#(no it isn’t 6am shh) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

changingplumbob · 11 months ago

Text

Knightstone Household: Chapter 8, Part 1

I missed them a lot! My aliens differ from my human sims in that I let them have alpha hair. In this part the family spend some time together before Suzanna and Adam make the first trip to Sixam.

Nicknames Suzanna is Mummy or Starlight Adam is Pops or My Heart Silas is Starshine Pollock is Pol or Moondust

Had a few false starts (I had to stop an alien abduction, can you believe the audacity???) but otherwise found the family bubbly.

Silas: Mummy, come! Mummy, come!

Pollock: *coos*

Silas: Mummy! Hurry!

Suzanna: Calm down Starshine, I’m here. What’s happening

Silas: Pol gonna do cool thing

Pollock: *coos happily*

Silas: You do it Pol, you do it

Suzanna: *yawns* Do what

Pollock: *coos*

Silas: He gonna do it

Suzanna: He’ll have to do it soon because it’s 3am. Silas we need to get you to bed

Silas: Mummy, Mummy, watch!

Suzanna: He has rolled over before Silas. Are you trying to do something else Pollock? Because if not it is beyond bedtime

Pollock rolls with a grunt and twists himself up into a seated position. He sits now!

Silas: See Mummy see

Suzanna: *sleepily* Well done Moondust. You’ll have to show Pops in the morning, yes you *yawns* will

Pollock: *coos happily*

Suzanna picks Pollock up off the playmat and tries to usher Silas to bed.

Suzanna: Silas it’s bedtime now

Silas: But Mummy-

Suzanna: Me and Pollock will be in soon

Silas: Good. We brothers, we share room

Suzanna watches Silas toddle off with a smile, glad her babies are getting along for now.

Pollock: *cries*

Suzanna: Oh! I know, I know, you want to wiggle free. But you must be hungry now, how about some milk huh? Will that make things better?

Pollock fills up on milk then spits out some with his gas, just to remind Suzanna that being held is actually the worst thing in the world. Suzanna musters the little energy she has and tries to settle him.

Suzanna: *playfully* Hey now Mr grumpy face, are you grumpy? Are you a grump grump?

Pollock: *coos*

Suzanna: I know what’ll help. One, two, blast off!

Suzanna rocks him through the air, and blows a raspberry for good measure. Sure enough the session ends with a smile from Pol.

Silas: Mummy you forever

Suzanna: Did you remember to use the potty

Silas: Yes Mummy. Can Pol be in with me

Suzanna: I’m sorry Starshine, Pollock is still too little to share. He needs his own space

Silas: *sighs* yes Mummy

Suzanna: Goodnight Pol. When you wake up tomorrow Pops will be here to say hi, yes he will

Silas: Night night Pol, night night Mummy

Suzanna: *chuckles* Goodnight my Starshine. Happiest of happy dreams, may they carry you through the galaxy

With both kids asleep Suzanna heads to bed. Half asleep is Adam who was not on infant wrangling duty tonight.

Adam: Did they fall asleep okay

Suzanna: Shh, go back to sleep my heart, this is a dream

Adam: It does feel like it *proceeds to snore*

Suzanna: *chuckles* I love you

6am rolls around and both Silas and Pollock wake up (they both have the early riser quirk).

Pollock: *yawns*

Silas: Morning Pol. You sleep good. We have fun fun today. I find something together for you and me

*alarm clock blares*

Adam: I wish we could just turn it off with our mind

Suzanna: You and me both. *sighs* Today is finally the day Adam

Adam: *quietly* Sixam

Suzanna: Sixam

…

Silas: That why best toy is-

Adam: How are my dudes this morning

Silas: Pol wants tension

Adam: Attention my son, attention

Silas: *sings to self* attention, attention, we want attention

Pollock: *coos*

Adam: Do you like your brother’s singing Pollock? He’s very good isn’t he (the first time Silas sang Adam thought he was malfunctioning)

Silas: Mummy mummy, how you? You beauty

Suzanna: *laughs* are you coping Pops again huh

Silas: Yes, Pops say I charmer like him. Mummy can I has food

Suzanna: Of course you can. What do you feel like

Silas: Cereal?

Suzanna: You know Pops doesn’t trust cereal, we better see what’s in the fridge

Adam meanwhile takes Pollock who needs a new diaper to the changing table (I’m sorry Adam I forgot you were now squeamish)

Adam: *grits teeth* Let’s do this dude. Now… be cool, be cool

Suzanna: we have some fruit salad, how does that sound

Silas: Good Mummy, you eat with me?

Suzanna: Absolutely

Silas: Pol eat with us?

Suzanna: Maybe. He is able to sit now so we cold try some food when Pops has him ready

...

Adam: Be cool, be cool-

Pollock: *coos as pee goes everywhere*

Adam: *dry heaves* dear watcher that’s horrid

Pollock is zero percent concerned by Adam’s dismay.

Silas: Mummy, you and Pops go Sixam today?

Suzanna: Yeah, we’re going to check it out for you. Maybe meet some more aliens

Silas: Tell other aliens I say hi and I best brother and I want be friends with them

Suzanna: *chuckles* Deal Starshine

Silas: Mummy like to hear my welcome song for other aliens? I practice

Suzanna: Dazzle me

Silas: *clears throat dramatically* Ol Gabby had a frog, eggplant, eggplant. Ol Gabby had a frog, leopard tiger heart

Suzanna isn’t sure how that ditty works as a welcome song but cheers for Silas just like she always does.

Adam: Here we are, one free of pee infant

Suzanna: Congratulations on surviving

Adam: It was a close call, I almost drowned

Silas: Yay Pol here, Pol here! *sings to Pollock*

Adam: And what am I? Invisible? You didn’t have cereal did you

Suzanna: Of course not. I think I should try Pollock with some food before his milk, he might feel like it now he can sit up

Adam: Sweet. I’ll grab breakfast then

Silas: Mummy, mummy, try yoghurt! I like yoghurt, Pol will like yoghurt

Pollock: *looks around in confusion*

Suzanna: 3, 2, 1… we have liftoff! The spaceship has successfully launched, flying through the air with its yoghurt surprise

Silas: *giggles*

Suzanna: Come on Moondust, open wide for the spaceship *makes spaceship noises*

Pollock opens his mouth to coo questioningly but before he can, in goes the yoghurt! He’s startled at first, what is this stuff that’s not milk? Whatever it is… it does taste nice.

Pollock: *coos happily*

Silas: See Mummy, I said Pol like yoghurt

Adam: Appears he does, good call little dude

The next spoon has too much on it, and yoghurt falls out of Pollocks mouth. He find this fascinating and immediately begins to pat at it in wonder, making Suzanna laugh and Adam recoil.

Silas: Pops, will other aliens like us? We from Earth not six… six…

Adam: Sixam. Who cares if the snobby aliens don’t like you just because we’re from earth? It would be their own fault anyway for leaving mummy and me in humans

Suzanna: *tuts* Adam, really?

Adam: Why should he think they’re not snobs? They left us here

Silas: Pops… mad at aliens

Suzanna shoots Adam a quick look between spoonful’s, letting him know to choose his next words carefully.

Adam: We don’t know them son, it would be *looks at Suzanna and sighs* silly to be mad without knowing them or why they left us

Silas: So Pops not mad

Adam searches for the right words. He’s pissed at whoever implanted him in a human and moved on, but Silas was born from love. He shouldn’t have to inherit Adam's burden of hate. Luckily, as often happens, Suzanna swoops in and saves him before he can let his anger get the better of him.

Suzanna: Pops has lots of emotions Starshine. When you get big, you’ll understand that it can be very tricky to sort through them

Silas: Okay Mummy

Once let out from his high chair, Silas wanders over to an already free Pollock who is gazing at the computer. Silas decides to have some fun and blows a few raspberries on his little brother's tummy.

Suzanna: Come here Moondust. I know you don’t like to be held but we’re getting some visitors later and they’ll need to hold you while Pops and Mummy visit Sixam. We have to practice. You can go in the back carrier while I garden

Silas: Mummy, I come in garden. I play truck

Suzanna: Could you sing me a song while you play truck

Silas: *smiles* YES! I sing for you

So Suzanna sets about tending to the garden. Pollock is quite happy right now, his disgust over being held doesn’t outweigh it. Adam also steps in to help garden since he knows if he doesn’t Suzanna won’t be ready to leave until the afternoon. He would rather get the trip over with. Find some alien to complain to, job done.

Yolanda: Sorry if I’m late

Suzanna: You’re not, I only just finished the garden. Okay Pollock, this is Yolanda. She’s a very nice alien, just like us!

Pollock: *coos nervously*

Adam: We better head off. You’re in charge my son

Silas: *laughs* Yes Pops

Yolanda: Can you say bye to your parents Pollock? Can you say bye bye Mummy? huh?

Pollock: *cries*

Suzanna: Adam... maybe we shouldn’t go

Adam: You’ve been waiting for this for forever, we’re going. Yolanda will keep the children safe and you know little dude just cries at the drop of a hat

Through the wormhole we go!

ON SIXAM

Suzanna: Wait... did I calibrate it right?

Adam: Of course you did

Suzanna: But My Heart, if this is Sixam… where are all the aliens?

Adam: My guess? Probably hiding in shame for implanting innocent babies into unsuspecting humans

Suzanna: I know we seem to have landed at night but you think there would be at least one… Or some buildings...

Adam: We can look around Starlight, but they’ve disappointed me all my life

He turns and speaks the next part into the empty air.

Adam: Why should aliens suddenly be helpful? Sure, my wife worked her ass off to reach the top of the scientist career, and we’ve traveled through a wormhole to their HOME planet. But hey... why face up to the babies you abandoned if you can just hide

Suzanna: Adam…

Adam: Starlight let’s just see what we can forage, or find, or whatever us geeks do. We’ve come all this way, may as well make sure we get something out of it. I want you to get something positive from this

Suzanna: I want that for you to. Maybe if we-

But Adam has already started to storm off. Suzanna watches him, knowing it’s best not to interrupt him when he’s in a rage. He’ll only say stuff he regrets later. Turning around, no longer looking for aliens like herself, she takes time to look at the scenery. She does love how the trees here seem to glow, and the mushrooms seem to pulsate with magic. As a scientist she knows they’re not magic, but she can dream.

Suzanna checks out a nearby crater completing the space aliens collection! She should be happier about this, being a geek, but she still feels sad. After spending several hours checking out the plants, geodes and crystal sites Suzanna is feeling spooked by the eerie quiet. The stillness is unnerving. No birdsong, no crickets, nothing. She sets out to reconnect with Adam and finds him kicking his heels back by the wormhole generator.

Adam: Sorry I snapped earlier but.. it’s just… *sighs deeply*

Suzanna: So much less than we dreamed

Adam: Yeah. I just wanted someone to look me in the eye and tell me why they left us inside humans on a planet that doesn't like aliens but… there's no one. Will we never have answers?

Suzanna: My Heart… we don’t have to stop looking for a why

Adam: I know I'm not super smart or anything but it just makes no sense. You and me, we’re able to make kids. Why do UFO aliens need to violate humans, then never check in on us our whole lives long

Suzanna: I don’t know. But we’ve hung about here enough for one day huh? Let’s go home

Adam: *sighs* yeah, home. Where aliens are few and far between and humans make you feel ashamed for existing. That paradise

Suzanna: We'll invite the other earth born aliens around. Someone is bound to have an idea of what to do

Adam: They're idiots, none of them are half as smart as you. If you're stuck they're bound to be

Suzanna: Maybe but there's not many sims who know what it's like to grow up like we did. You shouldn't be too quick to cast them aside

Adam: At least if they come over I'll have someone to yell at

Suzanna: *chuckles* That's the spirit

Previous (Woods) ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #the sims #KnightstoneHousehold #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #SuzannaKnightstone #AdamKnightstone #SilasKnightstone #PolKnightstone #R0807

19 notes · View notes

underratedandoverit · 1 year ago

Text

some things never change

908 words chuck taylor/trent baretta (implied, can be read as gen)

death before dishonor changed me on some level. my first time with these boys like this so like. be kind to me. takes place post their title match (i also know oc was there but shh lemme have this)

its proofread and edited now, i dont think its terrible but be mindful that i wrote this in an hour of frenzy at 6am originally lmao

hurt/comfort. mild warnings for trent having stitches, theres mention of blood, chuck has issues liking himself and trent says shit once

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate

on ao3

----------------------

Chuck had remained silent the entire time they had been sitting in the trainers room after the match. There had been too heated of a moment at ringside when the match ended for them to notice it, but when they got backstage someone had kindly pointed out that Trent had gotten cut at the brow at some point, so they were escorted to see the doctors, whether they wanted it or not. Chuck insisted that he was okay, apart from some mental wounds from yet another loss, only being worried about Trent right there and then.

As was tradition it seemed, Trent insisted on being okay, but complained the entire time he was being taken care of. Being walked to the medical, having to sit there, while they were cleaning up his wound and washing his face off of the excess blood, while he was being stitched up. Chuck watched all of this happen, not intervening, letting Trent get it out of his system.

When they were finally free to leave to get back to the locker room, Chuck just quietly accepted the ice packs from the trainers that Trent had left behind, knowing that he would bitch about leaving them behind later. Trent was clearly in a hurry to get out of there, being frustrated with the whole situation, which Chuck didn’t blame him at all about.

To be honest, Chuck only blamed himself for all of this. Even if it was indirect, he was the one that brought the team down by not being there to help Trent by breaking the pin, effectively causing them to lose the match. Not to mention since he wasn’t able to properly protect his partner, he had been bleeding by the end of it all.

Trent kicked the locker room door open, Chuck being kind of irked over the fact that it was only the two of them in the Best Friends locker room that night. He honestly would have felt very much the same if they had gotten those titles in their possession and had their friends there to celebrate with them, just with the opposite situation.

But now Chuck had to deal with all of this by himself, when he wished someone more capable was around to handle the moment he didn’t feel like he was able to hold together for much longer.

Maybe the sigh he let out was a little bit louder than he intended, Chuck instinctively wincing as he saw the concern on Trent’s face following the sound as the other man turned to look towards him, stopping in the middle of his annoyed rant that Chuck hadn’t been listening to at all.

“What’s wrong?”

Chuck just shrugged, weighting the ice pack in his hands that he suddenly found more interesting than anything else in the room. “Just… Bummed about this. Losing, once again.”

Trent’s eyes narrowed slightly, knowing very well when his longtime tag partner was lying to him. Without saying anything he grabbed Chuck by the wrist, walking him to the couch and sitting him down, taking a seat next to him. Chuck didn’t resist, knowing full well that doing so was going to make him explain himself even further. At least this way he was able to try to mask the disappointment and self-deprecation he was currently feeling.

“This isn’t just about losing, is it?”

Chuck glanced at him, but didn’t say anything, avoiding looking at any clear features of Trent, eyes landing on his stitched up brow. He carefully lifted the ice pack in his hand and pressed it against Trent’s face, a small smile blossoming on his lips briefly as he sighed again.

“At least I’m good for one thing, huh?”

Trent remained silent for a moment, but it was obvious that the gears in his head were turning at the statement. “What are you talking about?”

“We lost the match. I couldn’t get back to the ring in time. Sorry about that.”

Chuck removed the ice pack from Trent’s face briefly, wincing at the line of stitches on his face before pressing the ice back against the wound. “And sorry about your face.”

“Dude, it’s not like it was you who made me bleed.”

He knew exactly what Trent meant, but it still wasn’t easy to hear and Chuck’s mind to accept. He looked away, feeling the guilt gnawing on him under his skin.

“Yeah… But I could have prevented that. And I didn’t.”

Trent looked at him, observed the clearly defeated demeanor of the other man for a while, before his hand reached for the ice pack and Chuck’s hand holding it, carefully pulling it off his face and lowering it down, taking the obstacle away from between the two of them so he could finally directly look at Chuck.

“It’s not your fault.”

Trent slowly peeled the ice pack from Chuck’s hand, putting it aside as he grabbed a hold of his hand, interlacing their fingers with one another with ease. Chuck slowly looked back at them, staring at their hands for a moment before he could feel Trent giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t care how many times we win, how many times we lose, how it happens or who’s fault it supposedly is. We’re best friends, dude. As long as we’re together, none of that shit matters.”

