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trickphotography2 · 1 year
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D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 10
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader
Word count: 4.5k
Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.
18+, minors DNI
Chapter 9 | Master List | Ao3
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Chapter 10
I’m late.
The thought jolted you awake. It was still dark as you reached for your phone to check the time, knocking over the bottle of Tylenol in the process. After confirming that you still had ten minutes until your alarm went off, you collapsed onto the pillows. The room spun behind your closed eyes as you removed the now-dry washcloth from your forehead and pressed a palm against your temple. 
A low-grade headache had been plaguing you for the last few days, stubbornly not moving toward a migraine, so you couldn’t justify using your meds. As it was, you still had some nausea and had gotten sick at work the last two days. Thankfully, Jake was on mids - working from 4:00 PM until midnight since he was helping the Strike Fighter Weapons School Pacific with dog fight training  - and hadn’t been on base to make you go home. Your team was reviewing contract bids for a new plane towing machine and needed all hands on deck. You just had to make it through today and tomorrow, and then you’d have a long weekend to relax. Jake could go to the 4th of July party that Phoenix was hosting - you would sleep.
When the world righted itself, you slowly sat up and breathed through a wave of nausea. The pills rattled as you shook out two tablets from the bottle and swallowed them with a sip of water, glancing at Jake sleeping beside you. For the first few nights he’d been on mids, you’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home. With his schedule, you passed one another in the house without having actual time together. A few hours of uncomfortable dozing was worth the minutes you talked until he sent you to bed and watched TV to wind down for a couple of hours before passing out. Since your headache started, you’d gone to bed right after work. Other than exchanging texts, you hadn’t had a chance to really talk to him all week.
Slipping out of bed, you took your phone and headed towards the bathroom, turning off your alarm. You waited until the door was closed to flick on the light, not wanting to wake Jake up. Bracing your elbows on your knees while peeing, you hung your head and breathed through your nose and out your mouth, wishing that you’d taken the time to run back to your apartment to get your nausea meds after work yesterday, but you’d been so exhausted. 
The shower warmed as you brushed your teeth and tried not to gag. Deciding that you couldn’t handle the noisy blow dryer this morning, you tied back your hair and stepped under the hot water. Tilting your head back, you exhaled deeply as your muscles relaxed, keeping one hand on the wall when the heat made you lightheaded. 
The bed was empty when you crept out of the bathroom dressed for work, and you heard the gurgling of the coffee pot. Following the noise, you found Jake leaning against the counter, ankles crossed while scrolling on his phone, boxers slung low on his hips. His eyes were red with exhaustion when they lifted to meet yours, a sleepy smile crossing his lips as he set the phone down. “Mornin’,” he rasped.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No,” he lied, opening his arms as you drew close. You pressed your cheek to his sleep-warm chest, sinking into his comforting embrace. “You feelin’ any better?” His accent always came out more when he was tired.
“Not really,” you shrugged. His hand swept the length of your back as he kissed the top of your head. 
“You know, I learned something pretty interestin’ last night.” When you hummed, he chuckled. “Apparently, orgasms help with headaches.”
“I know.”
“You know?” he asked, pulling away to meet your gaze. “And you didn’t say anything?”
“It’s not exactly the first thing I think of when my head hurts. Besides, I have two perfectly good hands.” 
“Your boyfriend also has two perfectly good hands. And a mouth. And a dick.”
“And a work schedule that isn’t exactly conducive to a sex life.” 
“Darlin’, I’d happily give up an hour of sleep to help you feel better.” 
“How generous of you,” you chuckled. He pressed his lips to your forehead before kissing you. 
“You’re going to the doctor if you don’t feel better tomorrow.” 
“It’s just a headache.” 
“They shouldn’t last a week.” 
“Whatever, Dad,” you huffed. Jake lightly swatted your ass, a teasing smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
“Careful, baby - I might just start likin’ you calling me Daddy.” He kissed you again, lips a soft counterpoint to his rough stubble, before guiding your head back onto his shoulder. “Take the day off.” 
“I can’t. We’re almost done with the first run through the bids.” When a wave of nausea hit, you turned to press your forehead to his collarbone, fingers digging into his back as you breathed through it.
“Darlin’.” 
“I’m fine,” you said once it passed. Smiling weakly, you pulled away. “You should go back to bed.”
“Any chance you can join me? For medical reasons,” he added, brushing the hair from your face. 
“I’m gonna be late.” 
“Fine. But I’m serious - you’re going to the doctor tomorrow.” 
“Yes, Daddy.” Groaning, his head fell back against the cabinets as you stepped out of his arms and got your coffee ready.
The morning passed in a blur of documents as the team sat in the conference room. Cruz had picked up a box of donuts, and you’d nibble on a plain one while sipping your coffee. During a bathroom break, you’d grabbed another sports drink from the hanger break room, tossed two dollars into the jar, and added the ninth tally mark by your name. But as it got closer to lunchtime, half of the donut sat heavily in your stomach, and most of the coffee sat in front of you. 
“I’m heading to the food court if you want to join,” Cruz offered, pushing away from the conference table. 
“I’m in,” Woolsey agreed, as did Armitage and Gale. 
“I’m good,” you said. Lunch didn’t sound appealing, but a power nap in the car did. Once you’d tossed the donut and grabbed your thermos, you headed to your office to grab your keys. When you bent to retrieve your purse from the desk drawer, another wave of nausea hit. Groaning, you sat in your chair, dropping your head into your hands. Sweat dotted your brow as your ears started to ring. 
You stared, trying to figure out where you were and why you were looking at the ceiling tiles. Turning your head, you saw the bottom of a desk and realized you were on the office floor. Your ears rang louder, and you widened your eyes as the room spun. Your hand shook when you held it in front of your face. From the corner of your eye, you saw feet approaching and looked up to see Armitage’s shocked face. Her mouth moved, and you frowned. She crouched and pushed against your shoulder when you tried to sit up. “What happened?” you asked, sinking back onto the floor.
“Jesus Christ, are you alright?”
“I…I think I fainted.”
“Shit.” She turned to look out the office door but whipped around when you gagged. Pushing onto your elbow, you reached for the trashcan and vomited. “Damn it. Are you okay?” Draping your arm over the rim of the trashcan and resting your head on your forearm, you breathed through your mouth, trying to keep from fainting again. “You’re bleeding.” 
“What?” She was right. Your left foot had a deep scratch, and blood was dripping into your shoe - you’d caught it on your desk drawer. “Fuck.”
“You need to go to the hospital. I can drive you.” 
“No, I’m fine. I… I can go myself.”
“You can’t drive.” You groaned, knowing that she was right. But the idea of having your coworker take you to a hospital - and it would have to be off base - was too humiliating. You knew what you had to do. Armitage helped you into your chair, which had rolled across your office and hit the wall, before grabbing your phone. 
“Hey, darlin’. You on lunch?”
“Can you come to get me?”  
The Navy spent a lot of money training their pilots to be calm under pressure, which was the only way Hangman was able to drive to the Bounty Hunter hanger, and then across town to a civilian hospital. After escorting you into the ER and getting you settled into a chair with the paperwork, he parked the truck and hurried back inside. 
