#but anytime he’d fucking see our stomach or shit he’d tell us
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NICE, our ex-bsf who made Lee relapse numerous times and then cut us off because their cheating bf said so just re-added us on snap
I’m Jace so any anxiety is replaced with forgotten anger but I added them and am just gonna see what’s up
#I’m conflicted#they were everything to me before I got into therapy#they understood me and never shamed me for even the most vile intrusive thoughts#I’d go out to them after work (2hr drive and I get off work at 2:30am) when they had panic attacks#and their stupid fucking ass of a boyfriend#who cheated on them THREE TIMES#considered me a threat to their relationship#oh?? oh no you think I’m hot. sexy. caring. and understanding?#thanks for the ego boost you fucking clown#i was the only one of their friends who actually didn’t shit talk you 24/7. because I understood his attachment to you even when I knew it#was unhealthy#i was so pissed off when he cut us off#i blocked everything but numbers#he remade his snap and our user is easy to search so#I’m worried it’s important if he remade over it#TW for an ed real quick but#we know he struggles with one#but anytime he’d fucking see our stomach or shit he’d tell us#we were the reason he starved himself#what the actual fuck#1. don’t say that to ANYBODY#and 2. we are literally 160+lbs#we aren’t fucking skinny. we are built like a lumberjack and Lee has always felt insecure about that#especially since we started T and it’s become harder to define our muscle mass without#ya know#having an eating disorder#ugh I don’t know#if he’s done done with his dick of a bf I may be fine talking to him again#//#/vent
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bad boy good thing viii.
pairing: jeon jungkook x oc
genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining
warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)
words: 1, 964
summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing
“I can’t believe this!” Jeonghan puffs while he drops his belongings loudly onto the table in the study lounge, causing a few other students to turn and glare.
“Would it kill you to be quiet?” Jungkook grumbles, picking at the edge of the paper of his textbook, eyes never straying away from the content of the page.
“No. I will not be quiet because I thought football bros were bros for life!” Jeonghan whines.
Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You know that’s kind of concerning when you put it that way.”
Jeonghan simply waves the other boy off before he leans forward as if he has something important he has to say. Jungkook knew him well enough to know that it would either waste Jungkook’s precious study time or be something so out of the ordinary that he can’t help but be intrigued.
Jungkook shrugged and takes the chance, anyway.
“Namjoon bailed.” He deadpans. “Again!”
Jungkook stiffens ever so slightly but feigns disinterest with a noncommittal hum.
“Really.”
Jeonghan nods his head, or shook his head—it was hard to tell because he was all over the place and he seemed more displeased than anything.
“I never thought we’d lose our own captain to a girl.” He sniffs.
Jungkook sighs, already done with the conversation because somehow no one can ever mention Namjoon without mentioning you now, apparently because the two of you were hanging out much more frequently. He’s bitter. And he’s confused—because he’s attempted patching things up with you but you only would ever reply to him with curt responses than the enthusiastic ones you used to flatter him with.
JK: hey. there’s a new cafe outside of campus. U wanna go?
Smarty Pants 🐰: Im busy. Next time? :)
JK: are u free tonight?
JK: im heading to the library later. wanna meet up for some ramen first? On me!!!
Smarty Pants 🐰: sorry jungkook, meeting w administrators for pastoral care matters
Smarty Pants 🐰: Do you need help with the content?
JK: oh… it’s fine, just wanted to hang out with you. We haven’t done that in a while
JK: jimin said u finally have some free time next week? Let’s catch up! i’ll treat u to some banana bread :D
Smarty Pants 🐰: i have plans with joon. which day were you thinking?
JK: Anytime. When are you meeting hyung?
Smarty Pants 🐰: we kind of have plans every day, here and there. could I get back to you?
And that was it. The blow that Jungkook knew he deserved but couldn’t deal with. You had tried your best to avoid any personal interaction with Jungkook and he didn’t know what the fuck to do.
“They’re kind of perfect for each other, don’t you think?” Jeonghan interrupts Jungkook’s sour mood when he recalls all his failed attempts at trying to meet with you personally.
Jungkook blinks then furrowed his eyebrows.
“Who?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Joon and your friend _____.” He knocks on the table. “Bunch of nerds together.” He adds with a snicker.
Jungkook stiffens, hands clutching his textbook tighter.
“You say that like there’s something wrong with being a nerd.” He says slowly.
“There isn’t. Really.” Jeonghan defends. “It’s just so … fitting. Captain of the football team who’s lowkey a softie and an art nerd with the overachiever on campus. Their IQ’s combined are probably in the 300 range.”
Jungkook scowls.
“Haven’t you heard of the phrase ‘opposites attract’?” Jungkook asks sourly.
Jeonghan scoffs. “Yeah. Like you actually believe in that cliche phrase. Come on—we all know you’re likely to end up with someone who’s more like you than different.”
The insinuation doesn’t sit well with Jungkook, but he can’t chew Jeonghan out for it anyway. He didn’t know the nature of your friendship with him, nor was he aware of the history the two of you shared.
“Never say never.” Jungkook shrugs.
Jeonghan rolls his eyes before taking out his laptop and settling into a comfortable position.
“I think he’s going to ask her to be his girlfriend soon.” He says off-handedly as if he assumed Jungkook gave a shit.
He did, and his heart drops to his stomach.
“Hey,” Jungkook calls out when he spots you slip past him at the foyer outside the humanities building.
You twirl around at the sound of your name being called, and your eyes widen when you spot Jungkook walking towards you with furrowed brows.
“J-Jungkook?”
Why you sounded so scared to see him, he wasn’t sure. But he knows that he’s frustrated because it’s the first time he’s seen you after the game where you and Namjoon left to hang out at the exhibition, despite his desperate attempts at calling you out to hang out with him.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Jungkook frowns, cutting straight to the chase.
You splutter for a response, and you realise that you’re basically gaping at him when you clutch your folders tighter to your chest.
“I’ve been busy, Jungkook. I told you this.” You softly remind him.
Jungkook scoffs, and he feels his mean bone grow; feeling the need to correct you because you were smart—and both of you knew that your excuse was lame.
“Really?” He says dryly. “Too busy to hang out with me but not with Namjoon?” He can’t help how bitter he sounds, especially when he’s heard from the rest of the football members; including Jimin and Taehyung that you were spending a suspicious amount of time with the captain.
You furrow your brows at him when Jungkook stares you down, waiting for a response.
“That doesn’t change the fact I was busy.” You huff.
Jungkook frowns at you, clutching his backpack tighter with his hand as he notices the way you avoid his eyes by dropping them to the ground.
“Why are you being like this?” Jungkook accuses, tone already on the offensive.
You gape up at the boy, brows scrunched in displeasure.
“Me? I’m not being anything. I told you that I was busy and we would rain check, didn’t I?”
Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek, frustration pooling in his stomach. “Somehow you’re only busy whenever I want to hang out, right?” He scoffs sarcastically. “I thought we were good.”
You stiffen, knuckles turning white when you grip your belongings harder.
“We are.” You say curtly.
“No, we’re not.” Jungkook retorts. “If we were then you wouldn’t need to find shitty excuses to get out of hanging out with me.”
You open your mouth, then close it. You feel yourself grow more exasperated with Jungkook the more he can’t realise the fact that you were still finding a way to navigate the throes of your relationship with him.
“They were not shitty excuses.” You snap. “Listen, we can meet tomorrow for coffee if you really—”
“That’s not what this is about!” Jungkook exasperates, breathing out in a huff.
You purse your lips. “Then what is it, Jungkook? You came up to me and started accusing me of lying to you because I couldn’t meet up at the times you proposed.”
Jungkook clenches his jaw when he notices the way your voice gets increasingly sterner when you talk to him. It only reminds him of the way you used to chastise him when he was younger when he’d do something that was ‘immature’ but standard for a teenaged boy.
“I apologised!” He cries. “I’m sorry I was a dick before this but I’m really trying to fix things between us but you’re—”
“I’m what, Jungkook?” You interject with a frown. “I’m doing my best at healing?” You add softly. “An apology won’t erase what happened.”
Jungkook feels himself deflate, especially at the way your eyes dart away when he attempts to look into them.
“I know it won’t but I just want things to go back to normal.” He sighs.
You screw your eyes shut, finding the words to say before you look at him with such sad eyes that he nearly pulls you close just to comfort you so that he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the fact that it was his fault.
“It’s not that easy.” You whisper, gripping at the hem of your sleeves. “It may be for you but it’s not the same for me.”
Jungkook releases a sigh so loud that your eyes widen, as he attempts to think of something better to say—to offer.
“I really am sorry.” He lamely apologises, his voice sounding a lot like a scolded child.
“I know.” You nod. “But you don’t know how it feels to have …” You swallow. “Whatever. We’re good. I just need time, Jungkook.”
Jungkook furrows his brows when you turn away to stalk off, but he grabs at your elbow to turn your body to face him. Your eyes briefly make contact with the way he’s gently holding onto you before they tilt up to meet his confused gaze.
“How it feels to have what?” He pries.
You sigh, shaking off his grip. “Look. It doesn’t matter. I’m being sensitive.” You deprecate immediately.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the spite in your tone, especially when you say it so firmly and seriously when you dismiss him.
“I want to fix this—us.” He pleads desperately. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?”
As if his words set you off, your eyes snap up and blaze with the pent up fury and anger you’ve been suppressing the entire time.
“Me? Be honest with you?” You scoff. “Real fucking funny. Because when I was honest with you, you turned it on me and took advantage of my vulnerability.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “What—?”
“You want honest?” You fume. “Fine. I’ll give you honest but you better listen closely this time because I won’t be repeating myself again.” You poke into his chest, even if it’s fierce and stern, he feels the heartache pouring through. “You were my best friend, Jungkook. You were and are someone important to me and you fucked me over because you knew I couldn’t say no to you. You knew how I felt and you took advantage of that fact just so you could get what you wanted and go.”
Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, confused at the information you were throwing at him.
“How you felt—?”
You cut him off again with a huff. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know. Why else did you think I did all the shit you wanted?”
“I-I don’t understand.” Jungkook stutters, head caught in a loop when you glare at him harder.
“You knew every bit of insecurity that I had and you weaponised that against me just so you could keep me close.” You say softly. “You knew, either way, I would’ve stayed because I’ve always been there, Jungkook.”
“You’re confusing me.” He deadpans, grabbing onto your shoulders so you were forced to stare at him.
He notices the glistening of your eyes as he feels his heart constrict when he realises you’re trying your best to keep your tears at bay.
“Well, you did it first so it’s only fair.” You sniffle. “You can act like shits fine because you weren’t the one who was attached. I was. So just let me have this time to myself to figure things out because I can’t even be around you without being sad, Jungkook.” You whimper.
He calls for your name but you're already furiously rubbing at your eyes as you curse under your breath as you spin on your heels to hurry away.
Jungkook gapes at you as he attempts to process what you just said, but before he can get another word in—you're leaving him to feel the weight of your words in the footsteps that draw further and further away.
#bts fic#bts imagine#bts fics#bts imagines#bts smut#bts x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#jungkook angst#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#bts angst#bts fanfic#bts jungkook
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Do I wanna know? - Chris Evans smut
The one where you’re pregnant, and Chris can’t keep his hands away from you.
Warnings: smut, masturbation, dirty talk, daddy! kink, kind of breeding kink?, possessiveness but kind of in a cute way?, pregnant reader
A/N: Day 10 of kinktober prompts were pregnancy and watching the other get off. Still publishing smut unrevised because I can’t be bother to both write and revise everything in the same day, so if anyone wants to become my beta, I’ll love you forever.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
Even when my belly was barely visible, he was already incapable of keeping his hands to himself, always holding, and rubbing and kissing and then his hands would go a bit lower and he’d find me wet and ready for him, like I always was.
Only now that I was big enough that I was waddling my way everywhere, it was like I was some sort of visual viagra for Chris. He was always hard, always in need of my help to get through the day. Our sex life had never been slow when he was back into my arms, but now it was impossible to do anything without finding myself getting pounded by my boyfriend wherever we could find any semblance of privacy.
Which was why when he gave me those puppy eyes after seeing me take off the dress I’d put on for our weekly date night, I decided it was time to try something new.
“Chris, I physically can’t have your dick inside of me anymore, at least not for a few days,” I warned him, holding the hands with which he was trying to grab me to pull me against his body. “I’m serious.”
He was full-on pouting, now, and I could see from the corner of my eyes that there was already a tent on the sweatpants he had put on to bed, so I sighed, getting on my tiptoes to deposit a quick kiss on his lips, and quickly running away before he could grab me again.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do…” I started, sitting on our bed by the headboard, and stretching my legs open as I held my nipples between my fingers. “You’re gonna sit on that chair by the corner of the room, and you’re gonna play with your cock as you watch me play with myself.”
He groaned, immediately wrapping his hands around himself over the sweatpants and almost falling over his own legs while trying to reach his seat. “Fuck, you look so sexy, princess… If you could only look at yourself right now.”
The sight of him licking his lips as he stared at me, sprawled out for his viewing pleasure, had me whimpering. Fuck Christopher Evans and his eyelashes and his stupidly pink mouth. “You like it, daddy? This is yours, all yours. I’m all yours, baby.”
I pulled on my sensitive nipples, just enough to get me whining. I really was roughed up from the amount of times I’d had Chris inside of me the last few days, but if I was gentle enough, I’d be able to still put on a show for him and pleasure myself without hurting my lower parts.
“Shit, yeah, baby. Pull on those sweet nipples for me. I love sucking on them so much, I can’t wait to see our child drinking from you.” Fuck, one of the things I loved the most about my man was how filthy he could get when we were down to business.
“Oh, yeah, daddy? What about this pussy, so you like tasting it?” I allowed my hand to travel further down my body, until my middle finger was grazing my opening and I could use it to circle my clit. It was so enlarged from my hormones getting me horny despite the fact that I’d been fucked every single day of the week that this simple touch felt like heaven, making me throw my head back and expose my neck to Chris, who cursed at the sight of my breasts bouncing slightly from the sudden movement.
“Hell yeah, baby girl, I love it so much. You taste so fucking sweet, I miss it every single time I’m not down on my knees, with your legs over my shoulders. Collect some of that wetness and taste it yourself, honey. Want you to understand why I love eating that pretty pussy.” He’d made me suck on his fingers after they were inside of me a thousand times, but doing it myself, under his watchful gaze, made the whole thing so much hotter.
He was right, I was sweet. But I don’t think I would have appreciated it as much if he wasn’t looking at me like that, like he wanted to devour me whole, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the veins in his neck popping from the restrain he was exercising as he tried to keep himself from cumming.
His thick cock, the reason for many of my wet dreams, was dripping from it’s red tip, and I had to bite my own lip to contain my desire to have him in my mouth. There was always time for that later. Right now, this little experience we were sharing was more than enough.
Chris’ P.O.V.
“So fucking hot, baby. I love you so much. I could spend the rest of my life between your legs and I’d die a happy man. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you? It doesn’t matter that your pretty little pussy is red and abused, if I asked you to spread your legs for me, you’d do so in a second.”
I had to chuckle at the long, drawn-out whine my girlfriend emitted at my words. “Don’t whine, baby. You know how it gets me too fucking hard when you whine like a pretty little baby. If you whine, I’ll have to put you over my lap and punish you.”
She gasped at my words, her little fingers finally plunging inside of her hole as she stared down at me with those fuck-me eyes. Oh, how I loved her. She was my partner, my equal in every single way.
“I don’t think we can get any kinkier, honey,” I joked, squeezing my dick as I watched her thrust her fingers inside of her pussy. She let out a tiny choked up laugh at my teasing, still too busy with chasing her high as I watched her from the chair.
“I don’t know… I can think of a few new ways to experiment when I’m no longer knocked up.” I growled at her response, suddenly feeling my cock throbbing against my fist. Not only the knowledge that she truly was as horny as I was, and up to try new things anytime, already had me feel like cumming, but the reminder that she was pregnant with my child almost made me lose control then and there.
Of course, the visual reminder was there, and I fucking loved it - it was the main reason why I’d been unable to keep my dick in my pants these last few weeks - but to hear it in her mouth, it only made the entire experience even more real.
“You like being pregnant with my child, baby? You like knowing that I ruined you for any other man, because the only cum you’ll want between your legs is mine?” Her breath hitched at my words, her movements on her clit accelerating, as I mirrored in my own cock. “Tell me you love my seed, honey. Tell me you love the fact that I turned you into a mommy, that you can’t wait to be knocked up by me again.”
It was enchanting to see her cumming, and one of the many reasons why I knew I had to have her for the rest of my life. I couldn’t imagine myself without her anymore, and I wanted to be the one bringing (or, in this case, witnessing) her pleasure until our dying days.
The sight of her mouth hanging open, her fingers deep inside of her - where I wished I could be - and her breasts jumping from her effort to get more air in her lungs had me cursing as I, too, reached my own high, spurting cum all over my stomach.
“You okay, honey?” I asked after I grabbed a wet towel to clean ourselves with, sitting by her side on the bed, where she laid like she didn’t have any ounce of energy left in her body.
“Yes,” she guaranteed me, but I could hear it in her voice that she was almost asleep already. “Chris?” She asked as I softly ran the fluffy fabric in between her legs, and I hummed to let her know I was listening. “Why are you so attracted to the idea of me being pregnant?”
My lips twitched up in amusement at her question, but nonetheless, I knew the answer already. “I like the idea of the world knowing you’re mine. Yes, it’s possessive, but that’s me, and I know you love me, sweetheart.”
I kissed her little nose as I curled up behind her, my hands protectively holding my unborn baby and my very sleepy baby mama. “I do love you, you absolute caveman,” she joked, and with a laugh, I went to sleep with barely contained excitement for the next day, when I would finally be able to add a ring to the list of physical evidence that she was mine and mine alone.
#chris evans#chris evans smut#smut#my fics#kinktober#kinktober 2020#chris evans reader#chris evans imagine#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fandom#chris evans oneshot#chris evans fan fiction#chris evans writing#chris evans writings
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serotonin boost prompt whenever you find the time: gallavich date with secret smiles, sweet kisses and the handholding we all deserve ❤️❤️
"We're gonna miss it, Mickey," Ian says for at least the third time, eyes on the ever-ticking clock over their fireplace. Mickey, kneeling on the floor in front of the worn sofa they had grabbed off a curb when they found out they had to get their own, just shrugs. He picks out a bright red crayon to pass to Franny, who's laying on her stomach next to him scribbling on the back of an ad for the local co-op.
"Calm down, man," he tells Ian. "She'll be here soon, can't do anything about a late train."
Ian sighs, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes. "Since when do you stand up for Debbie?"
Mickey eyes him warily from the floor. "Since it's not her fault," he answers, then asks, "Why you so worked up about it, anyway? It's not a big deal."
He sounds honestly confused, and it only makes Ian more upset. This was supposed to be their night. Their one night, all week, to just do something nice together. And Debbie had to come to them for last-minute babysitting while she went to an interview, then had to be late enough getting back to send all Ian's plans circling the drain.
He doesn't say any of that to Mickey. "It's nothing," he mumbles instead, knowing it sounds unconvincing but not really caring at the moment.
Sure enough, Mickey's eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to reply, but gets interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Mommy!" Franny cries, jumping off the floor to race to the apartment door. Mickey is slower to rise, grumbling about getting too old for sitting on the floor; if Ian we're in a better mood, he'd tease him for being perfectly fine with lying on it the other night. Ian stays put, leaving Mickey to follow their niece with a concerned glance back at him.
Ian listens to Mickey opening the door, reminding Franny to let him do it, and greeting Debbie. He knows if he followed, he'd say something about her tardiness, so he lets Mickey make his excuses and wave the two of them off.
He braces himself when he hears the door click closed again, and Mickey's footsteps come back around into the living room.
Mickey doesn't say anything about his sour mood.
"Kay, you ready?" he asks instead, grabbing his wallet from the crate temporarily serving as a coffee table.
Ian laughs humorlessly.
"I was ready an hour ago," he points out dryly. "But we missed our reservation already, Mick, we're not going anywhere now."
Mickey frowns at him. "Nah, fuck that, man," he says. "This is our night, right?" he asks, and Ian would be lying if he said that didn't warm him up a little, hearing Mickey call it that.
"Yeah," he agrees, and Mickey nods decisively.
"Let's go then," he orders, gesturing to the door. "I ain't givin' up on tonight that easy."
Ian can't help but grin, even as he asks, "go where?"
Mickey smirks, and slaps Ian on the ass when he gets up and walks past him. Ian starts, twisting to look at him with wide eyes, and Mickey waggled his eyebrows just to make Ian laugh.
"You let me worry about that, tough guy."
--
They end up outside the restaurant they had picked out together, some weird new mexican fusion place that advertised world-class margaritas. Mickey had gotten fond of the drink back in Mexico, and Ian figured it was something they could enjoy together.
"Mickey," he says as they get closer, " it took us two weeks to get in here, there's no way they held our table."
Mickey shakes his head. "Gallagher, I'm disappointed in you," he says as he leads Ian to the door. "Ain't conning you way into places your family's shtick?"
Ian just looks at him, brow furrowed, and Mickey rolls his eyes.
"Just hang back a sec, til I wave you over, alright?" he demands. "Watch and fuckin' learn."
And he's off, through the crowd at the entrance and straight up to the podium at the front. Ian can't hear what he says, but there are some wild gestures and hushed but tense words exchanged. At one point, Mickey gets out his phone and taps at it impatiently, pretending to wait for a response before waving it in the host's face.
That bit seems to do the trick, and Ian is waved over, picking his way through the other waiting groups without looking any if them in the face.
When he gets to the front, Mickey is saying, " and you're lucky he didn't have to hear any of that 'overbooked' bullshit, he'd have your fuckin' job for that," before taking off into the restaurant with Ian trailing behind.
He stops at a booth toward the back, and gestures Ian in first, sliding into the bench on the other side.
"What did you do?" Ian hisses lowly, leaning across the table toward him.
Mickey grins, and taps their feet together, catching one of Ian's and drawing it back to his side.
"Told 'em you were Ed Sheeran," he jokes. He reaches under the table to grab Ian's leg, pulling his foot up to rest on Mickey's lap. Ian has to lean back to make it comfortable, but the stroke of Mickey's thumb against the bone of his ankle is worth it.
"You did not," Ian pokes, but Mickey shrugs.
"Does it matter?" he asks quietly as a waiter approaches. Ian pulls his leg back, aware of how they must look, but takes Mickey's hand over the table instead.
"Guess not," he accepts, squeezing Mickey's fingers and feeling the metal of his ring. "Thanks," he adds, and Mickey's smile turns soft.
"Anytime," he murmurs, then grabs the menu to give his order.
--
"That was amazing," Ian groans an hour later, a stack of empty plates between them. Mickey hums his agreement, taking a final bite of fried ice cream dessert before tossing his spoon down with a clatter.
"Fuck yeah it was," he says with a burp that has the couple at the nearest table eying them with distaste. "Except the margaritas," he adds with a scowl, taking a long drag from the bottled beer they had quickly switched to. "Too fuckin' sweet."
"Thought you liked 'em sweet," Ian teases, leaning closer, and Mickey licks his lips.
"Nah," he says slowly, "that's just how I like my men." He winks, and Ian flushes immediately.
"Oh my God," he manages to squeak out, hands flat on the table. "You did not just say that."
Mickey laughs, open and free, and grabs Ian's hand again without prompting.
"The drinks were shit, though," he muses. "Now that I think of it, maybe I was just drinkin' straight tequila down south."
It's Ian's turn to laugh--"only you, Mick"--and they're both grinning like fools when he stops.
"Ready to get outta here, Red?" Mickey murmurs, tilting his head toward the end of the booth.
"Sure, Mick," Ian agrees easily, then let's go if his husband's hand to fumble for his wallet. "Let me just..."
"Hey, no," Mickey interrupts. "They gave away our reservation, man, we ain't payin' for shit."
"What--Mickey!" Ian whispers, but Mickey is already up and moving quickly toward the back, where he catches the door to the kitchen before it closes behind a surprised waiter and slips inside.
With a muffled groan, Ian takes off after him.
He almost makes it, but before the door shuts behind him, he hears the host yelling, "Hey, you can't go in there!"
"Shit, shit, shit," Ian mutters, faced with at least one sous-chef staring at him across the bustling kitchen. Before he has time to panic, though, Mickey is back at his side, grabbing his arm and pulling.
"This way, dipshit!" he hisses as they wind through counters and racks and boxes toward the door to the back alley. "Should've known you'd get caught," he pants, out of breath, "it's the fuckin' hair, man, too bright."
"You like my hair," Ian offers stupidly. Mickey stops long enough to make sure Ian sees him roll his eyes, and grabs a folded tablecloth and a bottle of something fancy from next to the door before he shoves it open with a hip and pulls Ian out into the cool night air.
Ian looks back for pursuit, but the kitchen workers couldn't care less. One of them even salutes him with a bread knife, lips twitching, until the door closes and breaks their line of sight.
They run for a few blocks anyway, until Mickey tugs him into a different alley to catch their breaths.
"That was some date night," Ian pants, hands on knees and a wide grin on his face.
"Night ain't over yet," Mickey disagrees. He pushes off the brick wall he had leaned against, motions back to the street with the arm not holding what he pilfered from the restaurant kitchen. "C'mon, man, we got somewhere to be."
Then he's off again, albeit at a more sedate pace, and Ian laughs again as he follows. He catches up with a few long strides and grabs Mickey's hand, letting his husband lead him once again.
--
This time, they wander farther, only stopping when they come to a park with overly green grass and a neatly manicured baseball diamond.
It isn't their field, the one with the dugout they used to frequent; that field is back Southside, and they haven't walked that far. But it's close, and Ian's heart pounds as Mickey leads him around the open fencing and toward the outfield.
They stop at the greenest point, and Mickey releases Ian's hand to throw down his stolen tablecloth, kicking the edges until it's more or less flat and open. He plops down immediately, just off center, and motions for Ian to do the same as he uses his pocket knife to uncork the stolen bottle of booze.
Ian sits as Mickey takes a swig of the mystery liqour, then accepts the bottle when he passes it over.
"This is nice," he says after a long sip of what turned out to be a moderately pleasant red. "How did you know it was here?"
Mickey reaches for the bottle again, taking another swallow before he answered. "Was helping Debs look at schools," he admits. "For Franny, when she's older."
Ian doesn't press. He loves how much Mickey dotes on their niece, but he knows talking about it makes him uncomfortable still, their own future hanging over them.
He lays down instead, and looks up. The stars are out, glittering above them in patterns he doesn't understand, but thinks must mean something good.
"Thanks for tonight," he says softly to the sky.
The tablecloth rustles as Mickey leans on his elbows next to him.
"Anytime," he replies. He looks down at Ian, and turns on his side so he can brush red hair back from his face.
"Gonna tell me why you were so upset, earlier?" he questions, voice light but serious. "Not like you to freak out like that."