Chuck nodded, a small smile crossing his lips, followed by a soft chuckle.

“…Yeah. Yeah. Thanks.”

#drabble #character: trent baretta #character: chuck taylor #ship: chucktrent #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! Could U do a Jason half drunk asking stupid things, showing his insecurities and also declaring himself and his desire for the reader? A fluffy thing and almost NSFW but not totally cause she isn’t going to take advantage of a drunk Jason (the reader and Jason would be friends, well maybe them can be more after Jason confessing how he really feels)

"If Alfred finds out you got this trashed you're gonna be so fucked, Jay," you grunt, struggling to keep your feet when he loses his balance.

"What'r'y'gonnado?" he slurs, smirking, "rat me out?"

"No you idiot," you sigh, "I'd be in just as much trouble. I'm still fucking benched for-"

"Ooooh shit your ribs," he said springing away from you and stumbling into the umbrella stand in the hall. You managed to keep it from falling over with a crash- barely and exhaled slowly.

"Let's just get you to bed, dude," you sigh. It had been a long day. And as much as you hated to admit it, hauling his bulky self up the front steps had your ribs screaming. It hurt. A lot. And you'd probably set your recovery back by wo weeks- at least.

" 'Kay," he mumbled, putting a hand on the wall to hold himself up. "You're a really good person-"

"Compliments won't prevent me from black mailing you-"

"No listen-" he said putting his hands on your shoulders, shaking you almost carefully. "You fucking are. You're so pretty. And smart. And you make the best fucking brownies- but don't tell Alfred- oh shit he's gonna be so mad- fuck. And you're still hurt and-"

"Shh," you hiss, reaching up to put a hand over his mouth, "You're gonna get us both busted-"

"See I told you. You're smart," he garbled around your hand, " 'm so stupid that's why-"

"Jason Peter," you snap, smacking his chest with the back of your hand, hard enough to sting, "Shut up and get moving. If we get caught-"

"Too Late, Miss Y/N," Alfred drawled, trying very hard not to laugh at the Look on Jason's face. Realization and oddly enough, joy? You had to smack his hand down to keep him from waving like a toddler.

"Does it help if I tell you I really fucking love you?" He asked, looking down at you when you glare at him.

"What-"

"No, No, Absolutely not," Alfred said crisply, "We're not doing inebriated love confessions at 3am. Master Jason. Bed. Miss Y/N Tylenol. Drills at 6am."

And when Jason staggers away, visibly deflated and you make your way down a different hall to your room- or Miss Stephanie's, he isn't sure which, only then does he allow himself to chuckle.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #anon ask #ask answered

305 notes · View notes

writemekpop · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss Me Thru the Phone | Byun Baekhyun

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend makes a surprise trip home to see you. Things get hot and heavy... a little too quickly.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: Premature ejaculation, Sexual content

Gif: @yixingsosweet

The nights aren’t the same when Baekhyun isn’t warming the bed beside you.

“Are you sure you can’t come home for the break?” You bite your lip, fighting back tears.

Baekhyun sighs across the phone. “I don’t think so baby, I’m sorry.”

“Well…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I should go, it’s getting late.”

“You know I miss you… Call me in the morning. Okay?” Baekhyun pauses, waiting for your reply.

You take a deep breath. “Okay.”

You grab Baekhyun’s pillow and bury your face in it. You breathe in, smelling the faint vanilla of your boyfriend’s cologne.

After a lifetime of tossing and turning, you finally fall asleep – with Baekhyun’s long fingers and pouty lips filling your dreams.

---

You peel open one eye and glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 6AM.

You groan. It’s way too early to be up.

Suddenly, you realise that you feel unusually warm. Warm and cosy…

It takes your sleep-addled mind a few seconds to realise that… Baekhyun is in the bed with you!

Baekhyun is fast asleep, his arm tucked securely around your waist. You can’t even comprehend how happy you feel right now.

You press your fingers into his soft cheeks, down the straight ridge of his nose, and flutter them over his puffy eyelids.

“Baek? Baby, what are you doing back?”

Baekhyun stirs. With his eyes still closed, he mumbles, “I couldn’t bear to be without you, so I drove home overnight.”

“I love you so much.” Your words get stuck in your throat.

“Shh baby don’t cry, just kiss me.”

You shuffle closer and touch your lips to his soft plump ones.

Your hands, frantic with the need to touch him after being apart for so many weeks, slip under his soft white T shirt. The pads of your fingers hungrily graze the planes of his muscles.

Baekhyun, filled with the same desire, rolls you onto your back. He kisses you with his eyes closed and his mouth open, flexing his biceps to keep his weight off you.

Your kiss is messy, with tongues touching and teeth clashing, but you couldn’t care less. Baekhyun is actually here with you! You still can’t believe it.

“I missed this,” Baekhyun whispers hotly into your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer towards you.

You’d be happy to stay kissing like this, as the sun peeks in through the blinds... But you feel Baekhyun waking up in other places too, and suddenly the atmosphere shifts.

The electric tingle of lust courses through your body. Baekhyun rocks his hips against yours, groaning as his pelvis rubs against your core.

You’ve never seen Baekhyun as needy as this before. The time apart must have gotten to him, too.

What was once a warm flicker has raged into a breathless fire. Your frantic fingers dig into his waist.

Baekhyun hooks two fingers into your waistband.

“Can I…?” Baekhyun whispers against your lips.

“Yes, please, yes.” You breathe, barely letting him finish.

Along with the mountain of fleece blankets and plushies, your clothes find their way onto the floor, leaving you both completely naked.

“You’re still on the pill, right?”

“Uh huh.” You spread your legs wide, making room for your boyfriend to settle between them.

Baekhyun slides into you immediately, and you kiss him through his surprisingly loud groans.

He begins to move, and you lift up your hips to meet his.

“Fuck…” His words come out in a jumble. “God, you feel so… I’ve missed this… Oh no! Wait, I-I…”

Baekhyun gasps and freezes.

You flick open your eyes, wondering why he stopped so abruptly.

Just then, you feel warm liquid trickle down your inner thigh. Oh. Now you get it.

Baekhyun hides his burning cheeks by nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “S-sorry, we haven’t done this in ages, and you felt so good and… ugh…”

Baekhyun flops onto the bed beside you. He presses his fingers into his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

You stroke his shoulder. “It’s okay, babe. These things happen.”

Baekhyun’s lips are swollen from his relentless gnawing. “I- that’s never happened to me before.”

“It’s totally normal.” You shush him quietly, stroking his hair and massaging his shoulders.

Your body still tingles with pent up energy, but for now, you’re happy just to lie next to your boyfriend. You have time to catch up.

Baekhyun turns to face you. His cheeks are still flushed, but the mischievous glint in his eyes are back.

“Y/n… Let me make it up to you.” His fingers trace the curve of your shoulder.

You smile lazily. “And how are you going to do that?”

Baekhyun smirks that glorious smirk that sends your heart swooping. “I know exactly how.”

Before you can respond, Baekhyun disappears under the duvet.

The next moment, you feel his cheek on your thigh and his lips grazing against your core. And then oh- you realise what he means.

As the winter sun raises its sleepy head, Baekhyun does make it up to you.

Again. And again. And again…

473 notes · View notes

missymurphy1985 · 3 years ago

Text

The Medic (part five)

Warning - smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You quickly pulled your dress back on when the door knocked. Cillian quickly washed his hands while you made yourself presentable and answered the door to Kate, who immediately gave you a look.

"Interesting look y/n?" She smirked, glancing down at your dress. Inside out. Brilliant.

"Oh, I was having a nap. Up all night with someone who can't handle Tramadol!" You chuckled nervously.

"Mhmm.. thought you two would be hungry so I grabbed a few bits from Asda down the road." You smiled and let her in, Cillian however stayed behind the kitchen counter, and put the kettle on, giving you a look and glancing down at his hidden crotch. You laughed a little, making Kate turn to look at you.

"What's so funny?" You shook your head and quickly moved her to the sofa, sitting her down and taking the bag off her.

"Nothing.. thank you so much for these. Cill, you hungry?" You turned to ask him, winking knowing Kate couldn't see you.

"Ravenous," he grinned.

"Can you come grab these please? You need to keep moving otherwise you'll go stiff..." His eyes widened at your comment and he shook his head.

"No, no, I'm just making Kate a drink..." You couldn't help but chuckle as you brought the bag over to him, emptying its contents. Standing behind the counter, Kate had her eyes on the impressive view out of the window.

"Go lie down, I'll sort the drinks out. And do not take care of that until I'm with you to, er, monitor your breathing..." you whispered, glancing down at the very obvious tent in his jeans. He nodded, admitting that he was feeling exhausted, and quietly headed into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Kate turned round as she heard the door close and asked if he was okay.

"He needs a rest, he had a rough night."

"So you gonna tell me the real reason your dress is inside out y/n?"

"I told you, I had a nap and got up quickly when I heard the door knock, that's all."

You changed the subject quickly before she interrogated you even further. You weren't sure what this was yourself, you didn't want to talk about it. You chatted about the accident and how Paul was doing for half an hour before you could see she was getting all question-y again.

"Well I guess I'd better go check on him."

"I'll leave you to it," she chuckled, giving you a hug and heading out with a wink.

You bit your lip and quietly opened the bedroom door. Looking at him, fast asleep on the bed, you didn't have the heart to wake him. Even his erection had passed out.. you pulled a blanket out of the wardrobe and covered him with it. His hand suddenly grabbed yours and he pulled you to lie down with him. Against your better judgement, you allowed it.

"I'm not going to be able to fulfil that end of the bargain, but at least let me hold you while I fall asleep?"

"Patient's orders again?"

"Mhmm... Come here..." You lay with your back against his chest as he lifted the blanket over you both. His arm wrapped around your waist, his face resting against your shoulder, kissing it lightly, before you felt him relax completely and drift back off again. Your own eyes grew heavy, the feel of his arm round you felt far too comfortable. Sleep came easily.

************************************************************

You woke a few hours later, you were now laying snuggled into his side with his right arm draped around you. He was still snoring lightly. You realised your body weight was resting right on his stitches. You eased off him gently so as not to hurt him but no joy. He woke with a hiss of pain.

"Shh... I'm sorry, I was lying on your ribs... Don't move I'll grab your painkillers..."

"No, no I'm okay - it's easing off now. It was just the shock that's all. I'm okay honestly. No more painkillers."

"Don't be a martyr Cillian, if it hurts, take them." You said sternly. Typical bloke...

"If it hurts, I will." You climbed out of bed, much to his disappointment, and walked into the living room. Glancing at the clock you were surprised to see it was 6am. You'd both slept for over 12 hours solid. You saw four missed calls from Anto, that would be interesting to explain...

You grabbed Cillian's antibiotics, water and a yogurt out of the fridge and brought them back into him.

"Take these now - you've missed about three doses! It's morning!" You laughed, telling him the time.

"I haven't slept that well in years, Jesus..."

"Your body needed the rest. Anto's been trying to call - how do I explain this, exactly?"

"We were watching a movie and fell asleep. No need to tell him I gave you a mind-blowing orgasm shortly beforehand."

"I wanted to talk to you about that actually," you said as you typed the message and sent it.

"About your orgasm?"

"No, well kinda.. Cillian I like you, I really do, and you have no idea how much I want you... But -"

"I know. It's inappropriate while you're my doctor, right?"

"Right..."

"No one needs to know though?"

"Cillian, my dress was inside out and my face was red as a beetroot. Kate suspects, at least. I could be struck off the medical register for this."

"So what do we do?"

"What do you want from me, exactly?"

"Who knows? But I really like you too. And I'd like to see more of you. Literally... More of you." He smiled, looking up and down your body.

"You're gonna leave me here like this?!" He asked, looking down at your hand that you'd just pulled away. You looked out of the window and stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"I went to uni for seven years. Being a doctor is all I know, it's all I'm good at... As much as I want you, I don't think I can do this..."

"You weren't saying that this morning?"

"I wasn't thinking straight - we can't do this. Not while I'm here as your doctor.."

"Then don't be my doctor! Get Kate to take over?"

"I'm an onset medic, I cover all of you."

"Then it's our little secret until Friday night isn't it? Come on, no one suspects anything, no one knows a thing." You turned to look at him, surprised to see him now completely naked on the bed, cock in his hand slowly stroking up and down.

"Now now, I thought you were going to let me monitor you?" He groaned gently as he stroked, his breathing shallow.

"I'd say my breathing is perfectly fine, wouldn't you?"

"Yes I would... What happens to it if I do this?" You took the straps of your dress off and let it fall to the floor. Unclasping your bra, tossing it aside, and letting your panties drop. His breathing paused, as did his hand as he admired the view in front of him.

"Oh dear Mr Murphy.. I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you the once over. I'm not convinced you're ready for me..."

"Get over here and I'll show you how fucking ready I am..."

#cillian murphy #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x smut

57 notes · View notes

kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 4 years ago

Text

A full, entire list of headcanons for a day with:

1. ☼ waking up with him ☼6am-8am

LISTEN UP Y’ALL

IF YOU DON’T SIMP FOR EIJIRO, JUST THINK:

YOU WAKE UP EVERY MORNING TO SEE HIS BEAUTIFUL, MESSY, CHAOTIC BED-HEAD WITH HIS HAIR DOWN AND HIS ADORABLE TIRED LIL’ SMILE

now if THAT doesn’t make you simp, you CONFUSE ME

anyways, so-

if there’s one thing that kirishima chooses to do, it’s to wake up early. i am so sorry to those who enjoy sleeping in, but hey, it’s the price we gotta pay to simp 😔✋

but omfg y’all, is the sweetest baby ever when you wake up with him! kirishima would most likely cuddle you first thing in the morning (…as in like 5 am-) and pull you in closer, planting a kiss on your forehead

“’morning, my beautiful pebble, d’ya sleep well?”

butcanwepleasetalkabouthowcutehisvoicewouldberightwhenhewakesup

you’ll also probably wake up to an insane amount of talking and chatting with him, and by six o’clock, he makes sure that you’re ready to be on your way

the sun is still rising where you guys are, so it’s actually pretty dark where you guys are

he ruffles your hair as he takes you on walks outside, hand in hand, no matter how tired you are

expect him to piggy back you, saying that it’s manly bc IT ISSSSS

2. ✎ doing online school with eijiro ✎ 8am-12pm, 2pm-4pm

“i think i’ve lost complete and utter trust in everything,” you groan. “i can’t even trust my video and mute button, and i need to trust those!”

kirishima grins at you as he plants a kiss on your forehead. “how ‘bout i buy you something tasty during break, huh?”

“kirishima, we’re literally broke,” you deadpan, half-joking but half speaking realistically.

“so what?” you’ve been working so hard lately, i figured that you at least deserve something as a reward.” he squeezes your shoulders from behind your seat (don’t worry, your video’s off for now :))

you raise an eyebrow. “…something?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“yeah! like maybe we could go for a walk, or-” he stares at your expression before he realizes what you implied. “baby, this is a sfw blog, we’re not allowed to-”

kirishima also most definitely pulls up a chair next to you in class, even though he doesn’t even know what you’re doing. he might not be in that class, but he’ll be right next to you the whole time in case you need help

when you do need help, he peers over your shoulder and helps you solve whatever problem you have right away

the sweetheart also gives constant reassuring reminders to drink water, i LOVE HIM

but when he leaves, he also says, “study and work hard, y/n! i’ll be right here for you during break!”

he promises you a kith and a hug if you keep on striving during online classes 🥺

kirishima likes to come in during class when your video is very much on, and he peeks his head in, waves, and then smiles before heading back out of the frame

“y/n, how do you fight villains, kick butt, literally stand up for an entire school, but you still rehearse how to say here?”

“shhhhh, i’m trying-”

another scenario, “y/n, can you please answer question four?”

“sure. the book that i chose for my report was the fault in our stars by john green, which implies the message that-”

“BABY, YOU GOTTA SEE HOW LOUDLY I CAN CLAP MY HANDS IF I USE MY QUIRK-”

you mute yourself, “DON’T YOU DARE-”

he makes online school almost exciting, and he just makes everything so much more enjoyable

kirishima also takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he kisses your knuckles. “i’ll start making lunch. good luck baby!”