Other than when you stepped into the restroom, Jake never left you, keeping his arm draped over your shoulders. Tucked against his side, you kept your eyes closed as you told him what happened, his lips grazing your temple. Thankfully, your foot stopped bleeding as you waited the hour to go back to an exam room. You could tell he wasn’t happy they sent a medical student to take your history. Jake stood to the side, arms crossed and eyes following every movement.
“Your paperwork says you’ve had a headache for a few days. Is that common?”
“No. I have migraines, but they’re usually gone in a day or two.”
“Any stressors?”
“Other than work, not really.” He nodded again.
“Do you know what usually triggers your migraines?”
“Stress or my period.”
“Is your menstrual cycle normal?”
“Pretty much,” you shrugged. 
“And you said your last period was about a month ago?” You nodded. “The paperwork says that you were sitting before you fell. Were you sitting for a long time?” 
“Kind of. But I’d walked to my office.”
“When you fainted, did you hit your head?” You nodded. “Did you vomit afterward?” Nod. “Do you know how long you were unconscious?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He left after cleaning and bandaging your foot, and a few minutes later, you had your blood drawn and was hooked up for an EKG. Jake stepped out to call his CO and tell him he wouldn’t be at work that night, then slid his hand into yours as you closed your eyes and tried to stay calm. When the tests were done, you curled up on the bed and dozed with your head on his shoulder. 
Around 3:00 PM, the doctor finally came into the room with the med student and shook both of your hands before settling on the stool and tapping on her tablet. “So your labs look good. You’re a little dehydrated, but I’m not seeing any issues with your heart. I did want to ask a couple of follow-up questions. Have you had any sharp pain recently in your stomach, pelvis, or shoulder?” 
“No,” you frowned. 
“The lightheadedness - has it been consistent or just the one time?”
“I’ve felt a little light-headed off and on, but it goes away in a minute or so.” 
“Any irregular bleeding?” You shook your head. “Great. So it looks as though you experienced vasovagal syncope, which is when your blood pressure has a sudden drop. You mentioned that your periods trigger your headaches, and hormone fluctuations can trigger one.”
“So she’s okay?” Jake asked, squeezing your hand. The doctor smiled at him.
“Yes, she’s okay. I wanted to discuss some of the symptoms you were experiencing before the syncope. You mentioned being nauseous - was that just before the syncope?”
“No, it’s been a couple of days.”
“Have you vomited?” Nod. “Have you been keeping food down?”
“Not really. I’ve mostly been eating crackers the last couple of days.” You pointedly ignored the look Jake gave you. 
“Have you been more fatigued recently?” Brow furrowed, you nodded again. “How about any other physical symptoms?”
“Like?”
“Any tenderness in your breasts?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Jake answered, clearly thinking about how he’d brushed your nipples in the shower over the weekend and you’d threatened to punch him in the throat. You blushed. The med student snorted. The doctor met your gaze, the corners of her mouth twitching. 
“The labs show that your HCG levels are elevated, which probably triggered the vasovagal syncope.” Her eyes darted between you and Jake before she added, “HCG is what we look for to confirm a pregnancy.” 
The word echoed through the exam room. You froze, feeling Jake’s hand flex around yours. “P-pregnancy?” you stuttered.
“Yes,” the doctor looked between your stunned faces. “I would recommend setting up an appointment with your OB in the next couple of days to see how far along you are and to monitor your morning sickness. Right now, it’s unclear if your nausea is because of your headache or hyperemesis gravidarum, which is severe morning sickness. I’m a bit concerned about you being dehydrated, so make sure you’re taking in as much fluid as possible - water, sports drinks, soup, popsicles, whatever you can keep down. For food, go with the BRAT diet - bread, rice, applesauce, and toast. And I want you to try and eat a couple of small meals throughout the day. You want high carbs and protein with low fat.”
“I’m going to write you a prescription for something to help with the nausea. For the headache, again, hydrate and eat. You can take acetaminophen as needed. I want you to return to the ED or urgent care if you still can’t keep anything down, if you faint again, or if you feel any pain in your abdomen or shoulder. And make sure that you take your time when standing up - your blood volume increases during pregnancy, and your pressure can drop. Compression socks can help. Do you have any questions?” 
“I’m pregnant?” 
Her smile was soft when she nodded, “You’re pregnant.” 
“Darlin’, you awake?” Jake asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat. Your seat was tilted back, eyes closed behind sunglasses against the setting sun. It would be so easy to pretend you were sleeping, but you held out your hand and felt his palm slide against yours before the soft brush of his lips against your knuckles. “You feeling okay?”
“My head still hurts, I’m nauseous and exhausted, but other than that, I’m okay.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me it was that bad?” 
“It hasn’t been - this isn’t the first time I’ve had a headache last this long. I’ve only been dizzy a couple of times.” 
“That’s a couple of times too many.” When you tried to pull your hand away, he tightened his grip. “I’m gonna get you settled at home, then go to the store and pick up some stuff. You need to eat.” The thought of food turned your stomach, and you rolled your lips together, focusing on your breathing. He momentarily let go of your hand, and the air conditioner blasted, the cool air hitting your flushed skin. “Tell me if I need to pull over.” 
Thankfully, you made it back to the house. When Jake stopped to let the garage open, you threw open the door and rushed inside as he parked, barely making it to the guest bathroom to vomit bile. A minute later, he set a glass on the counter, pulled your hair away from your face, and rubbed soothing circles on your back. “I thought morning sickness was only in the morning,” you groaned. 
“Well, you’re an overachiever.” You let out a watery chuckle, sitting back on your heels and blowing your nose. He handed you the glass of water before leaning against the doorframe. Your hand shook when he pulled you to your feet, and his lips pressed into a thin line. As soon as you rinsed your mouth and washed the tears from your face, he lifted you off your feet and carried you into the bedroom. He left after setting you on the bed and telling you to get comfortable. 
Sighing, you stripped off your shirt and slacks and pulled one of his t-shirts from the dresser before retreating to the bathroom to brush your teeth and remove your makeup. He returned as you slipped under the covers, handing you an ice pack and setting one of his sports drinks on your bedside table. Carefully, he sat beside you, planting a hand on the bed by your hip as you placed the ice pack on the back of your neck. “You wanna talk about it?” 
“Not right now,” you sighed, blinking back tears. “I think I’m still in shock.”
“You and me both, darlin’. So much for it just being a headache.” Jake’s smile was soft, contradicting the tension in his shoulders, as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m gonna go to the store. You want anything in particular?” When you shook your head, he left.
Once you heard the rumble of the garage close, you turned onto your side and hugged your pillow. You and Jake had talked about kids before but hadn’t had strong feelings either way. When picturing your future, you thought about vacations and career advancement. You could see a kid or two, but that wasn’t the first thing you thought of. It wasn’t like your friends who always identified being a parent as something they had to have in their future. 
You’d decided to wait until after getting married to make the final decision. But it seemed like the universe was going to make you choose early.
The first tears fell as you slid your hand under Jake’s shirt and cradled your stomach. 
