregnant with his step-father’s baby.

Three minutes and 48 seconds.

Your mother was going to be crushed. Her only child, knocked up at eighteen by none other than her step-father.

You bite your lip to hold back tears as you think of your mother.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, pulling you into a tight hug. You want to cringe at his touch but your body instinctively relaxes in his hold.

“Mom…” you say, “she’s going to be crushed.”

“And what about ya? How do ya feel?” He asks.

“Sick,” you answer shortly. “Anxious. Like I’m going to throw up any second now. How could I do this to her?”

Osamu doesn’t respond, just continues to rub your back as the seconds count down.

Your heart stops when your timer goes off.

“It’s ready,” you say, pulling away from Osamu. You grab the pregnancy test and take a deep breath before glancing down at it.

Positive.

You drop the test like it’s bit you. Oh god, it’s positive. You’re pregnant with Osamu’s child.

Osamu picks the test up right as you shove past him to vomit into the toilet.

“Yer pregnant,” he says. You gag. “We’re going to have a baby.”

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve and look at him. His eyes are glossy and his lips are stretched into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen. It makes you want to vomit again.

“Why are you smiling?” You demand. Your throat burns as the acid in your stomach threatens to come up.

“I’m going to have a baby,” he says, grabbing your shoulders. “I’m going to be a father.”

You want to attack him.

“How could you be happy about this?” You hiss. “This is terrible. I don’t want this.”

“That’s not what ya were sayin’ when I was balls deep in yer cunt last night,” Osamu says. “Or any night, for that matter.”

“Do you not care at all what my mom is going to say?” You demand. “Have you thought for one second about anything but yourself? You’re my step-father, for fuck’s sake!”

“That hasn’t stopped ya before,” Osamu says. “I don’t care about that. I care about you and this baby. Our baby.”

Your face softens at his words. “Other people care. My mom’s going to care. She’ll go crazy when we tell her. What if she calls the cops? What are we going to do?”

“What we do isn’t illegal,” Osamu says. “Immoral, maybe. But not illegal.”

“She’s going to hate me,” you whimper. Osamu sighs and pulls you into his chest tightly.

“What do ya want, sweetheart?” He asks, softly. “Daddy has to know what ya want so he can get it for ya.”

“You. I want you,” you say. Osamu squeezes you lightly. “I just want to be with you all the time, daddy.”

“Ya know daddy can’t say no to ya, baby girl,” he says. “We’ll tell yer mom tonight, okay?”

“Everything?” You ask, looking up at him. He nods. “She’ll kick us out. Let’s just tell her I’m pregnant, not everything yet. Let’s just wait.”

“Whatever ya want, baby girl,” Osamu says. “Ya just tell her yer pregnant and I’ll support ya if she gets mad.”

“I need to lay down,” you mumble, pulling away from him. Osamu carefully leads you to your bed, helping you down slowly.

“Can we cuddle, please?” You ask softly.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat first, sweetheart?” He asks. You shake your head.

“Jus’ wan’ you t’ hold me,” you say through a yawn. “Wan’ daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” Osamu says. You move over to make room for his large frame in your small bed. “Daddy’s got you.” He wraps strong arms around you and presses a kiss to your forehead as he holds you tightly.

Your mom comes home to you and Osamu on the couch, you with your head casually in Osamu’s lap as he combed his fingers through your hair. This wasn’t an uncommon sight, and your mom went straight into telling the two of you about her day.

“This patient was crazy, literally! He’s outside smoking a cigarette, meanwhile his blood sugar is through the roof! Like, this man is dead, he just doesn’t know it yet!” Your mom exclaims, slamming the door behind her.

“Hey, mom,” you greet, sitting upright. “Dinner’s ready whenever you want to eat.”

“We decided to wait on ya tonight,” Osamu added, standing up with a stretch.

“You two are too sweet,” she says, smiling widely. “You didn’t have to wait for me, you know I’m okay eating alone.”

“Well, I have some big news for after dinner, so I convinced Daddy to wait,” you say.

“Ooo, sounds exciting! Well, let’s eat so you can share your news!” Your mom says, excitedly.

The table is already set perfectly, plates of your mom’s favourites filling empty spaces and a bottle of her favourite wine in the center.

“Goodness! All my favourites? Y/n, you’re not trying to butter me up, are you? I’d almost think you were going to tell me you’re pregnant or something,” she says, taking a seat.

You and Osamu both let out forced laughter as you join her.

“It’s just what you deserve, Mom,” you say.

“Well, thank you, sweet pea,” she says, beaming at you. “And thank you, too, Osamu. I’m sure you cooked most of this.”

“It’s no problem,” Osamu says. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

“Itadakimasu.”

The three of you fill your plates and glasses, you pointedly turning down the wine your mom offers you. She gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything.

“So, what’s the news?” Your mom asks as she finishes her last onigiri.

You glance at Osamu.

“Mom, I’m pregnant,” you say.

“Pregnant?” Your mom asks. “Goodness, I-I need a minute.”

She steps out the back door, sliding the door shut behind her.

Osamu looks over at you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks. You nod.

“She’s handling it better than I thought,” you say. “I thought I’d be packing my bag right about now. I think I’m going to step outside with her.”

Osamu kisses your forehead before letting you walk out the back door.

Your mom is sitting on the porch swing, face in her hands.

“Mom?” You call. When she looks up, you can tell she’s been crying.

“How did this happen?” She asks.