Ian nuzzles into the hand on his face, and closes his eyes. "Just wanted to do something for you," he admits. "You were so excited about finding that place. And you're always doing stuff like that for me."
His eyes flutter open again, fixing on Mickey's face. "Figures the first time I try, everything goes wrong and you have to take over again."
Mickey doesn't respond right away. He watches him, thumb stroking his cheekbone, hand curling around behind his ear.
When he does speak, it's quiet. "I like doin' that shit for you, Ian," he says. "Makes me...happy. To see you smilin'."
Ian's lips stretch into a gentle curve, and Mickey returns it. "Yeah," he whispers, leaning down until their noses brush. "Like that," he finishes, the words lost against Ian's lips as they kiss.
Ian doesn't know how long they stay there, laying on that thin piece of fabric over the grass, making out under the stars. He doesn't care. Because it's Mickey. And despite everything that went wrong tonight, being there with Mickey was perfect.
They're eventually interuppted by what feels like rain, but turns out a second later to be the timed sprinkler system switching on. Mickey yelps into his mouth at the cold water as they break apart, scrambling to dash across the field and to the relative safety of the sidewalk. They leave the tablecloth where it is, a sad heap if fabric wet with water and remainder of their overturned bottle of red wine, and fall against each other as they turn to head toward home.
"Still wanna thank me?" Mickey jokes on the way, teeth chattering as his skin dries.
"Yeah, I do," Ian says, nudging him with a hip before pulling him back, wrapping a long warm arm around his shoulders.
"Tonight was perfect."
And if they stop again to kiss against under the L on their way, Mickey's back pressed to the support and legs hugging Ian's waist, well. It is still their night, after all.
#writing at work while I wait on things#so if there are weird autocorrects please ignore them#that's also why it's long and rambly😅#daily speedwrite#gallavich#mickey milkovich#fanfic#ian gallagher#mickey saves date night
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𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝑭𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓
Warnings: Some suggestive scenes are contained here.
❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
"Baby....no."
Hongjoong placed a hand in front of his face in an attempt to stop you from kissing him. Prying your hands off his neck, he tried to get you off his lap, but you only whined and clung harder onto him. Hongjoong wasn't very amused.
"Honey this has got to stop sooner or later."
You pouted as you grinded on his lap.
"Joongie.....don't you wanna make a baby with me?"
Hongjoong bit back the moan that got caught in his throat as his hands gripped your hips to keep you from moving.
"Baby stop. I'm not going to give in anytime soon."
"Oh. So you're willing to make Seonghwa a baby but not me?" You huffed and got off his lap, arms crossed as you angrily slumped down on the couch.
Hongjoong sighed as he turned his chair to you. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he silently prayed for help to deal with you.
"Babycakes, you know I love you and I'd adore to see you carry my child.."
Your eyes lit up at his comment.
"But we're too young right now to think about that. Let's wait a few years ok?"
Standing up, he sat down next to you before brushing his nose across your neck. Chuckling lowly, he whispered in your ear:
"And then I promise you, I'll fuck as many babies as you want into you."
❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
Seonghwa had annoyed you so much with his baby fever that the unthinkable happened:
You yourself caught it. Now you were watching baby videos and reading all about taking care of a baby, even bought a baby book name that surprised even Seonghwa when he found it in your bag.
"Babe? What's this?" He asked as he held the book up.
Walking shyly to him, you startled him by wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your nose against his.
"You win. I want to make a baby with you."
Seonghwa had to hold onto you because he nearly fell down.
"Wait....are you serious? Don't play with me. "
He became ecstatic that you finally gave in. Wasting no time, he hoisted you up and carried you to his room, eager to get started right away. Unfortunately for the both of you, Hongjoong came back early and walked in on you two.
"Ahhhh!"
He screamed as he dashed out of there, covering his eyes and bumping into Jongho who had just came back.
"Oh? I take it Seonghwa Hyung and Y/N are still making a baby? Ok. I'll just leave again."
"They're trying to what?!" Hongjoong marched back into his room, closing the door behind him.
"Well first time Seonghwa is gonna get scolded in Hongjoong's room." Jongho sipped his juice and decided to stay to see how it would unfold.
❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
Yunho didn't know how much more he could take before he snapped. You kept begging him and pestering him with baby related things, and he of course adored kids. But one of you had to be the responsible one and remind the other that you were both too young for kids.
"Kitten, you know as much as I'd love to see you walking around with a swollen belly full of my kids, you know we can't."
You pouted at him and he couldn't help but pout back at you.
"Kitten please don't pout. You know I can't stand to see you sad." He cupped your cheeks and wiggled your face side to side slowly.
Not yet wanting to give up, you made the most adorable puppy eyes you could muster, knowing he was a huge sucker for them. Yunho widened his eyes when he realized what you were doing.
"Kitten- no! Don't do this to me! That's not fair!"
You didn't listen and instead leaned in to place open mouth kisses on the side of his neck, occasionally purring softly. Yunho didn't stand a chance. You were using all his weaknesses to your advantage and he was one thread away from breaking.
Sighing softly, he pulled you away to look at you.
"Ok. We're going to try one time. Just one time! Got it?"
You nodded eagerly and began placing tiny butterfly pecks all over his face.
"Ok ok. But if it doesn't work out, promise you'll drop it." He poked your nose, looking at you with a serious expression to get you to understand.
But deep down, you both knew it wasn't going to be a one time thing only.
❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
"Yeosang! I need you to see-"
"Nope!"
Not even giving you a chance to tell him what it was, Yeosang quickly left his seat on the couch and went to the kitchen. It had been like that for the past week, your boyfriend had been avoiding you like you had the plague. You couldn't help but complain.
"You're right honey. You don't have covid. You have something much, much worse."
Leaning in, he gently pinched your nose bridge before whispering:
"Baby fever."
Gasping dramatically, he held a hand over his mouth, pretending to be shocked. You on the other hand, were getting tired of his relentless teasing and ignoring you.
"You're so mean Kang Yeosang!" You stomped away, leaving him there to laugh at how cute you were.
For the next days, you started ignoring Yeosang, instead opting to keep your baby fever to yourself. You were watching a video on your phone. Yeosang had been next to you, wanting your attention, but you refused to budge.
"Baby..." He tried snaking an arm around you.
"Unless you're talking about giving me a baby, I don't want to hear from you."
Scooting away from him, you plopped onto your stomach and resumed watching your video, but not before looking over at Yeosang and saying:
"Jerk."
Yeosang bursted out laughing. He wasn't giving in anytime soon, but he didn't mind you dragging it on. It was much more entertaining than he'd ever believe it would be.
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
San coughed out some of the food he was eating.
"You wanna what..?" He wanted to make sure he heard you right.
"I want a baby." You happily told him.
San wiped his mouth with a napkin, thinking of what to say next.
"Damn. Baby fever really got you bad didn't it?" He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words to soften what he'd say.
"See Y/N the thing is..."
When he looked up and saw your hopeful eyes and cheerful smile, his words were lost. He hated telling you no, but he had to at this moment. There was no other option. You were both young.
"Honey wouldn't you rather wait?"
You immediately pouted, letting out a tiny whine before perching yourself on his lap.
"No. I want you to get me pregnant. I wanna carry your baby."
San gulped slightly.
"Damn....not gonna lie, you probably would look pretty adorable with the extra weight on you..."
As you leaned in and placed tiny kisses on the corner of his mouth, San could feel his resolve weakening. He couldn't stop thinking about you looking all round and chubby with a swollen belly. And he sucked in a breath when he thought about fucking you raw. He was just about to give in, when he saw Byeol come out.
"Perfect! Honey! Why think about having a baby when we already have one?!"
You looked to where his finger was pointed at and when you saw the feline, you frowned.
"Byeol isn't a baby and she's been mean lately."
San laughed as he got up to retrieve her.
"Nonsense! She is totally a baby and she's the nicest-"
Byeol let out a menacing meow and scratched San's arm to escape his grasp, dashing down the hall.
"Byeol get back here! I am trying to prove a point!"
❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
"Mingi....." You walked up to him, hands fumbling with your sleeves.
"Yes love?" His eyes were all on you, waiting for you to say something.
"Can we....can we have a baby?-"
"Oh my God! Yes! Yes! We absolutely can!"
You shrieked softly when he just picked you up and kissed you.
"You know I love kids and I can't wait until we have one of our own."
He started walking to his room to get started, but you two were stopped by the 98 liners.
"Yes you can and you will wait." Hongjoong sternly said.
From that day on, neither of you two were allowed to be alone, the others were afraid the second they let you two out of their sight, you'd be all over each other.
"You guys are mean." You whined, annoyed that you couldn't spend a date night alone with Mingi.
"We're not mean Y/N. We're protecting you both from a horrible decision." Jongho stated.
"Yeah think about it. You really wanna have kids with this?" Yeosang gestured to Mingi.
"Hey!" Mingi smacked him.
"What's wrong with wanting to have babies with Mingi?" You huffed.
"You're dating him! He's practically a baby himself!" San exclaimed.
You and Mingi both looked at each other. You suddenly cooed.
"You are baby!"
Mingi blushed before mimicking baby noises as he raised his fist and cutely punched the air, making you squeal at how cute he was.
"Someone hold me back before I break them both." Jongho stood up.
❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
Wooyoung was not having any of your shit. Just because you had baby fever, didn't mean he was gonna let you try and infect him.
"Wooyoung-"
"No!" He'd immediately reply, not wanting to hear anything you said because lately all you talk about is babies.
He even went as far as forbidding you to touch him because he knew you'd try to get in his pants and rile him up. So for safety precautions, he'd carry a spray bottle.
"My sweet and handsome boy-"
You screeched when you felt the spray of cold water on your face.
"Back! Back away! I won't hesitate to bonk you upside the head with it!"
You growled at him before snatching the sprayer away from him and giving him the same treatment.
"Whoah ok! Stop it!"
Wooyoung began screeching as you chased him around the dorm with the bottle. San came in at that moment, looking at you both before taking the water bottle away.
"No weapons in the dorm." He reminded you.
"It was for self defense! This woman is crazy trying to get me to have kids!" Wooyoung exclaimed.
"Well you know what?! Maybe I don't want some loud annoying brat like you as my baby's father.."
You looked over at San and suddenly got an idea. Wooyoung noticed your smirk and did not like it at all.
"Don't. Even. Think. About. It."
You didn't listen though and blurted out:
"San? Wanna be a nice friend and give me a baby?"
San widened his eyes.
"I mean......sure...I guess?"
Wooyoung let out a piercing scream while San covered his ears and went to his room, Wooyoung trailing behind him, accusing him of betraying him and threatening to end their friendship when suddenly he stopped screaming. Wooyoung came back out, a large satisfied smile on his face while San came back out, holding his beloved cat in his hands.
"Here. You can have my baby for a day if you want."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
Jongho shook his head yet again.
"Y/N, this has to stop. Baby fever isn't contagious and I'm not going to get it like you did."
You grabbed onto his arm when he tried to walk away.
"But Jongho! I want to have a baby!"
Leaning in, Jongho smiled and winked at you.
"But you already have me. I'm baby."
He laughed at his cute little joke but you weren't. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Jongho sighed, staring straight in your eyes with a serious look to get his point across.
"No means no Y/N."
He got startled when you nuzzled his neck, and tensed up when you began kissing where his mole was.
"Pu-pumpkin...please d-don't do this." Jongho groaned, trying to pry you off him.
He absolutely melted when you began whimpering, not being able to resist the tiny noises escaping from your lips.
"Jongho....please.."
As soon as he heard you begging, he was done. His arms lifted you up and he pressed you against the wall. His lips immediately attached themselves to yours, kissing you hungrily, hands roaming your body.
"Fuck being the baby anymore."
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners
#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fluff#ateez dad au#dad!ateez#dad!au#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho
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Umbra | J. Seo (m)
》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members
》 Warnings: spitting, dry humping, mentions of blood obvi, mentions of feeding, strong boy trying not to fuck you into oblivion, his eyes get black he's when he's hungry/horny, disgusting amount of fluff, omg sorta strength kink? Johnny is very in love w you and very protective cause some of his brothers are out of pocket, Jungwoo wants to b ur bestie lowkey, Yuta is a lil shit
Chapter 2
There are many things that Johnny loves about you. He could spend all his time showering you with professions of his adoration, and he'd never grow tired of it. Though, his concept of time and yours are slightly different.
He's patient, excessively so sometimes, in your humble opinion. But, he also never expected in his three hundred and forty five years of existence, to find someone who manages to warm his cold and stagnant heart in the way you have.
Now, anytime away from you is a bit bothersome.
It's just, he never knew humans like you existed. In his world, there are either those who lust after his kind and the benefits in which their heightened senses and skills provide, or those who see him as a complete moral abomination.
Even now, in a society that has to live in conjunction with vampires, there are still so many people who fear him. Well, they fear what they think he is. A creature of the night, a demon, something that is only greedy for strife and nothing more.
You were the first person who genuinely throttled him, curious and wide eyed, completely fascinated by him. And not in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope, but in a way that made him feel as though he was something...to be admired.
Your heartbeat, even after a year, still flutters like the wings of dragonfly whenever he displays his strength; swinging you up into his arms like you're made of feathers and all things delicate.
At first, he thought you were scared, weary, perhaps, about his abnormalities. He couldn't find any other explanation for the way you seemed to shrink in his presence whenever he'd dip his head below your chin to grace your throat with his lips, cooling your hot skin.
It didn't make sense. Not until he realized there is a direct correlation to your change and scent, and these moments in which he can be himself around you.
You like it. You like that he's different, a complete opposite to what you'd find in the common world. If he thought he could be any more enamored, anymore breathless than he was before (no pun intended) he was wrong.
Even now, with you lying with your back against his hard chest, playing with his slim fingers, your voice is nothing but earnest. Curious, in your own little world that consists of just you and him.
He thinks, no he knows, that if he had a pulse it would be racing every time he's around you. Every time you ask him a question that would normally repulse anyone else, even when you place his cool palm against your blazing cheek, giddy about the difference in temperature. He can tell that you just want to know more about him, about how he exists in the world. He simply can't resist indulging you.
"So...everyone doesn't taste the same? I always just assumed that blood is, well, blood." He smiles to himself as you trace shapes into his palm, before flipping his hand over and grazing your fingertips over his protruding knuckles.
The feeling of your skin against his is so pleasant he almost gets distracted.
"Well, it depends, really," his free hand strokes up and down your arms, savoring the softness. "sometimes the difference is slight, like someone who's A or B negative, but other times it can be quite stark. It's about chemistry really."
He can already see your expression in his head, furrowed brows, lips pursed in a manner too cute for your own good. He absentmindedly pushes you further against his chest, reclining slightly against the pillows as to make it more comfortable for you. You hum in satisfaction.
"Chemistry? Like how you feel about the person?" He can't quite pinpoint what is laced within the lilt of your voice, he answers nonetheless, chuckling warmly.
The sound is like pure velvet, causing your skin to tingle. You shiver, and he pulls your blanket over you, worried his lack of body heat may be disturbing your comfort. He doesn't realize how wrong he is.
"It's more like, how that person has lived. Their natural...how do I say...essence? Yes, their essence sometimes can determine how desirable some ones blood is to us."
He doesn't miss the way your heartbeat falters in rythm. He grins, as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers. He twists his wrist and brings your knuckles up to his lips, kissing your skin.
You shift underneath the covers, suddenly thankful for his cool temperature. You know that most of the vampires that exist in society use blood bags from the banks provided, but you still wonder...
"Am I...am I desirable to you? Like, my blood, or whatever." You wish you could say you usually aren't so bad at speaking when you're around him, but that would be a blatant lie.
It's the most endearing thing he's ever witnessed.
His hands are gone from yours and elsewhere in the blink of an eye, one strong arm locked around your torso as his free hand reaches down to cup your chin. He turns and lifts your head towards him, gently, and the look in his eyes has your breath stalling momentarily.
"Of course you are, silly," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing ever, leaning down to peck your nose. Butterflies swarm violently in your belly. "I desire you in every way there is to desire someone, it makes me want to keep you all to myself. No one else should be allowed to even think about you, or your blood, in that way."
He looks lost in thought for a second, pupils almost darkening the whole of his irises, before he seemingly brings himself out of his daze. You turn in his hold, adjusting your position so that you're practically lying on top of him, chests touching and your legs cradled between his hips. He holds you effortlessly in his arms.
"Well it wouldn't matter anyways, cause I'm all yours." His pearly teeth show from behind the pillowy surface of his lips, as he leans in to kiss you in a manner that has you reaching out to wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.
"Mhm, all mine." He murmurs, nose nudging against yours as he shifts back and forth from your top lip, and then your bottom, tongue exploring the surface of each.
Kissing you, is another experience entirely for him. He wonders if it feels for you as it does for him, like pure intoxication. It brings back memories, memories he didn't think could still be reachable in the depths of his mind.
A time where he was warm, where life thrummed through his veins like the rushing current of a river. You are springtime on his tongue, the rays of sunlight that once heated his skin, the smell of flora in the air that mingles with the fleeting breeze.
He almost whines when you depart from his mouth, yearning already heavy in the pit of his stomach.
You look almost nervous, suddenly finicking with the front of his shirt as you sit back on his lap. He can hear the acceleration of your heartbeat, can smell the anxiety that is almost as heady as your desire.
He reaches out to cup your cheek, something he often does as a comforting gesture. You smile softly, meeting his curious, tepid gaze.
"So...I have a question," your voice shakes and you huff. "I mean, I was just wondering," he senses your struggle, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up so that your chests are nearly touching again, his palms splayed against your lower back.
"You can ask me anything, sweetheart. You know that." His voice, as sweet as honey, calms your racing pulse for a moment. Until you actually say the words out loud, wincing as if preparing for a scolding.
"Well I know you have a family, of sorts, from what you've told me. And I know you've always been really...hesitant to tell me more about them? I mean I've never been over, to your home or met them,"
Understanding washes over him, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the glint in his irises provokes an odd sensation within your belly. Like he knew this conversation would have to be had one day.
He lets you finish speaking, though your voice has even more of a tremor than before, now.
"Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I understand if you don't want me over there."
Urgency calcifies in his chest, the sad lilt to your soft voice making him feel ill. The way you say it is as if you think he doesn't want you in his space, like he's keeping you away from there because of something other than rational reasoning, doesn't sit right with him.
He cups your jaw, firmly but gently.
"I want you with me as much as possible, never think that I don't want you. That is not at all why I haven't brought you over there," You have no choice but to believe him, when he's looking at you with such a passionate gaze far heavier than what you're used to in a normal setting, his words concise.
"I am...well I'm old, and so are they. I've spent a long time being alienated, far before we were even accepted in the new world. We've settled here since before you were born, so you won't remember what it was like when people were forced to live along side us."
You hate hearing the unusual grain of what seems to be dejection in his tone, though you listen fervently anyways, his hands still comforting you despite the fact that his eyes are the ones cast down. You want to kiss the furrow between his dark brows.
"I've accepted who I am, furthermore I've accepted who I want to be. I realized that, it would do me no good to be a monster if people were willing, even if begrudgingly, to accept our existence. But my brothers,"
Your stomach sinks at the way he says it, knowing without a doubt that this is the answer to your original question, that his stance had to be explained before he told you something like this.
"they don't feel the same way as me, so they are stuck in their ways beyond coercion. They live very different lives, they are what our kind refer to as nightcrawlers, it's sardonic inside joke for those of us that would rather not conform to the new age of mutual concurrency."
"They are still a bit resentful for the fact that they can't exactly give in to their natural instincts. They don't see the humans acceptance as welcoming, they see it as a mockery. Do you see where I'm coming from?"
You look a bit out of it, like maybe you're frightened and he's suddenly worried he's gone overboard, that he's scared you in a way that can't be fixed. His eyes are suddenly frantic.
But then you speak, and you don't sound vexed, nor unsettled. Your question is simple, your thighs tightening around his waist as if to draw yourself closer to his comfort, arms looping around his shoulders.
"Do they all feel that way?"
He smiles, muscles untensing as you play with his hair in the way you usually do. Your eyes never leave his, and he wonders how he got so lucky.
"The youngest, well the youngest in our years, they're a bit less malicious about it. They don't cross anyone unless someone crosses them, but they can be excessively territorial because of their youth."
The tension, despite talking about a topic so heavy, is light again. You feel a bit silly now, understanding why he might not want you in close proximity with his coven.
But, still, knowing that there are people, for lack of better term, that have been in his life unimaginably long; a completely different, solidified version of a family, it makes you more nosey than usual. Could they really be that different from him?
"And...you're sure that if I were to meet them, it would end badly?" His eyebrow twitches in an inquisitive manner, surprise coloring his sharp features.
"I- well I thought you were just curious, I didn't think you'd actually want to meet them. Especially after all of that,"
It's as if he's speaking to himself out loud, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You resist the urge to kiss him so suddenly.
"but I don't suppose so. It's already established that you're mine. If there's one rule we follow, it's that. They know how I feel about you, despite our differences."
The sturdiness to his voice when he speaks of you being his, has your belly filling with heat at an irrational rate, and you suddenly remember how it felt to see him before you actually got to know him.
He's incredibly intimidating on the surface, firm and stoic. You can't see how anyone would want to anger him.
"So then I'd be safe, meeting them. And I'd get to see if you guys really have furniture."
Despite not needing to, he swallows. It's hard impossible to say no to you, when you look at him like that and sound so genuinely interested at a prospect that would make any other person run for the hills, even cracking jokes.
You're soft, and too innocent for your own good. He should say no, but to risk seeing a pout form on your soft lips, or having to hear the disappointment in your voice, it's unbearable.
"You really want to meet them, don't you?" He can't fight his smile when your face lights up like that.
"Well, I think it's important. They're your family, one way or another." You're gentle when you speak, honest.
"You're safe with me, you have to know that. But they're...not used to being around humans that aren't just accessories. The last thing I want is for one of them to say something that makes you uncomfortable."
It's evident in the low timbre of his tone that he's serious, and any smart person might listen. But as he said, and as you believe wholeheartedly, you're safe with him. Safer than you'd ever be.
And, as wrong as it may be, you want to see what other vampires are like. You're really only used to Johnny, the exception, where as most modern vampires only come out when absolutely necessary. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, has given you a brand new sight towards the world. Is it that insane to want to meet his brothers that have been so close to him for so long?
"I'll be with you, so it won't matter. I'll bet they're not even that scary, no ones scarier than you."
Your triumphant, playful smile has him grinning from ear to ear, leaning down to capture your lips between his own. Even though you're wrong about them, he's weak. Too weak.
"Yeah? Afraid I'll eat you for breakfast?" His breath is suddenly against your earlobe and you shudder pleasantly, grasping onto his shoulders before regaining some sort of composure.
"I'm definitely dinner, breakfast is really overrated. Unless it's breakfast for dinner, that's way better for some reason?"
He's kissing you again, despite the fact that he's smiling too hard for his own good, swiftly flipping you over so that you're caged underneath his body. His weight is barely perceptible even with your chests touching, forearms holding himself up.
"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" He has a hard time speaking without strain due to the way his throat has suddenly tightened with need, your legs wrapping around his trim torso and pushing his hips further against yours.
"Not possible, unless I've suddenly charmed your heart into beating again." You tease, though his eyebrows remain furrowed in concentration as he kisses you between words, dangerously sensual. You smell too divine.
"Very possible, actually. If you only knew how you make me feel."
Your belly lurches at the desperation that flows from him, his aura downright fever inducing. Without thinking, your crotch nudges his, bucking with the slightest of movements. But it's enough, enough to have his jaw clenching and a habitual breath of restraint leaving his nose.
Five fingers grasp your chin, so he can kiss you, hard. His hips begin to roll as his teeth nibble your bottom lip, the fabric of his jeans an arousing juxtaposition to your soft lounge shorts, your lack of underwear making it all the more satisfying.
He's hard, too. Knowing his dick is just underneath, hard for you, it'll never not give you whiplash. It gets you drunk, knowing your effect on him is as overwhelming as his on you. You're whimpering against his tongue, rubbing yourself on his bulge.
"Mmm, fuck." He growls, capturing your wrists in his palms before your next breath, raising them above your head and making sure they're comfortable against the pillows.
He's inches away from your face now, and his expression alone is enough to have your walls pulsing around nothing, desire seeping into your chest and hardening your nipples, goosebumps forming across your skin.
He looks at you like he's hungry, nostrils flaring avariciously. He tries so very hard to fight the darkness that fills his sclera like ink, knowing how very monstrous and unlike himself it makes him appear.
But he hears the way it makes your heart race. He can practically taste the thrill that seeps from your pores, the unbridled arousal that drips from your cunt like syrup. Your neck cranes upwards to try and reach his lips, and he smirks before meeting you halfway.
"Do you want me to keep rubbing your pussy like this," he looks down between your bodies and purposely rolls his hips in an accentuated fashion. "or do you want my dick?"
His voice is brusque, but caring and accommodating as it always is, his plump lips quivering slightly from the way his mouth waters.
"Can I have your dick, please?" You return, his mouth quirking up into a sideways grin.
"Such good manners," he kisses you again, sloppily, the sounds lewd and causing you to shiver against his unwavering body. "how could I ever deny you?"
You blink, and cool air is breezing against your wet slit, the nakedness sending a wave of tingles through your nerve endings. Before you can look down, you feel his cock against your clit, smooth and rounded tip gathering wetness from your hole before circling it over your clit.
He uses one hand to keep your legs parted for his viewing, fingers softly gripping your flesh as he sits back on his haunches. You feel impatience crawling up your throat, toes already curling as your bud throbs and your walls ache.
He's so pretty, he is raven hair against olive skin, an onyx sky against shimmering stars. Your hands reach out for his hips, delicate but fierce in their strength. He rubs his shaft against your folds, before prodding at your entrance.
He always watches your expression when he first slides in, the way your mouth falls open and you are suddenly this beautiful, agonizingly worked up thing. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes flicker from your pussy, lovlier than a flower and welcoming him with a squeeze, to your face.
Your eyes are bleary as they stare back up at him, your breathing already erratic. His lip curls with the need to hiss, to ravage you. But he takes it slow, he loves watching you fall apart too much. And you're so wet around him, moaning his name like it's the only word you know.
"Johnnyyyy, oh - umph." He rocks into, gracefully and with a deliberate curl. You claw at the front of his tee shirt, pulling him down to your face.
He eagerly obliges, meeting your lips with a soft smack, the angle only pushing him deeper within your body. His pace has increased, the front of his thighs colliding with the back of yours. His mouth somehow remains steady, as if he's not fucking you like he is.
He's parting from you sooner than you'd like, but you know he likes to fuck you like this, able to see all of you and savor it. It's still the most incredible thing he'll ever witness or experience, he's sure of it.
He can't believe a creature like him could be so lucky, here with his manhood buried to the hilt inside of someone so breathtaking, so innately divine. Your essence is thick and wet, coating his shaft each time he pulls out.
"Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin' pretty baby." His voice is gruff, nose twitching and eyes black. You wrap your fingers around his strong, sturdy forearms as his hands grip the softness of your waist. His lips purse and a string of spit dribbles down your clit.
"Ungh, oh my- ohhhhh Johnny please please." You're not sure what your begging for, and it doesn't matter. Because he'll give you whatever it is you need before you know you need it, already hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, gripping your jaw and pushing it up so that he can mouth at your sensitive neck.
"Mmm, I got you baby, I'm right here," he takes your earlobe in his mouth before marking your throat, licking and sucking. "I can already feel your belly tensing sweetheart, gonna make a mess for me?"
All you can do is nod, eyes squeezed shut and hands exploring his firm abdomen while he pushes himself all the way into you; rocking his hips back and forth to make sure the tip of his cock is rubbing that sweet spot inside of you. Your clit is being stimulated in the process, and you know you're not going to last long.
He knows it too, and his thumb is suddenly on your swelling bud, rubbing you in circles faster than you can comprehend, but with just enough pressure to have your nails digging into his back with fervor. Having unbreakable skin must be a plus, in his case.
You're tensing more now, twitching even. Your energy is buzzing around him, electric. Your heart pounds like a drum, rattling against your ribcage and causing blood to thrum viciously throughout your veins. His thrusts become a bit more frantic, his senses completely overcome with you.
He's so lost in his own pleasure he doesn't even hear you cum. He feels you go limp underneath him, back arching off the bed and your walls spasming around his cock.
He realizes now that you're trying to shove your face in the pillows, a silent sob ripping through your body. He's pulling you to him, and you're suddenly in his lap, as he comforts you with a soothing coo.
When you move your face from the crook of his neck and he's met with your teary eyes and damp skin, he's thrown off the edge.
Your forehead is against his as he bites back a snarl of sorts, pumping into you from below with as much restraint as he can muster as to not overwhelm you since you've just cum as well.
He has to move his hands away from you for a quick second, opting for the bed sheets instead while you cling onto him and kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. He feels selfish, but he also doesn't want to crush your hip bones in such a state.
Your breathing is still uneven, even after several minutes and once he's sure that he's in his right frame of mind, his arms are around you again.
Your body is sweetly ravaged by his mouth, lips leaving a wet trail over too much skin in such a short amount of time. You're still sensitive, wincing as his enthusiasm causes you to shift on his lap.
"Oh." He uses one arm to wrap around your middle, slowly pulling you off of his dick and lying you down against the comforter.
You whine at the loss of contact as he disappears, returning in a blur with a warm, damp cloth. He's in between your legs, wiping away your shared mess and muttering soft sorrys when he's just a smidge too rough. You're still embarrassed by his need to take care of you like this, bashfully looking away.
You don't realize he's gone and returned until the covers are being thrown over your body, his arms securing you to his solid chest and his lips against your ear.
"You need sleep, don't argue." He kisses the back of your head and you smile to yourself, snuggling further against his figure. You feel like you're being warmed from the inside out, despite how cool his skin is against yours.
"M'not gonna argue, you made me tired," The thump of your pulse and the shy lilt to your voice satisfies him, and he wishes that he could make love to you all over again.
"When will you take me to go meet the others?" Your speech is already slightly slurred with sleep, a yawn following. He sighs, kissing behind your ear.
"Give me until tomorrow night, I need to discuss a few things. Then we'll go, I promise."
He wishes that this could be a more exciting prospect for him, that in the back of his mind he weren't, for the first time in a long time, genuinely worried about how his brothers might react.
It's got nothing to do with his capability. Without question he will keep you safe, his strength is comparable to the eldest and he'd forge fire if it meant having you whole and in his arms.
But his coven, they're different than what he knows you're expecting. He knows that because of primal, and ancestral rules that they will not lay a hand on you.
If he's honest, it's more so what might come out of their mouths that worries him. He can't have them slip up and say something they're not supposed. It'll kill him if there's even one crease of worry or sadness etched onto your pretty face. He won't allow it.
But if it's important to you, it's important to him. You're here, asleep in his arms, and he's certain that if he had a soul, he would trade it if it meant another lifetime of your existence.
•
Johnny isn't next to you when you wake up, which isn't a particularly uncommon occurrence. It's just that normally he'd let you know beforehand, even shaking you awake sometimes just to mumble a be back soon in your ear, despite the fact that you're half asleep.
You reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone, clicking it on and feeling a bit less tense realizing he's left you a message. You smile.
Sorry I had to leave so early, sweetheart. I'm speaking with my brothers and getting some things taken care of. Don't worry. I love you and I'll see you soon. xx
He must be serious, about the way they behave. It's not that you don't believe him, you'd just rather see the positives, in whatever way you can. It's a little bit startling to think about today, if you're honest. Especially after such an all consuming night, the sun now too bright in your eyes, the scent of Johnny still on your sheets and clothes.
You feel anything but dark and dreary when you think of him. That's not to say he's not quite scary if you don't know him. Broad and towering, gaze low and piercing in a way that'll have you looking away nervously if he were to make eye contact with you.
But you can't imagine him as anything but what he is, beautiful and lively and kind, soft around the cold hard edges.
You stretch as you rise from your bed, joints popping as you pull yourself onto your feet. You wince slightly, realizing between your thighs is still fairly sore, ghosts of his touch lingering on your heated skin.
You and Johnny don't have sex incredibly often, at least not by normal human couple standards. It's pretty obvious why. His ability to control his strength, his desire, his thirst; in that state, as he has explained, it leaves him a little bit frayed.
It's not like you're not satisfied anyways, he's more than generous with his mouth and fingers, and despite the fact that he holds nearly half of his full vigor back when the two of you are intimate, it's still a little bit throttling for you afterwards.
The day is boring without him, quite frankly, but despite whatever you may think about it, you still respect his decision to plan ahead for your visit.
You do get it, it's not that. If anything, you just feel too safe with him. To the point where you sometimes feel invincible in his arms.
It almost makes up for the fact that you don't get to show him off as much as you'd like, as silly as it sounds. His kind can go out in the sun, but it's a bit bothersome after a while from what you've heard. He is almost a cliché in that department, most days either spent with him in doors or at night.
Sometimes, though, you wonder what it would be like if he were human. It wouldn't make a difference, you're sure of that, because he'll always be your Johnny. But the thought does venture into your mind every now and then, because of the way he speaks of his humanhood. As if he's trying not to admit how much he misses it.
You often wonder what he must have looked like when he could blush, with his vibrant smile on show, and dimples high on his soft cheeks.
A small, selfish part of you envies the people who might have gotten to witness him like that. Warm, a little uncoordinated maybe, eyes topaz in the sun. He must have been a sight to behold, throughout his human life.
Deep down, a part of you knows that, that is what this whole thing with his brothers boils down to. You're not just curious, you're madly in love with him. So much so that when he's away, it does feel uncomfortable. You never believed people when they spoke of love that way, you always thought it to be quite gross, actually.
And maybe you're just a silly little human with silly little feelings, to be so smitten after a year. But there's no going back now, he's a part of you, so of course you think about how much of him you've never gotten to see. Of course you want to meet any tangible part of his incomprehensible life, his family. Even if it's not conventional.
It leaves an odd pit in your stomach, thinking of him young and youthful, thinking of his mother and father and the life that they had created so many lifetimes ago.
You think of him at eighteen, maybe still plush in some areas not yet tainted by the work of adulthood. Had he ever been in love, back then? You swallow back the irrational bitterness you suddenly taste.
You think of him at twenty, and what he might have been passionate about. What life was even like for him. You think of his first kiss, and him at twenty four, a year before his life as what he is now, began.
Truthfully, you don't know a lot about him. It's a strange, sudden realization, but it's just never really mattered in all honesty. Because you know him, how he is now, which is all you'll ever get and is more than what you could've ever asked for.
You've always felt like it's different because his existence in itself has been so tremulous, and in a lot of ways very hard to talk about without it getting uncomfortable because of all that he has lost, or subsequently reminding him of what he is.
Never things he'd admit out loud, but definitely something you've picked up on in his expression or the wistfulness in his voice. It doesn't matter, to you; the bad parts. He's yours, and somehow you two have found each other despite so many centuries vouching on never having met one another at all. You wish you could truly express to him how nothing would ever stray you away.
You've showered and eaten an inadequate dinner by the time Johnny shows up, presence barely perceptible until he's wrapping his strong arms around you from behind.
You're used to it by now, not even flinching anymore. You melt instantaneously, placing your hands over his that are resting around your waist.
"Hi." He whispers, lips against the shell of your ear. You shiver and let out a giggle, turning in his grasp to get a kiss. He's on your lips before you even have to lift yourself on your tippy toes.
"Mm, hi." You mumble, hands cupping his jaw. You hum as he pulls you closer, spinning you so that you're pressed against the counter, his hand on the small of your back blocking you from the hard edge.
"We could stay here, you know," he smiles against your mouth, half teasing and half serious. "a change of plan never hurt anybody."
The idea is actually tempting.
"But I just showered." You pout, and his hands are rubbing your sides, eyes contemplative.
"You're right, you shouldn't go over there smelling anymore enticing than you already do, anyways." He says it with a grit of his teeth, as if the mere thought bothers him.
You're too distracted by his face to really absorb what he's saying, smiling up at him, practically beaming. Before he can quirk his brow and boop your nose with the tip of his finger, you kiss him again.
It's chaste, but it's sincere.
"You're so cute when you're all disgruntled." You state, throwing your arms around his neck. He snorts, shaking his head and licking his heart shaped lips lips out of habit.
"I'm not disgruntled, I just want this to go well." He replies, broad shoulders slumping. You unhook your arms from around him to grasp his hands, large and welcoming in yours. He intertwines your fingers.
"It will. Because I'm with you." It's simple, and undeniable. He knows that, and accepts defeat when he sees how truly bright the gleam in your eye is. You're his own little sun.
During the drive to his home, Johnny takes this time to give you some much needed insight on the creatures you’ll be meeting. He gives you their names, some key characteristics so that you won’t be startled by their behavior, but he doesn’t give you their ages. He simply refers to the one named Yuta as the oldest, and Mark as the youngest.
“Youngest and oldest in vampire years or..?” You ask, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile at your interest. You forget to focus for a moment, tracing the planes of his side profile with your eyes.
“Yuta was my age when he was changed, but he is, in our terms, the eldest. Mark is the youngest both in the factors.” His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles where your clasped hands rest on the center console, though it doesn’t soothe all the burning questions that you’ve decided need to stay in your head, for now.
You think of mark first, something about his youth, despite the fact that he is centuries older than you, seeming a little bit less intimidating. Almost abstract, in a way. As he describes the youngest, it’s easy to picture a boyish smile, innocence. Until he throws in the fact that the ones that get changed before the brain is fully developed, tend to be the ones with more of an unsteady grasp on their more potent emotions. You can guess what that means, and he suddenly regrets ever opening his mouth.
Johnny almost debates whether or not he should turn the car around and forget about this occasion all together, growing anxious at your monotone expression and the way you are chewing the skin of your bottom lip, and not realizing you are just lost in deep thought, not perturbed or uncomfortable.
Really, you are just trying to make out what his brothers may be like. Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung. For some reason, it’s the thought of meeting Yuta that seems the most daunting. Despite the fact that he is Johnny’s age, not technically but anyways - knowing that he has been around for so long has you wondering how a person like that even thinks.
Maybe you should've listened to your boyfriend. No, you're brave. But sometimes you are not very smart.
You are pulled for your reverie of sorts when your surroundings become darker, gloomier in the way that the trees seem to shield the road ahead from the sun, forming a canopy from above and casting misshapen shadows across the ground.
You don’t realize you’re clutching his hand tighter until Johnny turns to look at you with worried eyes, all the stars and every wish that he could ever grant you swirling in his chocolate irises.
“Are you alright? We can turn around and-”
You shake your head in defiance, determined. You aren’t going to back out now, not when you can already see the house from around the bend, pillars high and spiraling, a wide balcony peeking out from behind the trees.
“I’m perfectly fine, promise.” you give him a soft, reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but he knows you’ll likely scowl at him if he keeps insisting on your indifference, so he takes the car just a little bit further, rounding a bend and stalling before cutting the engine.
The house is a lot more grand that you’d previously expected, the outside still kempt but not as pristine. Mostly, you thought that it would offensive to coin their home as something dark and menacing, not wanting to contribute to the cliché. But, it does in fact feel as though you are walking into a lair.
It’s beauty is undeniable, though, despite the lack of real warmth that it exudes. Upon entering, wide open space greets you, black marble flooring underneath your boots and a staircase straddling either side of the entryway. Above it is a balcony, hanging over the foyer from the second floor.
“So I was correct, about the furniture.” You murmur, pressed against his hard side with your arms wound around his forearm despite the fact that the house is seemingly empty. You know that it’s not, though. Any living being who walked into this house would be able to feel it, the static that seems to raise the hair on the back of your neck.
“You'll have to forgive our complacency when it comes to interior design,"
The voice seems to appear out of nowhere, melodic and smooth and echoing off of the walls in a way that makes the direction of the sound imperceptible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone making their way down the left staircase, gliding more so than walking.
"So many years leave us comfortable, rather than fashionable."
Two figures float behind him, while three others descend down the opposite staircase. You could've sworn you'd only glanced at Johnny for half a second, before they suddenly materialized.
The man is suddenly right in front of you, and your eyes act as if they have no choice but to meet his, your breath stalling. It reminds you of the first time you saw Johnny, how shocking it was to be faced with such inhuman beauty.
"My name is Taeyong, it's lovely to meet you." The creature flashes a bright smile, something unreadable in his sharp eyes. His quaint lips are mischievous, or maybe you're just paranoid.
You don't have a chance to respond, already surrounded by a group that seem oddly eager to meet you despite what Johnny had warned, their gate an obvious contrast to your boyfriends.
They seem to sway effortlessly rather than stand perfectly still, their proximity closer than that of strangers. The energy around them feels unpredictable, and without thought your hand tightens around Johnny's.
"Wow, she smells good." A voice muses from the group, and you follow it to find a face that you somehow automatically know belongs to Mark. His face is youthful, eyes wide and full of glee and then a bit amused, due to what you can assume is from your boyfriend glaring at him sharply.
"No wonder he's so attached." The boy beside Mark, with dimples as deep as you've ever seen, hums to his friend.
"Please, don't be so crude, children. She is our guest." This voice is authoritative, the timbre low but the tone gentle like the stroke of a feather.
The group seems to make way for him without thought, and again, you're instantly struck with recognition simply by his presence alone.
He approaches you without caution, you blink and he's suddenly right there. His hair is longer than the others, curling around his prominent chin and framing his elegant features.
"It's a real pleasure to meet you, we've heard so much about the little human that's enamored our dear brother." You can't look away from his cunning face, his eyes are almost wild in excitement, plush lips stretching across his face to reveal a million wat smile.
He extends his hand towards you, with a bit more reserve now - and the first thing you notice are the sharp, glossy black nails that are more akin to claws, formed into stilettos at the tips of his delicate, slender fingers.
"Careful." Johnny mutters to his brother through his teeth, the man giggling in amusement as he gently takes your hand in his. You hadn't even realized you'd extended it back, his skin almost colder than Johnny's if possible.
"Tsk, so worried. For what reason? Look, I'm being as gentle as a hummingbird. Her hands are so soft."
Yuta. It's undeniable, he's too confident, bemused by this whole ordeal and even more so by the way his brother has stiffened beside you, pulling you back just a fraction of an inch.
The elder sighs wistfully, allowing your hand to drop from his. He meets your eyes once more, your skin buzzing oddly.
"My name is-"
"Yuta. I-I know, I mean I guessed."
It's the first word you've spoken to any them, and your voice is shakier than you'd like, throat dry. The mans lips twitch into a grin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clasps his hands together in a stunned manner.
"Wow, perceptive you are. So sure, despite appearing so meek."
You can't decipher his tone, worried that maybe you've messed up by interrupting him. He seems a bit perplexed, in a curious way. You're grateful for a new voice introducing themselves, directing your attention elsewhere.
"I'm Jungwoo," His voice is the most welcoming. "your skin is so pretty. Is that weird to say?" He mutters the last part to the slender, inquisitive man beside him, who's features are similar to that of a feline. He seems indifferent.
But, for the first time since you've arrived, you smile, an odd sense of relief flooding through your nervous system. You feel Johnny relax as well, and you glance up at him for just a moment, to see him already looking down at you.
"It's nice to meet you, Jungwoo," The jubilent vampire flashes you a smile. "all of you, really. Thankyou for welcoming me into your home."
"Of course, doll. Should we give her a tour?" Yuta speaks and Johnny responds almost a heartbeat after the elders suggestion.
"I can do that, give her some space." His voice is polite but firm, and Yuta giggles again, while the others back up a bit. Johnny readjusts his grip on your hand and begins moving towards the right staircase, turning his head to send the rest a look you can't see.
He leads you down the left corridor into a massive hallway, the walls a deep shade of plum, floors white marble instead of black like the ones downstairs.
Once you're out of view from the rest, he stills, turning towards you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.
"I'm sorry about that, really." His eyes are apologetic and you snort, embracing his middle and kissing his chin.
"Sorry for what? I'm fine, they were fine."
He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders slumping as he does so. He believes you enough to not keep on, pressing his lips to your forehead before continuing his non informative tour.
"I wish they'd keep at least some of their thoughts to themselves," you're turning, brought down another lengthy hall with a massive picture window framing the north wall. Heavy burgundy curtains keep the sun from shining through the glass.
To the left is another set of stairs, small in comparison to the ones you've seen so far, framed with elegant railing. "this is my room, up here." He points to the door that sits right at the top of them, lonesome and heavy looking.
Your heartbeat is suddenly loud in your own ears, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of being in a space that belongs to him. He senses this, and smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob and pushes it open.
Everything about his room is inherently Johnny. It's simple, but so very him.
The atmosphere is completely different to what the rest of the house provokes, the floors a deep cherry red, hardwood. A round, red rug sits in the middle of the room, a leather sectional nestled in the corner to the right. Beside it hangs rows of shelves with a multitude of books, more than you'd normally see lounging in some ones room. He's probably read them all three times over by now.
He has a television, which shouldn't make you giggle as it does. It's far bigger than necessary, taking up almost all the space on the eastern wall. There's a door almost adjacent to the one you entered from, which you presume is the bathroom.
"I love it, it's so comfortable in here." You muse, trotting towards the sectional and throwing yourself on the massive sofa. He chuckles, sauntering towards you and lifting your head so that he can place it atop his lap.
He can't lie to himself, it makes him ache in the most pleasant of ways to have you here, in a place that has been his only real peace since he's met you. Well, scratch that. You are his only safe haven.
"Yeah?" He replies, scratching your scalp lightly, studying the softness of your features as you gaze up at him, elated.
"Mhm, it feels like stepping into a different house entirely. Not that I have an issue with the interior design." You playfully mock his brother Taeyong’s earlier words, and laughter bubbles from your boyfriends throat.
"You don't think it's too melancholy? The house, I mean."
You shake your head indifferently, hair ruffling against the material of his jeans that are covering his thick thighs.
"To be honest it is quite....vampire-y, but it's elegant. And big. And knowing you live here makes it not seem so dark."
His hands are suddenly cupping the area just underneath your arms, effortlessly pulling you up so that you're straddling his lap. Your thighs find their place immediately, knees squeezing his torso.
"You're too good. Too pretty to be in a place like this." Despite his tone his eyes are formed into crescent moons from his smile, and you don't fight the urge to kiss him.
"Shush, or I'll battle you to the death." You mumble, his nose nudging your cheek as he tilts his head to move in a steady rythm with your mouth.
"Mm, think I beat you to it." He teases, and you can feel his smile. You're not in the frame of mind to scold him for that one.
Naturally, without even thinking, your body heats up fast from the way he kisses you. Even if he's trying to be chaste, it always ends up with a flame being fed by his tongue. His scent, the sensation of wholeness when you're surrounded by him.
Especially now, in the comfort of and quiet of his room when all you can hear is the smack of your mouths, steady and calculated. You're encapsulated by everything that belongs to the person you love.
A soft push to your shoulders has you humming in confusion, you're still not back on earth when you break apart to see the contrived, reluctant expression that twists his face.
"We can't - not here." He strains, very much so aware of way your hips are planted so firmly against his, the sweet scent of blood that rushes like a current through the area between your thighs.
You pout, and instinctually he's cupping your face between his palms, kissing it away. His fingertips graze the shell of your ear.
"Don't give me that look, you know why I'm saying no. If they thought you smelled good before, you'd be the finest of dining options if you walked down there wet."
Your body pulses with arousal, arousal that he can practically taste on the tip of his tongue. A petulant whine slips from your throat, while your palms graze his hardening length through his jeans, and his cock twitches.
Fuck. He really can't deny you, can he?
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isaac is bad at feelings
it goes like this: you get sad, you text isaac, he comes over and makes it all better.
feat. stiles, who knows the vibes
🎶 telepatía - kali uchis 🎶
The morning afters were always the same.
I usually woke up first. Sometimes I climbed out of my bed and carefully tiptoed into the bathroom, where I sloshed a bit of mouthwash, rubbed the gunk out of my eye, and slipped back underneath my sheets before Isaac woke up. The first face he’d see was mine. I did what I could to make it look kind of okay.
It’s not that I thought he would judge me if I looked bad. He wasn’t that kind of friend. He was just the kind of friend I fucked on occasion, when we both had nothing better to do and found ourselves lonely and a little unloved.
We both had a bad habit of avoiding the heaps of repressed childhood trauma that lurked in the dark corners of our minds. Some days were harder than others. On those days, sometimes the only comfort we found was in each other. And what were friends for, if not that?
Isaac stirred awake. He blinked twice, clearing the sleepy haze shrouding his eyes. His eyes focused on me and his face broke into a marshmallow sweet smile. He looked adorable, and I was as fond of him as ever.
He was laying on his side. The morning sun peeked through the blinds, reflecting off the floating stardust in the air. The light landed on Isaac, his sandy brown curls and his sporadically freckled skin. He was golden. In the moment, he looked younger, warmer, unburdened, happy.
“Morning,” he said. The sound of his greeting came out deep and gravely. His morning voice was, as always, a bit much.
“Morning,” I hummed.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Not too long.”
“That’s good. I guess it’s not as creepy to watch someone while they’re sleeping if you do it for not too long.”
I laughed. “I wasn’t watching you. Just, casually observing. You look really peaceful when you’re sleeping, did you know? Like, peaceful and serene and beautiful.”
Isaac raised his brow playfully. “Beautiful? Are you trying to be romantic? Is that what we’re doing now?”
I snorted and rolled over to face away from him. “No way.”
The weight shifted on the mattress as he scooted closer and his soft lips brushed against my shoulder. Isaac’s chest was warm and solid, protective behind me.
“I’m just kidding,” he said softly. “Anyway, you’re the one who looks beautiful when you’re sleeping. Also when you’re awake. Anytime you’re existing, really.” His lips trailed up my shoulder and he brushed my hair away from my neck to kiss me there. A hand snaked around my torso and turned me over to face him.
I playfully rolled my eyes. “Whatever. You’re just complimenting me because you have morning wood and you want to fuck.”
He tsked disapprovingly. “Way to ruin the moment. You’re always so quick to doubt my motives. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to take a compliment.”
I shoved him back lightly, flipping us over so I was straddling him around his waist. “It’s not your compliments that I want.”
Pushing Isaac’s boxers down his thighs, I positioned his already swollen cock at my wet entrance and slipped him inside me. Isaac emitted a shuddered breath as I took in all of him. I pushed up and brought my hips back down, creating a slow rhythm.
Isaac sucked in his breath. “Fuck, fuck, come here.”
He tangled his fingers in my hair and brought down my forehead to rest against his. I braced my hands on either side of him and rolled my hips. Isaac pinched one of my nipples, twisted it between his fingers and kneaded my other breast.
I sighed in pleasure, arching into him as a familiar sensation pooled underneath my stomach. I moved my hips faster. Isaac steadied my urgent movements with his arms locked around me. He held me still so he could pump into me from below. I sighed in pleasure. From this angle, I felt him deep inside me, felt every ridge, every vein on his cock against every inch of my walls.
“Oh god, fuck, Isaac, please,” I moaned pathetically. My nails dug into his shoulders while he slammed into me. It was a lot. It was always a lot, in the best way. I still wasn’t used to the fact that my fuck buddy was a teenage wolf-human hybrid with lots of energy to expend in the morning, or really at any point during the day.
In the corner of my eye, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. If we took too long, we’d be late for school. Reaching under me, I rubbed my clit and moved my hips with Isaac’s.
“Isaac, please I’m so close, please don’t stop, right there…”
Isaac rutted his hips and sank deep into me, and then we were both coming with strangled groans. I felt his smile against my skin, mirroring my own that he couldn’t see.
~*~*~*~
Later that morning, I drove us to school, rolling my eyes when Isaac said that it’d be faster if he just carried me on his back and ran there.
“You can’t carry me,” I said. “I’m not skinny.”
“And what of it? Your body’s amazing,” he replied without missing a beat, “and I would, and could, carry you anywhere.”
I chuckled. “Whatever, wolf boy.”
“Your car really is a piece of shit.”
I lightly punched Isaac’s shoulder. “My car’s fine. You’re free to get out and walk your ungrateful ass to school.”
Isaac rubbed his shoulder and chuckled. “So um,” he said hesitantly, “thanks again for letting me come over last night.”
I frowned. “You know you don’t have to thank me for that.”
“Yeah, I do. I just don’t ever want you to think I’m using my nightmares and my issues as like, a pick up line to get into your pants or something. I would never take advantage of you.”
Briefly, I glanced over. He was looking at me with a peculiar expression. He looked sincere, and because I was emotionally stunted, it made me uncomfortable. I chuckled to dispel the tension in the air.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re not taking advantage of anything. I do what I want, nothing more or less. You don’t have to treat me like I’m a virginal princess and you’re like, some big bad wolf stealing my flower.” I laughed at the idea that Isaac could ever be predatory in any way. “And it’s not like I don’t need you too. We’re there for each other because we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”
“Friends. Good, that’s good…” Isaac trailed off.
“Um, is there something else you want to tell me?” I asked. It sounded like there was something unsaid lingering in the air.
After a few beats of silence, Isaac casually replied, “Nope, that’s it. Just wanted to make sure we were alright, that’s all.”
That wasn’t all. I could detect the slight uneasiness in his voice. I knew in my gut something was off, but I was a coward, and I hated confronting people, so I didn’t. Instead, I decided to turn up the radio and pretend everything was fine, while a tiny little knowing voice in my head mocked me the rest of the car ride to school.
~*~*~*~
The ominous feeling from the morning stayed with me throughout the day. At noon, I waited for Isaac to show up in the cafeteria at our usual lunch table with the pack. After waiting fifteen minutes, I started to get a little concerned.