Jake walked around the grocery store in a daze, tossing items into the cart. 
Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his kid. 
He'd been scared when you called him to say you needed to go to the hospital. Not only because you were hurt but because he couldn’t take you to the nearest hospital - the one on base - but had to go to a civilian one. He’d already been mentally crafting his argument to push up getting married when the doctor dropped the bombshell.
Pregnant.
That word terrified him. He’d never pictured himself as a dad, even when his ex tried to convince him to have a kid. Jake knew he wouldn’t be a good one, especially if they had a boy, not with how he’d been raised. He didn’t want a kid to grow up hating him for doing a shitty job. 
But he couldn’t deny that his heart leapt when the doctor said you were having his child. 
Something soft crushed under his shoe. Jake stopped and stepped back, lifting his foot to see a small elephant stuffed animal with a pacifier attached to its trunk. Slowly, he scooped it off the floor while looking around the aisle to see if someone had dropped it. He spotted a guy in NWU camo pushing a cart with a car seat, turning left in front of him. After grabbing a jar of applesauce, he followed, speeding along the aisles to catch sight of him again.
Of course, he caught up with him on the aisle with all the baby stuff. “Hey, excuse me. Is this yours?” The man tossed a package of diapers in the cart before looking at him, raising an eyebrow. 
“Oh shit. Yeah, thanks, man,” he replied, closing the few steps to take it. “My wife would kill me if I came home without Wubbie - bedtime’s hard enough without his paci.” Jake fought the urge to raise an eyebrow but nodded. 
“No problem.” He glanced at the car seat and saw that the baby was wearing the man’s service hat and felt his lips twitch into a smile. With a nod, he pushed the cart away, unable to stop looking at the shelves as he walked. There were so many different types of diapers and wipes. And it was all expensive. His steps faltered, and he grimaced when he saw a straw-looking thing for literally sucking boogers out of a baby’s nose. 
“That thing is disgusting but a lifesaver,” the guy said, coming up behind Jake and seeing what he was looking at. He grabbed a bottle of baby lotion and tossed it into the cart. “You having your first kid?” 
“Uh,” Jake said, “yeah, I guess I am. How’d you know?” 
“You’ve got that freaked-out new dad look,” he chuckled, then glanced at Jake’s cart. “Plus, you’ve got a shit ton of stuff for morning sickness. My wife swore by these ginger candies they’ve got over in the pharmacy area.”
“Thanks, I’ll grab some.” 
“Congrats, man. You’re in for a fun time. And thanks again for the pacifier.” Jake stood there for a long moment before heading to the pharmacy. 
What he needed more than anything right now was to talk to someone and get his head on straight before going into the conversation with you. Having kids was supposed to be something you discussed in a couple of years, but not now. Not when he didn’t have time to really think about what it would mean to be a dad. His whole adult life had been focused on becoming the best naval aviator. Now that he’d accomplished that, he had time to breathe, enjoy being in a relationship, and get promoted to Lieutenant Commander. A baby would complicate that. 
Not that he didn’t like kids. Some other officers had them, and he liked them in theory. They were cute, and he knew any child the two of you made would be adorable. But they were a lot of work. And he didn't know how to be a father. His example growing up was everything that he didn’t want. Jake knew he could focus too much on his career and what he wanted to do, which was, unfortunately, similar to his dad. He could be mean and lose his temper when annoyed. 
As much as he wanted to call Coyote and talk about how much he was freaking out, he couldn’t. His best friend would tell him what he wanted to hear, but Jake wasn’t sure what that was. He needed someone who would give him an honest opinion without considering his feelings. 
And, thankfully, he had just the person for that.
The phone rang as he stopped in his driveway. Rather than reach for the remote to open the garage, he waited. 
“Hangman.”
“Am I going to be a shitty father?” The words were out before he could stop them.
There was silence for a long moment before Rooster groaned. “Jesus, Hangman. At least tell me that you knocked up your girlfriend and not - ”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jake snapped. “This was a dumb fuckin’ idea. Don’t tell anyone - ”
“Wait, wait. I’m sorry,” Rooster said quickly. “Don’t know why you didn’t call Coyote for this.” 
“Because he’s gonna tell me what I wanna hear. I need to know what the truth is.” 
“And I’m the guy to do that? The one in the squad who grew up without their dad and has Mav as a pseudo-parent?”
“The only thing you’ve never hesitated on is calling me on shit, Rooster.” 
“You’re an asshole.” 
“Exactly. So am I gonna be a shitty dad?” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose as the silence dragged on.
“You’re dangerous in the air, but when your team needs you, you’re there. You get the job done.”
He cleared his throat, “That almost sounds like a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.” Rooster sighed, “The fact that you’re worried about this means you’re not gonna be a shitty dad, Jake.” Hot tears sprang to his eyes as he let his head fall back, and he quickly brushed away the few that fell. After a long moment, Rooster cleared his throat. “So when’s she due?”
“No idea. Just found out a couple of hours ago.”
“Holy shit.” 
“Yeah.” The silence stretched again. “Thanks for… that. And could you not tell anyone about this? We’re…”
“Yeah, no, of course. And…uh… congrats, man.”  
“Thanks.” When the call disconnected, Jake folded his arms over the steering wheel and rested his head on his forearms. There was a tiny flicker of hope in his chest that he wouldn't be the worst father if one of his strongest critics believed in him. Hell, he was pretty sure all he needed to do was do the opposite of everything his own did. Sighing, he hit the garage opener and pulled the truck in before grabbing the bags from the backseat.
When he opened the door, he saw you standing in the kitchen, sipping a glass of water. You looked pale as the corners of your lips lifted in a tired smile. “Hi.”
“Hey, darlin’. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 
“I was, for a little while.”
“Were you sick again?” 
“Almost. How about you? How are you doing?”
“I’m not the one who ended up in the hospital today,” he replied, setting the bags on the counter and starting to unpack them, his back to you. Sighing, you set the glass down and crossed the kitchen to wrap your arms around him, head resting between his shoulders. 
“I’m sorry if I scared you.” `
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” 
“Are you as freaked out as I am?” When he huffed, you moved to lean your back against the counter beside him. His eyes met yours. “I know we said we’d have the kid conversation in a couple of years, but what’s your gut telling you?”
Jake’s gaze drifted down your body to land on your stomach. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before answering. “I think we can do this.”
“I think we can, too,” you said. “But do we want to?”
“Do you?” 
Your heart beat fast as you studied him, trying to figure out what his response would be. With a deep breath and tears stinging your eyes, you said, “I’m terrified but…kind of. You?”
Knowing that this moment would change everything, Jake swallowed hard and nodded. 
Your gasp echoed in the kitchen as you clapped your hands to your mouth. A slow grin spread across his lips as he turned to face you, gently tugging your hands away to wipe the tears on your cheeks. “Darlin’, are we having a baby?” 
“We’re having a baby,” you whispered. 
Jake’s kiss was soft, interrupted by his laugh as he tugged you close. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the quick thumping of his heart against your palm. “You know,” he said, “this means we’re gonna have to renegotiate the contract.” 
“Let’s focus on one life-changing thing at a time, please,” you groaned. 