“Didn’t think I’d have to explain the birds and the bees to you, Mom,” you tease, halfheartedly.

“Do you have some secret boyfriend I don’t know about?” She asks, ignoring you.

“It was just some dumb, one night stand,” you say, sitting next to her. “Hell, I can barely remember the guy’s face.”

The lies slip off your tongue easier than they would’ve before you and Osamu became involved. You think of every night you’d said you were staying with friends when you were really in some cheap motel with Osamu and wince.

“What’s his name?” Your mom asks.

“Does it matter?” You ask. “He won’t be involved at all.”

“Do you even know his name? God, I didn’t think you’d be so dumb,” your mom says. Her words hit like a punch to the gut.

“It was…” you hesitate. “It was a mistake.” As if anything you and Osamu had done was a mistake. The words taste like bile in your throat. “A dumb mistake.”

“We taught you better than to just sleep with random people. Or at least, I thought we did,” she spits. “At least let me know the name.”

“I’m not going to apologise for being human,” you say. “And I won’t be telling you the name.”

“You’ll tell me or you’ll leave,” she says. Her threat rolls off of you like water.

“Then I’ll leave,” you say, standing up. You open the back door.

“If you leave, don’t come back!” Your mom exclaims.

“Gladly!” You shoot back. You slam the door behind you. Osamu is immediately at your side.

“I’m leaving!” You exclaim. “I should just tell her the full truth, see how she likes that! She couldn’t blame me for it, after all, I’m too dumb!”

“The full truth?” Your mom asks, sliding the door open.

You turn on your heel to face her as Osamu stands between you two, ready for a fight to break out.

“Oh, you’d fucking hate it,” you taunt, crossing your arms. “It’s dirty and perverted and so fucking good!”

“You probably got knocked up by some pervert on the streets! That’s why you won’t tell me his name, you probably don’t even know it!”

“Miya Osamu!”

All three of you freeze.

“Huh?” Your mom blinks slowly. She looks at Osamu, then at you. “The. Two. Of. You? The father?”

Your mom seems to buffer as she continuously looks between you two.

“Get out.”

“Mom, wait, I can explain,” you beg, grabbing her hands. She jerks away from you. “I didn’t mean it!”

“You’re sick,” she says, lip curling. Her face pales as she looks at Osamu. “You raised her, you bastard! From a little girl! Oh my- oh my god, she calls you ‘daddy’.” Your mom’s face turns a sickening green. “You get off on that, don’t you, you sick fuck?! My daughter!”

“Mom, it’s not like-“ She cuts you off.

“Y/n, did he force you? Has he been grooming you this whole time?” She turns to face Osamu again. “Get out of here, you motherfucker!”

“Mom, I love him!” You shout. She freezes and robotically turns towards you.

“He raised you,” she whimpers. “He’s probably been grooming you since the day you met.”

“Mom, he’s never done anything I didn’t want,” you say. “I’m the one that controls the relationship.”

“I love her, too,” Osamu says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I know it’s sick, but I can’t help it.”

Your mom stays silent for a moment.

“I need you both out,” she says. “You can pack a bag but you both need to be out within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Mom, I’m sorry,” you say, wiping away a stray tear. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Give me time,” she says before retreating to her bedroom.

You sniffle as you wipe your face with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you a bag packed. Atsumu already has his guest room set up for us. We’ll be okay, baby,” Osamu says, holding your shoulders. He kisses your forehead before leading you to your room.

Your mom doesn’t reappear until Osamu is already carrying your bag to the car.

“You’re my daughter, and I’ll always love you, Y/n,” she says, standing across the room from you. “But this isn’t something that we’ll be able to overcome. You and Osamu can get the rest of your things tomorrow while I’m at work, but I don’t want to see either of you again. Leave your keys on the table when you leave.”

“I’m sorry this happened,” you say, unable to stop your tears. “I really am, Mom. If I could change it, I would. I love you.”

“I hope you find happiness,” she says. Osamu’s hands land on your shoulders from behind and your mom’s face crumbles. “Goodbye.”

She watches you and Osamu leave the house. The lock clicks behind you as soon as the door closes.

“I wish this hadn’t happened like this,” Osamu says as he starts the car. You nod.

“I didn’t want to tell her like this,” you mumble. “She deserved the truth, but not like this.”

“I love you,” Osamu says, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“I love you,” you say, smiling sadly. “I guess I wouldn’t change it if that meant not having you.”

Atsumu’s apartment is much smaller than your mom’s house.

“There’s my favourite niece!” Atsumu exclaims, hugging you tightly and spinning you around before placing you back on the ground. “Or my favourite sister-in-law? I don’t care, yer my favourite girl.”

Despite how sad you feel, Atsumu manages to pull a genuine smile and laugh out of you.

“Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim as Osamu passes you with your bags.

“Ah, so I still get to be Uncle,” he says, smiling. It doesn’t shock you with how nonchalantly Atsumu takes the news.

“Of course,” you say. “If Daddy still gets to be Daddy, you’re still Uncle.”

“Come on in, little one, let’s get ya out of the night air before the bugs get ya,” Atsumu says, leading you in.

Osamu already had your pajamas in hand when you walked in. After showering and changing quickly, you join the twins on the couch, squeezing in between them. Your hand ghosts over Osamu’s thigh before he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers.

“So… I think it’s gonna to be a girl,” Atsumu says, draping his arm across your shoulders. “Any bets?”