3. ♨ meals and afternoon walks with eijiro ♨ 12pm-1pm

HATE YOU BREAK IT TO Y’ALL BUT EIJIRO KIRISHIMA CANNOT COOK FOR THE HECK OF IT

y’all have seen him in the training camp thing,, right??

kirishima might not be the best at cooking, but you can count on him to take you somewhere!

man knows the best places where you live, and he just about literally gets whatever you want

you guys probably leave for a walk during break at noon, and kirishima makes sure that you feel safe and comfortable around him no matter what

afternoon walks are probably the most interesting part of your day, and the way lets you put your hand in the pocket of his hoodie just- 🥺🥺

i think something that isn’t stressed enough is people who seem less vulnerable being attacked by predators, so if anyone even dares to approach you, kirishima will LITERALLY POP OFF

not like the quirk pop off-

“HEY! that wasn’t very manly of you!”

as you walk along the way, kirishima makes sure to never let go of you and make sure you feel completely safe with him

you two probably stop by a nearby restaurant and get some sort of food to-go before heading back and eating during class, but shh your teacher doesn’t have to know-

he’s such a sweetheart like honestly

kirishima makes every meal taste like 50 times better, and he makes sure that you eat and drink lots of water!

but if you’re honestly having trouble with your appetite, kirishima makes sure not to push you too hard

he holds your hand if you ever get scared, he tells a joke ease your mind a lil’ 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

eijiro makes sure that no matter what happens, he holds your hand and tells you to take it easy, but also encourages you whenever you need it

he’s so sweet, please keep him

4. ◪ crying + evening naps ◪ 5pm-7pm

crying

kirishima knows that crying is just something that’s natural, whether it’s that you’re frustrated or just feel so tired, he understands

and it’s not even like you’re having a full blown panic attack or anything. you just gotta have your daily cries, ya know?

please tell me i’m not the only one who has like scheduled daily cries-

“it’s okay, crying’s healthy for you, anyway! it’s definitely better than keeping it bottled inside you. c’mere.”

he kisses your scalp as he rocks you back and forth, occasionally wiping away a tear

kirishima reminds you that reacting some way to a bad situation is natural

“if someone was in your shoes, they’d most definitely feel that way, too! don’t feel like you’re the only one, baby, because you’re not. i’m here whenever you need me.”

after, he takes your hand and drags you to get a glass of water. “if you ever nee to cry again, you gotta stay hydrated,” he winks

he’s also so caring and soft when he sees you upset, he gives you the best cuddles as he plays with your hair. kirishima occasionally, when you’re crying, whispers in a compliment.

“your eyes are so magical.”

“you have such a beautiful smile.”

“you’re so… beautiful.”

naps

for naps, kirishima omg please jUST BE REAL FOR ONE SECOND

PLEASE HOW DID MY LIFE COME TO BEING IN LOVE WITH A COLLECTION OF PIXELS-

that beautiful, loving, emotional support shark is who i’m in love with and it’s insane

you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his scent as he places his hands around your stomach

(also kirishima would most definitely adore plus-sized people and stretch marks/acne. he loves every insecurity that people growing up may have, and that just gives me SO MUCH HOPE-)

everything is just so insanely peaceful as he has soft music playing in the background, kissing your nose and cuddling in closer with you

the blanket is directly over you, and after a long day at work, you two decide to take a break together

kirishima also most definitely makes sure to wake up earlier for the nap than you so that he could get you a cup of water

he plays with your hair and gently shakes you when you need to get back to work 🥺🥺

5. ☾ going to bed + cuddling headcanons ☽ 10pm-12am

OKAY SO I KNOW I ALREADY DID SOMETHING LIKE THIS HERE

but i literally canNOT STRESS HOW MUCH LOVE I HAVE FOR THIS INDIVIDUAL

he usually doesn’t mind if you stay up late, but as long as you take care of yourself while you’re at it, that’s completely okay!

kirishima usually likes to make sure that you have a consistent sleep schedule though, even if you look at him in the face and go,

“excuse me? sleep schedule? who’s that?”

eijiro just laughs in such a pure way before he helps you tie your hair or keep it up when you’re brushing/rinsing

while you brush your teeth though, he kinda just wraps his arms around your waist in such a gentle way 🥺🥺

he’s such a gentleman and just wants you to be happy

after, he gets you a cup of water and sits next to you on the mattress

he sometimes likes to play old rom-coms or films while cuddling next to you, or maybe some fancy lil’ disney movies

sometimes he’ll pick horror movies and say “i’m manly enough, i can take it!” and then you’re completely unfazed while kirishima SCREAMS

“b-being vulnerable is manly!”

“oh golly i love you so much.”

something i absolutely adore about kirishima is that he has so much respect for women, enby’s, whatever it is, he just wants them to feel safe and comfortable

he makes sure that it’s okay for him to wrap his arms around you, and makes sure to respect your boundaries

there’s no better place to be than in his arms when he’s wearing a hoodie and your face is rested in the crook of his neck

his chest rises and falls as he turns off the lights, and he might play some light music in the background

kirishima likes to play with your hair and makes raspberry blows into your neck aND I PERSONALLY THINK THAT’S HILARIOUSLY ADORABLE

he’ll make sure that no matter what, you feel safe and comfortable around him

you two sometimes end up having really deep conversations at like 2 am with him

for no apparent reason, you two just start talking away like it’s nothing

he holds your hand and runs his hands through your hair, before whispering comfort into your ear

“you’re so, so beautiful,”

“you have the most beautiful smile,”

“has anyone told you how nice your eyes were?”

“i love you.”

134 notes · View notes

copias-thrall · 5 years ago

Text

Why Not?

Mary and Suey need to use their words

(Start at the beginning)

*angst; face fucking*

Sometimes you wonder if Mary’s attraction to you stems from the fact that you had no idea who he was when the two of you met at Mickey’s. Sure, there’s some Venn Diagram-like overlap between your crowd and his—but your exploits and his had never touched. You have a few mutual friends-of-friends that everyone always seems to know—but no substantial connections.

Mary’s never made his past sexploits a secret—even if he’s demurred on the gritty details—so you know his other forays into relationships have mostly been from people already in his orbit from the neighborhood or from his “fan” pool.

Basically: all people who already knew his music.

It doesn’t keep you up at night, but occasionally—when there’s a prolonged, awkward silence, or the two of you get into a heated debate that proceeds slammed doors—you can’t help but wonder. It doesn’t help that Mary seems reticent to bring you to shows—big or small.

And, ok—maybe at first you didn’t really care: everyone and their sister knows a guy who’s “in a band” that never actualizes, and you two are oil and water on your best days, so why invest energy into a band you’re going to be compelled to dislike after the breakup? Once you guys had passed the 3mo mark, however, you knew you had to get serious about it if you wanted to be serious about Mary.

You would have thought it would’ve made Mary happy—you taking a marked interest in his first love—but he’d honestly seemed ambivalent about it. You talking about his songs and asking him questions only seemed to irritate him to no end … so you’d dropped it.

When he’d told you about another Saturday gig—that wasn’t closing Mickey’s—you’d once again offered to come … and he’d been a dick about it, prompting one of your worst fights to date.

“Why do you even wanna be there?” he’d huffed.

“I’m your fucking girlfriend,” you’d retorted.

“So you just want to piss on me and mark your territory, is that it?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I thought I’d support your fucking passion is all.”

“You never cared before.”

“Oh—I’m sorry! Was I supposed to know everything that mattered to you two fucking seconds in?”

“I just think it’s fucking suspect that all of sudden you wanna be around.”

“So the other girlfriends are fine. It’s just me who’s a fame whore?”

“They’re all into the scene.”

“And what the fuck does that mean? I’m not a bandophile so I couldn’t possibly be interested?”

“It means I’m fucking done with that shit. The switching? The bed hopping? If that’s what you want, fucking tell me right now.”

“Where are you even getting this shit from?”

He’d looked you dead in the eyes.

“You have a reputation, Suey.

At first, you hadn’t even understood enough to be insulted.

“For fucking what? I barely follow the local music scene.”

“You think I didn’t ask around about you? The ‘Ice Queen’? Likes to fuck, but will eat you up and spit you out?”

You’d felt hot and cold all at once—your face flushing then draining of color.

“Are you fucking … are you fucking slut shaming me?!” you’d hissed as you’d jabbed a finger at him.

He hadn’t backed down. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder if a girl who’ll fuck anything that moves wouldn’t be looking to take her act elsewhere. The guys might dislike you, but you know they’d never pass up free pussy.”

You’d been trembling with anger at that point and scrubbing tears from your eyes.

“I’ve never … I’ve never hidden the fact that I like to fuck. I can’t believe you with your … your orgies and partner swapping have any fucking thing to say to me about my one-night stands.”

“How do I know you’re not using me for easy access, huh? I can barely even tell if you like me instead of my dick sometimes, and now all of sudden you’re interested in my band?”

You’d screamed and knocked a bowl off your counter, not even caring when the ceramic had shattered into shards.

“I’M SHOWING YOU I LIKE YOU BY BEING INTERESTED IN YOUR FUCKING BAND, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.”

Then you’d grabbed a mug and thrown it in the ground for good measure. It hadn’t shattered, but the handle had broken off. Dissatisfied, you’d turned to your dish rack, but before you could start breaking dishes, Mary had had his arms wound around you.

“Hey, hey … it’s ok. Shh, c’mere.”

You’d screamed again and struggled against him.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Suey, calm down.”

Mary had managed to pick you up slightly, transferring you from the mess in the kitchen area to the living space, where he’d pulled you both down to the floor against the couch. You’d struggled some more, but only in an obligatory sense.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. Fuck,” Mary had breathed.

You’d only wailed in response, tears now flowing freely.

“I didn’t mean … fuck. I don’t think …” he’d babbled.

“You didn’t think,” you’d blubbered. “All those dudes, and you’re the one with a fucking drawer. How fucking dare you.”

Mary’s hold had tightened, but it wasn't to restrain you.

“Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I just … it wouldn’t be the first time I thought some girl liked me, when all they wanted was to fuck the band. It’s a fucking sore spot, ok?”

“I’m supposed to be ok with you thinking I’ve been playing you?”

“I just fucking panicked, ok? I—I really fucking like you.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Fuck off.”

You’d both chuckled.

“I just really fucking like you, and sometimes I just get too far into my own fucking head.”

You’d leaned back into his chest.

“You’re a fucking asshole and what you said was trashy. You said it to hurt me, and that’s not ok, Mary.”

He’d sighed and rested his forehead onto your shoulder.

“I just needed to hear you say it wasn’t true.”

“That’s still fucking insulting, but—” you’d tilted your head toward his, “Mary, I’m not dating you to fuck your bandmates. Now, fucking apologize.”

“I’m sorry I … that I was … my—”

“—that you were fucking cruel.”

“I’m sorry I was fucking cruel.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you had sat like that for a while until Mary had broken the silence.

“You scare me when you react like that.”

“I know,” you’d sighed. “I just … got overwhelmed. I’m … I am working on it, you know?”

“How?”

You’d curled a little into yourself.

“I do go to therapy, you know. It’s been—it is—a process.”

“K.”

“K?”

“Um, ‘ok, I acknowledge your effort and support it and won’t push as long as you’re getting help’?”

“Thanks.” You’d waited for a beat then had said, “Now you have to give me one. One personal thing.”

You’d waited patiently as Mary had considered.

“I was on my own at 19, so the guys are like my brothers—I love them, but they’re fucking annoying, and I hate them sometimes too. I’d give any one of them a kidney, but not my girl.”

You’d sighed. “I’m not going to fuck your brothers, Mare.”

“Yeah, I know. But thanks for saying.”

After that he’d helped you clean up the broken bowl. A week later you’d found your mug back in the cabinet—the handle was out of line with the break, but somehow still firmly secured back into place. You’d also stopped asking about attending his shows.

Thanksgiving came—he’d spent the day with his extended band family; you’d traveled out of state to spend it with your best friend—as you’d been doing since college. She knows a little about you and Mary, and you were happy to stay up drinking contraband wine with her on the trundle bed in her room as you’d scrolled through the handful of personal g-rated pictures you had.

It’s Saturday (your bus back home is at 6am the next day), and your bff and you are downtown just hanging out. You fucking love the energy of South Street, especially Crash Bang Boom, formally Zipperhead. One of the stops on your itinerary is a record store, and on a lark you go to see if Mary’s record is here. You know from one of Mary’s rants that they’ve been struggling to get wider distribution without a formal label, but that there’s a pretty good trade network amongst some of the indie places, and Philly isn’t so far away. You have to do more than a cursory search but!

It’s here!

You pull it out, intent on calling your friend over, when two guys who’d been browsing near you accost you.

“I hear they’re hot right now!” Boy 1 says.

“They used to be so hard to find,” says Boy 2.

You beam. “I know, right? They’re great.”

“You a big fan?” asks Boy 2.

What you mean to say is, I think their sound is very unique, but what you say when you open your mouth is, “I’m dating the lead guitarist.”

The two guys look at each other and snigger slightly.

“Yeah, ok,” says Boy 2.

You scrunch your face at them.

“I am.”

“Ok, maybe online you can peddle that crap, but c’mon,” says Boy 1.

You know not to feed the trolls … but these guys are kind of pissing you off. You tuck the DIY CD under your arm as you fish out your phone; it takes you a few seconds of poking, but you bring up the g-rated pics of you and Mary—most of which are slightly-blurry selfies. You think they’re endearing. Boy 1 and Boy 2 aren’t impressed.

“Are you serious?” sneers Boy 1. “These are clearly post-show selfies.”

“Fucking sad,” says Boy 2, shaking his head.

You’re at a loss because the majority of these are from your couch, so you toss your hair at them.

“Whatever. I don’t need a bunch of fake music boys to validate me. Krissy! Let’s bounce.”

You do end up buying the CD for her—which she promises to listen to in full and then report back.

When you get back to your place Sunday night—cranky and bleary-eyed—you’re surprised to find Mary asleep on your couch, cocooned in your afghan, even though it’s barely early evening. You divest yourself of your outside clothes and backpack before crawling over him.

“Mmph,” he grumbles.

“Hey,” you say, draped over him. “Why’re you on the couch?”

He manages to turn his head toward you slightly.

“You weren’t here.”

“Mare. You can sleep in my bed.”

He wiggles around so you’re both face to face.

“Yeah, I know. Wanted to know when you got back.”

“I still don’t see—”

He kisses you and manages to get his arms free to wrap around you.

“You’d’ve let me sleep if I was in your bed,” he says as he breaks the kiss.

“Yeah, maybe. Only because you’d need it.”

There’s some making out that begins to border on foreplay before your stomach rumbles unhappily. Mary laughs.

“You’re fucking great.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you grumble. “I think I last ate over 12hrs ago.”

Mary shifts to a sitting position. “I’m about to become your best friend.” He wiggles free and makes his way into your kitchen. You wrap the afghan around you as you shuffle after him. He beams at you before opening your fridge and doing his best impression of Vanna White. You peer in to see that there are multiple Tupperware containers jigsawed into your fridge.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Is this …?”

Mary’s grin is almost a rictus.

“You don’t think I look out for my baby doll? Friendsgiving leftovers, just for you!”

You crowd into his space.

“I don’t know what I should eat first: this bounty or your dick!”

Mary wraps his arms around you, but says, “Lady’s choice.”

Despite how hungry you are, you drop to your knees—afghan pooling around you—and mouth at his zipper. He caresses your head and shoulders, but when he doesn’t insist, you take matters into your own hands; you pet at his semi before unzipping his jeans and taking out his cock and balls.

“You don’t—” he gasps even as his hands are cupped around the back of your head.

“Shut the fuck up,” you say right before you take the tip of him into your mouth to suckle.

Mary likes it fast and sloppy, but tonight you suck him at your own pace—one hand rolling his balls and giving sporadic presses to his perineum. He’s trembling and whimpering, his hands clenching and unclenching in your hair. After one particularly hard suck he cries out, “Oh fuck, please.”