“‘M gonna put a pretty little somethin’ right here a hell of a lot sooner,” he grinned, lifting your left hand and tapping your ring finger. 
“I hope you’ve been saving up, then.” 
“I can probably scrape something together.”
Little did you know that Jake had an engagement ring tucked into the back of his closet. 
He’d called your parents to ask for their blessing to marry you on the ship coming home from the uranium mission. 
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Author's Note: The way I STRUGGLED with this chapter. Given the story synopsis, you know the ultimate decision, but a surprise pregnancy when you're in your 30s is a moment to pause and reflect on what you want. And with Jake's daddy issues, I think he would struggle with the idea of being a good parent. Hopefully Rooster was able to set him straight!
Read Jake's POV of this chapter and Chapter 11
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lovelybunn · 2 years
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𔓕 ▒⃡ ‧ 𓐄 drunken heartache .
part two.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnext...
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprevious...
pairing: stan marsh & best friend!reader
synopsis: wendy left poor STAN MARSH for the official and final time, and he was devastated about it. depression hit him like a bus, until by some miracle, you showed up, and practically saved his life. a friend like you was just what stan had needed for quite a while, but what if he wanted more?
word count: 1.7k
warning(s): depression, of prns she/her, fem!reader, swearing, slight mentions of misogyny, jealousy, mutual pining, angst, blood, vomiting, alcoholism
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THE LOUD ringing of Stan's alarm clock rudely woke him from his slumber. The pounding ache against his temples caused Stan to groan, "I couldn't have drank that much..." Stan sluggishly sat up from his bed and checked his phone on the nightstand. 6:25. "Shit! I overslept!" He flew off his bed and rummaged through his drawers, picking out some jeans a t-shirt, disregarding whether any of it matched. Stan slid his shoes on and headed out the bedroom door, treading towards the bathroom.
It was locked, so Stan knocked twice. "What do you want, turd? I'm trying to poop here!" Shelly screamed from the other side. "TMI much?" Stan muttered. "Sis, can you please hurry up? I'm gonna be late to the bus." Shelly huffed in frustration. "No! It's not my fault that you slept through all twelve of your alarms. Maybe if you didn't laugh your guts out on the phone with that random girl last night, you wouldn't be so tired." Stan squeezed the bridge of his nose. The headache got worst with his irritation.
"Shelly, can you at least give me the toothpaste and my toothbrush? I promise I'll leave you alone if you do." Stan heard an agitated "Fine!" before both items were chucked at his face. "Thanks." He said halfheartedly, rushing downstairs to brush his teeth in the kitchen sink.
Stan squeezed out an excessive amount of paste onto his toothbrush. He turned on the tap and started scrubbing at a fast pace. His gums bled, but Stan could have cared less. His dad walked in from the living room, draped in nothing but his underwear and a robe, a steaming cup of coffee held delicately in his hands.
"Morning, son." Randy slurred, extremely relaxed. Stan raised his eyebrow in mild concern. "Morning, Dad. You sound pretty good this morning." Randy belched, then rested his arm on the counter. He took another huge swig of his coffee. "Mhm. I put some bourbon into my coffee this morning, best decision ever. Don't tell your mom, though." Stan's father hummed, Stan stared at him. "Dad, isn't coffee a stimulant? I don't think your supposed to mix drugs together." Randy scowled hard at Stan. "Oh, shut the fuck up, Stanley! You can't tell me what to do, that's my job!" Stan shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, his fingers tried to detangle the mess that was his hair.
Stan ran back upstairs to his room; midway, he face-planted straight into his mother. Sharon spun on her heels to face him. Stan looked down, face flushed with embarrassment. "Stanley? Honey, what are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be on the bus by now?" His body sunk deeper, his back slouched. "I slept in. I'm sorry." Sharon touched Stan's shoulder gently, which made him look back up at her. "It's okay, sweet-pea. Shelly told me about you and Wendy, that must've been hard on you. I'll take you to school, just hurry up and finish getting ready, I'd hate for you to miss the bus and be late for school." He thanked his mom for her hospitality did exactly what she told him to.
The moment Stan made it inside the school, he checked his phone. The clock read "7:04" but his battery percentage read "12%". Some of his notifications were of Kyle spam texting him wondering where he was with a few extra messages of Cartman being the usual dick he always is. He cleared all of them, casually walking toward their spot. The gang wasn't sitting there, but some familiar faces were.
Stan took out two painkillers and swallowed both down his throat dryly. "Hey, Craig, Tweek. Why is there basically no-one in here?" The couple exchanged a look Stan couldn't quite read; Craig replied. "Kyle and Eric are fighting outside." "It was stressing me out, so we decided to stay in here." Tweek added, his hands shook uncontrollablly. Craig stroked his boyfriends back in a comforting manner and nodded. "Yeah, you should should go stop them before it escalates any further." Stan stared at them with a look of pure worry stuck on his face. After a small moment he glanced away and treaded toward the outside exit.
Someone came walking through the door, but Stan shoved them out of the way to get closer to his friends. The person shoved him back and he turned around, ready to cuss someone out before he realized who it was. "Kenny? Dude, what are you doing? Aren't you gonna try and stop those two idiots?" Kenny flashed his teeth at Stan in response, pointing at the newly found injury. Two of his upper ones were loose and bleeding. Stan glared downward and shook his head. "Shit.." He glanced back up and questioned, "What happened, man?" Kenny sighed, licking off the excess blood off his gums. "I tried to pull Kyle away from Cartman, but he just elbowed me in the face. I was gonna go get a teacher to finally end all this, before you came along."
Stan rolled his eyes and pushed the door open to the grassy area of the school. A large circle of students crowded around Eric and Kyle, both of them pretty beaten up already. Cartman had an extremely dark black eye on his left lid while Kyle's nose kept spilling out nasty chunks of blood. Kenny dug his nails into Stan's arm. Stan side-eyed him. "What? Don't be a snitch Kenny. Just let me do what I need to do. I'll finish whatever the fuck is going on, I promise." Kenny loosened his grip and hissed in Stan's ear. "Fine. But trust me, Stan, it's not gonna work. They've been doing this shit since we got here." Stan yanked his arm away and pushed through the crowd, giving a dirty look to anyone who tried to get in his way.
As Stan inched closer into the middle of the circle, He stood on his tip-toes to see all that was going on. He shut his eyes as Kyle took a heavy blow against his ribs. He didn't think Cartman could fight, but after all these years, maybe he's taught himself to be better just to spite Kyle.
A guy in the crowd yelled a greeting Stan's way; he whipped his head toward them. "Hey Stan, my man! How's it like knowing your girlfriend broke up with you because-" Clyde started. Stan jerked at his collar and forced him to look up at him mid-sentence. "How the fuck do you know that? Who told you?" Stan ignored the surrounding stares as he pulled Clyde closer to his face, red hot with anger. "Kyle said it at the beginning of the fight." Clyde cowered, his hands shaking in fear up in the air as a sign of surrender. Stan scoffed and dropped Clyde, the poor jock falling miserably to the ground. Stan kicked the boy out of the way and marched further into the circle. It didn't take him long to make it to the very front, but when he did, the sight was devastating.