“With our luck?” Osamu chuckles. “Twin boys.”

You rub your hand over your stomach. “I don’t really care one way or the other,” you say. “But I want twins.”

“What do ya think it’ll be?” Osamu asks.

“I think maybe one of each,” you say. “But that might just be wishful thinking.”

Atsumu let out a loud yawn.

“Well, it’s time for me to go to bed. I have practice in the morning. Help yerselves to anything in the fridge,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Let me know if ya need anything, little one.”

“Thanks for letting us stay here, Uncle Tsumu,” you say.

“Anything fer my favourite girl,” he says. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “G’night, little one.”

“Night,” Osamu says.

“Good night, Tsumu,” you say. Atsumu stumbles away with another yawn, leaving you and Osamu in the television-lit living room alone.

You climb into Osamu’s lap as soon as you hear Atsumu’s door click closed. He wraps his arms around you firmly and looks down at you.

“What do ya need, baby?” Osamu asks. “I know yer wantin’ something, baby girl.”

“I’m so tired, Daddy,” you say. You let out a small yawn. “I just want to be close to you.” You innocently shift in his hold, grinding against his soft dick. It twitches lightly.

“Ya wanna sit on Daddy’s cock, huh? Is that what ya want, sweetheart?” Osamu asks, rolling his hips. His cock hardens under you almost instantly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan softly. “Want your cock in me.”

“Yer such a naughty girl,” Osamu says. “Wantin’ yer daddy’s cock where Uncle Tsumu could walk in any minute.” You let out a small moan at the thought. “Oh? Ya want Uncle Tsumu to catch us? Want him to see Daddy filling up yer cute, little cunt? Or maybe you want Tsumu to fill ya up, huh, baby girl? Both of us at the same time, fillin’ both yer little holes so well.”

“Please, please,” you gasp, grinding against his thighs. “Wanna be full. So full, Daddy, please.”

“Such a little slut,” Osamu says, guiding your hips. “It’s not enough to fuck yer daddy, you wanna fuck yer uncle, too? Just tryin’ to get the whole family, huh?”

You nod. “Want Daddy and Uncle Tsumu!” You exclaim. Osamu claps a hand over your mouth.

“Uncle Tsumu is bein’ so nice t’ let us stay here and you wanna wake him up? I thought my little girl knew how to be polite,” Osamu says. Your thighs shake as a knot forms in your stomach.

“Daddy,” you whine, rolling your hips faster. “Close.”

“Is my baby gonna cum on Daddy’s thigh like a bitch in heat?” Osamu coos. “Come on, baby, cum on Daddy’s thigh like a good girl.”

“Daddy,” you moan. Osamu kisses you hard as you moan louder.

“Fuck, yer soakin’ me, sweetheart,” Osamu breathes as you cum on his thighs. You bite your lip to keep quiet. “Ya want Daddy’s cock now, sweetie?”

You nod. You stand on wobbly legs to kick your pajama shorts and panties off as Osamu pushes his shorts down just enough to reveal his heavy cock.

“Daddy, I wanna taste you,” you say, falling to your knees in front of him. “Please, Daddy, you look so good.”

“Go ahead, baby,” he says, patting your hair as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock.

You lean down to lick along the throbbing vein that runs down the left side of his cock before you take the purpling tip into your mouth.

“Fuck, good girl,” he hisses, tangling his fingers in your hair. He isn’t pushing down (yet), but his hands left no room to pull back. You circled the tip, moaning as a spurt of precum landed on your tongue.

“Come on, suck it like a good girl,” he grunts, forcing your head lower. You gag as he hits the back of your throat and Osamu lets out a long, low moan. “Might just fuck yer face since ya can’t listen.”

You place your hands on either of his thighs, signaling for him to go ahead with his plan.

“Oh, yer such a good girl for Daddy,” he groans. He holds your head in place as he thrusts into your open mouth, moaning when your throat tightens around his length.

“Fuck, so good,” he grits out. He pulls your head back and moans at the sight of your swollen lips and glassy eyes. “Tongue out.” Your jaw drops and your tongue lols out. He pats his cock against your tongue seconds before cum spurts out, landing on your lips and in your open mouth.

“Swallow for me, sweetheart,” he moans. You swallow the cum in your mouth before licking your lips for the extra that didn’t quite make it in your mouth.

“Wan’ your cock, please, Daddy,” you whine as Osamu wipes cum off your chin. He sticks his cum-coated thumb in your mouth and you suck it clean.

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu grunts, lifting you up into his lap. He slowly inched you down on his cock.

“More, Daddy, more,” you beg as he slowly bottoms out. “Fuck me.”

“Be good and sit on Daddy’s cock for a minute,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. He pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head.

You whine as you squirm around, trying to get Osamu to finally fuck you. He slaps your ass as you fidget.

“The more ya move, the longer we’ll stay like this,” Osamu says. “Now be good and be still.”

You pout as you relax into Osamu’s chest. It was agonising as his cock stretched you. Your walls were throbbing and fluttering around him, desperate for even the smallest movement.

“Daddy, please,” you beg, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I need you.”

Osamu presses down on your lower stomach where his cock was deep inside you. You moaned.

“Feel how deep Daddy is?” He breathes, thumb circling your clit. “Look how swollen ya look with just my cock. In a few weeks, you’ll be swollen with my baby.”

You moan. Osamu’s thumb moves faster on your clit.