You shuffle around so that your back is against a bottom cabinet, and you make a soft grunt so that he looks down at you. His lips are wet and his eyes are glazed as you widen your mouth and moan encouragingly at him. His hands grip into your hair as he begins to fuck your face.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” he breathes. “So sweet. Your fucking mouth.”

Usually you do your best to deep throat Mary, but today he seems to sense not to choke you. He’s still fucking your mouth, though—thrusting as deep as he dares, undeterred by the saliva dripping down your chin.

“I fucking missed you—missed this.”

You make sure to lock your gaze with his.

“Fuck.”

You bring your hand back up to his balls.

“OhpleaseOhshitOhfuckOhplease,” he chants, eyes now closed.

You slap your cunt a few times before you slip a hand into your tights to work at your clit in time to Mary fucking your mouth.

“Oh fuck, yeah—that’s right. My cock makes you so hot.”

You let the hand fondling him fall away so you can brace yourself against the counter, and Mary starts fucking your mouth faster. He’s still staring down at you, but now he’s only chanting Fuck over and over again as he pummels your mouth. You think he’ll probably cum first, but it’s actually you—your own adept fingers pushing you over the edge—and it’s only after you moan in time that he shoves you down on his cock as it kicks and shoots its load down your throat.

He lets go of your hair well before you’d even consider tapping out, so you make sure you suck up and down the length of him before he grunts and pulls away from oversensitivity. He looks down at you with hooded eyes as you continue to gently massage your own climax out.

“You’re too fucking good to me,” he says as he recombobulates himself.

You’re just easing the waves of your orgasm at this point.

“So fucking make me a plate,” you purr, knees splayed as you continue to finger yourself.

Mary grunts at you as if he’d like nothing better than to squash you into the floor and fuck the shit out of you—but by the time you’re done massaging the throbs out of your clit and and standing up, he’s got the food containers out and is constructing your plate.

Mary feeds you from the full plate in his lap—quite a departure from the norm (you love feeding him at your feet)—and the two of your talk about your holiday. He tells you about their mashed potato food fight. You tell him all about Krissy’s drama—which mostly entails her parents thinking that her living at home means she’ll be a nun—but you offhandedly mention Boy 1 & Boy 2 in context of your day out.

Mary tenses.

“What?” you ask as you catch his eye. You’re not going to bring up seeing his band if you can help it.

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

Mary sighs.

“You just. I hate that they didn’t believe you. You are my girl.”

You wriggle up and shrug.

“They’re not wrong. A few close up selfies don’t prove anything.”

“It still fucking sucks, and I hate it. Can we go to bed when you’re done?”

You snort. “You just want to snuggle.”

“So what if I fucking do? I brought you candied sweet potatoes at great cost to my life and limb. You owe me.”

You huff in laughter. “All right, dude. Fine. Let me brush my teeth and then we can … snuggle.”

“Damn straight.”

It’s maybe two weeks later when Mary’s on your couch watching the WWE, your feet in his lap as you play a game on your phone (no way was him being here is going to make you miss your chance at getting a high placing on this week’s special challenge). During the commercial break he plucks at your alumni sleep pants.

“Hey. Have you noticed you haven't worn anything nice in a while?” he says to your leg.

You look up at him over your phone, incredulous.

“Um, ok. First of all: rude. Second: Dude. Half your shirts are from high school and half of those are covered in blood. What the fuck.”

His hand sneaks under your pant leg to stroke at your calf. When you shy away—shaving a long-forgotten routine now that the weather has chilled—he firmly pulls you back to continue his exploration.

“Yeah. I don’t own anything nice—you have all these cute as fuck clothes just chilling on your curtain rod collecting dust.”

You heave a sigh.

“Well. You work most nights, Mary. You know I try to be here if you’re going to be around, and what?—I’m gonna dress up in my own home?”

He squeezes your calf muscle.

“Christ, you’re defensive. Let me fucking finish my lead in, woman. I just mean we should get out.”

You creep the foot of your free leg under his t-shirt to press into his boney ribs.

“Ok, but when? Your schedule’s not very conducive to that, you know.”

He looks at you, searching your face, before insinuating himself between your legs and rubbing his hands up your thighs.

“We’re playing at Regency in a few weeks,” he says as he leans down to kiss your belly. He looks up at you. “You could put on one those ‘fuck me’ numbers you got.”

Kiss.��

“Come see me play.”

Kiss.

“I could fuck you in the bathroom.”

Kiss.

He takes the hem of your pants between his teeth and begins to tug it down.

“Mary! My ranking!”

“Fuck your ranking,” he says as he yoinks your phone out of your hand and shoves it down the front of his pants. You gasp as he yanks your bottoms the rest of the way free, and then proceeds to run his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip his hair tight as he worms his tongue around and over your clit, sparking your arousal. You let your head fall back, moaning, as he tongues you.

He breaks away suddenly. “So will you think about it?”

You look down at him through hazy vision. “Wha—what?”

“The show. Will you think about coming to it?”

The only thing you’re thinking about right now is his tongue back on you.

“Fuck. C’mon, Mary.”

“The. Gig,” he continues, before giving you one, long lap. “Wanna show you off,” he says, growling into your labia.

Christ he should make up his mind. As if it was your reticence from attending.

“Yeah!” you gasp, encouraging him, as you grind yourself into his waiting mouth. “Wanna be shown off!”

He yanks you down prone, hoisting your legs over his shoulders so he has better access to suck your clit between his plump lips. The sensation is heavenly, and you make pleased noises.

“Gonna show off my hot girlfriend,” he pants as he comes up for air. “Make everyone know you’re mine, rub it in their faces.”

You grab the back of his head and rub his face into your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and get on with it for chrissake’s!”

He eats you out in earnest then—his tongue and lips adeptly coaxing you toward climax—the sound of the snarling wrestlers and cheering crowd the soundtrack to your orgasm; he licks you steadily as you squirm and thrash through it. Once you're thoroughly spent, he divests you of your top and crawls up your torso while unbuckling his jeans—your phone plopping onto your stomach and sliding down into the cushions.

“Hold your tits together,” he rumbles before thrusting between them a handful of times, head thrown back. Then he leans over you—guiding his cock to your mouth with his hips, before he’s fucking your face into the couch—unashamedly moaning when he hears you gag. He pulls out in time to cum all over your face and neck, hand flying between his legs—too intent with his art to even grunt out his pleasure.

Looking down at you, he bites his lip and says, “Fuck you’re beautiful. Can I take a picture?”

(This was something you’d gotten used to—Mary always wanting to take pictures of the oddest things with his ancient, digital HP camera.)

When you hesitate, he says, “No, you’re right. It’s …” He begins to climb off you, but you put a hand on his thigh.

“You … you can,” you stutter “but … I’ll keep it for you. Just … transfer it to me and delete it immediately.”

He rolls his eyes. “Big help you having it when I’m lonely and want to jerk off,” he says—but he's already off the couch, tucking himself back in, and rummaging through his worn backpack.

The two of you had done a little photoshoot then, trying to get the best angles, the best shine, your sexiest pout—and a few with his fingers in your mouth. When he’s satisfied, he hands you your shirt so you can wipe off—which you promptly rejected in favor of cleaning off in the bathroom sink (“Gross.” “What? I don’t understand.” “I wear this shirt!” “My jizz is literally on you right now!”).

When you come back out, Mary already has his memory card in the USB convertor and is attached to your laptop.

“Don’t I get to help choose?” you ask as you sit down next to him.

“My pictures.”

“My face!” you retort.

“My pictures for my use.”

You lean in to see which he’s chosen.

“Oh, not that one! I look like Jaba the Hutt with that chin!”

Mary squints at it, shrugs, then turns to grin at you.

“I won’t be looking at your chin.”

“Fine,” you grumble flopping back. “But I want my complaint filed on the record.”

“Ok,” he says and kisses the tip of your nose.

You push him away and wipe at your face. “Gross, Mary. Don’t be all mushy and shit.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, Suey,” he says into the computer.

When he finishes—4 photos now living in a folder on your desktop entitled “MarysSecretJackoffMaterial”—he lets you drive. You promptly drag all the smutty images of you into your trash and delete them immediately.

He has to leave for work not long after that, and you’ve gotten sucked into the WWE storyline. It isn’t until you’re ready to go to bed that you realize your phone is still in the depths of the couch. Once retrieved, you text him.

Me [12:37am]: Goddamnit, Mary! My RANKING.

Mary [2:28am]: XD

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

#mary goore #ofc #feral cats fic #gutter punk #gritty girls #my writing

27 notes · View notes

roombagreyjoy · 5 years ago

Note

“Shh. Come here. It’s just a nightmare.” prompt for jonmartin >:3

OKAY THERE IS A PERFECTLY GOOD EXPLANATION FOR THIS: I had a perfectly good draft, already edited, ready to be posted. But it was too angsty/filled with anger/not enough comfort for all the hurt and I had a TERRIBLE week and I woke up from a nightmare (oh, the irony) at 6AM and wrote this one instead on a burst of fear-induced mania in like four or five hours. I've barely edited it, so bear with me.

PS: I’m so sorry.

Seriously I did my best I’m so sorry.

-----

Prompt #2: “Shh. Come here. It’s just a nightmare.”

Read it on my AO3 Page as well

Alternative Title: Nightmares Aren’t Fun

[They really aren’t]

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Pairings: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims

Content Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Depression (not explicit), feelings of solitude/loneliness, low self-esteem (not explicit), there’s literally an Apocalypse going on what else do you need to know

Addendum: I am so sorry, I had a perfectly good draft and went for this one I just wrote in four hours nonstop instead, the other one was too angsty/angry/sad and I had a terrible week so I chose to remake the entire thing I am so sorry, the first part of this is very statement-y and it was completely on accident but then again as your resident nightmare expert what can you expect, please don’t kill me I tried my best and I only have one (1) brain cell.

Length: 2515 words (do not trust AO3 I know it’s 2515 don’t fucking @ me)

-----

It’s a weird feeling, waking up from a nightmare. You don’t realise when you’ve woken, you just… are waken, sometimes bolting upright in bed due to the shock, others jolting awake with tears streaming down your cheeks; heaving, or breathing rapidly, or just straight-up sobbing, with snot coming out of your nose in the least dignified way possible. The heavy weight of the world on your shoulders, the fear clinging to your soul, rooted deep beneath your skin, in your brain, in your heart, in your lungs and your stomach and your knees and your shoulders and your chest and your teeth and your eyes and your tongue…

You can feel it clutching at the last cracks of sleep left within you. Sometimes it takes a while for it to be left behind. Can be minutes. Can be hours. Sometimes you carry that fear with you for a day, two days, a week… oftentimes not even remembering what exactly it is you’re supposed to be afraid of.

Waking up from a nightmare with someone by your side is an even weirder feeling.

At least, it is, for people who are not used to having anyone by their side at all.

When you have been lonely for so long, companionship can become a prison as well as a salvation. The balance is hard to find, processing your emotions is more complicated than it used to be when you were alone. You have someone else there; someone who’s affected by your actions and whose actions you’re affected by. Someone who depends on you and on whom you depend. It’s in equal parts comforting and terrifying.

Especially when you’ve just woken up from a horrible, terrible, godawful nightmare.

That had just happened to poor Martin Blackwood, who, in fact, did not quite remember what the nightmare was all about at all! All he remembered is that it was horrible.

But, then again, this is the Apocalypse, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be bad. Awful, even. And that, it was. He shook a little at the touch of cold hands tentatively brushing past his arm and resting on his bare shoulder. He could already feel the tingle in the back of his head, like his brain was tickling, but not necessarily in a good way. The more awoken he was, the more his senses started brushing off the tiredness and sleepiness, he became more and more aware of it. The feeling of being watched, of being observed; the underlying fear of being judged. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to keep that fear at bay. ‘You’re not judged. You’re safe. You’re okay. Being looked at does not mean being submitted to judgement.’ A constant reminder, time and again. The incessant push to make his brain rationalise the situation. Trying not to break. Not like this. Not in front of Jon. He already had enough on his plate as is, to have to deal with him even after the nightmares.

It’s hard to convince yourself of some things when your entire life you’ve felt otherwise.

He did not open his eyes, but he leaned into the touch when he felt Jon cupping his cheek softly. The feeling of his hand on Martin’s skin was comforting; his skin was rough, coarse, the texture of his palm uneven and scarred, his once delicate, slim fingers now slightly bent, fragile, yet their touch was certain, his fingernails only a little too long (Martin bit at them when he was stressed, but Jon never did; he resorted to nervously tangling his fingers instead). He felt himself letting out a long breath of air he didn’t know he had been holding until then, and with it went some of the tension bottled up deep inside his body, when he felt Jon’s thumb slowly caress his cheek in a circular motion. He didn’t open his eyes yet, and he felt the other man’s hand shifting slightly, at an infuriating slow pace, probably in order not to startle him. Said hand slowly reached up, and he felt Jon’s thumb softly against his skin again, this time in his eyelid, moving upwards, tracing his eyebrow, his index finger drawing circles over his forehead with a gentleness almost unparalleled… Jon ran his hand a few times through Martin’s hair, in a calming motion, only for his thumb to then trace the way back down, gently playing with his ear, lingering there for a second or two, before it made its way to Martin’s jawline, lips…

Jon finally let his hand down, and Martin begrudgingly opened his eyes. He was staring at him. Of course, he was staring at him. He blinked whatever was left of sleep within him and smiled back. He stared at the other man for a few minutes, without saying anything. Jon seemed reluctant to say something either. Martin eventually blinked. Jon didn’t. He finally opened his mouth, his voice coming out hoarse yet filled with such affection Martin felt his stomach twist for a second with what he might have once called butterflies. Not anymore, though.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” Was all Jon said. Martin knew he didn’t look beautiful. He could still feel the tears drying up in his cheeks, although he didn’t know why he was crying in the first place, and he sniffed. He shifted his body, so he’d be looking up, to the ceiling. The sounds of the outside world were… bad. They were bad. He shook a little beneath the bedsheets.

“Do you, err… do you want me to bring you another blanket?” Jon asked, cautiously. “The one in the couch is… very comfortable.” He was aware Jon knew he wasn’t shaking out of coldness, but he nodded regardless.

“I know.” Martin said. He was the one who put it there, after all. That’s where Jon spent most of his time after the change. He used to stare silently at the wall, shaking. Sometimes he would let out small huffs of air, like he was trying to laugh but his voice wasn’t there to laugh with him. Martin took the warmest looking blanket he could find (Daisy was, apparently, not one for seeking comfort underneath a blanket and a warm cup of hot cocoa) and put it around him, making sure to cover him entirely. He used to leave Jon like that for a while, not wanting to invade his privacy, but sometimes he felt the need to rest a hand on his shoulder, whisper comforting words he knew Jon would not believe (after all, neither did he), kiss his forehead or his hair… although he wasn’t sure Jon even noticed he was there most of the time.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an unknown feeling to Martin. So, he carried on, he made tea…

But the tea was gone.

So was the world.

Martin shook slightly harder. Jon bent over his arm to stare at him properly, this time; his green eyes glowing almost imperceptibly to the human eye. If Martin didn’t know, he wouldn’t have noticed. He always noticed, though.

“Are you sure about that blanket?” He asked again. “It’s… I…” He closed his mouth in defeat, at a loss for words.

“Yes. Yes. Go grab it,” Martin conceded. “… please.” He added.

Honestly, he just wanted to get Jon out of the room for a bit, give him a chance to collect himself. To function properly. To take a deep breath without feeling a pair of big, inquiring eyes upon him. Of course, Jon knew this. He should feel guilty. He just didn’t have it in him to feel guilty anymore. This, Jon also knew. Martin wished he could believe there was something Jon did not, in fact, know, at that point. But he had chosen not to care about that either. Not anymore. It was only going to hurt the both of them if he did anyway.

Jon, however, got up silently, took his share of bedsheets he was leaving behind and tucked them closer to Martin so he would keep the warmth his body was leaving behind. Not like Jon produced a lot of body heat, tiny and cold as he was, but the gesture was sweet. It made Martin feel slightly better, and also, slightly guilty, now for real. He closed his eyes with a soft, quick hum and heard the door open and close behind him. There was no need for Jon to close the door, he shouldn’t be long if all he needed to do was retrieve the woollen blanket on the couch, but Martin realised. This was Jon’s way of giving him some privacy. He still felt observed, but this time, the only pair of eyes he actually didn’t mind being observed by were gone.