"Do you realize how absolutely fucked up that was? How could you do something like that to him? Do you even care? Or are you too much of a self-absorbed piece of shit?" Kyle spat; sweat dripped down his forehead. Cartman groaned in annoyance and ran his fat fingers through his hair. "Oh my god, you're still going on with that? If anything, I'm doing him a favor. You saw how controlling she was." Kyle shook his head back and forth in an antsy manner before screeching at the top of his lungs, "Controlling?!" Stan leaned into the crowd, he bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. "You're the biggest control freak out here, Cartman!" Kyle blew many reckless punches at Cartman. He desperately tried to block all of them, but the poor guy ended up even more bruised up than before. Kyle was trying to kill Cartman at this point. Stan couldn't bear to watch anymore.
Stan marched in between the two and pushed them off each other. The crowd screamed words that were unintelligible to Stan. "Stop!" Stan yelled, his stern voice echoing through the small outdoor space. Cartman and Kyle froze, dumbfounded. The people surrounding booed and criticized Stan for "ruining the fight". Luckily, the crowd died down due to the roaring of the homeroom bell, which caused most of them to scurry back into the building.
Stan sighed, exchanging a disappointed look across from Kyle and Cartman. "Guys.." Kyle reached over and touched Stan's shoulder, his thick ginger brows furrowed in distress. "Stan, I'm so sorry-" Cartman rudely interrupted him to add, "Yeah, you should be. How could you go through your own best friend's phone and pretend to be some random chick he used to know to convince his girlfriend that he was cheating on her?" Stan tilted his head at Kyle. His frown deepened. "What is he talking about?" Kyle grabbed Stan's hands and squeezed them tight in his own. "Don't listen to Cartman. He's the dickhead who did all that. He created fake texts and everything." Stan gulped down his spit deeply. Now he really wished that those pain killers worked emotionally too.
"So that's why she left me." Stan croaked. His fingers curled into a tight fist. "Oh come on, Stan! It was gonna happen eventually! At least she didn't let you down too hard!" Cartman exclaimed behind him, his hand patted at Stan's stiff back. "Shut up, fatass!" Kyle snapped. Stan slowly turned his head towards Cartman. "You've went too far. Just... leave." Cartman stared at Stan up and down before shrugging. He walked back in without a second thought.
The moment everyone else left as well, Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle, his fingers digging deep into the other boy's shirt sleeves. Stan buried his head into the crook of Kyle's neck. "God fucking damnnit..." Kyle patted Stan's back more gently than Cartman, "Dude, it's not your fault. Things will get better, I promise." Stan nodded, swallowing the vomit threatening to escape his throat. He coughed, "Who was she?"
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aelinschild · 11 months
Note
Trick, or treat?!
Gently - Drabble
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Thank you so much for the ask, and so I give you a treat!! :))) Here's a quick drabble I just wrote for this, so pardon if its not fantastic, but there will be another one-shot coming verrrrrry soon.
SYNOPSIS: After a long day, all Aelin needs to get done is her skincare. Thankfully Rowan is there to lend a helping hand. WORDCOUNT: 1k WARNINGS: None - just fluff
Main Masterlist
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After a long day at work, Aelin was looking forward tp the simple pleasure of washing the day off her face. Her routine, whether it be evening or morning, was her therapy. The gentle act of washing and preparing for bed was incredibly self-soothing, and she never failed to complete it each night.
Her steps up the stairs were heavy, like the weight of the week, but a few more moments, and then she’d be able to sleep the day away.
Entering her and Rowan’s shared bedroom, she founding him lounging on the bed. He had only his pyjama pants on, and a pair of reading glasses. This was their safe haven, and Rowan looked equally as comfortable as her bed. He was reading when she walked in, so at the sound of the door he looked up at her. I should just join him now…
“Hey love, all done for the night?” He whispers into the quiet of their room. Careful to not break the gentle atmosphere. 
Aelin just makes a hmph sound, letting her shoulders droop and releasing the built up tension in her neck. On light feet, with Rowan still staring lovingly, she walks over to the closet and shucks off her sweater and unbuttons her pants. Stepping out of them, then her underwear, she slips into a two piece silk pijama set. In no mood for anything sexy. 
Exiting her closet, Rowan’s attention was back on his book, though a small smile graced his face. 
Aelin needed to get her skincare done before she fell asleep on her feet, and so with one last longing look at her bed, she went to the bathroom.
Flicking the light on, their shared bathroom lit up. It was a humble room, and considering this was Aelin and Rowan’s first house together, it had what she wanted. Which was, of course, a bathtub. That was one thing she wouldnt compromise on.
As Aelin began to brush her teeth, she missed the sound off Rowan getting off their shared bed and approaching behind her. His strong hands wrapped around her middle. Caging her and and securing himself to her behind. 
He moulded his warm body to her, and while it was lovely to feel his strong torso and large thighs cage her closer to the sink, it made completing her routine much harder. He started peppering gentle kisses to her neck and by her ear. 
“Rowan…” Aelin murmurs, too tired for anything more. His hands just continue their gentle caresses before Aelin is abruptly spun around and lifted by the backs of her thighs. Rowan, now facing her, lifts Aelin onto the counter, gently setting her bottom down on the edge. His hands move from her thighs to her hips, down to her knees to spread her legs open wide enough that he can fit between them.
“Rowan.” Aelin says, a little stronger this time.
He just shushes her and smiles, eyes crinkling up. He leans in, and Aelin moves to what she thinks is a kiss, before he just delicately rests his forehead on hers. Staring into eachothers eyes with so much love. He then presses a chaste kiss to her lips, and steps back, still with his hands on her legs. A little breathless by the quick change, Aelin straightens up. 
“I though you were going to fall asleep on your feet over here,” he says gently. “So I've come to rescue you.” He turns and graps the cloth off the rack behind them, and leans around Aelin to soak it with warm water. 
Aelin’s a little starstruck, and a lot in love. Its not rare for the two of them to take turns taking care of eachother. These simple gestures are what strengthen their bond. The intimacy of each little moment, from washing eachothers hair to choosing an outfit for eachother, the little things that prove their unbreakable bond. 
“Okay, thank you.” Aelin hums out. Just letting Rowan take care of her, and basking in the moment. 
He lets the cloth warm up in the water, and in the meantime grab the micellar water and pours a little onto a cotton pad. When he deems it to have enough product, he turns back over to Aelin, now slouched on the counter with her eyes closed, and wipes the makeup off her face. It comes off easily, as most of it was removed hours later when she got home, just little bits remain. 
He tosses the now dirty cotton pad, and reaches for the warm cloth. Wiping off her face gently, careful not to irritate her skin, and then grabbing her evening cleanser. While Rowan had studied Aelin’s routine, wanting to know every little intricacy about the woman he adored, he was more than grateful for Aelins little quirk; leaving the bottle in order of use. Maybe for ease, or maybe for him, either way he knew which one was first. 