“Daddy,” you whine. “I-I feel weird.”

“Hold on just a second, baby,” Osamu says. You gasp as he presses on your clit. The feeling in the pit of your stomach heightens. You almost feel like you’re going to explode.

You open your mouth to tell Osamu when he rolls his hips. You let out a loud moan as your juices squirt out, soaking Osamu’s shorts and part of his shirt.

“Fuck, look how messy ya are,” Osamu growls. You moan loudly as your pussy gushes again and you fall limp into Osamu’s chest, tears streaming down your face.

“Squirted all over Daddy like a good girl,” Osamu praises. His thumb hasn’t stopped and you still haven’t stopped cumming on his cock.

“Fuck,” Osamu growls. He grips your hips tightly and fucks into you roughly.

Your skin burns where his slaps against yours. You cry out as your head falls against his shoulder.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he grunts. The nasty squelching sounds only highlight his words. You moan as Osamu plays with your overstimulated clit.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you cry as he fucks you.

“Open,” He orders. Your mouth drops open without a second thought as he shoves wet fingers down your throat. You gag as you suck on them. “Good girl.”

Tears stroll down your face as Osamu relentlessly thrusts into your cunt.

“Gonna fill yer sloppy, little, cunt up,” Osamu grunts. Your walls clench around him. “Oh, Daddy’s messy slut likes that, huh?” Your walls clench again.

“Fuck, gonna fill ya up,” he groans. His cock twitches deep inside you seconds before he cums.

“So good, daddy,” you moan as you ride him through his orgasm.

Osamu hisses once you’ve milked him dry, overstimulated and sensitive.

“How’d’ya like the show, Tsumu?” Osamu asks.

Your head jerks around to see Atsumu standing across the room, dick hard and heavy in his hands.

“Oh, it was great,” Atsumu says. “Liked that part at the beginning. Something about taking us both at the same time?”

#samu thoughts #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya smut #miya osamu #cai writes #timeskip osamu #timeskip miya osamu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu imagines #wmn?d

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zorosq · 2 years

Text

realization ; sabo

↻ fluff, ooc sabo (?), a little bit angsty?, slight suggestive at the end, grammatical mistakes :<

↻ pairing ↬ sabo x gn!reader!

@ceila-francesica-randomnes asked: Could you do Sabo x reader with reader being super oblivious about his advances towards her. Until it finally clicks at the worst moment possible.

a/n i hope this is good bcs i dont rlly know how to write flirting stuff 😭 i hope you dont mind me making this a gender neutral since i dont rlly mention any gender in this p.s this ended up a little bit too fluffy but idm <3

"Hey, Y/n,"

You quickly turned your attention away from your work. "Sabo! Did you just come back?" You asked the blond with a smile. Cute. He thought. "Mhmm... so, are you free tonight?" He asked. That damned smile is really going to be the death of you. "I am, actually! Why? You want to hang out with me?"

"Y-Yeah, we haven't hang out with each other in so long after all," You could see his smile faltered. Before you could say another word, Koala walks in and had already started nagging at Sabo for not answering his transponder snail. "Dragon is calling for you! You should at least listen to what we have to say before deciding not to answer at all! Go and make your report," She scolded. Sabo brings his hands up in defeat before leaving.

You chuckled at the sight and commented, "Tough, huh? Taking care of a man-child?" You joked. She laughed at your joke before sighing for the second time she was here. "Anyway, I need to go now. To make sure he wasn't making any sorts of detour,"

You nodded at her and with that, she left.

"Oh, fuck!" You cursed. The knife you had been using to cut the vegetables had accidentally cut your finger, making it bleed. It wasn't a deep cut. You were glad about that. "Y/n? What's wrong?" The blond asked.

"It's nothing, I just cut myself. Nothing you need to worry about," You said. He quickly took your hand and wash it at the sink. "Of course I would be worried," He sighed. When he had finally washed the blood away, he puts a small bandage on it before bringing it up to his lips, kissing it gently. "You really need to be more careful you know," He sighed once again.

"Let me help you," The male said. Sabo had suggested that the two of you should make your own dinner. Thank goodness that the head chef had let you use their kitchen.

You gave him a quick nod before continuing with your cooking. You started chatting about random stuff until he had come up with the topic of love. "So, anyone that caught your eye?" He asked.

Sabo knew. He knew that you actually liked him. You hadn't been too discreet about it anyway. "No one," You answered, hoping that he would just take your answer and move to another topic. "Liar,"

That boiled your blood. "What's up with you?!" You asked, throwing the knife away. "What? I only said that you lied. Obviously, I've seen the way you looked at me," He answered. "So what? So what if I liked you? Was it wrong?! And why do you even have to bring it up?! I know damn well that you love Koala!" You argued.

Before you know it, your body was slammed against the kitchen's wall, knocking the air out of you. Sabo rested his head on your shoulder. His hold on your arms tighten at how you had thought he was in love with Koala. "How can you... say that... haven't I been obvious enough about my feelings?"

Then it finally clicked to you. All these times, he had actually been flirting with you. Sometimes just caring about you a little more than he did before. Like that one time when he stood in front of you protectively when you were confronted with the marine.

"S-Sabo..." Your lips quivered as you spoke. He lets out a chuckle. "You're so stupid you know... always making me worry about you... and you didn't even notice that I love you,"

"What was the point of flirting with you if I was in love with Koala?"