I turned to Erica. “Have you seen Isaac? He’s not answering my texts.”
Erica smirked. “Worried about your boyfriend?”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“So I’m just supposed to believe you sneak a boy into your room every night to chit chat and do homework? Are we that innocent?”
I shrugged. “I can be innocent.”
Erica laughed. “You haven’t been innocent since we were fifteen. But I think I saw Isaac earlier headed to the boys’ locker room.”
With that information, I left to go find Isaac, briskly walking through the hallways. I turned a corner and stopped dead in my tracks, suddenly wishing I’d never left the safe confines of the cafeteria.
I was about twenty feet away from the locker room entrance where I saw Isaac standing in front of a girl, his hand on her waist, her lips near his ear giggling and whispering, his face buried into her neck. And then he kissed her. In the middle of the hallway in front of everyone, not caring who might see them. Not caring if I might see them.
I stepped backwards until I was shielded behind the wall. I was hurt, but I didn’t even feel like I deserved to be. Isaac and I weren’t together. He was free to do whatever he wanted. We were just friends. I told him so this morning.
I mentally smacked my forehead. My own stupidity always came back to haunt me. This was what Isaac was trying to tell me in the car.
I returned to the cafeteria and sat next to Erica and stared blankly at my lunch tray. I didn’t know how to feel. There had always been this unspoken rule between me and Isaac that we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other. He had told me he didn’t want to take advantage of me but that’s exactly what it felt like.
He was messing around with another girl. For all I knew, there were many other girls. And he had kept it a secret. His withholding information by default made the scales uneven. Before, everything felt balanced and fair, but now, the dynamic felt different. I trusted him and he didn’t give me the same trust back.
If Isaac was just a casual friend, it wouldn’t hurt this much. I naively thought he and I had something different. I thought he was different.
Erica gently shook my shoulder. “Babe?” I felt too embarrassed to even look at her. “What’s wrong? Did you find Isaac?”
“Oh um, no I didn’t uh, I didn’t see him.” Erica soothingly raked her nails across my back and I relaxed into her touch. There was no way she bought my bullshit lie, and I loved her for not pressing me about it. “Hey um, remember last week when you said I should start dating again?”
“Um, yeah. You said you weren’t interested though, right?”
“I did say that, but I am now,” I said. “But I’m not exactly interested in dating someone. I just need a distraction, you know?”
“Hm,” Erica said. “That can be arranged too. But what changed your mind?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing really. My old distraction isn’t working for me anymore. I need something new.”
~*~*~*~
Erica suggested I meet up with one of one of her old casual hook-ups. When she first told me who it was, I was flummoxed. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense when Erica told me I should go out with Stiles Stilinski.
Since Erica pre-approved him for me, I knew he was someone I could trust and someone who probably knew what they were doing. I wasn’t super close to him either, which would help with avoiding another Isaac situation where I was too enmeshed with the person. Overall, Stiles was a pretty ideal distraction.
It turned out that he was also pretty into the idea of us linking up. My phone kept vibrating with his texts the whole time I drove home from school. As I walked to my room, I opened my unread messages, except ones that were from Isaac.
3:20 pm: Hey, this is Stiles. Well you probably knew that. Unless you don’t have my number saved
3:22 pm: Which isn’t a big deal considering we’ve never really talked that much
3:25 pm: Anyway Erica just texted me and told me that we’re hanging out tonight?
3:25 pm: We as in you and me, not me and Erica. That’s been over for a long time
3:26 pm: We didn’t date or anything don’t worry
3:26 pm: Anyway what I’m trying to say is that I’m totally down. I’m just a little confused
3:30 pm: Are we going out, like out out? Or are we just hanging out? Or is it like what Erica and I used to do?
3:34 pm: Sorry I’m making this weird. I’ll just pick you up tonight around 8 for dinner. Cya then :)
I was reading his last message as I opened the door to my bedroom, chuckling at Stiles’s messages, when I jumped backwards and yelped at the sight of Isaac laying casually on my bed.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I muttered. He simply grinned.
“Sorry, but I think it’d be fair to say you’re easily spooked.”
I stared back impassively, ignoring his playful quip. “What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Isaac shrugged. “Had nothing to do after school.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, so it’s just a convenience thing? You just show up whenever you want when you have nothing better to do?”
Isaac frowned and sat up. “You never had a problem with me showing up here unannounced before. What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”
“Nope,” I lied. “I just don’t have time to deal with you right now.”
I knew why he was here. To him, I was just an easy fuck. No different than the girl he was pressed up against at school and probably the countless other girls who gave him full access to whatever he wanted. “I need to shower and study.”
“Okay? I’m not stopping you. I need to study too. We can study together.”
I turned on my heel and lifted my shirt over my shoulder, walking topless to my hamper to discard the garment. “I don’t have time to study with you. I’m going out later.”
After unzipping my jeans and pulling them down my legs, I threw them on top of the pile of dirty laundry. Standing there in my bra and underwear, for the first time, I truly felt naked in front of Isaac. I’d grown so accustomed to him seeing me without clothes on that it stopped phasing me, but I couldn’t get the image of Isaac kissing another girl out of my head.
I always used to feel so safe around him. For once, I felt vulnerable in front of Isaac.
“You’re going out?” Isaac rose to his feet. “With who?”
“Stiles.”
Isaac blinked. After a few moments, he said, “Oh I’m sorry, are you not kidding?”
“Why would I be kidding?” I challenged.
The corners of Isaac’s mouth turned down in a thoughtful, indifferent frown. “I just didn’t know you two were close like that.” Isaac scoffed again. “Wait, I’m sorry, I can’t get past this. Stiles? How the hell did that happen?”
I chuckled, remembering that Isaac and Stiles hated each other. “He’s cute, and I like him. He texted me earlier, so we’re going out.”
Isaac shook his head. “I feel like you’ve lost your mind, but I suppose I can’t stop you.”
Just like you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving your tongue down random girls’ throats, I thought bitterly.
“So, are you gonna fuck him?”
I snorted. “Excuse me? How is that any of your business?”
“It is if we’re fucking.”
My jaw fell open. “Holy shit, you’re unbelievable. You know what? We’re not anymore.”
“Seriously?” When I didn’t respond, he laughed in disbelief. “You’re joking. You can’t be ending this over Stilinski.”
“I’m not. I just don’t want to do this anymore.”
Isaac blinked. “You know I can tell when you’re lying right?”
“Whatever. I don’t care if you’re listening to my heart rate or reading my perspiration levels or my scent or whatever. None of that means anything. What matters is what I’m telling you, and I’m telling you this is over. You should leave.”
For a brief moment, Isaac looked taken aback, hurt evident in his slightly wide eyes. “Come on, you don’t seriously mean that.”
He stepped forward and I stepped back. He looked surprised again. He walked us backwards until my back met the wall. He lifted his hand and with his pinky, gently brushed a stray lock of hair from the side of my face. I turned away and placed a hand on his chest.
“Isaac, I don’t…” Faintly, I tried to protest. I really did. But Isaac Lahey was not someone who made it easy to resist. He lifted my chin and softly pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back, a sudden impulse fueled by longing and self-loathing overriding my will power. I pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, groaning when his hand slid down my back and squeezed my ass.
Somewhere in the room, I heard my phone send out a loud text notification ding!. Oh right, reality.
I shoved Isaac’s chest and pushed him away. He stumbled slightly, his face full of confusion and sadness. I felt a twinge of remorse. At the end of the day, I didn’t want to hurt him. There was a soft spot in my heart and Isaac had made it his home a long time ago. But I couldn’t do this anymore. It was too painful.
“Just go please,” I said quietly. This time, he listened.
~*~*~*~
At 8 o’clock, I saw Stiles parked outside my house. I knocked on the window of his jeep, and in doing so, inadvertently scared him. Stiles jumped and hit his head on the roof of his car. I heard a muffled “what the fu-oh hey!” I gave him a guilty smile and a small wave. He rubbed his cranial injury and fumbled with his door handle, finally managing to step outside.
“Hey,” he said. “Sorry about that. I was on my phone and I wasn’t paying attention and… you look really pretty.” He cleared his throat. “Is that okay to say? Because we’re sort of friends and now we’re going… out…? But not like, going out, not like that. Unless um, are we? Because Erica kind of implied that this was just to... you know... I mean, it’s totally possible that I misconstrued her words and we are actually going out? Or… fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
Poor kid.
He’d texted me about 10 minutes ago to tell me he was in front of my house. He was early and I was nowhere near ready. After I had finished combing mascara through my lashes, I looked at myself in the mirror, mostly indifferent at my reflection, but a little disgusted. I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of using Stiles to distract myself from Isaac, but it’s not like Stiles was naive. He was Erica’s fuck buddy once upon a time. He knew the vibes.
Erica was supposed to tell Stiles this was purely a hookup, casual and unofficial, but considering he wanted to pick me up and take me to dinner, some signals might’ve gotten crossed.
I laid my hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Hey, Stiles, relax. It’s only me. I just needed to get out and have some fun, no pressure. We’ll figure things out as we go, okay? And thank you! You look nice too.”
I reached up to adjust the collar of his flannel button down. He smiled at the gesture, and I noticed for the first time that he had a really nice jawline. There was also a cluster of moles on his face and his neck, sixteen in total. Cute.
“Thanks,” he said shyly. “So, shall we?” He jogged to the other side of his car and held open the door, beaming back with a toothy grin.
I giggled, and the tension in my shoulders unfurled. There was nothing to fret over. This was Stiles, the least intimidating person ever.
Everything was going to be fine.
~*~*~*~
My “date” with Stiles was going surprisingly well. He let me play my music in his car, lovingly calling my playlist a “pretentiously indie softcore mess.” I pretended to be offended and played three more Bon Iver songs just to spite him.
At dinner, we slid into a booth at a colorful diner. He ordered a hamburger, a chocolate milkshake, and curly fries, then made fun of me for ordering a veggie burger, water, and sweet potato fries. I playfully punched him in the arm when he tried to steal some of them.
“What kind of self-respecting woman would I be if I just let you steal my food right after you made fun of it?” I quipped.
“First of all, I was making fun of you, not the food,” I gasped in mock offense. “And second of all, I just wanted to understand how you could give up meat and dairy for something that looks like dog food and cardboard. Now I’m making fun of your food.”
I snorted. The thing about Stiles was that even when he was roasting you, he had the unique ability to put you at ease, just by virtue of treating everyone the same way. He could be sarcastic and blunt and unnervingly confrontational, but he was that way towards everyone. Maybe if I hung out with him enough, those qualities would rub off on me.
“How dare you?” I said. “Just for that, I’m stealing some of your fries.” I reached across the table and snagged the biggest curl of greasy potato from his plate.
Stiles stared at me blankly. “If you wanted real fries, you could’ve just ordered them.”
“Hmm, it’s more fun this way,” I said cheerily.
“Wow, I have half a mind to out of this diner right now, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.” He leaned back against the booth and grinned. I smiled shyly at the unexpected compliment and stared down at my lap. “So, what’s your deal?” he asked.
I looked up. “My deal?”
“Yeah. Erica hits me up out of nowhere and tells me to take you out, which I don’t mind at all. We’ve just never been particularly close.”
I nibbled on a fry. “What do you want to know?”
“Just tell me why we’re really here.”
I paused. “You’ll judge me if I do.”
Stiles tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “Unless the reason you’re with me right now is that you need an alibi for a murder scheme, I probably won’t judge you, but even then…” I gave him a small smile and shrugged. “Here,” he extended his pinkie, “I promise I won’t judge, okay?”
I laughed and twisted my pinkie with his. “Okay.”
I told him about the casual arrangement I had with Isaac, getting jealous after seeing him kiss another girl, asking Erica to set me up with a distraction, getting into a fight with Isaac, and finally ending our whole arrangement.
“Wow,” he said.
“Yep.”
“First of all, Isaac Lahey? Doesn’t deserve you. You could do way better. Second, should I be offended or flattered that I’m just being passed around to different girls as a distraction? And third…” Stiles reached forward and laid his hand over mine, “I’m sorry this is all happening to you. I know what it’s like to see the person I’m into be all over someone else.”
I was nodding along until he said the last part. “Wait, what? I’m not into Isaac,” I said incredulously.
“Yeah, you kinda are. Why else would you be upset that he kissed someone else?”
“Um, because he hid it from me?”
“Nah, I’m not buying it.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and tried to retract my hand from his.
Stiles grinned and gripped my hand tighter. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay to have feelings for him. Just don’t fall in love with me too, kid.” He winked.
I tried to give him an unimpressed stare, but I couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled out of my throat. “I’ll try.”
“I know, I’m pretty hard to resist.” Stiles looked me dead in the eye, grabbed his milkshake, opened his mouth to take a sip and missed the straw completely, aimlessly moving his head and searching for it with his tongue. I laughed at him so loud that people gave me judgmental stares.
~*~*~*~
After we left the diner, we climbed back into his jeep. I graciously allowed Stiles to turn on the radio. In the spirit of our mutual dislike for Isaac, we loudly sang along to “I Don’t Fuck With You.” I realized I hadn’t felt sad about Isaac the entire time I’d been out with Stiles. Erica was right; he was the perfect distraction.
We were still parked outside the diner. I looked over at Stiles. Suddenly, I had the overwhelming urge to lean over the console and kiss Stiles on the cheek, so I did. I started moving away, but before I could, he surged forward and connected our lips. We were kissing for about four seconds before he pulled away.
“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“It’s cool,” I said, licking my bottom lip. Stiles tasted like the strawberry from his milkshake. “Wanna do it again?”
His mouth parted slightly. He looked surprised. “Really?” Without answering, I closed the distance between us and kissed him again, on his lips this time.
I grabbed the back of his neck and mushed our mouths closer. His lips tasted sweet. His sugar-coated tongue slipped into my mouth. He placed his hand timidly on my bare thigh where my dress had ridden up.
Stiles was a good kisser. I liked the feeling of his hands on my body and his lips on my lips, but even in the midst of all this, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Isaac, kissing him just this morning because we had woken up in the same bed together.
I tried to get my mind off him and focus on what Stiles was doing. Stiles kissing the corner of my mouth, Stiles grazing his lips against my jaw, then my neck, every once in a while tasting my skin with his tongue. He was sucking on my collarbone when my phone started buzzing in the cup holder.
I tried to ignore it, but against the plastic container, it was rattling obnoxiously. I pulled away, despite Stiles’s little whine of protest. “I’m sorry, let me just turn it off-oh.”
“What?” Stiles asked.
“It’s Isaac. What do I do?” I asked, a little panicked.
“I want to give you unbiased advice,” Stiles said, “but I currently have a boner, so my interests are a little biased at the moment.”
I ignored the call, but the moment was already ruined.
~*~*~*~
Since I couldn’t get back into the mood, Stiles offered to just drive me home. The car ride was silent and awkward and sexually frustrating all at once, and it was all Isaac’s fault.
“I’m sorry,” I said as Stiles pulled into my driveway.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault your ex boy toy takes every chance to screw me over.”
I chuckled. “Guess we’re both getting screwed by him.” I nervously picked at chipped polish on my nail. “Hey Stiles?”
“Hm?”
“Do you maybe wanna come inside?” I asked before I lost my nerve, hoping Stiles would understand what I was really asking him.
Stiles licked his lips. “Really?” Seemed like he understood pretty clearly.
I shrugged. “Offer’s on the table.”
Stiles pursed his mouth and squinted at me. “Do you wanna do this just to get back at Isaac, or are you actually into me like that?”
“Is it bad if I say both?”
“Maybe, but I’m no better, because I do want to come inside. Your house. Not-” I clapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter. “Shut up,” he muttered, which only made me laugh harder.
I reached for the door handle, but Stiles stopped me. I was confused until he jogged around the front and opened my door for me again. “If this is how polite you are on all your dates, you must get laid all the time.”
“You know how I do,” Stiles said, making me snort. He wove his fingers through mine, and we walked towards my front door. When we arrived, I nearly tripped and fell, because the last thing I expected to see was Isaac sitting on my doorsteps.
“Jesus fucking christ Lahey, are you kidding me?” Stiles said, grabbing my arm to steady me. “You’re creepy as hell, you know that?”
Isaac remained expressionless. He stood up and dusted off his khakis. “Really, I’m creepy? You stalked Lydia for years and she didn’t even know your name.”
“What did you just-” Stiles sputtered.
“Alright,” I interrupted before they started throwing fisticuffs. “Isaac, what are you doing here?”
He frowned. “I was waiting for you. I didn’t think you’d bring him back with you.”
“He is my date, which I told you before, and we had a great time, so I invited him in,” I said in a clipped tone.
“To get back at me.” I froze. “That’s what you told him in the car, right? Why are you getting back at me? What did I do?”
I looked down. “Nothing,” I mumbled. “I don’t know.” The silence stretched on. Beside me, Stiles was impatiently tapping his heel. He exhaled loudly.
“Really?” he said. “You’re both gonna do this now, right before I was supposed to get laid?”
Stiles was fed up, which became abundantly clear when he cursed our “unnatural capacity to be stubborn little shits.” He grabbed our arms and led us inside. He marched us up my stairs to my bedroom and told us to sit down. He stood in front of us with the authority and sternness of a school vice principal.
“We are going to resolve this right now,” Stiles stated.
“Resolve what?” Isaac mumbled. “I didn’t even do anything.”
I snorted. “Yeah right.”
Isaac turned to me. “What’s your problem?” he asked. The fact that he had the audacity to ask like he still didn’t know was infuriating. I was over it.
“Your face,” I muttered. I was aware I sounded like a child. I didn’t care.
“Oh, that’s mature. My face is your problem?”
“Yep.”
“Well your face sucks too.”
“That’s not what you said this morning,” I retorted.
“That’s because you weren’t acting like this this morning.”
“Well your face was better this morning.”
Isaac looked absolutely vexed. It was almost funny. “What does that even mean?”
“Holy shit,” Stiles said. “She’s mad because you kissed another girl. And many others possibly, but she saw you with someone at school today. That’s why she’s mad.”
“Stiles, what the fuck?!” I sputtered as he exposed me.
I felt my face get hot. I turned to Isaac, who was looking at me with his mouth parted in surprise and awe. This was so fucking embarrassing.
“Look,” I said, “you don’t have to explain yourself, okay? We never set any rules for what this was, and I just assumed we wouldn’t be seeing other people. So it’s fine. I’ll get over it.”
I scooted backwards on my bed until I reached the stack of pillows near the headboard. I locked my arms around my knees and hid my face. In the silence, I heard faint mumblings and harsh whispers. Lifting my head, I watched Stiles and Isaac engaging in an inaudible argument of accusatory finger pointing and other frustrated hand gestures. I ducked my head again. I couldn’t face the mess I’d made.
The weight on the mattress shifted. I felt a presence to my left. A hand rested gently on my arm. I looked up. It was Isaac, looking at me with a guilty expression on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I wasn’t messing around with anyone else in the beginning. That started a few weeks ago.”
“If you wanted to mess around with other people, you should’ve just told me. I thought we were close enough that you could tell me anything,” I said, unable to keep the sadness out of my voice.
“I didn’t want to mess around with other people. I only did it because I started having feelings for you.”
I froze. “You what?”
Isaac sighed. “I like you. A lot. I couldn’t tell you because I know you only think of me as your friend. I did try at one point to stop what we were doing, but I wanted you too much. But it was killing me not to tell you, so I got sad, like really sad. I couldn’t tell you I was basically in love with you, and I didn’t want to deal with how depressed it was making me, so I started messing around with other people. I fucked up.”
“You’re in love with me,” I repeated in awe. Of all the things I expected him to say, that information was nowhere on the list. “I can’t believe it.”
Isaac winced. “Look, you don’t need to address it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or feel obligated to comfort me or anything. I’ll deal with it on my own. I don’t want things to change between us just because of this.”
"But things have changed,” I said, thinking out loud. “Because I love you too.”
Isaac blinked. “You do?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I laughed in disbelief. “I think that’s why I was so mad. I didn’t even realize I had feelings for you until today. Stiles figured it out first. Oh shit, Stiles.”
Stiles raised his hand like a teacher just called on him for attendance. “That’s me,” he said.
“Oh god, I’m sorry you got caught up in the middle of all this,” I said.
Stiles shrugged. “No worries. Erica said there was a possibility I would get laid, and it was with you, so I was down for whatever. Actually I’m still down if you two are about to fuck.”
I sputtered. My entire face felt like it was on flames. I laughed nervously. “You’re still down to what?”
“To fuck.”
“Fuck who?”
“Fuck you. And Isaac.”
My eyes darted back and forth between the two boys currently on my bed. What did he just say? “What did you just say?” I squeaked.
Stiles blinked. “What? Haven’t you ever had a threesome before?”
“Haven’t I-? No, of course not! That’s freaky, even for me.”
“Really? Oh. I just thought, considering you have a reputation for being kinda promiscuous, no offense.”
I glared at Stiles. Full offense.
“No seriously, it’s not a bad thing at all. We all have an inner slut and there’s nothing wrong with expressing that. I’ve had lots of threesomes before. I’m sure Isaac has too.”
I snorted. “No way. Isaac’s too vanilla, right Isaac?”
I turned to Isaac. He grinned guiltily. “Uh, actually.”
“See,” Stiles said, smirking.
My jaw dropped open. “How did I not know this about you?”
Isaac shrugged. “Never really came up. It’s honestly not a big deal.”
“Wow, I feel like such a prude right now. Who’d you even do it with?” I asked.
“Scott and Derek,” Isaac answered.
My jaw fell open again. “And you, Stiles?”
“Scott and Erica.”
“Wow, Scott really takes care of his pack huh?”
Stiles laughed. "He takes his true alpha status to heart. But anyway, you don’t have to do it. I’m just saying, it’s fun, and I personally am horny and down for whatever.”
“I…” Thinking about being with Stiles and Isaac at the same time made something flutter in my lower stomach. I glanced at Isaac, questioning him silently. He smiled and shrugged casually in an I’m-down-if-you’re-down kind of way.
I inhaled.
“Okay. I, yeah. I’m in."
Isaac grinned. “Well this is a surprising turn of events. Just to clarify,” Isaac gestured at the empty space between us, “we’re together right? Now that we’re both in love and all?”
“That is correct, yes,” I said matter-of-factly.
Isaac leaned forward and kissed my shoulder.
Stiles clapped his hands. “Alright, alright, congratulations to the happy couple. Just a reminder: I made this happen. You guys owe me.”
“Was your 3-way suggestion not your way of collecting?” I asked sarcastically.
Stiles shrugged. “Only if it goes really well.”
“Jesus,” I said, rolling my eyes. “So uh, how do we do this?” I wiped my palms on my bed sheet. Starting off sweaty. Less than ideal.
Stiles stood up and walked around my bed towards us. He unbuttoned his flannel with each step and discarded it on the floor. Okay, straight to the point.
“Don’t be so shy,” said Isaac sarcastically, but watched Stiles with anticipation.
Stiles grinned before cradling the back of my neck and leaning down to kiss me. “Oh right, acting shy to get girls is more your style,” Stiles replied, with no real malice in his tone. It almost sounded like they were flirting with each other.
Isaac rolled his eyes. He turned to me, caught me watching him. His expression changed, becoming softer. He leaned forward, his lips gently trailing down my neck. Stiles laid me flat on my bed. They both laid on either side of me.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Isaac asked.
“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. “I want you. Both of you.”
part 2 is coming.
#daniel sharman imagine#daniel sharman#dylan obrien#stiles stilinski imagine#dylan obrien imagine#stiles stilinski smut#isaac lahey imagine#isaac lahey#I COULDNT POST THE LAST PART WHERE THE 3WAY HAPPENS IM SORRY#ITS TOO S*XUAL????#i'll post it later after i make it less uhh *intense*
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Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 4: Man Pouts on Couch
Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E
Mulder is not feeling lucky.
In hindsight, he should have suspected something was off today; Scully kept looking at her watch.
It’s Friday, March 13th, and he thought it’d be cute to invite Scully out for a drink again, make a little joke about it becoming a Friday the 13th tradition. This could work, he thinks. His plan is simple; ask her out every once in a while, for some reason or another, with the intention of eventually coming clean and setting up a proper date.
At five o’clock he stands up and stretches with performative nonchalance. “Buy you a drink, Scully?” he asks, cocking his head towards the calendar pinned to the office wall, surrounded by newspaper clippings and grainy photos.
She pauses with her arm halfway into the sleeve of her coat. “I…” She falters and presses her lips together, looking suddenly guilty.
“What is it?” he asks quietly, a pit growing in his stomach.
“I’d love to, Mulder, but I actually have a date tonight.”
The earth stops spinning and Mulder is thrown off balance, hurtling through the atmosphere.
“Oh,” he says softly. “That doctor guy?”
Scully nods, not meeting his gaze. “His name is Mark,” she says. “We’re getting sushi.” She looks up at him then, big blue eyes soft. “A rain check?” she asks hopefully.
She owns him; one look like that and he’d sell his soul to buy her a cup of shitty coffee. “Sure. Another time, then,” Mulder says, gathering up every scrap of composure he has left, patching together a smile for her. “Have fun.”
He goes home and throws himself face down onto the couch.
She has a date. A real date, with a presumably mentally stable human man with a high-value job. And a daughter. A ready-made family, just add water and stir. This Mark guy probably calls her Dana, asks her how her mother’s doing, feeds her bits of sashimi with no threat of aliens or shadow governments in sight. Maybe he’ll kiss her at the end of the night, softly with closed lips like a gentleman.
What stings the most is the fact that this Doctor Mark had the balls to tell Scully outright that he’s interested in her romantically, something Mulder has yet to do.
Mulder knows he should eat, but his stomach is churning and the idea of food sickens him. He’s being dramatic and irrational; it’s just one date. But the implications are weighty, the potential enormous.
He feels bad for being upset. This is good for her; she needs to get out of the basement, connect with other rational people, find some normalcy and balance in her life.
You need those things too, he hears her say in his head.
He brushes it aside. It’s different for him; he created this life for himself. He’s a collapsed star, a black hole of conspiracy and paranoia that sucks in everything that gets too close. The last thing he wants is for her to get lost in his darkness, swallowed by the void like some interstellar debris.
She’d told him that night in Rock Creek Park that she does’t blame him for what’s happened to her, but that doesn’t assuage his guilt. He carries the weight of what she calls her choices, a load she has no intention of sharing with him, awaiting no acknowledgement or thanks.
He’s doing it to himself.
Mulder whiles away the hours on the couch, gazing up at the constellations of pencil marks on his ceiling, tossing his basketball above his head. He drops it on his face twice.
He knows it’s probably only going to make him feel worse, but he’s a glutton for punishment; so at eleven-thirty that night he picks up the phone and calls Scully.
He waits for her to answer, his heart sinking lower with each ring. She’s not picking up. Is she still out? he thinks anxiously. The guy has a kid, so it’s unlikely that they’d stay out too late unless he’s arranged it with his babysitter…
“Hello?” Scully’s slightly husky voice cuts through his thoughts.