Rowan squeezed a few drops onto his hands to emulsify before lightly rubbing it onto Aelin’s face. She let out a delighted sigh, eyes still closed. Rubbing the cleanse in till it no longer made bubbles, he grabbed the cloth again to wipe it all off. 
Grabbing another cotton roll and dsqueezing out a few drops of her toner, he gently rubs that over her skin. Next is a serum, that he uses the dropper to put three drops directly on her face. Smoothing that on, he reaches for the moisturizer. Unscrewing the lid, and scooping out a little onto the back of his finger, he dots it all over her face before rubbing in the product. Its a little thicker, so it takes a moment, but Aelin doesnt move. Still in a tired trance, she just enjoys the intimacy of the moment. 
Rowan finishes off with some aquaphor on her lips, knowing shell be grateful for it in the morning. 
When he’s done, and admiring he good work, he rinses his hands off. Aelin, most likely asleep now, doesn't make any noises when he lifts her bridal style off the counter and carries her to bed. Feeling warm and happy, Rowan tucks the love of his life into her side of the bed, and then crawls into his side and reaches over to her. Aelin is still awake enough to curl herself around him, but soon both are drifting off to sleep, together.
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Thank you again for reading!! Interaction is always appreciated! Have a lovely day!
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corvidbones · 3 years
Text
I just think it should be a regular thing for martin to pick jon up and spin him in a silly little circle.
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Text
you’re my best friend ~ pete davidson
word count: 2002
request?: yes!
“pete friends to lovers”
description: in which two best friends get super sappy while drunk
pairing: pete davidson x female!reader
warnings: swearing, alcohol and weed usage
masterlist (one, two)
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You were already two glasses of wine deep when Pete showed up, two cases of beer in his hands. He had a look of excitement on his face, which slowly fell when he realized there was no one else in your apartment.
“Everyone else cancelled,” you answered his unasked question.
“Everyone?” Pete asked.
You nodded. “Prior commitments or just not wanting to come or some shit.”
Pete came over and plopped himself down on the couch next to you. The case of beer was at his feet and he popped it open, taking out a bottle and immediately chugging it. You looked at him in amusement as he did so. Once he was finished, you asked, “Aren’t they warm?”
“Room temperature,” he corrected.
“Isn’t that gross?”
“A little, but obviously I have to catch up with you so we can be on even playing fields all night.”
You smiled and poured yourself another glass of wine as Pete opened another beer and started to drink again.
Between the heavy amounts of alcohol and the joint that Pete had brought, the two of you had gotten fucked up in no time. At some point you couldn’t even get up off the couch for more drinks, or for water that you both knew you should be drinking. The hangover you were going to have the next day was going to be killer, but in the moment neither one of you really cared.
You were both laid back on the couch, legs intertwined as you laughed at something Pete had said. It probably wasn’t even that funny, but in your inebriated state, everything was hilarious.
“You’re, like, my bestest friend, Pete,” you slurred. “No one else even bothered the show up, but you did!”
“I’m sure everyone else had like...stuff happening,” Pete said. “Adult things like...I don’t know...kids and taxes.”
You retched at the thought. “Yeah, no, I’m good with not having those adult things to do. Having kids, while extremely cute, is also extremely exhausting. But I don’t think anyone would’ve shown. No one else really...hangs out with me anymore.”
You laid your head back so you were looking at the ceiling. You could feel a lump growing in your throat and didn’t want Pete to see if you started crying. You knew this sudden emotion was most likely caused by the alcohol and the weed, but you also knew it was something genuine, a concern you had deep down that you had never voiced to anyone before.
You could hear Pete move to sit up and immediately turned your head away so he couldn’t see your face, even though you knew that looked more suspicious than anything.
“Everyone is busy, (Y/N),” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sure they’ll be able to hang out soon enough.”
“They’re not too busy to miss out on work get togethers, or going out with one another.” You sighed. “I know people grow apart and that’s just what happens when you grow up, I just didn’t think it was going to be all of my friends growing up and drifting apart all at the one time.”
“What am I, chopped liver?”
You giggled and sat up. The room spun around you as you did so and it felt like your stomach lurched. You had to take a moment to steady yourself before focusing your attention on Pete.
“I told you, you’re my bestest friend,” you said.
Pete’s smile slowly faded as he looked at you. “(Y/N), don’t cry please.”
You had forgotten about your emotional moment entirely. You wiped your cheek to find a wet streak running from your eye to your chin. You looked away from Pete again, suddenly feeling ashamed by your needless emotions. You were glad that the two of you were so drunk in that moment and would likely forget all of this the next day.
Pete’s hand lightly touched your chin, lifting it so that you were looking at him again. You looked into his eyes as he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your other cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized how closely the two of you were sat together.
“I’ll always be here,” he assured you. “No matter how much we grow up or grow apart, I’ll always be one phone call away.”
You nodded, unable to get the words to unstick from your throat. You believed him, you knew he’d always be here.
The smell of beer and weed was strong as Pete leaned forward more, and normally you’d hate the smell combination. But you were too distracted by Pete’s eyes to notice, and a moment later you were too distracted by his lips on yours.
You had never viewed Pete as anything more than a friend before. You had grown up together. You were partners in crime since the first day you met in middle school. Your friends, and even your family, often made jokes that the two of you would end up together, but you both laughed it off. You were best friends, two peas in a pod, nothing more.
But now, with his lips moving against yours and his arms pulling you as close to him as you could get, you weren’t so sure. It could’ve been the drunken state the two of you were in, mixed with the emotions you were feeling just moments before. When the two of you sobered up the next day you may have not even remembered what happened, but in the moment you wanted all of him. You wanted his lips, his hands, his body, his heart, and you wanted to give him all of you in return.
His tongue brushed against your lips and you gladly let it in. It was wet and tasted like beer, so not the most romantic thing in the world, but it felt good in the moment. You felt like nothing could ruin what was happening, until your stomach lurched again.
You quickly pulled away from Pete and rushed to the bathroom. You didn’t even have time to kick the door closed behind you before you collapsed next to the toilet and threw up everything you had eaten and drank the past few hours. Pete followed closely behind you, pulling your hair back and gently rubbing your back. When you stopped throwing up for long enough, he got up to get you some water and made you drink it all before he did anything else.
“I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser,” he joked. You glared at him over your shoulder before throwing up again.
Once you felt steady enough, Pete helped you to your feet. You brushed your teeth and took a mouthful of mouthwash in order to get rid of the taste of vomit. Pete helped you to your bedroom, where he had another glass of water and an Aspirin waiting for you.
“You’ll need that in the morning,” he said. “I’ll let you get changed.”
“You’ll stay with me though, right?” you asked. Suddenly you hated the thought of Pete having to leave.
He smiled. “Of course I will. I just want to give you some privacy while you change. You’re not supposed to see a girl naked till, like, the third date.”
You smiled back at him, a fuzzy feeling building inside of you at the thought of actually going on a date with Pete.
You changed into a pair of comfy pajamas and downed the glass of water Pete had left for you. You ventured out of your room to the kitchen to pour up another glass. You found Pete putting the bottles of beer in the recycling container and putting your glass in the sink.
“Why aren’t you as fucked up as I am right now?” you questioned.