He finally brings his face up so that he was looking at you properly. One of his hand went up to cup your cheek, caressing it gently. You could feel the love that he pour into the touch. "Sorry... that I didn't realize your feelings for me all this time..." You said, avoiding any eye contact with him due to the embarrassment.

"Shh... it's fine. Maybe you could make up to me... in my room?" He suggested with a mischievious glint in his eyes. You felt your face flushed at his suggestion. "Hmm? What are you thinking about, sweetheart? Care to share your thoughts?"

You're definitely not going to get any sleep tonight.

#sabo x reader #sabo the revolutionary #one piece scenario #fluff #one piece #one piece fandom #one piece fanfiction #fluff headcanons #chief of staff sabo #one piece sabo #sabo x reader fluff #suggestive fic #fan fiction

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xtodorcki · 3 years

Note

Hello! It looks like you got inspired a lot for Lies and Affairs, do you think you could do a part two?

“Lies & Affairs,” Pt 2 Levi x Reader

Y’all are a bunch of horn dogs but it’s ok bc I be running LAPS when it comes to Levi🥵

Summary: After Levi finding out about his partner, Petra, cheating on him- he is quick to run to your place and sleep with you. Now here’s the aftermath.

Warnings: mentions of sex, a little smut towards the end but that’s it but it’s not that serious

PART ONE

You stirred in your bed, the sun shining through the curtains after a long night of harsh rain. You could feel Levi’s grip on your waist and his breath fanning over the nape of your neck as he slept.

You tried to be a gentle as possible when turning over to face him, half of his face squished into the pillow and his lips parted open. He looked so peaceful that you didn’t want to bother him in anyway, you just wanted to admire him.

As your fingers moved up to brush the strands of hair back, you stomach turned thinking about last nights events, every kiss and touch replaying in your mind and it make your cheeks heat up.

But another thought came into your mind repeatedly, Petra and suddenly your mind was washed with guilt in an instant, completely ruining your mood as you slipped out of you bed and tugged your shirt on.

You turned on the shower, sighing to yourself and getting inside once the water was hot enough to your liking. It was quiet but your thoughts were loud, you knew Petra had betrayed him but you couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t know he was here and it felt like Levi didn’t even confront her with what he had seen yesterday.

Which he didn’t.

Yesterday Levi had walked to his place, carefully stepping inside incase Petra was already sleeping in bed but as he turned on the small light, he seen clothes scattered over the floor and they certainly weren’t his then when he heard giggling and noises coming from his bedroom door, he turned around and left without saying a word.

As your thoughts lingered while your fingertips traced over the marks he had left on your neck down to your chest, your heart felt heavy.

You stood underneath the shower head for what seemed like forever, your eyes closed and the only sounds of the water splashing. You suddenly felt someone grab you and it had made you jump at the sudden contact before your eyes met with Levi’s.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice deep and you can tell he had barely woken up.

“It’s okay.” You stayed quiet, turning your back to face him to break the stare he had on you as you grew nervous.

“Are you okay?” He barely said above a whisper, leaning over to tightly wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close to his body.

His lips kissed your cheek a couple of times, making your stomach flutter again and you cracked a small smile from how gentle his touches were.

“Yea, I’m just thinking.”

“Hm? About what?”

“You.”

He chuckled, his wet hair tickling the side of your neck and you had scrunched up your nose before turning your head back to look at him and the sparkle in his eyes had your knees weak.

But the lingering thoughts from earlier came up to your head again and your smile suddenly faded, this time he noticed.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“What about Petra?” You abruptly said and he shut his mouth, the name being brought up made him tense and remove his arms from your waist.

“What about her?” He tried to act like hearing her name didn’t bother him but he would be lying if he said it didn’t, it made him angry all over again.

“Don’t play dumb, she doesn’t know that you caught her right? And she definitely doesn’t know you’re here naked in my shower.” You scoffed under your breath, turning your body around to fully look at him.

A lump started forming in his throat, you were right. Everything you said was right and he felt dumb for even thinking he can easily come inside your house and completely forget about his cheating girlfriend at home.

“Do you think I’ll leave you and go back home to her? Is that why you’re upset?” Levi asked, his voice quiet and you frowned at him, maybe you were thinking about that option too.

He had cupped his hands on your cheeks, his eyes burning into yours as he searched in them for something, anything that would make him believe you truly wanted him here with you.

His lips had brushed against yours, making your hands reach up and hold onto his wrists until his lips had fully pressed down on yours. This kiss was different from last night, it was more passionate and more soft. Levi certainly took his time with kissing you that it made you melt beneath him more.

Eventually he pulled back, staring at you once again and it made you smile again, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“I’m not leaving you, trust me. I think I’m happier here.” He muttered, making you lean up and connect your lips again.

A simple kiss had made your thoughts disappear in seconds.

You wrapped your arms around him, tugging him closer until he had you back against the shower wall. You felt the smirk on his lips while he kissed you, his hands roaming around your body before he settled on the back of your thighs, lifting you up.

“I’ll show you that I’m yours.” He mumbled, breathless against your mouth and you felt your stomach flip at his words.

“and I’ll show you that you’re mine.”

I didn’t know if y’all wanted a Damn Petra confrontation but——— oh well.