It did take some of the tension out of him, however. The cabin was… safe. Allegedly. At least, he thought so. And the feeling of being watched decreased significantly with Jon being out of the room. He heard him fumbling in the adjoining room through the paper-thin walls, but he didn’t know what the other man was doing. He used this time to calm himself down as best he could. He sat on the bed, stretched a bit, felt his shoulders crack and moved his neck around. He took a deep breath, held, let it out, repeat. Five breaths later, he felt almost like a person. Almost.

“Jon?” He called out, voice loud enough for the other to hear. He didn’t wait for a response or a confirmation that Jon had, in fact, heard him, when he added: “I think you can come back in now.”

Jon opened the door trying his best not to let his eagerness show, carrying the infamous woollen blanket and… two mugs. For some reason. Martin eyed the man who stood in front of him suspiciously. Jon, patient as a saint, waited, leaning against the doorframe. Finally, Martin nodded, and he made his way to the bed. He didn’t climb onto the bed outright, sliding his knee up first instead, and dropping the objects he was carrying on the mattress carefully. He took the blanket and rounded up the bed until he got to Martin’s side. He placed it gently over his shoulders, instead of putting it on top of the bedsheets.

“I think we can both curl up under there.” He commented casually, a smile painting his words with comfort and love. Martin couldn’t help but smile back, softly.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

As much as he wanted to ask about the mugs, he knew he had to let Jon do his thing, on his own time. This was as much of a coping mechanism to him as it was to Martin.

Finally, with Jon on his side of the bed, Martin opened up the blanket as the other man positioned himself beneath the bedsheets. He took his side of the blanket as well, curling up beneath Martin’s big arm, pressing close to his side. He let out a content sigh and Martin’s heart beat a little faster. He didn’t even care how they’d ended up in this situation, all he cared about was the man who embraced him in his arms and hid his face in Martin’s neck, taking a deep breath. Martin absentmindedly pet Jon’s hair while his gaze diverted to the mugs, standing on the corner of the bed, untouched, empty.

“Jon…”

“Oh! Yes, right. Sorry.” Jon let out a small chuckle, not unlike him these days, but that would’ve been foreign to Martin before all this happened. He seemed so much better than… well. Before.

To some extent at least.

He knew though. He knew Jon was only putting up a show. Martin had been the one in charge of taking care of them before, and he knew Jon felt like it was his turn now. Martin thought it shouldn’t be like this. They had to take care of each other mutually, not just take turns and whatnot. While he was lost in thought, Jon had reached up for the mugs and handed one to Martin. The one with the tartan print on it.

“What’s this?”

“… A mug.”

“No- yes. Jon, I know it’s a mug-”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry, I-”

They kind of stepped on each other’s words for a bit until Jon decided to shut up, looking away with a flustered expression and a shame-induced smile that was still too endearing to Martin to avoid blushing too, himself.

“Look. I… why did you bring the mugs? You said there was no tea left and…”

Jon patiently waited for him to finish. But he didn’t. When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, Jon sighed and pressed harder to Martin’s flank, shifting his own mug in his hands abstractedly.

“I know you like that mug.”

“What?”

“When… when everything was… when I didn’t… before I… well.” Martin did not press him to continue, just as Jon had waited for him to sort out his thoughts. Jon let out a quiet damnit and looked up in frustration. A storm raged in his eyes, and Martin slowly brought his hand to the other’s knee, squishing softly. Jon resumed, sometime afterwards, leaning into Martin’s touch almost desperately, like a sailor stranded at sea for far too long.

“When there was still tea left,” he said, and Martin knew. He had tried to talk to Jon about it, but the blame, the shame, the pain, the fear… it was all too much for him still. Maybe time was running out. Maybe not. Maybe it was all in his head. It could be. He didn’t know. There were so many things he didn’t know these days… But he wouldn’t push Jon. Not so hard. Not yet. Not still. He nodded, and Jon continued, a pinch of sadness crawling onto his voice. He tried to hide it with a cough, but he couldn’t. “When there was still tea left, you used to take these two mugs to make it the most often. You always kept the one with the tartan pattern on it, so, evidently, I assumed… you know.”

“Oh,” Martin whispered, softly.

“Yes. Well.” Jon coughed again. “It thought maybe… even if it was an unconscious choice, you know… I just… maybe, just maybe, it would make you feel better.”

Martin felt a warmth in his body that he knew was not because of the blankets, or Jon’s body next to him (though that sure helped), he smiled, tears threatening to bloom out of his eyes once again, albeit this time for very different reasons. He kissed Jon’s hair and kept his face buried there, the smell of the person he loved the most lingering, covering him, plunging him into memories of a different time, a different world, a different life. He closed his eyes and kissed Jon again, in the same spot, over, and over, slowly, gently, taking in as much of him as he possibly could, while his hands clutched the tartan mug.

Nothing else mattered. For now, he was safe. Jon was here. They were safe.

#*Trexel Geisman voice* FINALLYYYYYYYY IT'S DOOOONEEEEEE #mine #my fic #my writing #GOD I'M SORRY THIS IS TERRIBLE #*laughs maniacally*#the gremlin writes fanfiction #jonmartin is good for the soul #this is supposed to be between 160 and 161 right? but i suck at timelines because time isn't real #if the format gets fucked up again i am going to cry #it's gonna tho innit #oh i forgot DO NOT REPOST I SWEAR TO GOD

4 notes · View notes

uruhabuns · 5 years ago

Text

It’s all about the foundation (part 3) (makeup artist!reader x ruki)

A/N: HELLO I AM FASHIONABLY LATE AS USUAL BC I’VE BEEN SO BUSY AFTER EXCHANGE SETTLING DOWN AND TRYING TO FIND A JOB ;____; but yes, this could be the final part of this series (unless you guys want another part?), so i hope you guys enjoy reading this and please give a like or reblog if you’ve read <3

Part 1 / Part 2

Pairing: girl reader x ruki

Genre: fluff

After the main setlist, the boys came back into the dressing room to freshen up before the encore

You knew how stressful this time was, as idols usually had only 5 minutes before they had to go back to the stage

However, while the band were in the middle of playing main setlist, the stylists told you the band had 10 minutes before the encore, so you didn’t have to stress as much

But....you had to help touch up Ruki’s makeup, which was the hardest out of the members

Yikes that oily af skin and those blemishes

I’m not roasting him at all :)))

As Ruki went into the other makeup room to change into the tour goods, you grabbed the towel the stylists gave you to pat off his sweat later

As you were waiting, you felt your heart begin to race at the thought of doing Ruki’s makeup again.

Why were you nervous? He was just another client...a really charismatic and good looking client.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Ruki sat in the makeup chair you stood next to and saw that he was already changed into the tour shirt and black jeans, so you began to quickly pat his face with the towel

You then carefully wiped makeup remover across Ruki’s face, avoiding the eye makeup, to remove the foundation

Ruki felt his heart race slightly again at the distance between the two of you, and the light scent of your perfume as you wiped his face, but he quickly banished the thoughts from his head, since he needed to think about the upcoming performance

During that time, the two of you didn’t speak a single word to each other because were so concentrated on your work, and he was focused on the encore, so both of you didn’t have time to think about your feelings

You thoroughly reapplied the MAC primer, concealer, and foundation that were provided with your light technique that you used on idols, since MAC products could feel quite heavy on the skin

You then set everything with your holy grail Etude House Fix and Fix loose powder (of which you tried to hide from the senior stylists so they wouldn’t scold you for using a Korean roadshop product on Ruki)

Surprisingly, you managed to finish with two minutes to spare so Ruki could re-hydrate before the encore

FAST FORWARD TO AFTER THE CONCERT

Everything was packed up and finished by 11pm, and you were invited to go to dinner with the staff

At first, you were hesitant because it was late and you just wanted to go home and crash, but the senior makeup artists offered to pay for the food since you were the youngest there

So you agreed to go because free food

You joined them in their van, while the band members got their own van to the BBQ restaurant

After settling into a seat in the van, the other stylists were chatting among themselves while you scrolled through your Instagram feed

As you were scrolling down the “GazettE” hashtag to get to know the band better, Reita’s makeup artist nudged your arm

“Say, _______-chan, how did you find it today?”

Your cheeks turned slightly pink as you could only think of Ruki and how handsome he was. However, you shook off the thoughts before answering, “It was interesting. I’ve never worked with a visual kei band before, so the experience was quite different to what I’m used to. Especially because the makeup style was pretty different to idols.”

Aoi’s makeup artist giggled. “Was that all? I think Ruki-san seemed quite excited every time he saw you.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and ears. Did you hear correctly? Ruki? Excited about you? Even though you wanted to know more about his reactions, you knew they were joking, so you only giggled and shook your head.

Reita’s stylist nudged her co-worker’s shoulder in disapproval. “Don’t say stuff like that in front of the rookie! You know how much trouble we’ll be in if a scandal breaks out.”

The other woman only rolled her eyes. “Oh, you know I’m only playing around. As if a scandal can break out from talking among ourselves in a private place. Even ________-chan knows, right?”

You felt a slight drop in your chest when she said it was only a joke.

You had no choice but to swallow and nod quickly.

Why did you feel this way towards a man you barely knew?

Before you knew it, the vans arrived at the front of the BBQ restaurant in Shinjuku

You got out of the van along with the senpai stylists, keeping close to them.

You looked around to search for the other staff and band members themselves, to which you saw them coming out of the vans a few metres away from you.

Your heart felt like it skipped a beat when you saw Ruki’s figure and blond hair

When he took a glance at you, you gasped softly and turned away to face your senpais

Ruki smirked when he saw your reaction.

The cute types, huh...there’s always something about them...

When everyone had gathered, the managers and band went in first, while the rest of the staff including you followed.

Because there were so many people in your group, you had to be assigned two tables

The band, managers, and some staff took one table, while you, the stylists, and other staff took the other

Of course you were a bit disappointed that you couldn’t sit near the band (ahem, Ruki), but you couldn’t complain

So you just sucked it up and sat next to Reita’s stylist

After all the orders were made, your senpais made conversation with you, asking how you found working with the band

You told them that the guys were really nice and pleasant to work with, and that they treated you well especially since you were new to working with them

Little did you know that a few seats away on the other table, Ruki was listening to what you were saying, especially to the things you said about him

Upon seeing Ruki’s expressions, Uruha nudged his arm with his elbow.

“You look unusually happy about something,” he teased. “Is it that girl?”

Ruki made a disgusted expression. “As if. She looks too young for me anyway. You know I’m not one of those love-at-first-sight people.”

Uruha chuckled in amusement. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that. But something tells me you’ve got a thing for her already.”

“Shut up.”

A few minutes later, you excused yourself from the table to go to the bathroom.

Ruki noticed this as a perfect opportunity to talk to you privately, but he decided to wait before going so it wouldn’t look like he wanted to follow you.

After you finished washing and drying your hands, you opened the bathroom door to see Ruki leaning against the wall as he was waiting outside in front of the door.

Your heart felt like it stopped. “R-Ruki-sa-?”

“Shh,” he hushed, putting his index finger to his lips, and covering your mouth with the other hand.

Your eyes widened at the sudden closeness and intimate contact. You could feel your face turning pink while your heart began to race.

“Call me Taka.”

You blinked in surprise as he pulled his hand away from you.

Taka? Is that his real name?

“T-Taka? Why-”

Ruki leaned closer to you, making your face heat up. “There might be fans around,” he said quietly, “You can call me by my stage name when we’re in a quiet place.”

You gulped, and nodded reluctantly, still uncomfortable with calling him by a name other than Ruki.

“Alright...Taka-san.”

Ruki gave you a small smirk, making your heart race again

You smiled and bowed your head shyly. “I-I’ll get back now-”

Ruki grabbed your wrist as you began walking off.

“T-Taka-san?” you said, facing him completely flustered at this point.

“Give me your LINE. I just wanna make sure that this isn’t the last time I get to see you.”

At that moment, your eyes widened. You felt like your breathing and heart stopped at the same time.

HOLY SHIT!!!! THE HOT CLIENT ACTUALLY SAID THAT TO ME. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! What does this mean?! How could someone as cool as Ruki want to see me again?

“Are you sure? I’m still a rookie makeup artist, so I don’t think I can-”

“Fuck the rules,” Ruki jammed in nonchalantly. “I’m not about that life.”

Your jaw dropped.

How could someone just disregard rules so easily like that? Doesn’t he care that the both of you could get into serious trouble if your seniors found out?

Not that you were complaining. Ruki had captivated you since you first saw him.

You swallowed a gulp again before pulling out your phone to exchange LINE IDs with Ruki.

After doing so, you excused yourself to get back to the table.

“Enjoy the rest of the night,” Ruki said to you.

“Thank you. You too.”

When you got back to your seat, the food had already arrived, and everyone on your table was waiting for you.

“_______-chan, you’re finally back!” Reita’s stylist said.

“Ah, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Never mind that, your face is so red!” Kai’s stylist called out jokingly, “Have you been drinking in the bathroom?”

You clapped your hands to your cheeks. SHIT!

“N-no, of course not!”

“I’m kidding. Sit down, you must be starving!”

You nodded. “Y-yes. I’m sorry again to make you wait.”

The night passed by without you or Ruki speaking to each other.

When it was time to leave, you went into the van with the rest of the stylists.

As soon as you sat down, you felt your phone vibrate to signal that you received a LINE message.

Taka: Text me when you get home

You furrowed your eyebrows. That’s it? I guess he is a man of a few words...

_______: Okay, I will. _______: It was nice meeting you today!

You didn’t get a reply after that, though you weren’t surprised

It was 1am by the time you were dropped off in front of your apartment block.

You said your goodbyes to the stylists as you left the vehicle, wishing them goodnight.

As soon as you got into the elevator, you suddenly felt the fatigue hit you all at once.

You were up since 6am, so you couldn’t wait to crash

When you got inside your apartment, you greeted your parents sluggishly. “Tadaima...”

“_______! Okaeri,” your mum called from the kitchen. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Yeah, we had yakiniku, and the staff paid for it.”

“How was it today?” your dad asked from the dining table, looking up at you from the newspaper he was reading.

You only yawned. “So tiring...” you mumbled as you took your shoes off. “I hate working such long hours...”

“Yes, I know,” your dad replied, “But it’s part of life. How were the clients?”

“It was a visual kei band called the GazettE,” you answered, “They were really nice guys. Apparently they’ve been around since 2002.”

“That long?” your mum said, “They must be very good musicians. Anyway, don’t get involved with visual kei men. They only cause trouble for women from what I heard.”

You rolled your eyes as you made your way to your room. “As if I would. Besides, these guys are a lot older and more mature than other visual kei artists, and they have a big reputation to uphold, so I don’t think they would want to get involved with girls anyway.”

As soon as you got into your room, you put your duffle bag next to your desk before flopping onto your bed.

You suddenly remembered Ruki’s message, and grabbed your phone to text him.

_______: I just got home!

You then changed into your pyjamas before going to the bathroom to brush your teeth and cleanse your face.

After you had finished the rest of your skincare routine, you checked your phone to see that Ruki had replied.

Taka: Alright. Thanks for today. I hope to see you again soon.

_______: Me too. It was fun today!

Taka: It was. Lives are always like that. Taka: Who are you gonna work with next?

_______: I think I’ll be working with another Korean idol group, since they’re always coming over here

Taka: Well then, goodnight. You did well today.

_______: Goodnight, Ruki-san, rest well

You squealed into your pillow, kicking your legs up and down on your bed as if you were a high school girl in love

Though, you weren’t in love with Ruki; you just found him super attractive and charismatic

Let’s just say you went to sleep on cloud nine

On the other side, Ruki was lying in bed with his hands on his face in embarrassment.

He couldn’t believe what he did.

He literally told you in real life AND in text that he wanted to see you again, and made it sound like he was interested in you when he knew he shouldn’t be.

Ruki then remembered Uruha’s words earlier that day: “...if you do end up dating her, or someone like her, don’t break her heart. She seems too innocent for people like us.”