“I could always handle my booze better than you,” he teased. You scowled and stuck your tongue out at him. He chuckled and put an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
After some convincing, Pete agreed to join you in bed. At first he laid a respectable distance away from you, but you moved close to him and placed your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your hair as your eyes became too heavy to stay open.
“You’ll regret this in the morning,” he murmured. “Or forget it completely.”
“Maybe,” you said, “but let’s wait for the morning to decide that.”
~~~~~~
When you woke up the next morning you groaned in pain. Your head felt heavy and like it had been stabbed by multiple little needles. You opened your eyes but had to shut them again immediately, hissing at the pain that small action caused.
Why the fuck did I drink so much last night? you questioned as you braced yourself and opened your eyes again.
You found yourself alone in bed, which didn’t seem too unusual until you remembered that you hadn’t been alone when you fell asleep. Pete had been there, more specifically he had been cuddling you.
You’ll regret this in the morning, you recalled him saying before you drifted off to sleep. You wondered if he had left before you had the chance to decide how you felt about the events of the night before.
You popped two Aspirin pills into your mouth and swallows them with a mouthful of water. You pulled yourself out of bed and slowly walked out of your room, the only speed you could manage in this state. You were halfway to your kitchen when you realized you were smelling something; bacon. You wondered where the smell was coming from, and didn’t have to look far to get the answer.
Pete was stood by your stove, two plates full of eggs and toast already sat next to him. When he heard you enter, he turned and greeted you with a smile.
“Good morning sleeping beauty!” he said. His loud voice pierced your ears and you quickly covered them and groaned. He chuckled. “You poor thing, you’re gonna hate today.”
“I already do,” you said. “Is that for me?”
He looked down at the plate of breakfast. “One of them is, yeah. Do you think you can keep it down?”
“I can try.”
The two of you sat at your dining room table and began to eat. Although your stomach still didn’t feel right, the food was definitely soaking up whatever alcohol was left in your system and thus was making the splitting headache you had subside just a little bit.
There was an awkward silence looming over the two of you. Despite what you thought the night before, you could still remember every detail; the emotional conversation, the kiss, the cuddling, how you felt when the latter two things were happening. You knew Pete remembered because he certainly wasn’t as fucked up as you were.
“Do you regret it?” you found yourself suddenly asking.
Pete looked up from his breakfast, fake confusion on his face. “What do you mean?”
You gave him a look. “Pete, I remember last night. I remember what we did, and what you said before I fell asleep.”
He sighed, turning his attention back to his food. “I don’t know...do you regret it?”
“I don’t,” you admitted. “If anything, I...I feel whatever the opposite of regret is. The only thing I regret is getting so drunk I threw up after we kissed.”
He smiled. “Yeah, that’s not exactly great timing.”
You looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Finally, he looked up at you again and said, “I don’t regret it either.”
“So what do we do now?” you asked.
Pete thought for a moment before saying, “I take you out on a date, one where we’re both completely sober, and we decide if we really want to do this. How does that sound?”
You smiled brightly at him. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
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wearywinchester · 3 years
Text
Tempered Confessions
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: When you put yourself in danger on a hunt, it leads to more than you expected.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: angst, mild swearing, injuries, arguing, blood, fluff, kissing
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You heave a sigh as you walk behind Dean, the one who walked more than a few paces ahead of you with nothing but anger in his stride. You huff as you bring your hand up to your cheek, swiping your fingers across it before pulling your hand away to look at it, lips pursing at the dull crimson smearing on them. It was something you expected with the way the hunt went, with the way things went so far south it was a miracle you were still alive.
But, with another sigh, you wipe your hand on your dirtied jeans and walk after the angry Winchester as he stormed through the back door of the deserted house.
He was more than a little angry, you could see it by the tension sitting heavy in his shoulders and the white knuckled grip he had on the rifle in his hand. With the way his footfalls could be heard from quite a ways away and the way he didn’t wait for you to catch up, didn’t say a word. Perhaps the most telling thing about his mood was the pale crimson staining his cheeks, nothing more than a blush to anyone else but you knew exactly what it meant and just how frustrated he’d been to flush.
He snagged his duffel bag from the floor, sitting it down on the nearby table as he looked through it briefly in case he’d left anything behind, zipping it up roughly without so much as a second glance in your direction.
You rolled your eyes at the way he was acting, your own anger building the more things went on like this. You hated it more than anything—hated the lack of communication after something goes wrong on a hunt, more specifically when something happens to you. He shuts down and stays quiet, he stomps around, having that crease between his brows.
You’d had enough.
“Dean,” you say as you follow after him through the mangled debris of broken furniture and out of the splintered front door. He had yet to say anything to you, continuing down the steps of the dilapidated porch and down the overgrown walkway towards the Impala. “Dean.”
Nothing.
You knew for a fact that he’d heard you even the first time you’d said his name, but he made no effort to show it nor give you any form of acknowledgment, tossing the rifle in the trunk without a care of where it landed. His duffel bag was next, the stuff inside of it having clattered together under the nonchalant throw of it. You could see the anger expressed clearly on his face, jaw tense and nostrils flared as he dug around in search of something he hadn’t entirely been sure of what it was he was looking for.
“Dean!” You say louder this time, his narrowed gaze snapping to you with nothing but frustration filling it. You had his attention now, full and unwavering, your heart pounding in your chest. “Will you please talk to me?”
His lips purse and brows furrow deeper as he nods, tongue darting out to swipe over them.
“What would you like to talk about, Y/n? How you walked in there, guns blazing by yourself, or how you nearly got yourself killed?” He said, voice loud and tone angry as he slammed his trunk closed. When he looked at you, your expression matched the one he wore, and he could see the way you bit the inside of your cheek. “So tell me, which of those things would you like to talk about ‘cause I got plenty to say.”
“Sure seems like it.” You could see his distaste for your words, his eyes rolling as he digs around in his pocket for his keys. You shift on your feet, breathing out a huff as you squint up at him and tilt your head to the side. “I had it handled.”
He laughed then, humorless as he looked away and shook his head, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. You knew he was dangerously close to snapping, more than he already did, but even then you couldn’t find it in yourself to tread lightly. Your own anger was seeping out and boiling over the edge.
“Handled?” He says, his tone displaying his surprise as if that’d been the most ridiculous thing you’d ever spoken in your entire life. “If I didn’t get there when I did you’d be just as dead as the thing that killed you.”
“Yet I’m still standing here, Dean. I’m not dead ‘cause I had it handled like I do every other hunt we go on.”
He chuckles again, wetting his lips once more as he nods.
“Is that what you tell yourself? ‘Cause right now you’re standing here with blood runnin’ down your face and who knows where else. ‘Had it handled,’ my ass. Because that back there,” he says, pointing back towards the house as the keys dangled from around his finger. “That’s what happens when you don’t pay attention. You get hurt.”
Your gaze narrows as you look up at him, your temper flaring as you stand there. “Is this your way of trying to scare me off of hunting, Dean? This big, tough guy attitude you’ve got, the one you always have whenever something goes wrong, whenever I get hurt. This attitude, is that what you’re trying to do here?”