“Scully,” he says, tentative relief creeping into his body.
“Mulder, what is it?” she asks. “It’s late. For normal people, anyway. Are you alright?”
“‘M’ fine,” he assures he. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
He hears her hum in understanding. Late night phone calls between them aren’t uncommon, after all. “Have you tried counting sheep?” she asks, not unkindly. “Or slowing your breathing down, focusing on the cadence of inhales and exhales like I showed you?”
He’s wide awake, sitting upright on his couch, still in the slacks and wrinkled button-down he wore to the office that day. “Yes,” he lies. “It’s not helping. There’s too much going on in my head right now.”
“You work too much,” she says gently. “And yet not enough, when deadlines are involved. We’ve got an impressive paperwork backlog-”
“Can we not talk about work right now?” He reaches down and unties his shoes. “Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.”
“Right.” There’s rustling on her end. She’s in bed, he realizes.
“Did I wake you, Scully?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise.
“It’s fine, Mulder, I was only dozing,” she replies.
“Oh, how was the date?” he asks, as though it only just occurred to him, instead of being the only thing he’s thought about all night.
“It was nice,” she responds, and he drops his head onto the back of the couch in defeat. Shit. Shit shit shit shit-
“We talked about medicine, about cancer, loss. His daughter’s name is Amanda,” she continues. “Her mother - his wife - died when Mandy was only two, so he’s mostly raised her alone.”
“That’s rough,” Mulder says softly. Please don’t make me feel bad for this guy, Scully, I can’t bear it, he thinks.
“Mhm,” she agrees. “And his work at the hospital is pretty grueling, so his mother helps out a lot. I… I told him about Emily.”
“How’d that go?” Mulder asks, concerned. “It’s not the most… plausible-sounding story.”
“I was vague,” she replies. “All I really said was that I had recently reconnected with a child I’d been separated from, right before she died. He didn’t ask for details; he could probably tell it was a fresh wound.”
They’re silent for a moment.
“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Mulder asks quietly. Somehow he already knows what she’s going to say, and he braces himself for the sting of her words as they pierce his heart.
“I… I think I will,” Scully says, sounding distant. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”
She deserves this. She deserves a chance at something ordinary, safe, comfortable.
“Maggie Scully didn’t raise a quitter,” he says with a watery smile she’ll never see.
She chuckles. “No, I suppose she didn’t,” Scully muses. He hears her yawn. “I’m tired out, Mulder. Think you can sleep now?”
“I’ll try,” he says. He’s surprised to feel his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “Thanks for talking to me,” he adds.
“Anytime. Sleep well,” she says warmly, and the line goes dead.
He supposes he brought this on himself by keeping his feelings hidden. He waited too long, playing it safe. He wanted to gauge her feelings before he made any overt moves, and someone else beat him to it.
It’s just one date. But there’s going to be more. By the sound of it, she wants there to be more.
There’s no way he’s going to sleep well tonight.
He’s in a sour mood when he’s summoned to the Gunmen’s… den? lair? headquarters? the next afternoon, by way of one of their patented cryptic phone calls.
Byers unfastens the dozen locks on the door and lets him inside. “Mulder,” he says, ushering him in. “Good to see you.”
Mulder flops down in a rickety desk chair, exhaustion permeating his muscles. “I’m not up for being social today, boys,” he warns. “You said you had information for me?”
“We took the liberty of looking into Agent Scully’s new… uh, friend,” Byers says.
“For safety reason,” Langly adds, seeing Mulder’s lips purse.
“She’s precious cargo,” Frohike says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“How did you find him?” Mulder asks. “I didn’t even know his first name until yesterday.”
“Don’t insult us with your surprise,” Frohike mutters. “We’re experts.”
“We knew he’s a part of the parish Scully attends-“ Byers begins.
“And we knew he’s an ER doc, has a 6 year old daughter, and a dead wife,” Langly cuts in. “That’s plenty to go on.”
“I don’t need to know more than that,” Mulder says, suddenly feeling guilty. “It’s not my business.”
“Maybe not, but we have the info,” Frohike says. “Look, all you need to know is that he seems legit. Name’s Einolander, if you were curious.”
“I wasn’t,” Mulder lies, taking a sunflower seed out of his pocket and biting it pensively.
“Of course not,” Byers says, sounding completely unconvinced.
“You alright, Mulder?” Langly asks. “You look rough.”
“Of course he does,” Frohike hisses in the least subtle whisper of all time. “Scully’s dating someone that’s not him. Cut the guy some slack.”
“You guys don’t know shit,” Mulder grumbles, then backtracks, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I, uh... didn’t sleep well.”
“It’s okay, man,” Langly says.
Frohike nods sagely. ”We know how you feel about her. This can’t be easy for you.”
Mulder wilts in his chair. “How did you know?” he asks pathetically, realizing the jig is up. Has he really been so obvious this whole time? Fucking hell.
“Look, knowing things is our business,” Byers explains. “And we know you. We’ve been around the block with you a few times, and nobody’s meant this much to you. Not even Diana.”
“Plus, Agent Scully is a smokeshow, and you have eyes,” Frohike adds. Byers gives him a jab with his elbow. “Hey, I stand by that,” he declares, rubbing his arm.
“Well thanks anyway, fellas,” Mulder says, standing. “I should get going. The walls in my apartment won’t stare at themselves.”
“Do you want the file we put together on the guy?” Byers asks. “We can make copies.”
Mulder shakes his head. “Keep it. Draw a mustache on his photo or something.” He picks up his coat and slings it over his shoulder. “You kids have fun.”
“If you need anything, just flag us down,” Frohike says, patting Mulder’s back before unlatching the door.
Mulder steps out the door, then turns back. “How old is this guy?”
“Forty-one,” Byers says, flipping through the file. “Five-foot-ten, dark blond hair, brown eyes. Blood type-”
Mulder holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Bye, guys.”
He gets a petty, juvenile satisfaction from the fact that he’s two inches taller and four years younger than Dr. Einolander. It’s short-lived, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.
Because he can’t get Scully.
#my fic#txf fic#msr#xfiles#fox mulder closet romantic#fmcr#OH SHIT YALL THE ANGST TRAIN IS PULLING INTO THE STATION#had to do it to em
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The children are our future? | Peter Parker x Male Reader
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Stark Reader
Summary: (M/N) goes to surprise Peter and pick him up from school. While there a student tries to befriend him and (M/N) may or may not have lost his temper after realizing who it was.
A/N: I’ve been reading loads of fics about Peter and the field trip trope and like...maybe that’s coming… ;)
…
Peter tapped his pencil against the desktop repeatedly. It was obvious the school day was dragging on and he was ready to get out of there. He always wanted to get out of school early but even more so since he was supposed to be working with Tony in the lab today. Of course that would happen AFTER he saw his boyfriend, he always came first.
Peter was brought out of his boredom when he felt his spidey senses going off and no soon after something hit his head. It didn’t hurt and when he looked it was just a crumpled up piece of paper. He shouldn’t pick up that paper, everything in his body said to just ignore it. So he did, he ignored it. Then after a little bit another one hit him. Then another. Then another. He could tell it was Flash trying to mess with him and as much as he hated saying it, it was working. With one last paper ball Peter had enough.”WHAT!?” He glared at the boy who was only smirking at him. “MR.PARKER! What is going on?!” Peter felt his stomach drop. Oh he was in trouble. “I...I was-” “See me after class!” The whole class snickered and Flash smirked at him. Peter hated it here.
Peter stayed after class to get a talking to by the teacher. He was angry to say the least, Flash never got in trouble or anything. It should be him here not Peter. The teacher was going on about respect and not causing trouble, Peter really wasn’t listening if he was being honest. After the rant Peter left the class to be greeted by Ned. “Hey, figured I’d wait for you. How’d it go in there?” Peter shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing important. Just another person who won’t deal with Flash.” Ned nudged him. “At least you didn’t get like, detention or anything. We can deal with Flash another day.” Peter and Ned exited the front door of the school and heard whispers and talk. “Is that (M/N) Stark?” “What’s HE doing here?” Peter looked up and gulped. There he was, his boyfriend...looking absolutely annoyed with a starstruck Flash talking to him. “Or he’s gonna deal with him.”
…
(M/N) Stark leaned against the passenger side of the car. He was there on a mission, Peter had been acting strange for the past week and it was worrying him. He was so worried he got in contact with Ned, who after several minutes of questions, told him about Peter’s bully Flash. (M/N) would have dealt with it sooner had he any name other than a Fake name to go off of. He could have asked Ned but (M/N) had a better idea.
Before Happy could even reach his car, the poor man was intercepted by (M/N). “Sup Happy. You out to get Peter? Well belay that order, I’m picking him up today. Go out and get yourself some lunch you deserve it.” Happy didn’t know what was happening but he watched as (M/N) got into one of Tony’s sports cars and drove out of the parking garage. That’s how he found himself outside of Midtown High.
(M/N) was scrolling on his phone waiting for his boyfriend to arrive. The school bell rang and students started walking out. He could hear people talking about him and it made him smirk. “Holy shit! You’re (M/N) Stark!” (M/N) looked up to see a boy who looked like he was about to faint. “That’s me.” He didn’t say anything else as he returned to his phone. “What are you doing here? Never mind. You have a really cool car! I got a sick ride too! I can show it to ya if you want! Oh! Can I get a photo?” (M/N) let out a sigh. He didn’t want to be rude, but frankly this kid was getting on his nerves. “What’s your name kid?” “Eugene, Eugene Thompson. But you can call me-” He stopped as Peter and Ned came walking up. (M/N) smiled at his boyfriend who was smiling back at him. “Hey.” Peter said but was interrupted by Flash. “Hey Penis! Can’t you see the two of us are talking? Trying to make it seem like that Stark internship is a real thing?” Peter glanced to his boyfriend who was still smiling, but his eyes held the intent to murder. “I bet (M/N) here would just LOVE to hear about it. A loser like you wouldn’t even be able to go through the front doors!” Peter smirked at Flash.
(M/N) started typing into his phone, still smiling. “You know what EUGENE. I would LOVE to hear about it. Why can’t Peter here walk through the front doors when he is one of the best interns my father has ever had?” Flash looked shocked while Peter was smirking, Ned looking somewhat lost and happy. (M/N) was still typing on his phone. “Also I should point out that the very boy you are insulting and calling penis is actually my boyfriend and if you know anything about me...I don’t take kindly to people who hurt the people that I love. And....done.” (M/N) looked back up from his phone to Flash. “You have now been blacklisted from every ivy league college on the eastern seaboard. You’re welcome. You’ll be lucky if even a community college accepts you here.”(M/N) held up his phone and took a photo of Flash’s red face. “What!? Y-You can’t do that!” (M/N) smirked. “I can. You know why? I’m (M/N) fucking Stark and you fucked with my boyfriend. You’re lucky that being blacklisted was all I did.” He stepped closer to the boy and tightly gripped his shoulder. “Because if I wasn’t so good about controlling my anger.” He let some of his powers slip through to let his eyes light up. “You wouldn’t live to see graduation. Now get out of here and don’t let me hear about you messing with Peter, his friends, or anyone else again.” Flash looked like he was on the verge of tears but nodded and ran away. Before he could get too far (M/N) stopped him. “Oh and Eugene! This isn’t over, I’ll be watching.”
With everything that went down it was no surprise that most of the students were staring at them. Some shocked still from the Stark boy being at their school, others for what he just did to Flash. They weren’t sure what he could really do to them so no one dared say anything or take videos. Turning to a blushing Peter, (M/N) smiled brightly at him. “Hey babe.” Peter smiled and looked embarrassingly at his feet. “Did you really have to do that?” (M/N) smirked at his boyfriend and held onto his shoulders. “Of course I did. He was a dick to you and annoying me. He made his bed now he gets to lay in it.” Peter was about to say something else but his boyfriend cut him off by pressing his lips to Peter’s. The sound of gasps and whispers could be heard, but neither of them cared. Pulling apart (M/N) opened the passenger door. “Shall we go? I’m sure dad’s already working in the lab.” He turned to Ned who was looking shocked beyond belief but also smiling broadly. “Thanks again for your help Ned. Much appreciated.” Ned nodded. “Anytime. See ya later Peter. Bye (M/N)!”
Peter said his goodbye before sitting in the car. (M/N) got into the driver's seat and pulled away from the school. “Man...I really hate public school. You sure you don’t want dad to just...pull some strings and get you into M.I.T or something?” Peter chuckled at that and looked at him. “Yeah I’m sure, I’d miss Ned and MJ too much. Besides I have a feeling it’ll be alright now that you’ve dealt with Flash. Don’t think anyone else would want to get on your bad side.” (M/N) shook his head with a smile. “Good. They better not, otherwise I’ll come after them. I wonder if that twerps gonna go run to mommy and daddy. If he does...I’ll end them too.” Peter’s soft smile turned into a glare. “Don’t do anything that you’ll regret or that will be too...bad.” (M/N) huffed a laugh. “TOO BAD!? What are you five? Don’t worry it’s not like I’ll ruin their lives...just make it a little more difficult.” Peter put his face in his hands but smirked. “Sometimes I worry about you.”
“You love me.”
“Maybe TOO much.”
…
The rest of the drive had been pretty uneventful. Just small talk about what each other's day had been like. Peter had made sure to leave out the part about Flash getting him in trouble, if he told his boyfriend that he’d ruin his life even more than he already had. When they had arrived at the tower Peter wanted to do nothing more than to lay down with his boyfriend but Tony wanted his help in the lab.
“So I heard my son single handedly ruined a kid's life today.” Peter blushed at Tony’s words and focused on the project in front of him. “Ugh..k-kind of. I can try talking to him to undo it.” He heard Tony scoff. “Don’t you dare. That kid deserves it and plus...you honestly think we’d be able to get (M/N) to undo it?” Peter laughed along with Tony, at least he didn’t seem mad about it. “The question is kid...why didn’t you tell us? We would have done something a lot sooner and maybe less...intense.” Peter didn’t know what to say. He had wanted to tell them about everything but also didn’t want to at the same time. “Well, I DID want to tell you. I just...didn’t want to bother either of you. I just thought it was something I’d be able to deal with on my own. Figured it wasn’t that important.” Peter shrugged but felt Tony’s hand on his shoulder and he was soon facing his mentor/future father inlaw. “Peter. We both love you. Anything that deals with you is important to us. We want to make sure that you’re okay and living your best life. Asshats like that try and get off on pushing people around thinking they can get away with it. Now he won’t do it to you or anyone else again. Please, if something like this happens again tell us. We’re here for you.” Peter let out a sigh and felt tears building up in his eyes. “Thanks Mr.Stark.” Tony pulled him into a hug. “Anytime underoos. Now...Put away your tools and stuff. I’m sure my kid’s anxiously waiting for you upstairs.” Peter pulled back from the hug and began putting everything away. Tony going back to his own project. Peter was heading out of the lab when Tony called out again. “Also if you two get heated just make sure to wear protection!” Peter blushed. “Mr-Mr.Stark!” Tony waved him off. “Kidding! Kidding! Now go on!”
Peter walked to the common room where (M/N) was laying on the couch watching tv, when he saw Peter he smiled. “Hey. You’re done early.” Peter walked over and sat beside him. “Yeah. Your dad let me out.” Peter leaned his head on his boyfriends shoulder as the others arm pulled him closer. “Doesn’t sound like my dad. Maybe he’s an imposter.” Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “Did you really black list him from every college?” (M/N) scoffed. “Peter I’m not that cruel. I believe people can have redemption. But I DID block him from the good ones on the eastern side of the us. He can still go to community colleges or to good schools on the other side of the country. It’s not like he’s out of options.” Seeing his boyfriend's face he sighed. “Ugh. If you feel that’s too harsh I’ll undo it. But I think it’s the push he needed to understand.” Peter smiled at him. “I love you.” (M/N)’s breath hitched. “What? I mean I love you too but...how did that come about?” Peter blushed and kissed his cheek. “Because even though he was incredibly rude to me you still were willing to undo it for me. Which I don’t want you to. He’s rich, or at least well off, I’m sure he’ll be able to go across the country. And you’re right, he needs to learn...plus maybe I’m a little salty about the years of bullying he’s done.”
(M/N) leaned in, smiling at Peter. He cupped his face in his hands. “Honey. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I gotta say you’ve pretty much ruined me.” The two boys laughed at each other. “I’ve been told I’ve had that effect on people.” Peter leaned in and brushed his lips against (M/N)’s, who leaned deeper into the kiss. After a while the two separated and laid down together. “So...what are we going to watch?”
“Have you seen clone wars?”
“Duh.”
An hour later Tony would walk in to find the two boys passed out on top of each other. Quietly he pulled out his phone and took a photo. “Nerds. But they’re my nerds.”
#marvel#peter parker#peter parker x male reader#peter parker x male!reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker x male stark reader#peter parker x male!stark reader#peter parker x stark reader#peter parker x stark!reader
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serendipity
ahhhh she’s finally done!! now i can rest my weary soul. thank you to my lover @bfharry for putting this lovely event together, and i’m sorry this late, i’m a mess.
7k pining, fluff and smut
friends to lovers college au // trigger warning - mentions of illness, family death and childhood trauma, mentions of alcohol use.
She was reaching as high as she could, desperately trying to get to the book on the shelf that was much too high for her to reach. She turns to Harry, who’s smirking down at her with crossed arms.
“Need a lift, sprout?”
She gives him a look of eloquence. “Please.”
She giggles as he dips down, wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up. Now, she’s happily at eye level with the desired shelf.
Her fingers skimming over the spines of all the hardbacks sitting comfortably on the wood surface. E...F...G...H...
“Found it!”
Once her eyes lock on the title, she pulls the book out as fast as she could.
“Okay, let me down.”
“Sure? Don’t like the view from up there? Know you’re not used to it-”
“No, now let me down before I bruise you like the peach that you are.”
“Ouch.” he snickered, setting you back down onto the ground beneath. “S’harsh.”
“Deserved it.” she teased before he sticks out his tongue in a playful response.
“What d’ya need the book for?”
“It’s for that analysis we have to do for poetry class.”
He blinks at her once, eyes widening slightly. “What analysis?”
She giggles at his expression. “You didn’t read your emails, did you?”
“Fuck!” he exclaims, voice slightly above a whisper, but it was enough to agitate the other students in the library who are trying to either study or get their own work done.
“Shhh!”
“Sorry, sorry.” he apologizes to the people around them before Y/N puts a hand on his bicep and he leans into her to hear her whispering words.
“You just have to pick a poetry book, analyze it, make a conclusion, all that stuff.”
“So it’s like an essay?”
“Kind of.” she follows Harry as he starts to examine the shelves for a book himself. “You know how Greene is, he’s super chill. He wants it to be more of a review, what you think of the book and the author.”
“So, like a review.”
She blinks at him. “That’s what I just said.”
“M’tired, gimme a break.” he sighs. “He never challenges us in that class.”
“I guess not.” she shrugs. “Easy grade, right?”
“Sounds like it.” he gives a casual nod. “When’s it due?”
“Tuesday.”
“Sweet.” he nods, eyes skimmed across the shelves before landing on a cornflower blue hardback. Harry chose books by their cover a lot. Not metaphorically, just literally.
“Ready?”
He nods again. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Once they’d both gotten their book signed out, they started down the path across the patch of grass, making their way to their next class that they had together.
“So you really didn’t check your phone all weekend?”
He shakes his head. “No, my phone was off ‘cos Gem was visiting over the weekend, remember?” he taps on the side of her head with one finger. “Helloooo, earth to Y/N, you were there.”
“Quit it!” she scolds, swatting his hand away. “Yeah, I think I remember her. She’s the least annoying Styles’ sibling, right?”
Harry unexpectedly clutches his chest, wincing in pain. “Ouch, ow!”
Panic rushed through her, the first thing popping into her mind was that he was having an asthma attack. “Haz, are you okay?” she drops her bag onto the ground so that she can help him. “You’re scaring me, do you need your inhaler?”
He leans over, eyes squeezed closed. One hand is resting on his knee, the other still grasping at his sternum.
“My ego...it hurts.”
As soon as the words registered, anger washed over her, jaw rippling before punching him in the bicep.
“You’re such a little shit.”
“Oi, tha’ hurt!” he laughs, which makes her even more angry, whisking her bag off the ground and walking away from him as quickly as possible.
He lets out a lighthearted sigh before starting to jog up to her. “C’mon, wait up.”
“Go away.” she grumbles, quickening the pace of her steps towards the building that their next class was in. Her hand was less than a foot away from reaching the door, about to push it open but she was no match for his longer legs as he jogged to catch up with her.
“Hey, hey.” he manages to get her hand in his grasp. She turns around in his grip, eyes fiery with vex.
“What.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that.” he frowns, moving so that he’s holding both of her hands in his as he stood in front of her. “Please? M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the brick wall behind her. “Yes you did.”
“Let me make it up to you?” he offers, resting his palm on the rough surface above her head.
“Whatever you want.”
The pounding heartbeat in her ears is deafening, but the prank that he’d just pulled wasn’t quickly forgotten.
“I’ll let you know when I think of something.” Pushing herself off the wall, she turns and pushes the door open to the classroom, leaving a sad Harry behind. He trudged along behind her, silently moping before sitting next to her. Not even a minute after they sat down, Harry was leaning over to her, trying to get her attention.
“Y/N, please.” he whines, laying his head on her shoulder. “M’sorry.”
The butterflies in her stomach were crumbling her resolve, and she lays her cheek on top of his curls. “It’s okay.” he can hear the smile in her quiet voice. He peers up at her, an endearing smile beaming back at her.
“Not mad at me anymore?” he clarifies, voice filled with hope.
“How long have we been best friends?” she laughs. “Y’know I can never stay mad at you.”
“We were babies, don’t you remember?” he snickers. “Like, actual babies.”
Neither of them really remember.
Harry and Y/N’s parents had been neighbors and friends for years before either of them were born, and when Harry was almost two, they’d given birth to a beautiful baby girl.
“Harry, look.” Anne coos to her son as he sits on her lap. “See the baby?”
He stops playing with his teddy, toddling over to the sound of his mummy’s voice and he’s so fascinated, probably because he’s never seen a real baby before.
“I hold her?”
The new mum says “of course” before she gives her baby to Anne, now holding her in Harry’s lap.
“I pet?”
He carefully lifts a chubby hand, places it on her tummy and pats gently at the pale lavender onesie.
“My sweet boy.” Anne kisses the top of his head, smoothing out his blonde bangs.
Harry leans down and pushes a soft kiss onto her cheek, and it’s safe to say both mums melt at the sight.
“They’ll be best friends for sure.”
He looks up at the baby’s mum. “She seepin’?”
She nods with a smile. “Yeah, she's sleepin’.”
He gives her another kiss on her cheek before speaking again, this time in a hushed voice.
“Night Night, baby.”
“Our mums are never gonna let us forget that day.” he groans, twisting open the cap of the drink in his hands.
“Or that you had a crush on me.”
He nearly chokes on his juice, making her split into a fit of giggles.
“Maybe I did.” he admits, leaning his elbows onto the desk. “So what?”
“You definitely did, remember when you kissed me?”
His cheeks heat up at her teasing, arms crossing on top of the desk before laying his head down in embarrassment. He cracks one eye open at her laughing. “y/nnnn.”
When Harry was five and Y/N was four, he asked if he could kiss her, at school.
“You’re the prettiest girl in the whole world.” Harry tells her as his fingers draw in the dirt.
“That’s what my mummy and daddy tells me!” she cheers, and he may only be five years old but he knows that no other girl on the playground would happily sit in the dirt with him like she would. Her cheeks are resting against her hands and Harry thinks that they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen.
“Can we kiss now?”
She thinks for a moment before speaking.
“You can’t tell your mummy, because she might tell my mummy and we’ll be in trouble.”
“Won’t tell anyone, not even Niall.”
Her eyes go wide with a gasp. Niall was his best friend, he must really mean business.
“Really?”
“Promise.” he holds out his pinky for her to squeeze.
Unfortunately for them, while Y/N was over next door at Harry’s for a playdate Anne caught them kissing in the back garden and they were both forced into the friend zone. Y/N was super sad, and Harry didn’t like that one bit, so he tried to make her feel better.
“Don’t cry, someday when we’re grown ups we can kiss and hold hands anytime we want! We can be best friends ‘til then, okay?”
“The start of an epic friendship.” he reminisces, flashing her a wink.
“Good times and bad.” she nods, and the mood drifts to sad silence.
“We’ve really been there through everything, huh?” he acknowledges, meeting her gaze.
When Harry was twelve and Y/N was eleven, Harry’s dad left. Left his family with nothing and Harry was devastated.
“How could he? This isn’t fair to any of you.”
Y/N was standing in Anne’s kitchen listening to her painstakingly tell her what had just happened. He’d left while Anne was working and Gemma and Harry were at school, leaving the remainder of the family devastated.
“I know darling, but we’ll get through this. I’m worried about Harry, he ran off. He was so upset. Do you know where he could be?”
“I’ll find him.”
* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚
Her mind and legs worked together to pedal faster than she ever had before through the park behind their street. As soon as she crosses the bridge she sees him. He’s sitting under their favorite oak tree, knees dew up to his chest.
“Harry!”
She throws her bike down and sprints to him, falling next to him.
He looks up, releases the grip on his hair and reaches out, grasping her hands and she quickly pulls him into a hug and she’d never held anyone so tight in her entire life. Her own hot tears started to fall from her face at the sound of his heartbreaking cries and she doesn’t know how long they stayed there like that, slowly moving her fingers through his curls as she held him. He let out a whimper when she forced his face out of her neck, cradling his cheeks in her hands. He looked so defeated and she had to use every ounce of strength in her body not to sit there and cuddle him against this tree all night. His mum and sister needed him, and he needed them. Her fingers brushed across his wet cheeks and he leaned into her touch as she repeated the action.
“I’m so sorry, Haz.” another sob escapes him at her words. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can cry, scream and yell, whatever you want...but we gotta get home., it’s getting dark.”
“Don’t wanna go back there.” he shakes his head and tightens his hold on your shirt.
“H, your mum and sister need you, and you need them.”
“I need you.”
Y/N’s heart flutters and she’s not sure why, but she’s sure Harry can feel it because he’s still fisting her shirt.
“I’ll stay the night at yours, my mum won’t care.”
“What about your dad?”
“He’ll get over it.”
Understandably, of course her father wasn’t too fond of the idea of his daughter sleeping over at her best friend’s house, because he was a boy. But she reassured her dad countless times that “boys were gross” so he begrudgingly allowed it.
They’d cuddled countless times, that night was no different. She held him, stroking his hair some more as they talked. The mood is lightened after awhile. Even though the healing process hasn’t even really begun yet. Harry was gonna be okay, because he had Y/N.
“Gemma gets so jealous because she can’t have boys in her room.” he jokes, making her giggle.