He didn’t realise how you could unearth the feelings he worked so hard to bury for so long. He didn’t want to risk it again, and he didn’t want to risk hurting you either. After all, you were a lot younger than him, so he didn’t want to take that innocence away from you.

But there was something about you that he couldn’t take his mind off from.

#mine.#ruki #the gazette #my writing #finally finished this part omg #do u guys want another??? a date w ruki maybe????#👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀#HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!

15 notes · View notes

pkmntrainergreyze · 6 years ago

Text

Sleep (Mikey Way x Reader)

Tried making this short. Noticed most of my stories are 1k to 2k words so…

I know it’s late and I don’t celebrate Valentine’s, but please know that you are loved, no matter what day it is ❤

———

(Y/n) fell flat on Mikey’s guestroom bed. Her eyes conveyed smudged dark concaves. Her features yelled her fatigue, yet even at 6 am she couldn’t sleep.

She wriggled in his provided skimpy blanket. Not one comfy position. She shut her eyes and awaited for a truant wave of drowsiness. No luck.

She whimpered.

She hooked her nails deep on her bestfriend’s pillow. Her footsteps resonated while she strutted down the silent hall.

“Mikey…” She whispered.

The blonde, who was previously watching Netflix, craned his neck. He looked youthful, he could be easily mistaken as a nineteen year old. She’s quite jealous. Nothing can disturb her more than the fact there is no sign of sleep deprivation in him. Except for the stench of coffee oozing when he talks, most agreed it’s part of his charisma.

“Yeah?” He asked, not moving from the couch.

“I can’t sleep” She pouted.

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow. Oh really? No shit.

He continued navigating his movie options.

“Don’t look at the clock, read books, or something. I don’t know. I’m still not Quora or Yahoo Answers… Zzzz…”

He began the fifth episode of The Umbrella Academy, gambling time to support both Gabriel and his brother’s comic’s Netflix adaption.

His response did not please (Y/n) nor was she offended. She developed full immunity against his unhelpful remarks. She tried them all in the past, in addition to chamomile tea and coloring books, but none kicked it.

Miracles and concerts can possibly make her sleep, but Mikey’s list? That ain’t it, chief.

She sat beside him and rested her head on top of his shoulder. He pretended to remain unfazed and skipped the episode’s intro.

‘This was just what bestfriends do at slumber parties’ he supposed.

He gulped.

‘Alarmingly, slumber parties with (Y/n) invited means no sleeping nor party. Instead of putting her to sleep. I’ll be awake till 6am’

Mikey snaked his hand around her waist. He learned the hard way that Movies intensifies her insomnia so he placed a pillow above his lap, prompting her to lay there as he turned the TV off.

He combed her hair with his slender calloused fingers. This always relaxed her, and step one is always comfort.

“How do you sleep?” She asked yet again, like every other night she calls.

“I close my eyes and don’t think” If Mikey sounded monotone, then he’s robotic now.

“You know I can’t do the last part…” (Y/n) muttered.

“Then I’ll have to tire you out by thinking a lot”

“Wait, so you’re saying that unicorns aren’t real cause it’s not in bible?” He whisper-yelled. The outburst raised her eyebrow, but nothing she ain’t used to.

Reluctantly, she answered “Umm yeah, and there’s no actual records of horses with a horn and a lion’s tail”

He scoffed “Bullshit. The Englishmen have documented and seen shit”

“Sorry to burst your bubble sweetie, do me a favor and buy a Merriam English dictionary. It’ll clearly state it’s an imaginary animal”

Sweetie.

She called me sweetie.

That’s so adorable—

His face hardened. No. Unicorns, Mikey. Think Unicorns. Be the sass princess middle school girl you truly are.

“Unicorns aren’t real Mikey” He mocked (he really only had the confidence to say this after punching poor Ryan)

“Who are you? Mr Ross from AP Chemistry?” He referred to the Professor who argued the same point (Y/n) had.

She shook her head in disappointment “Better than a mid-twenties man who still watches My Little Pony”

He bobbed his head “Yeah, you got me”

She blinked a couple of times and pinched her cheek roughly. A load of air piled in her lungs as she began to shake.

“Did you just—” She gawked “Did you just smirked?!”

His face solidified “No.”

“I swear I saw you smiled just earlier” She exhaled in disbelief.

“For twelve straight years I thought you were a robot!” She placed a hand on her mouth and proceeded to muffle her squeal.

He may look calm and ready but inside he’s as nervous as teenagers on remedial exams. Not now. Damn it, he’s saving that grin for a special occassion! This is so anticlimactic.

Fuck! What to do, what to do.

His caffeinated eyes rambled everywhere. The television, his remote, the poster Gerard superglued in his kitchen and a spectroscopic dust became the most intriguing items in the planet. It was amusing, especially for (Y/n) who counted the unbreakable strike now shattered in both their faces.

Suddenly, with fidgety hands the younger Way lifted and carried her to bed. Course, she didn’t complain, she opted it as a sign of weakness and forfeit and talked nonstop. She’d be lying if she said this didn’t caused her internal butterflies to flutter, but who’s asking?

He gently laid her down the bed. Before she could sit down and mock him more, he snatched her wrists and pushed her down.

“Alright” He said shakily “H-hate to break it to you (Y/n), but you’ve been lucid dreaming this whole time and you know it”

She giggled “No I’m not—

Mikey plastered the pillow to her face, almost suffocating her. Or maybe that was the point?

“Go. To. Sleep.” He whispered to her free ear “You’re dreaming (Y/n), wake up!”

She sounded like she was saying “but!”, but it was muffled.

“Shh…” He removed his grip and scooted beside her “Sleep.”

She rolled her eyes. There’s no way he’d let her speak. She knew whenever Mikey puts his mind on something he can accomplish anything. This is one of those scenarios.

Then again, she does feel tired… Quite the shocking rumor huh?

There she is, looking like a drop dead porcelain doll in Mikey’s arms, more artistic than a Franz Anton Bustelli masterpiece.

His eyes batted at the realization of burden close to his chest. He can’t move. She looks exceptionally peaceful in his arms, and there’s no alternate universe in which he’ll pass the opportunity not to absorb her features. In fact, in the first two minutes there’s a list of details in his head already.

And those little things gravitated his face a kissing meter away from her.

He shut his eyes. This is it. The moment he shook, daydreaming about for so long he can barely remember the beginning of this fantasy.

Their first kiss.

The situation felt so good to be true. Just a peck and he’d he satisfied.

He flinched.

No.

It wouldn’t feel right sealing her first kiss when she’s asleep.

It would be his first kiss and her goodnight sleep.

He considered it long before he seperated himself tenderly, and replaced a pillow for her to snuggle. This night isn’t about him, it’s about her, and if he had to wait long for her to sleep, then he had to wait longer for their kiss.

Believe me, that was an excruciating decision. It’s so easy to entice his temptation that he nearly did both him and her dirty.

But it was the best thing to do.

It’s 2am, birds are already warbling outside and the aroma of coffee is as strong as yesterday. On Mikey’s path out of the room, he casted his gaze to (Y/n)’s face one last time. He scowled.

“I’d rather let her see me smile than no one at all”

—-

Why do i reference my old fanfictions? I don’t know either

BUT THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY MAN, WATCH IT. I’m trash for the comics so much that I will take whatever crap happened in the Netflix Adaption

Update: I finished it. So good. There are tons of changes from what I read from the comicscbut still a series worth watching. Plus, we get to see more of Ben and Delores unlike the comics :D

Trust me, it’s good

P.S:

I know it’s a shameless self promotion but I’ve busied myself making a The Umbrella Academy [mainly the apocalypse suite] in a nutshell video.

So far I’m just in the introduction:

https://youtu.be/miQzxV2IPtg

#mikey way #mikey way x reader #my chemical romance #gerard way x reader #gerard way #electric century #imagines #mikey way imagines #mikey way imagine #imagine #my chemical mikey

28 notes · View notes

sis-tafics · 7 years ago

Text

Dean’s Little Secret - Right on the Edge

Summary: Our Little Secret Part 3 from Dean’s POV- Dean picks something from the list and it doesn’t quite go as planned

Our Little Secret Masterlist

Dean’s Little Secret Masterlist

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 5000

Warnings: Smut, fingering, edging, language

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. A special thank you to @eyes-of-a-disney-princess and @mirandaaustin93 for looking this over for me.

She falls asleep really fast, and even though I’m exhausted, I can’t. I can’t get over it, how perfect she is, how she’s here with me, curled up against my side. I brush the stray hair away from her face, touching her skin gently, running my thumb over her cheek as her eyes move back and forth under the lids as she dreams.

I must doze off because I jolt awake when she mumbles something, then again but more distressed, her breathing picking up. I adjust, half sitting so I can pull her against me, holding her tight, “Shh sweetheart. I’m right here.”

Her eyes flutter open for a moment, glancing around worriedly and then they settle on me. She instantly relaxes, smiling softly, her head dropping back on my arm and her eyes falling shut again as she presses her face against me. Goddamn nightmares.

I press a kiss to the top of her head as I settle back against her, careful not to rock her too much and wake her back up. I know I have to leave soon, head back to my room, come up with some lame ass excuse, but I don’t fucking want to. I just want to stay here with her.

I kinda wonder what it would take to get her to tell Sam about us so we wouldn’t need to hide. Is that something she wants? Cause fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can take going weeks without feeling her skin against mine, being able to kiss her, hold her hand. It’s not like it’s been with all those one night stands, those other women, I want to be with her.

But what if she doesn’t want that? What if this is just about the list for her? I can feel my chest tighten a little at the thought. Fuck, I don’t know what I want, because hunters don’t get the apple pie life, but she makes me believe that I can, that I can have it all.

I lay my head back against the pillows, letting myself doze off again. Just a few more minutes won’t hurt.

Next thing I know I’m glancing over at the clock and it’s almost four in the morning, “Shit.”

“Hmm?” she nuzzles against me, pressing her lips to the side of my neck, “What’s goin’ on?”

I slide away, bending down to kiss her one more time, not wanting to pull away, “I gotta go sweetheart, I fell asleep.”

For a second, I almost think she looks disappointed, but it’s just my imagination running wild. She pulls down a pillow, wrapping her arms around it like she was wrapped around me a moment ago, giving me a small smile, “What time are we leaving?”

“We are staying here all weekend.”

She shakes her head, “I heard your phone buzzing sometime last night...There’s only two people that would call you at that time and I was right next to you.”

“Shit,” I mumble, digging through my jean pockets and sure enough there are two missed calls from Sam and one text.

-Got a hunt, we should leave in the morning. 6AM?

Fuck. I just wanted a few days off, is that too much to ask?

-Make sure your ass is ready to go.

“Six A.M. sweetheart.”

She rolls her eyes, snuggling back against the pillow, “Guess I can get another hour of shut-eye….Are you leaving?”

I nod, swallowing. I don’t know what I expect her to say, maybe stay. Fuck, I gotta stop that shit.

I shake my head, going for the door, trying not to look back at her.

____

5:54AM and I’m leaning up against the car, Sam had just gotten up as I was finishing putting my shit in my bag. I’m just glad he didn’t ask where I was last night.

I hear her door crack and I look up and she immediately smiles, fuck it makes it hard to breathe.

“Hey there sweetheart.”

She adjusts her bag over her shoulder, walking towards me, her eyes shifting away as she blushes, “Hey yourself…Thought we were rolling at six, where’s Sam?”

Sam’s going to take forever, and the way she looks makes me want her, makes me wish I never left this morning, and it makes me remember one little thing she starred last night on the list.

As she goes to head for the trunk I snake an arm around her waist, spinning her, pinning her between me and the car, “He just got up and is getting a shower.”

Her chest rises and falls heavily, her eyes darting from mine to my lips as the red creeps up her neck and her bag thumps down on the ground. She swallows, “D-dean, we are so going to get caught.”

I lean down, ghosting my lips over her jaw, right under her ear, “We got five or ten minutes, everyone else is still sleeping.”

I nudge her legs apart, pushing my body against hers, my dick twitching as I think about her and what I’m going to do. I kiss her, falling into it, wanting to get lost in it and she tastes like mint and cheap motel coffee and fuck it’s like getting drunk.

I force myself to keep thinking, keep going, we’ve only got a little time and I want this to work, but there is so much I want to do.

Her head falls back against the car and I run my lips over her throat, opening the first couple buttons of her flannel. I mark up the top of her tits, sucking hard, nipping, leaving hickies between there and her collarbone as she moans and squirms against me.

I work on her belt buckle, getting it undone, snapping the button of her jeans loose. Fuck, she looks beautiful. The way her hair falls over her shoulders, the way her lips part. Then her eyes, how trusting they are. Like this isn’t something in a million fucking years she would do, but because it’s me, she wants to. I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into it, but it makes it almost impossible to breathe.

Her fingers grip my shoulders, and she's biting down on her lip hard, trying not to make any noise and failing miserably.I run my hand down her stomach, making sure she knows what’s coming, giving her the time to stop me if she wants. She doesn’t though, not as my fingers slip past the top of her jeans and into her panties. I brush the lips of her pussy lightly and when I slip past, she gasps, her body starting to shake.

Fuck, she’s so wet already. I rub her clit, watching as she bites her lip and her breaths come in shaky pants. Her hips start bucking but I cage her in, holding her still against the car as I bury my face against her neck, pressing a kiss there, tasting her salty skin as she moans.

I push my fingers into her pussy and her walls clench around me.Her fingers tear at my shirt as I pump slowly, curling my fingers against her g-spot. She whimpers, whines low and presses her face against my chest, biting my shirt to keep herself quiet. Fuck, this is all kinds of hot and I’m harder than hell because of her.

“You’re so wet sweetheart, that tight pussy clenching around my fingers,” god, that sounds corny, like it is out of some porno, but she groans as her pussy flutters.

“O-oh g-god...Please,” she gasps as I start to move faster. Jesus Christ, I wanna give her what she wants, but it will be worth it, I swear sweetheart.

“You like that? Like the way my fingers feel?”

“F-fuck,” she hisses, looking up at me, her eyes just on this side of wild.

“Yes or no sweetheart?” I scissor my fingers and her eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she moans.

“Yes, fuck yes,” she almost yells, it’s barely contained and I kiss her hard, trying to keep her kinda quiet. I really don’t give a shit if we get caught, but I know how she would feel and I wanna get this right.

Her pussy clenches hard and I know with a few pumps she would be coming all over my hand. I hear the door on the other side of the building slam shut, Sam’s heading this way. I pull away, letting her slump back against the car, “Time’s up sweetheart.”

“W-what?” She stares at me, confused, in total disbelief as she pants.

I can hear Sam’s boots as I pull her upright, trying to give her a chance to look like I hadn’t been fingering her in the parking lot, “Fuck Sam, took you long enough.”

She turns quickly, bumping against the car, her eyes wide as she tries like hell to look inconspicuous. It’s hard not to laugh because the more she tries, the more she looks like she is trying to hide something, looks like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar, even though it was my hand in, well...

Sam rolls his eyes at me, “Oh sure, give me shit. Y/N hasn’t gotten her bag in the car yet either.”

“She was out here before your ass.”

“Doesn’t matter, you said ass in seat .”

“Well your ass is still not anywhere near a seat,” I try to give her some time as she fumbles with her belt buckle and pretty much dives for her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and racing for the trunk.

She opens it and then freezes. Sam notices right away, “Y/N?”

Shit.

“Y/N?” He tries again, taking his bag to the trunk.

“Y/N!” She jumps as he touches her arm.

“Wh-?” She looks at him quickly, then to me, shaking her head.

“I said your name like five times...You feeling okay? You’re a little red.” Thank Christ, he thinks she’s just sick.

She waves at him, throwing her bag in, “Yeah, yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just still waking up I guess.”

“You sure?”

“Yep,” she nods, but I don’t miss how she glances at me, swallowing hard, “What are we waiting for? Get in and let’s go hunting.”

Sam gets in the car right away, climbing in shotgun, and she stares at me, her forehead crinkled. I can’t help but smile and wink.

Her face falls and her lips purse, she knows I did it on purpose now, and fuck I hope it gets her as wound up as it does me.