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

#levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #levi Ackerman #levi x reader #levi imagines #levi smut #levi imagine #levi headcanons #aot imagines #aot headcanons

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so yeah this isn’t my best work bc i havent been feeling great lately but i hope you guys can stay patient with me until i get my shit together. we’re almost to the end🤞

***

Sitting crammed between Elain and Feyre on the gray couch in Lana’s office, Nesta has to cross her legs prettily and pretend she doesn’t want to peel out of her skin right there. She doesn’t know what she was thinking when she invited her sisters to one of her therapy sessions, but she’s assuming it would be considered rude to kick them out now.

“Who wants to speak first?” Lana’s bob swings as she looks at each of them. The office is ice cold today, and Feyre and Elain’s presence doesn’t help the chill in the air.

Nesta crosses her arms before she can be asked to speak. “No, thank you,” she says. She knows everyone probably expects better from her, but no way in hell is she going to be the first to open up in front of this crowd. “Feyre,” she turns to her youngest sister instead, “why don’t you say something?”

“Actually, why don’t you set the example, Nesta?” Lana gives her a look, making her cheeks redden with irritation.

“Fine,” Nesta grumbles. She clears her throat. “As you can see, I have made moves to reconnect with my sisters. I invited them here because I hoped that therapy would bring us closer and also make them more… tolerable.”

Elain coughs, “Bitch.”

Nesta smiles tightly. “Elain could especially use this, I think.”

Lana is already frowning. She never frowns this early into a session. “We’ll start with an easy question, then. What’s been on your mind lately, Nesta?”

Nesta purses her lips, pretending to think. “Nothing important. I’m looking at jobs for the summer. I think Azriel keeps sneaking money into my purse, and it’s starting to become more than a little condescending. I caught up with some friends from school, and I was polite enough to pay for lunch.” She mentions off to the side to Elain, “Lucien was there, too.”

“Why would I care?” Elain sneers. She spies Lana’s disapproving look and lowers her head demurely. “Sorry,” she murmurs.

“That’s alright,” Lana says. “Why don’t you go next?”

“Me?” Elain’s head snaps up, and Nesta holds in her snicker.

“Start by describing your relationship with Nesta. I heard you two used to be very close.” Lana uncaps her pen, preparing to write.

Elain flushes lightly and folds her hands. “That was when we were children. The only thing keeping us together was that we shared a home. When we stopped living in the same place, some of us had no problem leaving others in the dust.”

“You can use my name,” Nesta rolls her eyes, “I’m right here.”

From the corner of her vision, Feyre cringes.

“Are you saying you feel abandoned by Nesta?” Lana continues probing.

Elain’s answering silence tells more than enough. Therapy must actually be paying off, though, because Nesta only thinks about interrupting and defending herself for a second before shaking it off. Her mind focuses on the word abandonment instead.

Lana is focusing on the same thing, because she leans closer and says, “Being abandoned bothers you?”

“I never said that,” Elain says indignantly.

“It would bother most people.”

Nesta watches Elain sigh and blink her big doe eyes at Lana. She’s always been able to use those eyes on anybody for anything. “I just don’t understand why I’m the villain for expecting a little loyalty,” Elain says sweetly. “Especially when you take a look at this face.” She cups her round cheeks. “You know psychology. How could you abandon this face?”

Nesta’s jaw hangs open. “Are we still talking about me?” She remembers Cassian telling her the story behind Azriel ghosting Elain, and a pang of guilt and pity hits her. She still hasn’t talked with Elain about why Azriel left Velaris, and she knows she won’t be able to decide whether to spare Az or not until she does.

“So that’s my turn,” Elain finishes up. “Feyre can go next.”

Lana is writing something sharply on her notepad, but she nods coolly. “Feyre, how would you describe your relationship with your sisters?”

“Oh, we don’t have time for all of that,” Feyre laughs awkwardly and waves a hand.

Nesta agrees, but the look Lana gives Feyre tells her that yes, they do have time.

Gulping, Feyre glances around. “Well, I was born last, so I guess that made me the outsider of the family. I never had much in common with my sisters, but now that we’re older I… hoped that we would grow past that.”

Translation: she hoped that once she found her happy ending in Rhysand’s arms, poor little Nesta and Elain would happily assimilate into her new community of wealthy friends, putting the cherry on top of her perfect life. And while Elain did that exact thing, it’s always bothered Feyre that Nesta won’t do the same.

Feyre continues, “I admit I’m not the best at understanding Nesta. Elain and I get along fine now, but Nesta…” Feyre meets her eyes. “It’s like nothing we do is enough for her, but for some reason I can’t stop trying.”

“Whose fault is that?” Nesta mutters.

“You want her approval,” Lana hums, taking notes.

“Is that what it is?” Feyre looks away.

Nesta refrains from saying yes, that’s exactly what it is, and it’s not my problem if you keep looking for something I can’t give.

“What are your feelings about that, Nesta?” Lana turns her focus to her. “Remember that this is a safe space.”

It really isn’t, not with two siblings holding long term grudges against Nesta. But once and for all, she’s going to set the record straight. “I spent most of my life being a bad sister.” Nesta’s voice is apathetic, straightforward. “I let Feyre take the burden of providing for us even though I was the oldest, and I didn’t know how to be anything other than cruel to my family. So once I had the means to do so, I cut everyone off for all of our sakes. I still don’t regret it, because being a stranger is better than being a bad sister.”

In that way, Nesta is a bit like her mother. Nesta was angry after her death, but she knows she would have been even angrier if Magdalene Archeron had lived and continued to be a disappointing parent. In that way, both of them are wise for leaving their families when they did.