“She’s also fifteen and has a boyfriend.” she reasons. “We’re just best friends.”
“True.”
Comfortable silence engulfed Harry’s room for a few moments, the vibe was mellow from each other’s presence before Y/N spoke again.
“It’s gonna be okay.” her voice was barely above a whisper, brushing the stray hairs away from his forehead.
“You don’t know that.” he whispers, peering up at her. The moonlight shining through the window is enough to illuminate their faces while they talk.
“Yeah I do.” she argues softly. “It’s bad right now, but it’ll be okay someday. Promise.”
When Y/N was seventeen, her world came crashing down.
“Harry, can you come down please?”
He quickly put down his phone, shoving it into his pocket when he heard the urgency in his mum’s voice coming from downstairs. Ever since his dad left he’d grown closer to his mum and sister, more protective.
He rushes downstairs, finding her in the kitchen.
“Mum? What's wrong?”
“I need you to go next door and check on Y/N, alright?”
His face fills with confusion and fear but Anne doesn’t give him any time to respond.
“I just got off the phone with Rachelle, she and Will had gone out to dinner and he started to have some terrible pain. They’re at the hospital now, they did some tests…they found something and they think it might be cancer.”
Harry’s face falls.
“Oh God, Mum—”
“I know, baby, I know.”
“Does she know? She had to work after school today, does she know?”
“Her mum said she was going to call her once she’d gotten home from work.”
“She gets off at eight thirty,” he pulls out his phone and sees that it’s nine fifteen. “She should be home by now.” He briskly walks over to the window that faces Y/N’s house.
“Her car’s there.” he reveals. “M’goin’ over there. I’ll be back.”
She agrees and without another word Harry’s at her front door.
Locked.
“Shit, shit, shit.” he mutters to himself before remembering the spare key under the flower pot by the door. Once it’s retrieved, his trembling hands fumble with the piece of metal before successfully unlocking the door and pushing it open. As soon as he’s inside, he hears muffled crying from upstairs and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s rushing upstairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Normally he would never just walk in her room uninvited, but when he saw the white wooden door decorated with silver stars all over, he wasn’t going to stop until he got to her. As soon as he pushes her bedroom door open, the sight alone is enough to make him cry. He watches her yank her desk chair out, screaming as she throws it as hard as she could across the floor.
“Y/N!”
He rushes to her, pulling her in the most protective hug he’s ever given. Her arms retreated to frightfully gripping the front of his shirt, knees buckling. They ended up crumpled on the floor, backs against the wall as he held her. Her gut wrenching cries were hushed by Harry’s embrace.
“Hey, hey—shhh. M’here, look at me, okay? Deep breaths, breathe with me, okay?”
“I can’t, it’s too much. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.” her cries made his heart ache, all he wanted to do was make it better, but he just couldn’t.
Needless to say, they’ve been there for each other through everything. Y/N’s dad passed away later that year, leaving everyone devastated. Harry waited a year to go to college to be there for Y/N and her mum.
“Are you excited for NYU?”
She tried to sound happy for him, but her voice was laced with sadness. His back was facing her so she couldn’t see his face as he glanced at the sunset out her window.
“M’not going.” he admits, voice small and her jaw goes slack.
“What? What d’you mean you’re not going?”
“Can’t leave you two here like this.” he turns around and tears are brimming his waterline. “Already talked it over with mum, and the bakery’s not really willin’ t’let me go yet.”
“Harry.” she warns.
“Hey,” it’s alright.” he pulls her into a protective hug. “We’ll get everything sorted out, okay? It’ll be nice to take a year off from school anyway.”
His lighthearted tone isn’t enough to soothe her anxiety. “You don’t have to put your life on hold for me.”
“I’m not.” he promises. “We’ve been there for each other through everything, yeah?” he pulls away slightly, giving her a warm smile. “That doesn’t just stop because we aren’t kids anymore.”
“We make a good team.”
Her words warm his heart and he turns to her, nodding with a sweet smile.
“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”
* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚
Her.
Admire her.
Tell her how the crinkles in her eyes are like crescent moons, glowing when she smiles.
Watch how she giggles at your jokes that aren’t funny, and how coy she gets when you’re sweet with her.
She couldn’t help but get lost in books like this. Somehow they managed to capture everything she’s ever been through, and everything she’s struggling with now. It was torture, really, being in love with her best friend, seeing him everyday, hiding her feelings from him in fear of their friendship being ruined forever. She couldn’t even fathom if that horror were to become her reality, she surely wouldn’t survive the heartbreak.
Touch her.
Tell her that the stretch marks that paint her skin are magnificent, and that her body is just one dazzling part of who she is.
Snuggle her with tender touches and soft fingertips, love on every curve of her body.
She found herself daydreaming at times like this—the midday sun beaming down on her through the window of the library as she sat in one of the lounge chairs, reading one of her favorite poetry books. She would think about how Harry would touch her if she were his. How he would caress her skin, what his lips could do, where his hands would go.
Adore her.
Cherish her.
Her reading was quickly interrupted, her vision obstructed by a pair of hands covering her eyes followed by a familiar voice.
“Guess who.”
“Uh...Bigfoot?”
“Heeeey.” he protests, moving to sit in the lounge chair next to hers. “S’mean.”
She giggles at his pouting, squeezing one of his cheeks. “Poor baby.”
“Ouch.” he brought his hand up to his face to rub the sore skin. “Like beatin’ up on me, do yeh?”
“Just a little.” she winks.
“Yeah, yeah.” he playfully rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the book in his best friend’s hands. “Whatcha readin’?”
Her heartbeat quickened as she realised that she had been caught, swiftly shutting the book and tucking it into her bag. “Nothing.”
“Nooo, lemme see!”
He didn’t give her another chance to respond, knowing her all too well. She shied away from his words, cheeks splashing with pink.
“C’mon, pleeease?” he frowns, nudging her arm with his elbow. He notices her apprehension, not wanting to push her.
“S’just me.”
His voice is softer, giving her a fluttering feeling as he leans in closer. “Y’trust me, right?”
The close proximity made her heart thump in her chest. She gives him a slight nod before quietly replying. “Yeah.”
He gently bites down on his lower lip, his eyes flickering from her eyes, down to her lips.
Were they going to kiss?
“Why won’t you tell me what you were readin’?” he quirks with a small smile, tilting his head slightly. You can see the wheels turning. “S’it naughty?”
“No!” she gives him a look, as if to say stooooop, Haz.
He chuckles at her nervousness, patiently waiting as she keeps fumbling over her words, avoiding his captivating eyes. “No...no, no, it’s a...it’s just a book.”
“Obviously.” he blinks. “What kind of book.”
“Just poetry.” she mumbles, hoping he would drop the subject quickly.
“S’it for your poetry analysis thing? What kind of—”
“Harryyyyy.” she whines, hiding her face in her hands.
“M’not doin’ anything! Can’t I be interested in what you’re readin’?” he defends, resting his cheek in his hand, elbow leaning on the arm of the chair.
“M’only teasing.” he swipes his fingers across her heated cheeks as he speaks softly to her. “You’re bein’ so shy.”
It’s so adorable, he thinks to himself.
“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” he reassures. “M’starving. Did you still wanna go to lunch?”
She perked up at his question, the book in her bag eventually forgotten, just as she wished. “Please, I’m so hungry.”
“Can we get—”
“Chinese?” his face lights up. “Please please please?”
“We had that last weekend.”
“So? S’the best food ever, and since when do you turn down chinese food?” he rests his head on the table. “I’ll help you with French Lit.”
“Compelling argument, I didn’t know you were taking a debate class.”
“So funny.” he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, please?”
* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚
“I love chow mein so much.”
Y/N’s words barely register in his ears, let alone his brain as he admired the sight of her, eyes closed in bliss as she slurps another noodle.
She’s just so fucking cute.
“I love you so much.”
“What?”
He’s sure his heart had just dropped into his stomach and his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud!
“Didn’t say anything.” he mumbles, mentally cursing himself after feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks. He avoids her gaze as he shoves another spoonful of hot and sour soup into his mouth.
“So how’s your story for creative writing going?” she wonders, twirling some noodles with her fork, because no, she didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and yes, Harry never missed an opportunity to tease her about it.
“Awful.” he pouts, to which she mirrors his expression.
“You stuck?”
“Very.” he groans. “Just can’t seem to get the words out, y’know?”
“I’ve been there.” she nods. “Do you want some help?”
“Please.” he begged, giving her puppy eyes. “S’due next friday, been workin’ on it every night and still can’t get a single word out.”
“I think you just need to take a break, babes.” she offers. “Let’s have a sleepover this weekend and I’ll help you.”
He gives a sigh of relief, making her laugh. “You’re a gem. What would I do without you?”
“Your life would definitely be less exciting.” she notes, taking another bite.
He was silent for a moment, probably thinking of a comeba—
“At least I know how to use chopsticks.”
“You won’t teach me!” she pouts at his teasing. “Quit being mean.”
“Want me to teach you?” he perks, peering up at her.
“Yes.” she lets out a breathless giggle while nodding.
He playfully huffs, slightly rolling his eyes as he moves to sit behind her on her bed.
“Okay, so you hold them like this…”
* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚
Friday, October 12
Dear Diary,
I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him. I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend? Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his. How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much. Sometimes I feel like I should just tell him, bite the bullet, rip off the band aid and hope to God that our friendship isn’t ruined forever. In a perfect world,
Y/N drops her pen at the vibration of her phone.
Harry is calling…
“Hello?”
“We’ve known each other for how long and you still answer with hello?”
She lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you having a bad day or are you just making fun of me for shits and giggles?”
“Lil bit of both, yeah?” she can hear the cheekiness in his voice. “We still havin’ a sleepover this weekend? Might have to do it at yours, Niall’s havin’ a party and I doubt we’ll get anything done.”
She could hear the sheepish tone in his voice. “Oh no, if you wanna be at the party we can totally reschedule.” she offers.
Harry scrunches up his nose. “Need to get this paper done, m’never gonna finish it with all the noise.” he’s lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Besides, I’d rather spend the weekend with you.”
She feels her heart flutter at his admission, cheeks tingling with heat.
“ Okay...can you bring some snacks?”
There were no two humans on earth that loved fruit more than Harry and Y/N. so around fifteen minutes later, when Harry showed up to Y/N’s door with two smoothies, she melted like sugar.
“Berry for you.” he hands you the icy purple smoothie in his left hand. “Strawberry banana for me.”
“Awh, thank you!” she gently pinches one of his cheeks. “You’re so sweet.”
“Oi, worse than my mum, aren’t you?” he rubs at the newly pink cheek.
“No.” she defends. “C’mon, I’ll help you with your story so you don’t drag it out all weekend.”
“I resent that.” he mutters, sitting beside her on her bed as he flips open his laptop.
“Do you have an idea of what you wanna write?”
“I have a little bit finished, now, about five thousand words. Wanna have a look?”
Y/N reads it over and it’s nothing short of a masterpiece so far. How can he be so pretty and talented at the same time?
“This is beautiful,” she gapes, turning to look up at him. “This is so good, H.”
“Oh, stop.” He sheepishly brushes off her praise. “Don’t think it’s bad so far, just need to come up with a conflict.”
“Just figure out what breaks your characters, what makes them the most vulnerable, what would completely crush them?”
“Losing each other.”
“More specific?” she tries, staring at the screen in front of her. “It’ll help with the details.”
“Rory’s afraid to tell Daisy that he’s in love with her.” he says. “He’s afraid that, if she finds out, it’ll ruin their friendship.”
Y/N’s lungs felt empty, like all the air had been sucked out by Harry’s words.
“Okay, um,” she gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “So...write about that, and see where the story takes you.”
Three hours later
“Can we take a break?” he groans, laying back on the pillows of her bed. “M’starving.”
“Me too.” she pouts, fiddling with her hands. “Whatcha hungry for?”
“Mmm,” Harry thinks for a few moments before speaking up. “A veggie grill just opened up downtown, we should go there!”
“You’re making me crave nachos.”
“You always crave nachos.”
“Why do you always have to call me out?” she whines, giving him a bashful glance.
“S’fun, innit?” he smirks, nudging her shoulder with his bicep.
“No.” she giggles, lying down next to him. “I’m gonna go get a shower then we can go.”
“Okay.”
An endearing smile adorned his face as she snuggled slightly into the soft pillows. Her eyes leisurely blink at him, falling closed after a few seconds.
“Sleepy?”
“Mhm.”
“Thought you wanted a shower?” he hummed. Although, he wouldn’t mind staying here all night. “You can stay here, I’ll go pick up some food.”
“No, it’s okay.” she yawns, pushing herself up off the bed. “I’ll be quick.”
* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚
Harry gets bored easily, although his best friends room was much more lovely than his. He thinks his room is pretty basic; but Y/N’s room was much more charming. The walls were painted a pale ivory, decorated with fairy lights above her bed, which was dressed with a crisp white comforter and matching pillows. The knitted plum blanket that Harry had gotten her ages ago for Christmas was at the end of her bed. He vividly remembers when he had given it to her.
Her eyes were sparkling with joy as she pulled the blanket out of the box.
“Your mum helped me make it.” he mentions with a sheepish smile. “She was so patient, even though I had no idea what I was doing.”
“It’s beautiful.” she beams, pulling it close to her heart before looking up at him as they sat on the floor of Harry’s living room. “I love it.”
He gives her a soft smile, but he feels melancholic energy surrounding him. He keeps telling himself that he didn’t have a reason to be sad, because they weren’t together...but all he wanted was for her to be his. She was so cute, beanie snug on her head under the glow of the Christmas tree.
“Can I ask you somethin’?”
To which she nods. “Of course.”
“Do you think,” his lips are pressed together in thought for a moment. “Do you think that fate is real?”
“Like kismet?” she cocks her head with a smile and he nods, breaking into a laugh.
“Yeah. Yeah, like kismet.”
“I think,” she takes a moment, fumbling with her hands before looking up at him. “Yeah, I think it’s real.”
Ten thousand words. Harry has to write ten thousand words by next Friday and he doesn’t have a single word typed out. Creative writing was supposed to be fun, and he had to write a romance fiction piece? Harry didn’t exactly thrive when it came to love. In fact, his love life was bone dry, to put it lightly. Other girls were...boring, compared to Y/N. Harry was charming and romantic and sweet and loving—but he didn’t want some random girl, he wanted Y/N to be his girl. Pining over her was his full time job, always has been.
He walks over to her desk, admiring the pictures that graced the wall just above. One of the photos that catches his eye is Y/N, probably about three or four, and her dad is reading her a bedtime story, her mum most likely being the one taking the photo. Sorrow washes over him, because it never gets easier, does it?
His eyes float to a few photos of Harry and Y/N laying next to each other on their friend Jess’s parents house on the terrace. It was the first time they’d ever gotten drunk and they were trashed. The first photo is them attempting to sit up for a picture.
“You guys are so drunk.”
“M’not drunk.” Harry glances at Millie and Jess, who were behind the camera. “M’Harry! Who’s drunk?”
Harry’s rebuttal left both of them bursting into a fit of giggles.
“Haz, Jess wants a picture of us, pleeeeaaaase?”
Harry holds himself up by leaning back with one hand on the ground, the other arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder. He then turns to nuzzle his nose into her hair.
“Y’so pretty.” he murmurs drunkenly into her ear.
“Shut up, you’re drunk.”
“M’not, m’serious.”
The last one from that night was them cuddling on the sofa at the end of their night, Harry’s face nuzzled into her shoulder as they slept soundly well into the afternoon.
His fingertips brushed across his favorite photo of them. They were working together at the bakery, and Harry had just traced his flour dipped fingertips in a line across Y/N’s cheek before she retaliated by sweeping some icing across the bridge of his nose. He grins from ear to ear at the memory.
“Hey Y/N, guess what?”
She turned around to face him when he abruptly drew a line with his flour dipped fingertips across her cheek.
Her jaw went slack at his bold action before icing was swiped across the bridge of his nose.
“Now we’re even.” that is, until she flicks some of the remaining blue icing from her fingers onto his face.
“Aw, c’mon!” he wipes his face with his apron before narrowing his eyes. “Really?”
“You started it.” she pointed out and Harry gave her a shrug.
“I am so gonna get you back the next time we bake at my house.”
His eyes fall down to her desk, and he promises he didn’t mean to see it. It was his name, in her handwriting, written in purple gel pen inside an open book. Was it a journal?
Friday, October 12
Dear Diary,
Shit.
He looked away for a moment, lip caught between his teeth. Should he read it? No, but he couldn’t help himself.
I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him.
Him? Who’s she talking about? Does she like someone? The empty feeling in his chest isn’t a good feeling by any means.
I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend?
All the color drains from Harry’s face.
“Is she talking about me?” he murmurs.
Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his.
His heart flutters at the mention of his name, aching at the next line.
How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much.
He felt like he was going to cry. How could this girl not know how much of a sucker he is for her? His heart thumped inside his chest and he could feel the heat radiating off his flushed cheeks.
Okay, don’t panic. Just calm down, don’t freak out.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he had just read whilst trying to decide what to do. Does he just tell her? Show her the page? No, she’ll be so angry that he read her diary, who does that?
In that moment, he chooses to do the only thing that makes sense.
He listens to his heart.
* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚
She’d just hopped out of the shower when she heard a knock on her bathroom door.
“Hey, s’just me.” Harry’s voice clarifies through the wood. “Already ordered some food, m’gonna go and pick it up, I’ll be back.”
“I can go with you if you want-”
“No, s’okay! Be back in fifteen.”
And he’s gone.
After exiting her bathroom, she changes into some comfy clothes before deciding to read something from her book collection until Harry gets back. WHen she turns to go over to her bookshelves, she sees it.
A familiar lavender book, her diary, was lying open on her desk, and her heart sinks. Had he read what she’d written earlier? That must be why he was in such a hurry to leave! She probably scared him off. Y/N’s heart was racing as she stepped closer and realised that the page the diary was open to wasn’t written in her handwriting.
It was Harry’s handwriting.
Hi lovie, it’s Harry.
I was too nervous to tell you this to your face, so I’m gonna write out my feelings.
You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I absolutely adore everything about you.
I love how you talk in your sleep, and yes, you do talk in your sleep. I know how much you love to snuggle when you’re sleepy or sad or you just want a cuddle...and how you still sleep with a night light on like when we were small. You always tell me it’s so you can see in case you need to get up and have a wee in the middle of the night, but I know it’s because you’re still scared of the dark.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was she dreaming?
I love how you crinkle your nose when you laugh, and how your smile glows like moonlight and how you play with your hands when you don’t know what to say. I love your love for books, and how much better your taste in music is than me. I love how you love to snuggle, especially when you’re...inebriated.
She giggles silently to herself, because he was so right. Not that he was any better.
I could go on forever, but I don’t wanna get caught writing this.
I am so in love with you, Y/N.
Love, H. x
Y/N didn’t know how to feel. Her heart was warm, but she was so nervous. What does this mean for them? How will this affect their friendship? Hundreds of questions run through her brain until she hears a knock on the door.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” she whispers. “Okay, just... be chill, please be chill.”
Trying to calm herself down in a matter of seconds was pointless. Walking over to the door, she took a deep breath in before opening the door.
“Hi.” he blinks at her, letting out a light laugh before setting down the two paper bags in his hands. “M’back. They didn’t have the-”
“I read it.”
He avoids her gaze and he feels frozen by her words, digging his vans into the carpet.
“Harry.” she breathes. “Say something.”
His eyes flicker to meet hers, taking a step forward.
“I...I love you.”
Y/N feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest, like she just came for air after being kept under water for too long.
“If this makes things weird, I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, but I love you to pieces and I-”
“I love you too.”
His smile is pure joy before he takes her hand in his, pulling her closer to him.
“Can I kiss you?” he begs, almost breathless. “Please.”
She nods, and he cradles her cheeks in his hands, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.
His lips were so soft, moving with hers like they were made for each other.
Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs straddling his hips and she sat across his lap. Her hands were in his hair, the fluttery tendrils twirled around her fingers. His hands are settled on her waist, slowly moving to her thighs.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs the serious question against her lips and she nods quickly. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” he breathes. “M’just checkin’.”
“It’s okay.” she laughs breathlessly against his lips. “Everything's okay.”
Reluctantly, he pulls back slightly to look at her, searching for any sort of doubt, but there was none.
“Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”
His voice is cautious. “M’not goin’ anywhere, ever. Don’t have to rush anything.”
“Just go with the flow, H.” she murmurs, sliding her hands up his clothed biceps.
“Sorry, who are you?” he raises his eyebrows, a baffled expression on his face. “Since when do you ever go with the flow?”
“A lot of things have changed today.” she confesses, hands resting on his shoulders. “Why not?”
They’d always felt so safe with each other, so now was no different.
They both dived back into the kiss. Harry’s tongue swiped across her bottom lip, testing the waters before lips and tongue worked together to deepen the kiss.
“Wanna ride my thigh?” he wonders, mumbling against her lips. “Don’t have to if-”
“Yeah. yes.” she gulps, moving to slide her shorts down while he shuffles out of his jeans. Once they were both without pants, they didn’t waste anymore time.
“C’mere, darlin’.” he flicked his fingers, encouraging her back onto his lap.
“Just feel my touch.”
The tone of his voice was unbelievably hot, raspy and low as their lips continuously brushed. His hands grip her hips, guiding her movements.
“Feel good?” he suckles on her bottom lip, drawing a whimper past her lips. She’s rocking against his bare thigh, coarse hair stimulating her even closer to the edge.
“Feels so good, Harry.”
Her moans are nothing short of melodic, chasing her orgasm through the lace. He pushes her t-shirt up, kisses are decorated down her neck until his mouth is on one of her breasts. She tilts her head back at the suckling sensation with another moan, and it’s so fucking intoxicating to Harry. His tongue flicks her nipple a few more times before lifting his head.
“Like that?” he hums, moving to cup her breasts. She nods and his thumbs start to tweak her nipples and she arches her back at the feeling.
“Harry.” she whimpers, gripping the material of his shirt in her fists. “Please.”
“Whatcha need, tell me darlin’.”
“M’gonna come, m’gonna come.”
He gives a thick moan, hands moving to hold her backside. “Know you are. C’mon angel, you can let go.���
His sweet words coax her through her orgasm as she’s coming down, and she feels like she’s floating.
“Did you like that?”
“Mhm.” she nods, her eyes fluttering closed as Harry’s hand brushes some baby hairs off her forehead. “Wanna keep going.”
“Jeez, at least let me take you out to dinner first.”
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Adore You
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Summary: 3 times Chris tries to tell you he loves you, and the 1 time he does.
Warnings: smut, angst, swearing, fluff
A/N: hope you enjoy!
Walk in your rainbow paradise
Strawberry lipstick state of mind
He first realized he was in love with you the first time he hung out with you off set.
The rest of your co stars were going to be filming late except you two, so you invited him over for a movie night, to which he agreed.
You had run around before he arrived making sure your apartment was presentable before he arrived. You made a whole bunch of snack, including your moms hot dip, which was a favourite of everyone who tried it.
When the doorbell rang, you walked up to let him in, and greeted him.
“Hey!” You said, giving him a smile.
“Hey, thanks for having me,” He said, taking off his shoes.
“Well, if you hadn’t come over, I would have had a very boring night involving me, my cat, and Harry Potter,” You joked.
He took off his coat and hung it up. He looked around at your apartment as he followed you. You didn't have a very big apartment, but it looked very spacious, especially for Los Angeles.
It was open concept, the kitchen, dining and living room all connected with a hallway leading back to what he guessed was the bedroom and bathroom.
“You've got a pretty nice place here,” He mentioned, as you poured him a drink in the kitchen.
You chuckled. “Well, it’s super cheap, it’s in a nice spot, and I knew the girl who rented it before me, she just moved to Hawaii with her baby daughter.” You finished before taking a sip of your own drink, and leading Chris over to the couch.
Your faded calico cat, Rella, lifted her head up and meowed at the two of you, before climbing onto Chris.
“What’s her name?” He asked, as he pet her gently, and listened to her purr.
“Her names Rella, she’s my childhood cat. She’s getting older and my mom thought she’s be happier out here with me instead of home in Canada with my 3 loud siblings,” You said, watching as she got comfortable on his lap.
The two of you spent the rest of the night watching Harry Potter, and chatting, before Chris headed out around midnight with a promise of movie night being at his place.
As he hugged you goodbye, he knew he wanted to tell you how much he loved you.
I get so lost inside your eyes
Would you believe it?
The first time he tried to confess his feelings, he messed up.
He was too scared to tell you face to face, so he settled on sending you a bouquet of flowers with a note confessing.
Which, he did, but he (stupidly) forgot to sign the card which would tell you it was from him until after it was sent and he couldn't cancel it.
So when you called him ecstatic about having a secret admirer, his heart hurt a little.
He was going to tell you it was him, but then you almost broke him in two with one sentence.
“I wonder if it’s from the man I’m in love with,” You asked, and his stomach dropped.
Of course you were in love with someone else. You were beautiful, strong, and an amazing actress. It only made sense, but it didn't hurt any less.
You don't have to say you love me
You don't have to say nothing
You don't have to say you're mine
When you announced you had a boyfriend, he tried to tell you again, which obviously didn't work either.
Instead of just calmly telling you about his feelings, and acknowledging that he couldn't have you, he got angry.
He wasn't angry at the fact that you were taken, he was angry at who you were dating.
“I cannot believe you're dating Noah Centeno of all people,” He said.
You crossed your arms. “What’s wrong with Noah? He’s a nice guy, and I like him.” You reasoned.
He scoffed and looked up from the carrots he was cutting. “You don’t love him.”
“I can see myself loving him,”
He dropped the knife, and braced his hands on the counter before lifting his head and looking at you.
“You should be dating someone you’re in love with, and who loves you back,” He said.
You slammed your glass on the counter top, and stood up.
“JUST BECAUSE I DON’T LOVE HIM NOW, DOESN’T MEAN I NEVER WILL!” You screamed. “WE’VE BEEN DATING A WEEK!”
“I DON’T CARE, Y/N! I’M TELLING YOU HE’S NOT GOOD FOR YOU, AND IT’S JUST GOING TO END BADLY!” He screamed right back at you.
“FUCK YOU! YOU SAY THAT ABOUT EVERY GUY I TAKE AN INTEREST IN AS IF IT’S ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS! I’M DONE WITH IT, CHRIS!” You screamed, tears streaming down your face as you turned away from him and grabbed your purse. You walked towards the door, and he came after you.
“Y/N, wait-” He started to say before you slammed the door in his face.
He turned away from the door to face Dodger.
“I fucked up bad, I know.” He said, and Dodger barked in agreement.
Honey
I'd walk through fire for you
Just let me adore you
Just as he’d suspected, your relationship crashed and sank to the bottom of the ocean quicker than the Titanic, but he didn’t find out until a drama news source got hold of the story, and announced it.