I watch her in the rearview as the miles pass, barely listening to Sam. She squirms around a little, then catches my eyes. She huffs, crossing her arms and slouching on the seat, it’s almost comical, well, it would be if my dick wasn’t pushing against the zipper of my jeans.

Fuck I want her. This seemed like a good idea, but how the fuck am I supposed to make it almost two days without coming all over myself like a kid?

Time passes so damn slow and I don’t know what the hell to do. I’ve got three quarter tank before I need to stop and if I stop early, Sam’s gonna ask questions. Shit.

So I plan, thinking it through. I can reserve another room there when I hit the head at the gas stop. I can work her up some more, and yeah I run the risk of blowing my load, but fuck, the way she looked this morning pressed up against the Impala, begging me? There couldn’t be anything better than that.

___

Fuck, by the time I have to pull into the second gas station, I’m going insane. When I started this, I never expected her to be the only thing on my mind. I’d almost ran two red lights because all I could think about is the way she feels against me and I keep picturing it over and over again.

“Sam! Finish pumping the gas,” I mutter, heading to the restroom, fishing my phone out of my pocket, looking for a motel where we are going.

I dial the number and when the guy answers I reserve a room under one of my credit cards.

Good, I can finish this right, get her all worked up, and then...I can’t help but groan as I think about her coming undone after all of this. Get yourself together Dean.

I pay for the gas and grab a couple of candy bars. I walk out and Y/N’s there, sitting against the front of the car under the overhead lights, kicking around the rocks on the ground. She looks up and meets my eyes and I swear my heart starts thumping faster.

She swallows hard, staring at me and then crosses her arms, trying to look angry at me. It’s all I can do to stop the smile. She’s been around me constantly for four years, I’ve known her for going on eight, I know when she’s actually mad.

She turns quickly on her heel, getting in the car, sitting against the door as Sam crawls in the back. It’s only going to be twenty minutes before he’s out cold.

I was wrong, it takes twenty-five.

I glance over and catch her watching me and I can’t help the smile. She looks pointedly away, out the window.

“Got something to say sweetheart?”

She crosses her arms over chest, huffing, “Not a thing.”

I can do this. I take a big breath, reaching over, resting my hand right above her knee, “You sure ‘bout that?” I slide my hand up higher and I hear her breath hitch and she bites her lip.

“Y-yes,” her voice breathy and it makes my dick jump.

Fuck, I need to focus, “Uh-huh.”

I keep moving my hand up and down as I keep my eyes on the road in front of me, watching the yellow and white lines.

She lets out a little moan, so quiet I don’t think she even realizes she did it. She moves closer, her legs falling open. Fuck, I press my eyes shut for a second, chewing the inside of my cheek.

“I figured we could give this one a shot,” I say low, “I mean, you starred it.”

I don’t remember much on that list, but I do remember edging, and a couple others I can’t wait to try with her. But that’s not what stands out to me, what I remember most is her warm body leaning against me, her legs tangled with mine. The way she smells like her apple shampoo and how soft she feels against me.

Stop, stop, stop. I shake my head, fucking focus.

I catch her nod out of the corner of my eye and I let my fingers trail over the seam of her jeans, all the way up to between her thighs. I flatten my hand, squeezing it over her jean covered pussy again and again. I catch her neck tighten, her pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and I can hear the low whine she tries to stifle.

My lips twitch as she slides down in the seat, rubbing herself against my hand. Her head rests against the back of the seat as she turns, watching me, her warm breath fanning over my shoulder.

Her hand brushes against mine and I freeze, watching her. I can’t breathe as she unbuttons her jeans, not caring that we are in the car, not giving a shit that Sam is snoring in the back seat as she slides the zipper down. And it’s like all the times I thought of this, nothing, none of it comes close to the real thing. Nothing comes close to how my heart jumps into my throat, or how my stomach is in knots. Nothing comes close to her.

Her hand covers mine, guiding me into the front of her jeans, her skin warm and soft against my fingers. Her hand slips away, gripping my forearm as I tease the outside of her lips, feeling how damp her panties are. She’s all kinds of worked up and we’ve barely even started.

Her jaw tightens and I dip my fingers in her folds, feeling how warm and wet she, tracing between her entrance and her clit, but not touching it. And her hips move, trying to get me to brush by it, but failing as I keep anticipating her.

Suddenly her other hand is on my thigh, squeezing as her legs fall farther apart, giving me more room to work.

I dip my first two fingers in her pussy to the first knuckle and her hand tightens on my leg. I pump a few times before moving back to her clit, rubbing it gently, making her jump a little before she’s able to keep herself still. She tries so hard as I repeat it again, pumping a few times before coming back again.

“Please Dean,” she whispers, and I’m not even sure she says it but fuck, it makes me so fucking hard it hurts and I have to adjust on the seat, trying to relieve the pressure.

“Don’t come,” I growl, trying to stay quiet.

She nods once and that’s all I need, dipping my fingers deep in her pussy, her head locking back as she moans low. I pump slowly, even thrusts that make her shake and her breathing uneven as the heel of my hand grinds against her clit.

Her face presses against my shoulder and she’s trying not to yell, she’s so damn close, her walls clenching around my fingers and fuck, I wish it was my dick buried in her and not my fingers, and I wish I was kissing her until my lungs fucking burn and my brain goes blank.

Her thighs tighten around my hand and I know she’s teetering on the edge, trying like hell not to come, but any more from me and it’s going to be near impossible with how worked up she is, so I pull away. She whines at the loss, her body twitching.

She moves away from me a little, looking up and I can feel her slick all over my fingers and I’m not wasting it, not with how fucking turned on I am right now. I stick the first finger in my mouth, noticing right away that she’s staring, so I take my time, sucking off each one, seeing how she snaps her legs together and she lets out a soft moan.

It’s still kinda hard to believe I have this effect on her. She’s everything I never thought I could have, everything I don’t deserve. My eyes meet hers and even though she’s frustrated and pent up she smiles softly at me as she goes to button up her jeans. I grab her hand, lacing our fingers together, “We still have a long trip.”

She squeezes my hand once before pulling hers away, and I can’t help the little pang of disappointment because that’s right, we aren’t actually a thing, we are just having sex and we are just friends. I repeat that to myself over and over again.

I make it about thirty miles before I reach out and touch her thigh. In the dash lights I can see the nervous smile on her face as she spreads her legs again, letting me dip my fingers in her pussy and get her wound up again. The more she fights herself, the more my dick throbs.

I really don’t know who is suffering more because of this trip, her or me. It doesn’t even get better three hours later when she switches to the backseat. All I can think about is what I want to do to her when we get to that room.

______

When we get to the motel I jump out of the car, rushing to the office before Sam has a chance to. The guy checks me in, telling me there is only one room left open so it’s a damn good thing I called ahead for the other. I take the keys for both and walk back to the Impala, “Bad news, there is only one room left.”

Y/N rolls her eyes so hard her entire body moves and her shoulders slump as she grabs her bags.

As soon as we are in the room she turns to me, “Dean, you wanna go with me to grab some take out?”

We just ate like two hours ago, the girl can throw back some food but even that’s a little fast fo- oh, oh, oh.

“Sure thing...Sam, you want some grub?” I ask just to keep up the appearance as her and I move towards the door.

“Salad,” he says quickly before throwing his bag on the table, digging for his laptop.

“Okay,” I turn towards the door, realizing she’s already out of it and halfway in the car. I can’t help but chuckle, seeing how impatient she is.

I get in and rev the engine and I’m not two miles down the country road when she says, “Pull over Dean.”

I smile, I thought honestly I was going to break first, I probably only would have made it another half mile, “I thought we were going to go get food?”

“We will, but pull the damn car off first,” she growls as I aim the Impala to the shoulder. She starts pushing down her jeans, kicking off her shoes. Fuck.

I don’t even have the car in park and she’s crawling over on me, her lips crashing against mine, her teeth scraping over my bottom lip as she tugs at it. I freeze up, I can’t really believe that she wants me this much, that any inhibitions she has are gone right now as she grinds down against me in broad daylight.

It feels like forever but I finally react, grabbing her ass, pulling her down against me, helping her find a rhythm as I kiss her back, moving my tongue against hers.

She pulls away, panting, sitting back and gasping, reaching down and tugging at my belt, accidently bumping the horn with her ass. I pull her close, laughing, “Easy there.”

She moans, frustrated and desperate as she rips the buckle off. I grab her hands, placing them on my shoulders before I go back to undoing my button and fly, pushing my pants down to my knees. My dick jumps against my stomach and she rests her forehead against mine. I steal a quick kiss, “You think you’re the only one that’s been struggling today sweetheart?”

She whimpers and I can’t stand this anymore, I want to just edge her again, tease her, but I want her too. I flip her onto her back, pulling her knees over my shoulders, and I know this is going to taste even better than I remember.

She shakes in my arms, “Jesus fucking Christ Dean.”

I groan, running my tongue over the lips of her pussy, tasting the salty sweetness, fuck. “I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.”

Before she can respond I bury my face against her, sucking on her clit, listening to her scream, feeling her tremble. I keep eating her out, push her higher and her voice jumps octaves and I don’t think I’m going to make it, I’m going to come all over myself, because watching her try to control herself is one thing, but listening to her yell for me, scream my name is a totally different kind of fucking high.

Her hips buck off the seat and I pull away, she’s going to come if I keep going and I want to get her back to that room.

“For fucks sake Dean,” she whines, begging as her body squirms on the seat under me. I’m so hard, twitching so damn much I can feel the tug in my gut.

Get her back to the room, get her back to the room, get her-, “Fuck it.”

I pull her down the seat, hooking her legs around my hips, thrusting into her in one fluid movement, bottoming out.

“Dean!” She yells, clawing at my back as she falls apart around me, her pussy clenching hard, these unsteady flutters around me and Christ, I try so damn hard. But then her voice gets caught in her throat and its these choked whimpers in time with her pulsing around me, her head thrown back, her mouth opening and closing with no words and I can’t anymore.

I fall forward, burying my face against her neck as I come hard, thrusting slowly inside her as my dick jumps. Goddamn her, goddamn how amazing she feels, goddamn how so damn perfect she is, and goddamn how this is the quickest sex I’ve ever had but she makes it the best.

I can’t catch my breath, I can’t come down as I keep pumping in her. I’ve never waited like this before, I mean if I got crazy hard over a hot chick I just go take care of it later, but I can’t get over Y/N like that, no, this is different. I don’t know how, but it is because it is her and I’ve never felt like this about anyone.

My body gives out, collapsing on her but she doesn’t seem to mind, her arms wrapping around me, fingers tangling in my hair as she scratches my scalp lightly. I try to catch my breath, but each time I get close, I shudder, feeling how she’s still fluttering around me.

I kiss her neck, chuckling, hooking my finger under her chin and pressing a kiss to her lips.

“What?” She whispers.

“That’s definitely not what I had planned. But you…” But what? I’m crazy about her? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her? That I- that I have feelings for her, that I want things with her that I’ve never wanted with anyone?

“But I what?” She touches my face gently. I shake my head, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand before adjusting us both so I’m laying beside her on the seat.

She presses a kiss to my shoulder, “What did you have planned?”

I smile, kissing her cheek, “I called ahead yesterday morning and reserved another room. I was planning on maybe a few more times,” but I’d blown that, “you know, making this last a little longer.”

It’s so easy to let myself get carried away with her, especially when it is just me and her, just us.

She smiles softly, “Well, I think we can add this to the keepers list.”

She kisses my jaw but I grab her chin, “Really?

“Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was dying a little on the drive…” she shrugs, “But definitely worth it. I’d give it another shot.”

I didn’t expect that, actually I kinda had forgotten that it was a list thing, I was so damn wrapped up in her. I rub my hand up and down her arm, letting my fingers trail over her skin.

“Oh and you know what?”

“Hmm?” I press my face against hers, relaxing back against the leather.

She kisses me softly, whispering against my lips, “We still have that room.”

I smile, “Yeah we d-...”

There is a sharp knock on the window and I cover her half naked body with mine, protecting her from whatever it is, expecting the worst.

My eyes adjust as he starts talking, “Sir, ma’am...I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle.”

“Oh shit,” she mutters, glancing at me worriedly, her forehead crinkled.

“It’s going to be okay sweetheart,” I promise.

She nods and I keep her behind me as I sit up, handing her her jeans and panties as I pull up my pants. As soon as she’s dressed I open the door, the officer waiting with his arms crossed, “Having a little afternoon fun, are we?”

I can feel her behind me and I know she’s red as her fingers tangle in the back of my shirt. I swallow, “I apologize sir, things got a little out of hand…”

“Well you two are going to take a little ride down to the station with me and my partner is going to take your car there.”

“Can’t we just chalk this up to a little-”

The guy clears his throat, “There’s nothing little about two out of towners getting it on on the side of one of my county roads… Now son, you and your girlfriend can do this the easy way and get in the back of the car or I can take you back to the station in cuffs and also pin resisting arrest on the list.”

I can feel her shaking, we have nothing and we gotta stay on good enough terms with these cops to work the case in town. Fucking rock and a hard place, “That won’t be necessary sir.”

He motions to the patrol car and I half turn, wrapping my arm around Y/N’s waist and guiding her in front of me. She’s trembling and I’m not sure why, it’s just the cops, we will get out of this, we always do, it’s just gonna suck for a couple hours.

“I’ll take care of it sweetheat, everything is going to be fine.”

TAGS:

@clarinette07

@iamcraving

@waywardlittleslytherpuffprincess

@atc74

@deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

@marvelouslyme96

@emilywritesaboutdean

@ellen-reincarnated1967

@escabell

@eyes-of-a-disney-princess

@feelmyroarrrr

@fabulouslyboredeveryday

@its-my-perky-nipples

@karlee-fay-my-wayward-son

@kittenofdoomage

@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid

@evansrogerskitten

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@meeshw777

@missinstantgratification

@supernatural-jackles

@vintagevalentinexx

@thing-you-do-with-that-thing

@wheresthekillswitch

@winchesterenthusiast

@winchesterprincessbride

@chelsea072498

dean-knight-of-hell-66

@rizlow1

@sandlee44

@jayankles

@ria132love

@sassysupernaturalsweetheart

@frankiea1998

@docharleythegeekqueen

@riversong-sam

@meganwinchester1999

@mogaruke

@typicalweirdbookworm

@little-castiel13

@social-life-no-thanks

@ruprecht0420

@deans--chevy--baby

@spn-fan-girl-173

@emwinchester1

@destiel-trash-asf

@supernatural-girl97

@fandomismyspiritanimal

@tiffanycaruso

@kdfrqqg

@fangirl-and-medstudent-help

@sofreddie

@bamby0304

@hollygopossum

@cherrycokegirls1

@im-a-light-child

@shamelesslydean

@emoryhemsworth

@super100012

@becominglionhearted

@roxyspearing

@dkpink123

@winsister91

@tas898

@mjdoc90

@rlawson418

@spnwoman

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

@polina-93

@brooke-supernatural16

@pheonyxstorm

@dwgrl1903

@geekgirl1213

@kathaswings

@ericaprice2008

@veevm

@crispychrissy

@whimsicalrobots

@destiel-equals-life

@clairese1980

@phantomphan4evr

@emilymorgan1994

@kgbrenner

@mirandaaustin93

@dani-pierce2

@writingaworldofmyown

@emptywithout

@colormestiles

@starry-chaos

@dolphincliffs

@maddieburcham1

@believeinseb

@fanfictionboard

@teaand-cookies

@alexandike

@tina8009

@blessedelua

@xristina-gkika

@aubreystilinski

@dacleverfox

@chelseadanielle19

@liebemeineslebensx

@the-queen-of-it-all

@riverfinleybeckham

@smoothdogsgirl

@kdfrqqg

@mrs-meghan-winchester

@when-in-doubt-sing

@holyfuckloueh

@bringmesomepie56

@salvachester

@torn-and-frayed

@squirrelchester

@superwholockmarauder

@akshi8278

@lavieenlex

@sylverminx

@whatsthewordcasy

@milo-winchester-4ever

@oreosatmidnight

@fangirlofeverythingme

@moonlessnight14

@deansgirl215

@sherlockstolemyname

@imascio08

@sayoshiona

@all-my-favourite-things91

@luciathewinchestergirl

@deanssweetheart23

#dean's little secret #our little secret #Dean's POV #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x female reader #spn #supernatural #reader insert #dean smut #dean series #dean x reader smut