“Or you could just be a good sister,” Elain interrupts with a drawl.

Nesta smirks bitterly at her. “I’d rather die.”

Feyre takes in a breath. “Why? Why are you like that with us?” She blinks furiously, and Nesta can see the simmer of her emotions. “It was okay when we thought you hated everybody, but you don’t. You only hate me and Elain.”

Nesta looks to Lana for help, but her therapist is sitting this one out. She sighs through her nose. “I don’t hate you,” she says, even though they might never understand. The next line comes with great difficulty. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was. But I don’t like you very much, Feyre, and you don’t like me, either. Please stop trying to change that.”

When she finally meets Feyre’s eyes, though, they’re glimmering with tears. “How can I stop trying to change that?” Feyre whispers. “How can I give up on us like that?”

For Nesta to give Feyre and Elain the relationship they want from her would require nothing but lies on her part. And as much as she wishes she was capable of lying about this, she can’t do it.

Looking away and down at her hands, Nesta mutters, “It’s not fun for me either, but it’s how I am. I can’t be easy or friendly with you. I hate watching you try to make me be easy or friendly.”

Nobody says anything to that, but when Nesta looks up again Lana gives her a remote nod that Feyre and Elain don’t catch. Thank you for your vulnerability, it says.

“You said something interesting, Nesta,” Lana breaks the silence. “Did you see your sisters as your responsibility to raise?”

Nesta shrugs. “I was the oldest,” she repeats.

“Your father was the oldest.”

“He wouldn’t do shit even if you held a gun to his head, so I was up next.” Though Nesta hadn’t done shit either. Neither had Elain, but the rules have always been different for her. Elain redeems herself to others by handing out sunny smiles and pretending to have the intelligence of a fawn.

Lana stares at Nesta until Nesta’s skin starts to heat. “What?” she says defensively.

Ignoring the other two women in the room, Lana leans forward. “You told me once early into our relationship that part of the reason you left Tennessee was to get away from your sisters. You said you were heartbroken when they ended up following you here.”

Nesta doesn’t breathe or look to see her sisters’ reactions.

“Now I’m going to ask: did you really want to get away from your sisters, or did you want to escape the feeling of failing them?”

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer, because to her they might as well be the same thing. Having Feyre and Elain around is like having a weight tied to her chest. The lingering guilt every time Feyre is in a room, her existence screaming I’m the reason you’re still alive. Elain’s constant expectations of unconditional support and loyalty, whether it’s reciprocated or not. It’s all so heavy. And it all goes back to the fact that the three of them were once just helpless children.

If she couldn’t take care of her sisters, how is she supposed to take care of any child, ever?

Nesta releases a weary sigh. “You’re going to bring this up the next time we have the baby talk, aren’t you?”

Lana’s eyes sparkle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet.” But Nesta can see from where she sits that her therapist’s notepad is covered in bullet points.

***

“I need to use the bathroom.” Feyre is hopping back and forth on her feet once the session is over. “You guys head down to the parking lot without me.” She exits in a rush, leaving the two sisters alone. Nesta hisses in frustration, nearly chasing after Feyre so she won’t have to face the inevitable awkward conversation with Elain.

By the end of the session, it was Elain that broke and pleaded with Nesta, “Don’t do everything we want, then. Just keep doing better, the way you’ve already been doing. I’ll be happy with just that.”

Nesta was surprised that Elain had even noticed her efforts, but she retorted, “And how do you plan to do better?”

To which Elain twirled her hair and murmured something halfheartedly about, “I might be more open to taking criticism or whatever.”

Though it was the absolute bare minimum, it was still a relief for Nesta to hear Elain admit that she has flaws worth criticizing.

Now, Nesta clutches the straps of her purse and turns for the stairwell leading to the parking lot. Elain follows without comment.

Inside the stairwell, Nesta asks, “Have you spoken to Azriel since he left Velaris?”

Elain looks surprised at the sudden question, and doesn’t remember to be guarded when she answers, “No. Why?”

Nesta shrugs, her heels thumping loudly on the linoleum stairs. “Because I know what happened between you two. I know why he left.”

Elain halts midstep, grabbing Nesta’s arm and turning to face her with wide eyes. “What do you mean, you know? He told you?”

“He told Cassian, and Cassian told me.” Nesta hardly cares that she’s being a poor friend to Azriel by spilling all this to Elain, and continues, “If I had known he was such a coward, I would have kicked him out of our place a long time ago… but I figured I would get your input on it first.”

She’s never seen Elain look so genuinely pleading before. “Get my input on what?” Elain breathes. “What did he say about me? Was it something I did?”

At that torn face that borders on heartbroken, Nesta decides that she’ll do more than kick Azriel out of the cabin. She’ll kick him off the whole mountain.

She shoves Elain’s back to get Elain detached from her and moving down the stairs again, and as they walk, Nesta spills everything she knows. She tells Elain about Rhysand’s talent of shoving his nose into places it doesn’t belong, and how one conversation with him managed to convince Azriel to ditch Elain for good. She tells her about how instead of having a straightforward conversation with Elain, Azriel chose to leave the city and hide out in the mountains like a pussy. She might sound blunt, but Elain needs blunt. She needs to know the unfiltered truth of things.

By the time they reach the floor where their cars are parked, Elain is silent. “Did he really say that?” she finally asks quietly. “He said he wants me to hate him?”

“That’s what I heard.” After a moment, Nesta feels the need to add, “You should hate him, though. He fucked up bad.”