“Y/N Y/L/N and Noah Centeno are over,” The title read.
He knew he shouldn’t click on it, that he shouldn’t believe it. But, as he scrolled further, he saw a post from you confirming the breakup.
‘I hate to have to make this post, but certain organizations have somehow gotten ahold of the news, and there’s no denying it. Noah and I have decided to end our relationship. I will not go into details about what happened between us in this post, but it’s not hard to figure out what happened if you google it. I have no ill feelings towards Noah, sometimes things just don’t work out. We had a great time together, and I will always be grateful for him.’ The post read.
He scrolled back up and clicked on the article. He lightly skimmed through it, before a sentence caught his eye.
‘Sources are reporting that the relationship ended when Centeno was spotted kissing another woman in a Las Vegas night club, when Y/N was at home in Canada visiting family.’
That mother fucker.
He dialled your number and tried to call you, but you didn't answer, so he decided to text you instead.
‘Hey, Y/N. I just saw your post about you and Noah and I wanted to saw that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things that I won't mention over text, but I’m mainly sorry for what that asshole did to you. I’m here for you if you need anything, just let me know,” The message read. Sure, he had thought about telling you how he felt in that message, but he knew it wasn't the right time.
He sent the message, and you responded less than a minute later.
‘Why do you care? You got what you wanted, him out of my life. You were right, so I don’t know why you're even pretending to care.’
That hurt, he thought to himself, before putting his phone down. You were right of course. He was a complete asshole to you, so why was he pretending he cared, when he obviously didn't. He had gotten what he wanted, shouldn't he be happy?
Because you were hurting, that’s why.
Your wonder under summer skies (summer skies)
Brown skin and lemon over ice
Would you believe it?
He woke up the next morning, and decided that enough was enough, and he needed to tell you.
You hadn’t answered him all week, and he was getting annoyed. He wanted to talk to you, and sort shit out, but it’s kind of hard for him to do that when you refuse to talk to him, so he called Adrianne Palicki.
You were a part of the cast of The Orville, and Adrianne was one of your best friends.
“Hello?” She said as she answered.
“Hey, it’s Chris,” He said.
“Hey, what’s up,” she responded.
“Well, I was wondering if you could convince Y/N to talk to me,” he pleaded.
Adrianne sighed, before continuing. “I don’t know Chris, she’s pretty mad at you. I mean she refuses to even watch Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. any more, she’s so mad at you,”
He ran his hands through his hair as he spoke again. “I know. I messed up bad. I just- I’m in love with her, and I let my feelings get the best of me, and I want to make it right. I just need you to get her to talk to me,”
“Alright, I’ll talk to her. What do you want me to tell her?” Adrianne asked.
“J-Just tell her to come to my place Saturday at 8, and I’ll explain everything.”
“Kay, I’ll tell her. But Evans, if you hurt her, I think I still have my Mockingbird batons around here somewhere,” She threatened, and Chris chuckled.
“You got it,” He said before hanging up.
You had no idea how you had managed to let Adrianne talk you into this. I mean, you were still mad at Chris, and didn't see that ending anytime soon, yet here you were. Standing at his doorstep, at 7:55 on Saturday night.
You knocked, and heard Dodger barking before the door opened to reveal Chris.
“Hey,” He said, giving you a smile.
“Why am I here?” You stated, plainly.
He gestured you to come in, and you followed him. You took your shoes off, and followed him into the kitchen before you were attacked by Dodger.
“Hey, buddy! I missed you!” You exclaimed.
“Well, he’s not the only one,” Chris said, before handing you a drink as you stood up.
“Are you going to tell me why I’m here?” You said.
Chris sighed, before getting straight to the point.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted, and for what I said. It was stupid, and I let my personal feelings get in the way of our friendship. I really am sorry,” he said, looking you deeply in the eyes.
Your eyebrows scrunched.
“You’re personal feelings? What does that mean?”
He cleared his throat before confessing.
“You remember that bouquet of flowers you got from your ‘secret admirer’?”
You nodded. “Yeah...”
He looked up at you. “That was from me,” He said, looking down at his feet.
He heard the sound of you putting your glass on the counter, and he looked up just in time to see you walk up to him, grab his face, and press your lips to his.
He put his glass down, and wrapped his arms around you, before lifting you up and onto the counter.
A few moments later, he broke the kiss, and looked you in the eyes.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked, resting your forehead against his.
“I was scared. It’s a stupid excuse, but that’s it.” He responded, before kissing you again.
You don't have to say you love me
I just wanna tell you something
Lately you've been on my mind
Less than a minute later your back was pressed against the sheets of his bed, with his lips still on yours.
His lips left yours to trail down your neck, his beard tickling you sensitive skin there.
Chris ran his hand down your sundress clad body, and gripped your left leg, bringing it over his hip.
You moaned at the feeling of his jean covered hard on against your core.
You brought your hands up and around his neck. He pushed his tongue into your mouth as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He disconnected his lips from your skin, and looked you in the eye.
“You want this?” He mumbled out, and you nodded. He sat up on his knees and fumbled with the buttons on the front of your dress. He struggled for a few more moments before he gave up.
“I can’t get it,” He groaned, and you giggled.
You sat up and quickly undid them. Chris watched you for a few moments before he began stripping himself. Your dress was thrown on the floor, followed by his shirt and jeans moments later, before his mouth attacked yours once more.
You moaned out when he moved his mouth from your mouth to your chest. His hands trailed up from your hips, to your back to undo your bra, which he did successfully.
He threw his head back and moaned at the sight of your uncovered breasts, before pressing kisses to them.
You ran your fingers through his hair as his mouth moved lower.
He stopped just below your belly button, and his fingers looped into your underwear, before pulling them down.
He made eye contact with you, before lifting your left leg over his right shoulder, and diving into you. His tongue swiped over your clit twice, befarepressing into your entrance.
You cried out, and tugged on his hair.
“C-Chris, please,” You begged.
He removed his mouth from you to smirk in your direction.
“Yes, my love?”
You groaned, and tugged on his hair again. “Get up here, and fuck me,”
He chuckled, but did as you asked. He sat up and tugged off his own underwear.
He spread your legs again, before gripping his own hard cock, and lining himself up with your entrance.
“Not my fault you taste like fucking heaven, baby,” He quipped.
You rolled your eyes, and then threw your head back as he began to push in.
He bottomed out, and hovered over you again.
“You ready?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your nose.
“Obviously,” You said, before Chris pulled out slightly, and then snapped his hips against yours.
You cried out, gripping his biceps while he set a quick pace in his hips.
Honey
I'd walk through fire for you
Just let me adore you
“I’ve wanted you like this for months, baby,” Chris growled out, snapping his hips against yours. “Ever since our first movie night, fuck.”
You moaned out. “I’ve wanted you like this since before we met,”
Chris bottomed out, and ground his hips against yours.
“Did he make you feel this good? Did he fill you like this?” Chris growled into your ear.
“N-No!”
“Yeah, I’m the only one who makes you feel this good, right?”
You nodded, and moved your hips under his. “I’m close, Chris,” You whined.
“Me too, baby, me too. God, you kill me,” He moaned out. “How’d you manage to make me last barely 5 minutes inside you,”
He dropped his torso against yours, and grasped your face in his hands.
“I want you to look at me when you cum baby,” He moaned, his thrusts becoming erratic.
You nodded, and wrapped your arms around his torso as you were barrelling towards your high, as was he.
He moved his right hand from your face, and snaked it in between your bodies, his thumb coming to rub circles on your clit.
“C’mon, baby, let go all over me,” He moaned in your ear, and you were pushed over the edge.
You clamped down on. him, and he was pushed over as well.
Moments later, Chris collapsed against you, his head falling to your shoulder.
“I love you, too.” You whispered into his ear. “I realized I never told you.”
Chris chuckled. “We were a little busy, weren’t we?”
You giggled, before connecting your lips once again.
Oh, honey
Just let me adore you
Like it's the only thing I'll ever do
#chris evans smut#chris evans fluff#chris evans angst#chris evans#Chris Evans and dodger#chris evans x reader#smut#fluff#angst
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(Yan)Childe x Reader: Remember Me?
This is like my first in this app please bare with me lmao.
Rated: Mature
Words: 3.1k
Warning: Kidnapping, Name Calling, Bullying.
Second-Person POV:
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
You wince as you pick up the burnt food on the ground. You accidentally poured in too much oil and you threw the fish away. This was a simple Grilled-Tiger Fish yet you can't even do it. How clumsy are you? You picked up the failed meal and threw it in the trash. You sigh as you shook your head and went to the table to eat one of the fruits on the table.
You moved to the window and opened it. The sun shined bright, the sounds of people enticing customers to their stalls can be heard up to your house. Liyue Harbor is such a calm and relaxing place. Well, as long as you don't evade tax that is.
It's been years since you've lived in Liyue, in contrast to most people here who have a specialty in cooking. You only ever bought food here. You took a bite into the apple and got ready for the day.
You leave your house and walk down the stairs. Opening the door you're met with the friendly people of Liyue.
"Goodmorning Y/N off to work?" You turn around and see Ganyu walking towards you.
"Yes Ms. Ganyu, it's the last day before a week's break. I decided to get there earlier so I can get all my work done. I hate going on the weekends. Also, it's rare to see you out of your workplace, what brings you here?" You say. Ganyu giggles and pats you on the back.
"Well, I have some important business to do. Don't waste time and off to work you go! Can't miss any seconds, time is gold!"
You smile at Ganyu and continue your stroll to the outskirts of Liyue. You pass children playing with their kites, tag, and some even roleplayed as the Millelith. The vendors yell as they advertise their product in any way they can. You reached the bridge and continued your way to the statue of the seven.
You bow down to the statue of Rex Lapis. He was such a different god from the previous one you had. Reaching the building of your office, you fixed your clothing and walked proudly. Opening the door and walking, Something felt off. There would usually be people welcoming you inside. The room should have open lights and a warm temperature. Instead, the building was dark, and it's eerily quiet. You sharply inhale.
"Guys? Where are you?" You shouted as you searched each room you pass through. Was it a holiday and you accidentally went to work? But Ganyu would've told you earlier.
The moment you arrived at the secluded area, you felt a hand with a handkerchief pressed over your mouth. You look back and attempt to punch them. Your heart beats rapidly and you squirm. More men appear and one of them punches you hard in the stomach. You fall to your knees as they hold you down and suffocate you. Black spots forming in your eyes as the world around you is rapidly fading quickly.
"Is this one of the people on the list?"
"Yeah, he's the last one." The man says.
You try to struggle one last time as you close your eyes and drift to sleep. You squirm, punch, do anything. You struggle.
And struggle, and struggle.
And for the last time, you—
...
Struggle.
You were being held down by Alek. He has always done this to you for as long as you can remember. Your face smeared across the snowy floor. It was cold and freezing, why is your life like this?
"Y/N! I thought you wanted to be in the military!" He laughed, "Is it because your father is so poor he'd sacrifice you anytime to get money!"
You sob and try to push yourself up, but Alek steps at your back. Leo, your other tormentor kicks you in the face, "How about your mom? Is she selling herself again to earn money? What a whore!"
"My... Mom's not a whore..." You whimpered as the two boys made fun of you more. Blood trickles down your nose, you have a black eye and a broken self-esteem.
"Hey!" A familiar voice shouted. He aimed his arrow and shot it right beside you threatening the two other kids. Your eyes light up and you see your best friend Ajax. He slides down the snow hill and directs the bow at the two boys. "Let him go! Or I will shoot."
The two boys stare at Ajax. "And who might you be? We haven't met you before."
"Someone that will kick your ass and make you fear my name." The two looked at each other and laughed. They glance back at you and Leo picks you up. Ajax glare would be enough to kill these two. Without warning rushes at them. He raises his fist and punches Alek right in the nose. Leo drops you roughly into the ground and before he could do anything, Ajax swings his bow at him and uppercuts him in the jaw.
Your eyes light up as you watch Ajax beating them up a bit too hard. He strikes them with his bow without mercy. "Don't you fucking dare, return to this village. You got me!"
"Ajax..." You call out, he stops and faces you. "I think they had enough." He shoves Leo into a tree and approaches you. The two boys ran away with fear. He crouches and touches your face.
"Ajax, thanks for saving me again." You breathe out. He hugs you and lifts you. "Hey! This is embarrassing!" You hide your face and he bursts out laughing.
"You can barely even stand, don't get shy of a friend helping you out." He carries you and runs you back to his place. The wind was a gentle breeze you blush slightly as he passes through the village. He sits you on the porch and opens the door.
"Wait, is anyone home? I might disturb them,"
"Nonsense!" He pulls you into a room and opens the lights. "Stay here, I'll get something for that black eye and a broken nose." He rushes into a room. You hum and wait, he returns with an entire medkit.
"You don't have to, that's a waste of supplies. I thought you were just going to give me a cold compress—"
"Here have some of this, your nose is bleeding," He ignores your complaints and brings you a cloth. "Now for that eye," He takes out a cold compress and gives it to your other hand. You apply it to your eye as you wipe your face off the blood. He happily sits beside you.
"I wish I can be like you, strong, powerful, and brave. Do you ever wish to be part of the military?"
"Nah, I don't think I'll ever join the military soon. I like to fight but you're more fit for that."
"You're just wasting your time, thanks for being my sparring partner and the person that always saves me but..." You trail off.
"But what?"
"I'm someone you can leave behind. I'm the one getting prepared to become a soldier but I can't even fight those two. You don't even get training yet you're better than me. I bet you're just doing this because you don't want to hurt my feelings."
"Y/N don't think about that!" Ajax smiles, "I enjoy your company! Even if you win or lose as long as you learn with me I am fine with that!" your face heats up and you look down at the floor.
"That's sweet of you to say..." You whisper.
Silence.
His demeanor changes, "Y/N I've always wanted to tell you something, I've—"
The door opens, "Y/N I knew you'd be here. Your father is calling you, he orders you to go home now," He walks towards you, "Yeesh, what happened to you kid?"
"Oh just Alek and Leo doing their thing again... Your son saved me again sir! He's such a nice friend," You compliment. "I'm sorry I used some of your medical supplies."
"It's okay boy, I don't mind. No hurry, your father needs you."
"See you Ajax and thank you so much for helping me!" You bow down and run outside, waving goodbye.
...
You walk through the snow and trees. You arrive home and see a carriage and a ton of boxes everywhere. "What's this all about?"
"We're leaving, pack your things before afternoon." You stand there in shock. Leaving? To where?
"W-what! Father, why do we have to leave again? Where are we even going? Aren't we fine? You say if I trained and got in the military we'd be safe. W-why?" You stuttered. Looking at your father who's hastily fixing the bags. He grabs your shoulders.
"Liyue, we have the biggest chance of surviving there. We can't pay off our debt anymore, they'd kill us!" He yells at your face, making you shake in fear.
"B-but where's mom? And Ajax— I still haven't said my goodbyes to him." He grabs your hand and pulls you roughly.
"Your mom won't be returning any time soon, we have to hurry. And as for Ajax, I told him about the two of us leaving for Liyue. You're not good enough, look at you. Whenever you get back here you get beaten up by such a useless piece of shit. There's no time so get your goddamn stuff and let's leave this hell hole!" He pushes you and his words echoed through your mind. You wipe a tear threatening to fall down your face.
You pack all your clothes and whatever you can hoard in a box. You throw it in the carriage and your father commands you to get in. You are sad, at the sudden change.
"Hey! Wait up!" Ajax shouts. You see him out of breath, his eyes full of worry.
"It's best if you don't follow us..." You say. Your eyelids get heavy and hide your face. You look back once more to see Ajax chasing you with full speed. Your father grunts and whips the horse to go faster. You watch as he fails to match the speed.
"Wait, Y/N! Don't leave me please!"
And that was the last you've heard of your best friend.
...
The room is silent and uncanny. You squirm around and freedom has no avail. Your eyes are covered and your hands are tied. You start to panic and hyperventilate.
"Looks like the last one woke up," you hear a voice.
"Are these the hostages?"
"Yes, we're just waiting for the boss to return," says the other. Footsteps were circling the room. You feel like you're about to vomit. Your insides churn at the fact that you're kidnapped by other people in the room.
"This one seems to be eager for a beating!" The agent jokes. The blindfold tightly wrapped around your face stops you from absorbing info about the matter. Your hair gets roughly pulled and you gasp. They laugh at your attempt to escape from them. You hear the door creak open.
"Well hello there, you did a great job you two, now would you mind if you avoid touching the hostages?"
"Yes sir!" And with that, the two men drop you down. The newcomer arrives and clears his throat.
"All of you calm down. We're waiting for your greedy scum of a boss to pick you up from here in about an hour. There are 6 people in here, If he arrives early and pays, we'll set you free. If he doesn't," You hear him chuckle. "Every 10 minutes wasted I will pick one of you and make sure none of you get out of here without a broken bone or two. So hopefully he responds and gives the money he owes us. Just hope this boss of yours is kind."
Time ticks the sounds of your co-workers begging for freedom gets hushed by threats and punches.
10 minutes had passed.
"Looks like one of you is lucky," You hear a loud slap and a person groan. You witness your co-worker get beaten up. You flinch every time he begs for mercy. You hid in the corner of the room, hoping to dear god your boss would arrive now. You didn't even know nor want to do anything about this debt they were talking about. With one last punch, you hear a thud, ending one's suffering.
You try to calm yourself down but you can't stop it. You huff and puff loudly, sweating bullets, stomach-churning, dying from the anticipation. All of these give all the attention to you.
Another 10 minutes passed, it didn't even feel like it. Time was ticking too fast you've lost all hope of getting out of here.
"Sheesh, that old geezer really does not care about you folks does he? Now, who should the lucky winner be?" His steps got louder and you know he's going to hurt you. He grabs your hair and pulls your blindfold and throws it. He raises his fist ready to strike. "Now you little-"
"Ajax? Is that you?" You asked, blinking to clear the light. He's taller and has a Fatui mask on his face. He still looks as handsome as you remember. He halts and stammers.
"H-how do you know about that? Are you one of Liyue's spies? Or are you an eavesdropper that knows too much?" He studies you before saying, "Keep an eye on the other 5, I have to deal with this one." You gulp as he harshly tugs your arm. He drags you into the room beside and throws you into the wall. Your heart sinks, whatever happened to your best friend? You feel the tears swell up in your eyes as sadness overtakes you.
"A-ajax don't you remember me?"
"As far as I can remember, I don't know anyone that's part of an organization that borrowed money from us. I only know your boss, and his subordinates are going to get a good beating if he doesn't arrive with the money."
You stare at his eyes, it's devoid of the sparkling light of hope and kindness. It's empty and dark, soulless and heartless. You gulp and a tear escapes out of your eye.
"I'm a coward..."
"Save the tears and sad story for later. I'll get back to you after your boss returns." He rolls his eyes and scoffs. He stands up and he quickly walks to the door.
"I'M A COWARD THAT LEFT THE MILITARY AND YOU ALONE!" You shout as you reach your hand up to him. "I was never fit to become a soldier! And I made you suffer!" You sat down and tears streamed down your face.
Childe stops walking and looks back at you. His eyes widened and his mouth agape.
"Y/N? How're you— alive? My father told me you were taken away and you... died...."
"W-what? My father said that he informed you about the two of us leaving Snezhnaya to hide in Liyue. We couldn't pay off our debt, and mom never returned the same day you rescued me from those two asshats."
His eyes softened like every memory of you two together came crashing to him. A small smile appeared on his face as he approached you slowly. Each step he takes, you take one back.
"I'm sorry I- just hurt me..." His hand reaches for your face and he looks directly into your eyes. He leans in and you feel his soft lips touch with yours. The moment was bliss, you close your eyes and hold onto him. You breathe in sharply as he pulls out. He wipes away your tears and lets out a laugh.
"I can't believe you're alive Y/N. I missed you, and you aren't a coward," he says. Your stomach somersaults and you hug him. "Now, let's get to it." You look up to him and then A sudden sharp pain surges and paralyzes you. A knife digs into your abdomen. You widen your eyes and more tears stream down your face.
"A-Ajax?" You whimper and your body numbs. Your legs weaken and Childe catches you. He chuckles as he runs his hand through your hair. You cough out blood and he whispers into your ear.
"Shh... it will be okay. Y/N just relax, you'll be fine with me. Just sleep, we'll talk in a bit."
...
You flutter your eyes. Everything was so blurry, your body is ready to fall apart from exhaustion. The pain of your best friend betraying you loomed and haunted your thoughts. You sluggishly move and the pain shoots through your stomach. You wince and attempt to cover it. You realize something is attached to your wrists. You move your hand and hear the clanks of chains. You dart in that direction and see that both of them were chained in the wall. The room is pitch black.
Your heart races and you panic. You struggle but your efforts are futile. Something heavy was weighing you down. You look down to your feet to see chains shackled on your ankles.
Your breathing gets erratic, and adrenaline rushes through you. The sounds of footsteps came near and you waited for the danger. The door loudly opens and you see Childe enter.
"You're finally awake! Took you long enough, I know you don't like to keep friends waiting," He exclaims while crouching down to your level.
"Where am I? Ajax why the fuck am I chained?"
"You'll never be able to leave me anymore. We're going to be together just like before! Aren't you excited! We have so much to catch up to, after you left I thought you died! So I chased after you and fell to the abyss—"
"Abyss?! Is that why you've cracked your head and went mad!" His grin widens and he giggles.
"You've always been funny Y/N I've loved your jokes. The abyss was such a fun place. I always thought that if you weren't in this world anymore, you'd be there! But foolish little ol' me remembered you are an angel, they don't fall into the abyss. They fly up into the sky," He rambles with a twisted smile on his face. You raise your brow, scared for dear life.
"This isn't right Ajax! Y-you fell into the abyss?! What happened to you! Why are you doing this to me? Let me go!" You yell. His face drops and he laughs maniacally. He comes closer and rubs your shoulders. His hand runs down to your chest. He licks his lips and stares at your eyes, piercing through your soul.
"We're going to have some fun."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Author's Note: I swear to God idk what I just wrote ;-;
If you enjoy whatever the hell I wrote you can follow me on WP too!
https://www.wattpad.com/story/264619512-genshin-impact-oneshots-x-readers-x-characters
#Childe#genshin impact#genshinimpact#genshin_impact#childe x reader#genshin x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#genshin x you#yandere
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Stardust's commennt: Requests are open and I'm thirsty? Time to request Douma x male!reader position play :> (With Douma as our mighty and evil top uwu) feel free to make it as humiliating as you'd like hehe- :> thank you and have fun writing it!!
‘come forth, my king, for i am yours’ / Douma x Reader
warnings: NSFW, humiliation, boot licking, stepping, spanking, ass play, master/sub if you squint
words: 1,398
(a/n): Hi, yeah, can someone give me a crash course 101 on how to write humiliation? Also I hope you like the open ending bye 🏃♀️
-
You asked for this.
For the bruises. For the bitemarks.
For the sins.
It’s not like you can deny the penetrating lust, the creeping desires sneaking up your spine. Your nerves vibrate with a mix of excitement and anxiety, but you know it’ll all be worth it. You are his favorite, after all.
He could have any come at his beck and call, snap his fingertips, and have a whole line of beauties kneel before him, expose themselves and wish for his touch. But no, he chooses you each and every single time. Perhaps you’re selfish, maybe even haughty. Nobody can please the king like you can, and you take pride in your seductive ways and supple body.
Behind you, the tip of the whip cracks against the hardwood floor, mere centimeters from hitting your very flesh. You jolt at the sound, your breath catching in your lungs. You are his to play with. You are meant to bring him pleasure, nothing more, nothing less. Your entire body is his canvas, free and open for whatever art he wishes to create.
All of it turns out so beautiful.
“You really should have more shame,” Douma says, voice unamused. You know it’s all a façade, just him showing off his authority, yet you play along because that’s what he wants.
“Forgive me, your majesty,” you say feebly. Your eyes remained fixated on the floor; his shiny boots pass through your vision every time he completes a circle, his steps slow and calculating. Coming to a complete stop, he stands right before you.
“You’re like a filthy dog,” he spits. “Aren’t you embarrassed? Naked before your king, trembling with what? Fear? Arousal?” Clicking his tongue, his foot reaches forward and nudges your knee. “Clean my boot.”
Swallowing thickly, you do as told, bending down low until your mouth hovers over his foot. A sound of surprise breaks free when Douma squarely plants his other foot on your back, the pressure and weight pushing you even further down.
“I haven’t got all day,” he mutters, voice low.
“Yes, your majesty,” you answer. Tongue darting out, you lick the leather, the bitter taste nearly making you scrunch your face. Even though Douma can’t see your face like this, you know he’d know about your displeasure over the taste, over the whole ordeal. You want to look up at his pretty face, not at his boots.
Douma sighs. “You really are a sight for sore eyes, aren’t you…?” Removing his foot away from your back, he nudges your chin with the other. “Look at me.”
Letting him guide your movements with his foot, you finally get to look up at him. Dressed in fitted leather pants, a silken shirt with puffy sleeves, and – most importantly – a velvet cape, he appears like he stepped right out of a painting, features smooth and perfect. You unconsciously lick your lips at the sight of his bare throat, the sliver of his chest the shirt doesn’t cover. He’s nearly too perfect to behold, but you wouldn’t trade away this moment for the world. Douma scoffs, seemingly pleased with your response; stepping back, he settles on his oversized bed, hands pressed flat against the mattress on either side of him.
“Well?” he asks, head cocking to the side, “What are you waiting for? Tell your king what you want.”
You spring into action, then, scrambling over to him on all fours. Douma spreads his legs, allowing you easy access to paw desperately at his leather-clad thighs. “Your majesty,” you purr, nuzzling into him, “I want to bring you the upmost pleasure.” Scooching up onto your knees, you palm at his stomach, fingers brushing against the hard muscle hiding beneath the single layer of fabric. “I want you to feel truly wonderful, whether it’s with my body or my mouth – I want you to use me.”
At that, Douma rolls his eyes, yet he doesn’t bother concealing the wicked smirk that blooms on his lips. “You really are no better than a whore,” he growls. “On the bed, ass up. And don’t you dare speak to me unless spoken to.”
“Yes, your majesty-“
Smack.
Instinctively, you clutch your face, the throbbing sting in your cheek coming as a complete surprise.
“What did I just say?” Douma taunts. “Bed. Now.”
With a nod, you hurry to a stand, quickly slithering onto the bed and getting into proper position. The cool satin feels heavenly against your burning cheek, the strain in your knees from being on a hard floor for so long. Your eyes flutter as the bed dips under his weight, his hand caressing your asscheek. A flowery scent fills your senses, leaves your heart pounding ferociously.
“My, my, my, look at how hard your tiny cock is,” Douma says, wolfish grin evident in his tone alone. Your entire body jolts as he shoots a hand between your legs and taps the underside of your cock. You should be embarrassed by how swollen your cock is, beads of precum swelling from the head. “I’ve barely done anything, you know… Oh well.”