556 notes · View notes

charlyoddsox27 · 6 years ago

Text

its 6am, i havent slept, im bored, so im posting a list of the mercs in order of whom i like the most and reasons why, because thats something i should do i guess?

here goes

(spoilers for the comics down below but either way i think im the only person on earth who has never read them before now)

~~~

~~1. Medic~~

reasons for being my favourite:

• fucking. look. at. him. 👌

• 'mad german doctor' is one of my favourite tropes and he is a pretty bang-on satirical depiction of it

• cute-ass german accent

• he has pet pidgeons hE LOVES HIS PIDGEON PALS THEY KEEP HIM COMPANY

• healers are the most respectable class imo and since Medic pretty much started it he's automatically the best, thats how it works right?

• he sold some random persons soul to satan in exchange for a ***ballpoint pen*** and can i just say, fucking mood??? (he is literally the "i'd sell you to satan for one cornchip" meme)

• "yes, Archimedes...I couldn't agree more." *shudders* b oi .. .

• so many more reasons to love this gross old doctor so little room in Tumblrs posts.

~~2. Spy~~

reasons for being my second favourite:

• cranky, done with everyones shit, just wants to be left alone, fucking mood

• he's a spy i mean c'mon. look at the swanky-ass suit, look at the class radiating from this asshole.

• he may be a dick but he has a soft side he's just too jaded to show it most of the time (see: Scouts death in the comics?? real tears. honestly wish they'd panned that out more.)

• masks are hot tbFH--

• he enjoys a nice glass of whisky by the fireplace and so do i (fun fact: france is the biggest importer of scottish whisky in the world so its a nice touch)

• shapeshifting is fucking cool are you serious like he can just. do that. what a legend

• "i have a cyanide pill in one of my molars, if i break it then spit some in your mouth before i die, we can avoid being tortured." *'heavy' bursts in to save them* "PFFTHBTHF--"

• "SEDUCE ME."

• arrogant frenchman is one of my other favourite tropes and this is the most arrogant frenchman ive ever seen

• he's the only fully sane Merc, maybe apart from Engie.

• people love to hate him bc he's an asshole but...come on. after working with all those other weirdos for years, you'd be pretty jaded too.

• as a gross shipper, he's the easiest and the most fun (imo) to ship with Medic (rip me)

~~3. Pyro~~

reasons for being my third favourite:

• would have tied with Soldier if it werent for that one picture of them in the comics holding a puppy over their head with the most adoring expression on their mask??? good Pyro. goodest Pyro.

• doesn't do much in the comics but makes up for it in pure charm. look at that soulless face and tell me you dont love it.

• ambiguous gender ambiguous gender amBIGUOUS GENDER AMBIGUOUS GENDER. she/he/they? trans? nb? whatever you headcanon, it'll never be confirmed so its literally up to your own imagination. fucking ace, Valve 👌👌👌

• likes to burn things. god damnit. they like to burn things, guys. but they enjoy it so much, you just cant hate them, you can only feel a sympathetic joy that this precious lunatic is having fun in their own little world.

• canonically mentally ill (schizoprenia? it could be hallucinogenic drugs but i like to think its schizophrenia.)

• pretty sure they burned a pair of pedophiles in the comics. at least i think thats what those panels were insinuating. "lets open an orphanage and have an endless supply of kids to--" sounds pretty red-flaggy to me tbh. plus they were the villains so, eh?

• bludgeoned a bear to death until its skull was pulp because it insulted their special interest. you go, Pyro.

• for a few bits in the comics they have a really cute family dynamic going on with other Mercs, Soldier for example."Miss Pauling, Pyros on my side of the car." "Miss Pauling, Pyro cut off my hand." fuckin' cuties.

• when they start putting on like 50 shirts to keep warm in the Russian mountains. chubby.

• a gas mask that can function as both badass, and completely adorable.

• just. everything about them. how could you not love them. they're not in the wrong, you are. stay away from my misunderstood child and let them burn things god damnit.

~~4. Soldier~~

look I'm sorry, I love Soldier and he was gonna be tied with Pyro but that fucking puppy drawing sold me.

• absolute gold every second he speaks. he could sneeze and i'll laugh.

• such a dumbass you cant get annoyed at him for it. like. just agree with him and move on. no point reasoning with a boulder. "haha! silly Miss Pauling, thinking theres different types of blood." Medic: "haha yes! indeed, silly."

• HUTTAH *NECK SNAP*

• i'm not American and even i can see how blatantly his character mocks stereotypical Patriotic Americans™. but its so dumb and laughable, its adorable.

• EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH ZHANNA IS A BLESSING. EVERYTHING.

• the first "meet the Mercs" video i ever saw was "meet the Soldier" so he holds a special place in my heart

• (preaches about experiencing the horrors of war; has never actually been to war. shh dont tell anyone though--) *neck gets snapped*

~~5. Demoman~~

• I'm Scottish. even though his accent is absolute garbage (no offense to the VA), any representation is very nice.

• Black AND Scottish?? i mean has a character like that even existed before TF2??? amazing example of representation right there. there are barely even any black people in Scotland, how did this happen. I love it. more of this, please.

• he's a drunk guy who blows shit up for shits and giggles and god I wish I could too, sounds like a miracle stress-reliever.

• his sassy black scottish mother. combining the stereotypical black mother with the stereotypical scottish mother is literally the best thing that ever happened.

• the bit in the comic where Medic explains that Demo can't remember what happened to his eye bc he scooped out part of his brain, and the look on Demo's face. just. the look.

• again, he's scottish, he's stereotypical, and he's awesome.

~~6. Sniper~~

• underrated

• piss jars. piss jars everywhere.

• "no dad, im not a crazed murdering lunatic, I'm an assassin. ...well one's a job and the other's mental sickness!!"

• "meet the Sniper" has kickass music

• ruffled gross old man who isn't actually old, he's just seen some SHIT

• actually given development in the comics + some really good scenes with Spy.

• so suave...so...handsome. handsome ruffled bushman. me like.

• he dies first in the comics but gets brought back and gets a cool-ass scar. and then he's just walking around naked everywhere for the rest of the comic. Medic, where the fuck did you put his clothes.

• isn't actually Australian. thats like one of the biggest twists in the comic. "no wonder i was never inhumanly strong and my chest hair didn't grow into the shape of Australia!!" Classic.

• says "bugger" a lot and i love that word

• he needs a hug, let me hug him. and give him a bath.

~~7. Heavy~~

I'm gonna be crucified for putting the big lad so low but i promise i dont dislike any of the Mercs. he'd be higher up but...ive never really liked big huge tank-men tbh :/

• loveable as fuck

• will murder you if you bully his puny little Medic

• i looove Russian accents omfg

• he like big gun. i can respect that.

• when Medic was killed and he went APESHIT on Classic!Heavy and I lost my fuckin' mind over that shit

• he probably has a soft spot for small cute animals. i love imagining him being swarmed by Medics flock of doves and petting them like "good bird...so many good bird..."

• actually smarter than people give him credit for???

• i really really wish his character was a lil more fleshed out but. that's just me. i love him but he doesn't have the same appeal to me as Medic or Spy.

• his entire relationship with Medic...ugh. yes. best friends and/or boyfriends. all good to me 👌

• he named his gun Sasha and that's adorable

~~8. Engineer~~

• gOD, FUCK, I REALLY WISH HE DID MORE IN THE COMICS. i barely know anything about his character. i like him a lot but...god, he...he doesn't...do.....anything.......

• he built a cool robot arm for himself and AI turrets and teleporter machines and guns that fire magic healing powers and immortality machines, in the 1960s. what. some kind of wizard fuckery is this.

• smoothest voice in the west

• "y'all"

~~9. Scout~~

oh god i really am gonna be crucified. i dont hate him i just. like him the least.

• shitboy

• reminds me of a shitty ex but also kinda relateable in a way

• some genuinely funny bits in the shorts.

• gross horny hetero teen boy with a god complex and serious daddy issues. also, he can't read. the "sex bom" tattoo on his chest will be an eternal testament to that. nice job, Spy. you raised him good.

~~~

hoo boy there we go theres all the boys, all the beautiful boys (and Scout) in order of how much i love them. if i made any errors in my info about the canon, feel free to send me death threats 💙 (no seriously tell me though, being a newbie is embarrassing)

so uh. yeah. that took two hours to write. its now 8am. im still bored lol. bye i guess.

#long post #charlyspeaks #charlys cesspool of interests #team fortress 2 #team fortress #medic #pyro #heavy #engineer #scout #spy #demoman #sniper #soldier #zhenna #tf2 #drabble #my opinions #ooooo

30 notes · View notes

kpopreactionsforthekpopfans · 8 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction: You shared a bed with another man

Anonymous said:

Hey ~ BTS reaction when you slept in the same bed than another man at a party ? Like just because of the lack of bed and didn't do anything with him. Thanks ^-^

Thanks for the request! I’m sorry it took so long, but I hope you like it :)

*gifs are not mine, unless I say so*

Y/F/N= Your friend’s name

Jin:

Jin came home from the studio early in the morning, and he wanted to suprise you with breakfast in bed. He made your favorite breakfast, and took it to your room. When he opened the door, he saw you were still sleeping... with another man. He dropped the plate that was in his hands, which cause you to wake up. You looked at Jin while his ears started to turn red with anger.

“Jin, it’s not what it looks like. He was too drunk to drive home so I let him stay here an-” You tried to explain but he cut you off.

“But did you have to share a bed with him? No! He could have slept on the couch! I swear to god if he touched you-”

“Jin, calm down. Your yelling isn’t helping my headache.” You told him as you got up. The other man was still passed out on the bed. Apparently still affected by alcohol.

“Well whose fault is that? You did that to yourself.” Jin scolded you. You gave him a glare, and he started to feel bad.

“Ugh, sorry Y/N. You are just too nice to people sometimes.” He said as he pulled you into a hug.

“You should really clean up your mess.” You laughed a little, motionng to the plate.

(him after you told him to clean up his mess)

Suga:

Yoongi probably got drunk at the party aswell. He ended up falling asleep on the couch. You were one of the only ones that stayed sober, and you felt bad for your male friend because he couldn’t drive home. You offered him to sleep in your bed because there was no waking Yoongi up to get off of the couch. Once he is passed out, espically when drunk, he gets rude if you wake him up. You couldn’t sleep because Yoongi wasn’t at your side, your friend was. So you laid next to your friends and just stayed up on your phone.

It was 6am, and you were still awake. Yoongi finally woke up, and realized he was on the couch. He got up off of the couch and clutched his head from his headache. He stumbled to your room, and saw you were still awake.

“What the f- why is he in our bed?” Yoongi’s voice startled you and caused you to jump. He stared you down as he waited for an answer.

“I was going to have him sleep on the couch, but I didn’t want to wake you up.” You explained.

“Well he can sleep on the floor.” He said rudely and pulled him off of the bed.

“Yoongi, what the fuck- see this is why I didn’t wake you up. You get rude an-” You started to talk.

“Shh. Go to sleep.” He said while pulled you into his arms to cuddle. You were about to protest, but he already drifted back off to sleep.

J-Hope:

Hoseok was coming back home from tour, and all he could think about was cuddling you and finally getting a good sleep. He knew you were having a party, so he figured you were already tired and fell asleep already. When he got home, he quickly took a shower and then went to your bedroom. He saw the other man in the bed, and he saw you nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. You didn’t want to sleep close to the other man and you wanted to keep your distance. Hoseok knew you were too nice to make him sleep on the couch or floor, so he didn’t get mad. Although, he did feel a little jealous. Hoseok the the space between you and the man, so he laid between you guys and pulled you into his arms. The sudden contact woke you up, and you though your friend was trying to cuddle. So you quickly got up and started to scold him.

“Y/F/N I told you to stay on your side! I don’t see you anymore than a friend! I have a boyfriend already! Please don’t-”

“Y/N” Hoseok calmly said your name, “it’s me.”

You looked at him and started to feel embarrassed for your little meltdown.

“Oh sorry.” You said awkwardly.

Rap Monster: WARNING: Kind of smutty?

Namjoon has been in the studio all day, and all he could think about was you. He has been craving you all day, and he couldn’t wait to get home to fulfill his needs. He knew you were having a party, so he was hoping you wouldn’t get drunk. He always felt like he was taking advantage of you when you were drunk, so he would make himself wait until you sobered up. When he got home he called for you.

“Baby! I’m home!”

But you were asleep, and you didn’t know your male friend has crawled into bed with you. You were fast asleep as Y/F/N wrapped his around your waist. Namjoon walked into your bedroom and saw this. He felt angry inside, but he tried to stay calm on the outside. He walked over to your bed and grabed Y/F/N’s arm and pulled him off of you.

“I don’t know you the fuck you think you are, but you need to back off of my girlfriend. She’s drunk, isn’t she? Just because she’s clueless at the moment, doesn’t mean you have any right to sleep with you. Now call a cab, and go home.” Namjoon yelled. His yelling woke you up and you just looked at him.

“Baby, did he do anything to you?” He asked you after he got Y/F/N to leave.

“I don’t know. I was asleep. I don’t think so though.” You reasured him. He noticed that you weren’t complaining about a hangover like you usually do, and smirked.

“You’re sober? Thank god, I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

(him noticing that you aren’t drunk)

Jimin:

Jimin was practing the choreography for Bangtan’s new song, so he was excited to go home. He was hoping to watch a movie and cuddle with you. He didn’t know you were having a party, well it wasn’t really a party. It was just a few friends you invited over. It was really late and your friend, who is like a brother to you, was to tired to drive home. So, you let him share a bed with you. Jimin came home and went to your bedroom. As soon as he saw you sleeping next to another guy, he would grow furious. The rest of Bangtan had already said he gets scary when he’s mad, so be prepared for that.

“Y/N what the fuck! I come home expecitng to have a peacful night with you, but instead I see you with another man!” He yelled, waking you both up.

“Jimin, he’s just my friend.” You said while rubbing you eyes.

“Bullshit! How come I never met this friend? Huh?”

“Because you’re never home!” You yelled back, starting to get angry.

“Uh, I think I got enough sleep to drive now. Bye.” Y/F/N said awkwardly as he left. You and Jimin would fight a little longer, but he would realize he was overreacting and apologize.

(the face he made before he started to yell)

He and the rest of Bangtan got back to the dorms late because of a fanmeet. While they were away you invited a few friends over so you weren’t bored. They were all friends that Taehyung knew aswell. It was getting really late and you were tired. You let your male friend stay the night because he had trouble driving in the dark. You and him shared a bed, but you told him to keep his distance. Tae and the rest of the boys got home, and they were tild aswell. Tae saw you sleeping with Y/F/N. but he noticed that your weren’t that comfortable sharing your bed with him. So he gently picked you up bridal style and took you Jimin’s room. Jimin knew what Tae’s plan was, so he scooted over. Tae laid you on the other side of Jimin’s bed, and he laid in the middle of you both. He knew you were ok sharing a bed with him and Jimin because Jimin treats you like a little sister.

(him noticing you’re not comfortable)

Jungkook:

Jungkook was busy with interviews all day, so he was going to be home late. You were bored, so you invited a few friends over to watch movies and play games. After a while, it started to really late and a few of your friends had already left. One of your friends had passed on your bed. You were really tired so you decided to sleep next to him anyway. Jungkook finally got home from his busy day, and he just want to cuddle up next to you. He walk into your room and saw you sleeping with another man. He didn’t want to wake you up, so he slept on the couch. He planned to confront you in the morning.

When you woke up, you walked into the living room to see Jungkook on the couch. He glared at you and shook his head.

“Why were you sleeping with someone other than me, your boyfriend?” He asked and raised his eyebrows at you. You laughed at him in respose. Apparentley your for got to introduce him to Jungkook.

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny” He asked.

“Jungkook, Y/F/N is gay, trust me he didn’t do anything.”

“Oh..” He would laugh a little, and feel embarrassed.

468 notes · View notes