When Elain continues strolling for their cars without replying, concern bites at Nesta. “You are mad at him, right? And mad at Rhysand? You’re not going to forgive them, right?”

“I’m not a total pushover,” Elain snaps. She stares at the cement ground as they walk. “I’m just… more disappointed than anything else. He gave up so easily.” She chuckles without humor. “It sounds like he was looking for an excuse to get away from me.”

Nesta frowns. “I don’t think he would’ve spent so long moping around our house if he wanted to leave you.” Though they can never truly know what Azriel was thinking or feeling until he grows a pair and talks to Elain. Still, she shudders at having to defend him.

“I take it he doesn’t mope anymore?” Elain says.

Nesta doesn’t know how to answer that truthfully. She knows there’s more to Azriel than he lets her and Cassian see, and she knows he’s gotten better at keeping his feelings to himself. So she says, “It looks like he’s doing better, but I really don’t know.” They reach Elain’s car.

“Were you in love with him?” Nesta suddenly asks. Or worse, is she still in love with him?

Elain digs around for her keys in her purse. “You know how I am. Of course I was.”

“Not anymore, though?”

Elain looks up, keys now in hand. “It’s hard to still feel love for someone I haven’t talked to in two months.”

Then it wasn’t real love. Nesta is relieved, even though it doesn’t change the fact that Elain is hurting either way.

Elain jabs her keys at Nesta and says sharply, “Don’t you dare punish him for what he did. That’s for me to decide on.”

Nesta’s brow creases in refusal. “I’ll do what I need to do, and you do you.” She’ll have to be careful with her plotting, though, considering Azriel is Cassian’s brother.

“No.” Elain surprises Nesta with the force in her tone. “He’s your roommate and your friend. Keep treating him like it.”

Elain makes it sound easier than it is, and Nesta wants to argue until she sees Feyre heading down the parking lot toward them. “Fine,” she grumbles halfheartedly.

Elain gives her one final long look, not of threat but something else. “Thank you—for inviting us today.” That’s all she says before getting in the driver’s seat of her little red car. At the same time, Feyre catches up to them.

“Where are you parked?” Feyre pants as she approaches Nesta. She sounds a bit out of breath, like she ran to get here before Nesta could drive off alone.

Nesta points down the lot to where her scrappy old car is waiting for her, and Feyre straightens up with a grim smile. “I’ll walk you.”

Nesta knows that arguing isn’t worth it, so she allows Feyre to trail her the rest of the way to her car. Once they reach the old thing, Nesta gives a curt goodbye and heads straight for the driver’s door. Before she can touch the handle, Feyre attacks her from behind with a hug.

“Get off me, freak!” Nesta tries to jostle her way out of Feyre’s arms. She tries being nice to her sisters one time and this is what she gets—

Feyre only squeezes her tighter. “You don’t have to hug back. Just let me love you my way.”

Nesta squirms for another second before stilling. Swallowing tightly, she stares at the reflection of herself and Feyre in the car door window. One of her hands goes to where Feyre’s hands are clasped around her stomach, and she stands there without moving. She can’t remember the last time she shared affection with a family member like this, but it must have been before their mother died.

The warmth at Nesta’s back doesn’t leave, like Feyre is trying to pour all her understanding into the hug. Silently saying, I’m finally starting to get it.

In a way, Nesta is starting to get it, too. After all, how do sisters with such a complicated history begin to forgive each other?

Not by apologizing, but by doing better in the future.

***

On her way home, Nesta remembers at the last minute to stop by Gwyn’s apartment to pick up one of her sweaters. She doesn’t know when Gwyn started raiding her closet like it was a free mall, but she has a school event next week and doesn’t plan on letting her nicest clothes rot at Gwyn’s forever.

Nesta enters using the key beneath the doormat, knowing Gwyn is at work and won’t mind her stopping by. She scans the living and dining areas for a glimpse of brown cashmere, but only finds scattered books and a disorganized mess. Her fingers twitch with the urge to stop and tidy up the place, but she continues hunting for the sweater. Gwyn promised it would be waiting in plain sight for her.

Realizing the scatter-brained girl probably forgot to put the sweater out for her, Nesta pauses in the hallway leading to Gwyn’s bedroom and bites her lip. She doesn’t know if bedrooms are off limits or not, considering how often Gwyn and Emerie have barged into hers, but she knows she doesn’t want to make a second trip here just for a sweater.

Without giving it further thought, she strides into Gwyn’s room—

And yelps to find Gwyn on the bed.

Except she isn’t alone, and there’s definitely another body under the dark green blanket with her, and whoever it is definitely has their head between her legs.

Nesta spins away at the same time she hears Gwyn’s cry of surprise. She braces one hand against the doorjamb and presses the other to her freezing cold face, not having any words for what she just saw.

“Nesta?” Gwyn calls from behind her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, have you seen my sweater? It’s the expensive one.” She’ll just grab it and leave. Or maybe she’ll just leave—yes, that sounds like a good idea.

“Nesta?” a new, deeper voice repeats.

Gwyn hisses, and Nesta freezes because she recognizes that voice. She wants to be wrong so badly, but she has to whirl back around to confirm for herself.

“Azriel?”

***

a/n: i decided to cut this chapter short and add an extra one to flesh out my silly little gwynriel subplot. so if there’s anything specific or random you wanna see happen in the next chapter tell me bc i might have space for prompts!!

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