You hear it before feeling anything. Another loud smack resonates throughout the room, your entire body jolting forward with the sheer force of Douma’s strike. Right dead center, his large hand hits your ass and balls in one go. Everything burns; you scramble to catch your breath, your lungs squeezing from the pain.
Douma sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Ooo, that had to hurt, didn’t it? And yet look at you, cock practically drooling all over my covers.”
He’s right, of course. You’re so fucking wet that it’s not even funny. You really are just a lowly whore, aren’t you? As long as you can get your dick wet and your ass stuffed, you’re nearly willing to do anything.
“It’s fun when we play together, don’t you think?” Douma says, his voice turning chipper. This is the front he puts on before his people, this bright, bubbly king, but you know better. He’s a cruel, sadistic fuck, but by the gods does that make you want him more and more. “You remember this, right?” he continues, reaching around you to show you an ornate jar. Tinted black and embellished with gold, the scent of roses emits from its contents, sickeningly sweet yet utterly dangerous. He must have had it set out from before, probably from when he collected his whip.
You nod your head, lips clamped shut. Of course you remember that itty bitty jar. It’s a frequent sight whenever you bed with your king. Swallowing thickly, you watch as long fingers dip inside, collecting the rose scented oil. Your brain turns dizzy, thoughts muddling into some incoherent mess.
“Whatever shall I do…” Douma trails off, his other hand tracing down your spine.
A pitiful gasp escapes your throat as slick fingers prod at your entrance; Douma chuckles darkly, his fingers slipping past the tight ring of muscle. Damn bastard, he’s getting a kick out of this. Well, so are you, but it’s not like you’re going to admit it anytime soon.
“Give into it, I dare you!” Douma sneers, his fingers quickening into a merciless pace. “A pathetic whore like you enjoys this sort of treatment, huh? I bet you want my cock to rip you apart, make you cry until you’re nothing more than a sniveling mess.”
“My king!” you cry out, unable to hold back anymore. You shamelessly rock your hips back onto his fingers, desperate for them to reach that sweet, sweet spot-
A disappointed wail rips itself from your chest as Douma yanks his fingers out. Shit, now you’ve done it. You went against the orders of your king, and you know how much he hates it whenever someone doesn’t follow his orders to the T.
“Tch. Can’t follow a simple order… My cock only deserves the best, whore. Be a good dog and learn how to obey your master.”
“I’m sorry,” you babble, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor-“
Smack.
“Wrong choice,” Douma growls, warm breath hitting your ear. When did he-? “Listen, since I’m only going to say this once. You’re going to get fucked, but not by me.”
“Wha…?”
Craning your neck over your shoulder, you come face-to-face with Douma’s wicked smirk. With a deranged giggle, he holds up the whip.
Your heart nearly stops beating in your chest.
#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kny x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#demon slayer x reader#douma x reader#kny douma#douma#request
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what is kevin and betsy like? does he take therapy seriously or act more like neil?
(idk how therapy actually works since ive never gone so idk how accurate his sessions w betsy are okay bye)
kevin takes his therapy seriously, yes.
at first he doesn’t, when he first comes to psu. he’s too scared to tell betsy anything bc if she tells anyone then kevin is doomed.
but when riko is killed, he starts taking it seriously. it’s the main reason why his anxiety is amplified and his panic attacks and nightmares become more frequent. betsy is working through his trauma with him and bringing much of it back to the surface.
when kevin first meets dalton he knows he likes him. but he still isn’t ready to tell anyone, not even betsy.
unfortunately for him, she’s really good at her job.
“i want to bring the conversation back to this boy, dalton, that you said you’ve been hanging out with. he’s your friend?”
something like that.
“yeah, he’s a friend.”
“that’s good, that you’ve made friends outside the team. how did you meet him? i notice you’ve been bringing him up a lot lately.”
kevin kneads his hands in his lap. of course he’d make that mistake. “i was doing homework at starbucks, and he helped me with math and then asked for my number.” she nods. “now we hang out a lot. mainly at his place. i don’t want andrew and neil to scare him off.”
she nods again. “what exactly do you think they’d do?”
kevin shrugs. “i-i don’t know. but they’d get in my business and probably tell nicky or matt who would tell the whole team, and then they’d be all in my business,” he keeps going when betsy’s face changes an inch. just contemplating his words, but he reads into it. “-and i don’t need that right now. dalton doesn’t even really know that i’m famous. it’s too soon, and i can’t be outed to the public, it’ll ruin me.”
he only seems to realize what he’s said when betsy starts talking. “can’t be outed in what way, kevin?” he stammers. “i have a feeling you didn’t mean to tell me that, but is dalton really just a friend?”
kevin’s heart is beating out of his chest. he digs his fingers into his leg. “no.”
but betsy hasn’t batted an eye. “that’s okay. do you want to talk about it? you’re clamming up. take some deep breaths, you know i wouldn’t tell a soul if that’s what you’re worried about.”
he pulls his knees to his chest and drops his head. fuck. no one was supposed to know, not anytime soon, anyhow.
he composes himself, but doesn’t move. “i… like guys.” he lifts his head. “and girls, but…” he looks away. “i’ve been seeing dalton, more than just friends.”
betsy is smiling, softly. “that’s good, kevin. i know aren’t ready to tell the others, but you shouldn’t be embarrassed. not with me, anyhow.” he shrugs. “would you like to talk more about dalton or move along?”
he shrugs again. after a minute, wraps his arms around his knees. “he’s twenty-four, he’s a grad student... he didn’t have any clue who i was when he met me, i still haven’t really told him a lot.”
“that’s alright. things take time. i know you have trouble lettings new people in, and sometimes with physical touch, are there any problems there that you’d like to discuss?”
kevin glares at her, “i’m not talking about our relationship.”
she backs off with an easy nod. she does a lot of that. maybe that’s why she works.
somehow, betsy eventually cracks kevin on talking in depth about his relationship with dalton. she hears all about it when andrew finds out, then when allison finds out, then when nicky finds out.
when the foxes play never have i ever with dalton. that was a fun one.
“i’m not taking their side, i’m just asking, but do you think perhaps they could have been trying to get to know him and see if he’s all clear?”
he scoffs. “if they were they’ve got a fucked way of doing that. they got him plastered.”
“he didn’t have to keep drinking. from what i’m hearing.”
“he wanted to impress them, he’d never met them before.” he crosses his arms.
“did you try to tell him to stop drinking? was it the drinking that really upset you or that your friends were trying to get answers out of him.”
he frowns. “second one- but it wasn’t just answers. they went further than just never have i ever dated kevin, they brought up things like wymack and me having to get blacked out to get my tattoo covered, and… i don’t know, sensitive stuff.” the yakuza. “it wasn’t okay.”
“did you express this to them?” he nods. “you weren’t ready for dalton to know those kinda of things about you, yet.” he nods and looks away.
“stop reading my brain,” he mumbles. betsy takes it with a smile, but he’d be lying if he weren’t a tad annoyed about it. he didn’t think he was this transparent.
or again, maybe she’s just that good at her job.
contrary to popular belief, saying i love you for the first time didn’t mean that saying it again became easy all of a sudden. not for kevin. not for maybe two weeks, until he can get used to dalton saying it more and more.
he talks to betsy about it, just barely. despite everything he’s told her already, there’s something about this that he’s too embarrassed by.
the only reason he tells dalton is because he wakes up in his bed, sweating and panting in the middle of the night. the first thing he does is squint his eyes and look for dalton in the dark, and takes a breath when he sees him stir. he’s still here. he didn’t leave you. stop being delusional.
his hands are fists in the sheets, and he presses himself back against the headboard. you’re fine.
but he still jumps a little when dalton sits up. “hey,” his voice is groggy, and he rubs his eyes. he almost reaches for kevin, too, but stops. “hey, kev. it’s d, baby, you’re okay.”
“i know,” he whispers. “i’ll be right back.”
he steps out of bed, hands shaking, and zips across the room to the bathroom. it’s dark, okay?
he braces himself against the sink. “get yourself together.” he splashes water onto his face. it doesn’t help. he’s just wet, now.
he leans back against the wall and slides to the floor. here’s his dilemma. there’s a part of him that loves dalton more than life itself, he thinks. and by a part of him he means all of him.
so why is he so scared of it? of saying it freely, or without a second thought? he’s never done this before. he doesn’t know how it’s supposed to be, he just doesn’t understand why he so scared that he’ll get used to saying it and one day be reject-
oh.
dalton is up on his phone when he leaves the bathroom, and turns it off when he crawls back into the bed. “are you okay?”
“i’m fine,” he says.
“kev”
kevin tucks his hands into the comforter and balls his fists. “um, i had a dream that you left,” he mumbles. “i know it’s stupid, i just had a moment, it’s whatever-“
“no, it’s not stupid. i’ve had the same dream before… s’why i said i love you the first time, actually.”
kevin purses his lips. he can just barely see dalton’s frown. “um, don’t judge, but i think… i have a hard time saying i love you,” he mumbles. “so you just have to let me get used to it.”
“okay,” dalton says. “do you wanna talk about it at all?”
kevin shrugs. “i don’t know.” but betsy’s advice swirls in his head. the only way to know how he feels is talking to him, even if you’d rather not.
“you’re the first person i’ve had a real relationship with. i think i’m scared i’ll get used to saying i love you and then one day you just won’t say it back. reject me, or whatever.” he lies back and feels dalton following.
dalton is lying on his stomach with an arm over kevin and his chin on his chest. “you’re not crazy for being scared of that,” he mumbles. “but i can tell you that i don’t see it happening.” he brushes kevin’s hair from his forehead. “i’m not leaving anytime soon.” he kisses his chest since he can’t reach his face without moving.
“okay,” and kevin swallows his fear, or pride, he’s still not sure. “i love you.”
the next week at his appointment with betsy he tells her of the late night realization, and how dalton reacted to it when he told him.
“the thing to remember about dalton is that we know he’s not going to reject you out of the blue, yes? from what i see here and there, he’s not just a fling or a short time boyfriend, and he’s now made it clear to you.”
kevin holds his hot chocolate close to his face. he hasn’t drank any of it, but it’s warm in his hands and the steam is nice on his face. “yeah,” he murmurs, and without thinking, “i’m pretty sure he’s my soulmate.”
oh? “i thought you didn’t believe in that kind of thing?”
he shrugs in attempt to hide his shock from saying it, and then tries to hold back a shit eating grin. “yeah, well… it’s dalton.”
#kevin day#kevin#the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is#dalton miller#OC: dalton miller#kevin day x dalton miller#bisexual kevin day#exy#aftg#all for the game#the foxes#the foxhole court#neil josten#andrew minyard#betsy dobson#david wymack#Allison Reynolds#nicky hemmick#therapy
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No Regrets
Holy shit I finally wrote a full short fic!! I was inspired when @petra-realsnk posted this beautiful fic! I’m currently finishing up Chap 135 (so there’s spoilers for those who’ve only watched the anime!) in the manga and thought about a what if scenario where the Survey Corps didn’t try to stop Eren.
Note: I highly doubt that there’s a universe where Levi and the remaining Survey Corps members, especially Petra, would be okay with genocide but it was fun to explore the thought. (Felt masochistic, won’t delete later ✌️😘)
Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra
Genre: Angst. And it’s Rivetra but I don’t think this can be considered romance.
Summary: [Mature] Canonverse AU. Petra survived the 57th expedition and Eren was successful in his Rumbling. Petra and Levi questions if they made the right choices.
----
They never talked about it.
No regrets. That's what his whole being has been about since he joined the Survey Corps. Petra’s devotion to him pushed her to follow him to the end.
The end did come and try as they might to ignore it, they lived every single day questioning the actions they’ve taken.
Today's Liberation Day. The Eldians are celebrating the day the great Eren Yeager freed Paradis from the rest of the world three years ago. As with every year, the town square will have a play reenacting the Rumbling later this afternoon. They're also serving dishes from the now-extinct Marley. He can only think what Niccolo must be feeling right now.
It's their country’s way of showing that they've won. It's theirs. The world is theirs.
His comrades. Erwin. All of them died for this farce.
However, the biggest clowns were the Survey Corps.
Him, Hange, Armin, Petra, Connie, Jean, Mikasa. “The Great Heroes of Paradis,” people would call them in adoration and admiration.
Hange was still alive. She's still the Commander of the Survey Corps and she's been leading Paradis’s expansion with Armin across the flattened grounds beyond their little island. He doubts the both of them sleep well at night though. Last time he and Petra visited, he learned that Hange took down Erwin's portrait in her office. Petra cries whenever she sees Armin, remembering the boy who’d always talk to her about the ocean.
Connie went back to Ragako to build back his village. He never tried to make contact with them again after that.
Jean transferred to the Military Police shortly after. Commander Nile named him next in line. They needed to promote as many people as possible because there’s still a possibility that half of the military can turn into a titan anytime now, even with that fucking monkey dead.
However, a recent rumor reached his city that the Military Police’s next-in-line just shot himself in the mouth yesterday morning.
Mikasa, on the other hand, disappeared.
Levi tried to locate the Ackerman girl a few times. Mikasa can be downright disrespectful and insubordinate during his time as her captain but she's still family. They never treated each other as such but she still is.
His condition prevented him from pushing himself further the way he could before and he had no choice but to follow as Petra led him back.
With his injuries, he needed to retire from the Survey Corps. Petra, banged up with her own scars—physical, emotional, and even mental, also signed in her resignation the day he signed his.
They say it's because they are not in the shape to push through anymore. Besides, there's nothing else to fight except their conscience and inner demons.
The truth is that seeing the Wings of Freedom on their uniform made him want to retch his breakfast every fucking day. Levi once said that he'd kill Eren the moment he shows that he’s a threat to humanity. They all dedicated their life to humanity’s freedom.
You bore the wings of freedom but allowed a monster to clip away the wings of the rest of the world.
What a joke.
He’s snapped out of his usual episodes when Petra came in through the door.
“It’s true,” she says and he takes in the dead look in her eyes. He wished it wouldn’t look any deader as the day Paradis won but it does.
He remains silent, waiting for her to continue.
“Jean. It’s true. He’s dead. His fiance found him yesterday.”
Levi understands Kirstein. He really does. He used to be against suicide because so many people who want to live die everyday. Now though, if he had the will to point a bullet to his own head, he would.
But he can’t leave the baby in Petra’s womb fatherless.
“Do we deserve this, Levi?” At first, he thought she was referring to Jean’s death. All this sadness and self-loathing. “Do we deserve this? A home. A baby on the way.”
When so many beyond the island saw their own homes and children trampled on.
This is the first time she brought it up and he wasn’t surprised that she was the one who opened this conversation.
Petra is already a shell of her former self. He finds it hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d fight titans with fire in her eyes. Who managed to capture his attention since the day she graduated from the cadets. Who managed to survive when their whole squad and the fucking Scout commander couldn't. If they hadn’t fucked around one drunken night of loneliness and despair, he feels she’d lose all the will to push forward.
“How should I know? I told you before. The only thing we can do now-“
“-Is to live with the consequences of our actions.” A beat. She looks down and carefully places her hand on the bulge of her stomach. "Do you think he'll be proud of us?"
Another topic he tried to not approach is the baby. He knows that he'll never abandon her and the little boy or girl inside her but that doesn't mean he'd make a great father.
"Beats me."
She finally snaps. "Levi, just talk to me for once!"
When he imagined a future with Petra back when he was still her captain, he saw it happening with them winning against the titans. He'd kiss her on the battlefield in relief, not caring if fellow soldiers saw that he’s in love with his own subordinate all this time, as everyone cheers over the fact that everything's over and that they're now free to explore beyond the Walls. He'd awkwardly admit that her feelings have always been mutual and maybe he'd even propose years down the road. She'd laugh at him and tell him that age must be really catching up to him if he's actually considering marriage.
"Levi, please. You used to be so open with me. Please don't leave me alone."
She's downright begging now, her arms encircling around his waist as she starts sobbing in desperation. Petra clutches his hand, caressing the remaining two fingers on his one hand.
"Please talk to me. You don't have to carry this burden yourself. I was there until the end, remember?"
In a way, seeing her like this is a relief. Since they retired, he'd always see her walking around the house in a daze. The only time he hears emotion in her voice is when she screams out at night as she wakes up from a nightmare. She doesn’t talk to anyone else now besides him. Sometimes, he rarely even listens. When Hange and Armin visited, she'd make tea and serve them like a meek, little housewife and she'd force a smile on for their guests.
He hates it. This isn't Petra.
Her crying now and demanding him to open up. This is Petra.
He misses her.
And since he hasn't found his voice in the past three years, he answers her by abruptly spinning around, grabbing her ginger strands and roughly kissing her to shut her up.
His hand grabs the spot where her chin meets her neck and he clenches. He manhandles her to their room and he fucks her while also making sure he doesn't harm the baby. This is the only way they can communicate their sadness and understanding right now.
She accepts it all without question, her teary eyes staring at the ceiling above him. The only indication that she's okay with all of this are her quiet moans and whimpers for him to go harder and her arms clinging around him in desperation.
This isn't Petra.
He isn't Levi anymore either.
#rivetra#rivetra fic#fanfiction#rivapeto#levi x petra#petra x levi#petra ral#levi ackerman#petra rall
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I just saw your body swap HCs for the Bucciarati gang, so could I request one for the Crusaders? I also heard about your computer troubles, so if it’s too long and rage inducing I apologize. (Hope you can get your computer fixed) (also found out I could use emojis thanks to you!)🃏
|| sorry for the late response ! thanks for the concern, jester/joker ( whatever shall i call you? ) btw !
Original Post + TW : comedic, very light nsfw
Star Dust Crusaders | Bodyswap Headcanons
Jotaro Kujo
- The two of you were heading out to buy some cold beverages when you were hit with the stand attack that wasn’t even all that surprising seeing as Dio had sent non-stop, relentless attacks against you all ever since your journey had began. What was surprising was the stand’s effects however.
- When you staggered backwards, you had unfortunately hit your head against a stop street sign that hurt more than you wanted to admit. There was some shock though, as you hadn’t bashed against the pole of the sign but the actual image it displayed it’s self - something you were sure you were too short to reach. “How the hell?” You muttered to yourself while rubbing the back of your hair, pausing when you realised how freakishly different your hair felt. Not to mention, when you looked down, those were definitely not your clothes.
- “You tell me.” A voice- Your voice responded, your own eyes glaring at you yet from a much lower angle. Shit, you were tall. Or, was this body tall? If you had to guess by your fashion, height and the fact you could see yourself and not Jotaro; well the dots were easy to connect.
- “Fuck, I’m you!” “No shit.” “Why the hell are you so god damn tall?” “That’s your issue?”
- “Ugh, suck my dick.” You groaned at his tone, already hating the situation. A guy was in your body and though you knew Jotaro wasn’t the shifty type, it was still uncomfortable to think about.
- “Don’t you mean my dick?”
- Ah, he shouldn’t have said that. The two of you both stared at each other in awkward silence, Jotaro visibly regretting what he had let slip and you, slowly starting to laugh. Your laughter was a strange sound seeing as it sounded way deeper than your original one. This must be what Jotaro sounded like when he laughed … it was nice.
- Jokingly, you wagged your brows, “does this mean you want me to whip it out?” If it wasn’t your face, you’d die of laughter at the distraught Jotaro showed, followed with a hint of fluster.
Noriaki Kakyoin
- “Now, don’t freak out,” Kakyoin tried to soothe, hands holding out to stop you from doing anything rash which didn’t work too well when even he was panicking internally. After all, the one he had to comfort had his face.
- “There’s no way I can’t, I’m… I’m you! You’re me!” Of all the times to be in a stand user’s way, why did it have to be this one ? And w h y did this weird strand of hair keep getting into your mouth?! Seriously, how does Kakyoin manage to look so cool with this pest in his face all the time?
- That wasn’t the only problem though, no. You just had to swap bodies with someone you not only thought of as cool and amazing, but freakishly handsome too. Yet you were convinced you were anything but that. Bending down, you took hold of the jacket on your body, one that Kakyoin’s mind was currently in. “What are you doing?” He asked with a confused look, watching you zip up the jacket which was horribly confusing since he had to watch his own hands fix a jacket that wasn’t even his own.
- “Zipping your- my jacket! Just don’t pay too much attention to me, ok? I’m such a mess,” you mumbled, fumbling with the zipper. Gah, you weren’t used to having such long and thin fingers. Kakyoin in return narrowed his brows, his temporarily smaller hands going over your’s.
- “Don’t start with that [First Name], you’re perfect the way you are. How we look is not our biggest problem anyways, we need to find that stand user and quick.” As much as you didn’t want to say it, he was right. You couldn’t focus on this, not when you didn’t know how permanent this situation could be. Nodding, you agreed.
- Kakyoin then smiled, a hand placing it’s self on your shoulder. [He died a little inside when he realised he had to go on his tip toes to do this.] “Come on, after all this I’ll treat us to something nice.”
Joseph Joestar
- “OH MY GO-” Joseph tried to yell but stopped abruptly when he realised how horribly strange it sounded in your voice. Of all the days you both agreed to team up, this had to be the one.
- While he was panicking in your body, you were staring at yourself in a mirror’s reflection, flexing your arm with an interested look. The way his muscles tensed and relaxed was way too good not to admire, not when his short sleeves left little to the imagination. Even for his age, this man seriously looked good and you couldn’t even try to hide that thought from him; so you didn’t. With a low whistle, you found a new pose to show off the Joestar’s muscles in, “not bad, old man. Guess you don’t skip gym day even on a retirement plan.”
- Joseph had to double take at your comment. “I’m not that old, and I sure as hell am not retiring anytime soon!” He argued, huffing before storming up to you and shoving you away from the mirror. Admittedly, he was pleasantly surprised by your praise to his physique and it really did get to his head, “you can stare all you want at my body later when we’re not facing serious danger, just get a move on now!”
- Raising a brow at the comment, you smirked to yourself as you watched your own body try to push the one you were in currently. Wonder how it felt for him. The guy would probably get a kick out of it if he just let him relax like you were. “Is that a promise? ‘Cause you can have front row tickets to your own show if you really want, Mr Joestar.” You cooed, dropping a formal title as though you weren’t suggesting something incredibly personal at all. At least it got a good reaction out of him, seeing as he paused his efforts to get you moving to stare at you with surprise. This then made you laugh, a gloved finger then moving to gently press his nose to pull him out of his dazed state. “Just kidding, pervert.”
- After that, you started to walk off ahead of him as he tried to collect his thoughts, his final reaction leaving him grumbling over what a damn tease you are and that there was no way he’d settle for the treatment you had just given him.
Mohammed Avdol
- Neither of you were too panicked by the situation thankfully, but there was still an awkwardness between you. Luckily, neither of you were the type to get too handsy and experimental with your comrade’s body so there was a strong bond of trust.
- “Doesn’t all this clothing get uncomfortable in the heat?” You questioned while on your search for the stand user, making a gesture to his body which was your’s for the time being. It was insanely hot and though you were sure you had a little bit of his endurance, the heat was agonising. “Even your stand uses fire! Doesn’t it bother you at all?”
- Avdol chuckled in response to that, his laugh not being nearly as satisfying and fun to hear as it sounded more like you than the man himself. Shaking his head, he answered casually, “I don’t mind much at all. I was raised in the heat and when you are brought up like that, you grow accustomed to it. Magician’s Red’s ability doesn’t affect me at all either, seeing as he is my stand.” He enjoyed answering your many questions you always seemed to have for him, it made him feel wise and secretly savoured every second the two of you spent alone together. Not only were you good company, but you were deeply treasured in his heart. That was something for another day however.
- “Really?” You were surprised that he could stand this at all. It was already becoming bothersome for you. Instinctively, you took a hold of the bottom of his shirt and pulled it forwards and backwards to make some air flow across your stomach and chest. While doing so, you looked down for a split second to really take in the fact that you were in a whole other person’s body and your breath hitched at the short glimpse you had of his chest. You knew this man was healthy but you had no idea he was that fit. Wasn’t he like a semi-pacifist sorta guy?!
- Your sudden silence had concerned Avdol, leading him to questioning you. “Are you alright, [First Name]?” He was too much of a sweetheart to be real. You forced a smile and nodded, humming a happy reply. The best you could do really when you were too ashamed and surprised that you had seen the body of a god.
- “Yeah I’m alright! Just checking out the hot body I mean weather! It’s like… really hot. So let’s find the stand user soon so I can feel cool again, haha!” Totally played it off well. Avdol seemed skeptical but he moved on, nodding in agreement with a determined look. You two really did have a goal to complete and fast.
- Even so, he knew what you had done and found it incredibly adorable how worked up it had got you.
Jean Pierre Polnareff
- The moment the shock of your minds switching bodies had subsided, Polanreff’s prioritises had gotten a little jumbled. His arms wrapped around his body, which really meant your’s, caressing each curve and swayed side to side with a dreamy expression. In fairness, he did feel like he was in a dream. He was in your body! It was so soft and perfect and whooo, did he mention soft? This chest was made for loving and supporting a head, and Polnareff was seriously looking for a pillow.
- “Ma cherie, you’re just so gorgeous! You’re so wicked to have kept this from me all this time,” he exaggeratedly complained while his hands still roamed his new, greatly admired body. You on the other hand, were a blushing mess who was trying to get him to stop.
- “Polnareff, please! We need to get going,” you insisted, trying to pull his arms away as you shut your eyes tight to avoid seeing his actions. One pro side of being in his body was adopting his incredible strength.
- “Ah, oui, we shall go! But please, I need to let you know there is no way I can pass up on admiring this.” Oh please someone stop him now. “I mean, have you seen this rump?” Almost screeching, you slapped a hand over his lips and shook your head quickly with a stressed look. You were going to die of shame before any of Dio’s henchmen or women would even get to your first.
- He stared up at you with confusion before finally letting it sink in just how crude he was being. It wasn’t like he whole heartedly meant to! He just really appreciated your appearance. “Sorry cherie, I suppose I went to far, hm? I just couldn’t help myself.”
- You, unable to stay mad at the french man for longer than even a day, sighed and waved it off, knowing he meant no real harm. “It’s alright but please, we really should try and find a way to revert to our original bodies.”
- “Of course!” He enthusiastically agreed, taking a hold of your hand before starting to march off to whatever direction he so needed to go to - meaning, a random one he picked and prayed for the best. “There’s no way I can truly engross myself with your perfections from a first person’s perspective! As soon as we’re in our bodies, you’ll be showing me everything, cherie!”
- Honestly, you were a little excited by that.
Iggy
- “AAAAAH.” “woof.” “AAAAH” “wOOF?!” “AAAAAA-” “WOOOOO-”
- mother fucker you are a dOG.
#jjba x reader#request#Jean Pierre Polnareff#polnareff x reader#Jotaro Kujo#jotaro x reader#Joseph Joestar#joseph joestar x reader#oldseph#muhammad avdol#avdol x reader#kakyoin x reader#noriaki kakyoin#iggy
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