“Seems like I’m doin’ one hell of a bang up job then, aren’t I?” He counters, those dimples by the corners of his mouth appearing as his brows raise.
“Why does it bother you so much?” You say, watching as they fall back down to a narrowing gaze. “If I’m so terrible at what I do, I’ll find my own way.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous, Dean.”
“Yeah, you are. Those words never left my mouth, Y/n,” he says, jaw clenching tightly.
“They might as well have. You made that much clear by this hunt and all the other ones before this.”
You knew with every back and forth banter leaving your lips that anger simmering between the two of you was bound to intensify, was bound to boil over until one of you says something you might regret. But in the heat of the moment, you can’t find it in yourself to care about that because that’s how things worked in moments like this. There was arguing and glares, there were eye rolls and huffs and tense jaws. There was a certain emotion behind it that set itself apart from anger entirely.
“I’m not gonna stand here and argue about this all evening,” he says, pulling his gaze from you as he brushes by to get to the driver’s side door.
“No, I wanna know. Why does it bother you so much?”
You watch as he stills in his stride, back to you. You watch as his fists clench and unclench. You watched as his hand came up in what you assumed was to drag down his jaw in a way he always did when he was angry.
He spun around on his heel then, jaw tense as he took a step towards you.
“You wanna know why it bothers me so much?” He asks, cheeks still tinged pink. It was a question not meant to be answered, not with the words spilling from his lips soon after. “It bothers me so much because I care about you. Not in some stupid fake way, not because I’m obligated to. I care because I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Your squinted gaze and furrowed brows soften at his words, smoothing out as your arms drop to your sides in disbelief. You stand there quietly, you blink once, twice. To say you felt your ears had failed you in that moment was an understatement, because in the seemingly millions of times you’d run that over in your head in the seconds that passed, you don’t think it was possible that you did.
“You what?”
He looks to his side then, his laugh bitter as he shakes his head, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for just a moment. “You know what, forget it.”
“But Dean—”
“I said forget it, alright?” He says a bit louder, tugging open the driver’s side door. “Just get in the car. We’ll head out in the morning.”
The engine roared before you could get out another word, mouth closing as you bit the inside of your cheek, rounding the back end before getting in the passenger side. He sat there for a moment or two, his gaze lingering on you for something, anything. Meanwhile, the emotions were running wild as they flickered through your mind, your stomach fluttering and twisting in on itself as you thought over his words. Then his gaze shifted ahead, jaw tense as he turned up the radio, hightailing it out of there towards the motel.
The ride back was every bit the way you’d expected it to be, the tension so thick you almost couldn’t bear it as you sat and looked out the window the entire time. The entire time save for a few glances spared in the direction of the green eyed Winchester who stared straight ahead. Each and every time, you could see the way his jaw moved with the way his teeth clenched, and each and every time you looked away before he could see you staring. But every one of those times he felt it.
You got out of the car without a word, having snagged the motel key from his pocket at one point or another. A huff leaves his lips upon that realization, head shaking as you walked not that far behind you as you stuck the key in the door.
“Well aren’t you in a hurry,” he says under his breath, loud enough for you to hear and loud enough for you to bite your lip over it.
You shrugged off your jacket and tossed it on the bed you’d claimed when you first got there, brushing past him to head straight towards the bathroom. You didn’t see the way his gaze followed you, the way his tongue poked the inside of your cheek in a frustrated habit.
You grabbed the towel from where it hung on it’s hook, dampening it at the sink. It wasn’t until then that you realized just how bad that cut on your face looked. Maybe it was just the blood worsening the way it was, smeared and smudged from the amount of times you’d wiped your face. Maybe it really was bad, but you didn’t put much thought into it as you brought the towel to your cheek. Didn’t have much time to think about it.
“What are you doing?” He asked, rid of his jacket as he stood in the doorway.
“What’s it look like?” You ask as you continue to wipe at your face, wincing when you press too hard.
He rolls his eyes, stepping into the room some more.
“Gimme that,” he says, reaching for the towel.
“I can handle it myself, Dean,” you counter, turning away from him. Your tone was sharp as he continued to stand there, the effort to ignore him becoming harder and harder.
“I wasn’t asking,” he said, swiping the towel from your hand. You looked up at him with a narrowed stare, his expression unwavering and you knew you’d be better off giving up this argument. “You hate doing this.”
You held your stare up at him for a few moments, lips pursed as he returned your stare with ease. Heaving a sigh, you rolled your eyes, hopping up on the counter. A quiet chuckle left his lips as he shook his head, digging through the cupboard under the sink and pulling out the small, half-stocked first aid kit the motel had.
His attention returned back on you as you sat there, head turned away from him before you felt his hand grasping your chin in a gentle grip, redirecting your gaze. The look on his face was anything but thrilled as he swiped the dampened towel over your cheek, wiping away smudges of blood that surrounded the ever obvious cut adorning your cheek. It was one that could’ve been worse, one that was worse than his liking as he worked his way around it, and he could see the dark hues of purple blossoming under your skin.
He felt that same anger pulse through him at the sight, his jaw tightening and he loosened the already lax grip he had on your face in fear that maybe he’d forgotten in his frustration and held your face a bit too tightly, but it wasn’t something you noticed.
Well, you had noticed, you were very aware of the way he held your face, and the way your heart picked up it’s pace.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, brows furrowing as you look up at him.
“Like what?” You tilt your head and give him a knowing look, one half filled with annoyance. He exhaled heavily through his nose, dropping the towel to the counter in favor rooting through the bandages he had a very limited variety of options for. Despite that, he still took his time. “‘Cause you could’ve prevented that nasty cut you got on your face. Was a little reckless if you ask me.”
You huff once more as you fight the urge to groan, shaking your head.
“Well it’s over and done with now,” you say, watching as he nods and lets out another quiet chuckle. “And I didn’t ask you.”
“You’re something else, but I’m sure you already knew that.”
You stifle your scoff as your teeth sink into your lip for a moment, watching as he finds just what he’d looking for in that tiny little kit, snapping the lid closed and tossing it back in the cupboard under the sink.
“I’m not really in the mood to argue again, Dean.”
“‘M not arguing. Are you arguing?” He asks, a look of faux confusion crossing his face.
You look away, rolling your eyes for the millionth time that day as you bite the inside of your cheek despite the tenderness sitting on the outside of it. You felt the breath of his sigh on your other cheek, his hand on your face once more as he turned your head to face him again.
“Can’t patch you up when you keep looking away,” he mumbles, lips pursed as his hand drops to rip open the wrappers to the closure strips he’d managed to find in there.
“Didn’t ask you to,” you say.
“Yeah, you told me that already.”
He peeled back the covers from the adhesive, his gaze returning to you. The closeness between the two of you has been becoming increasingly obvious to you, and the way his hand settles on your cheek becomes something you can’t push out of your mind no matter how hard you try to think of something else. It’s calloused and warm as his palm presses to your jaw, his thumb reaching across and pressing to the other corner of your mouth to hold you still as he puts each and every one of those strips on.
It’s then that your mind wanders to the words he’d spoken nearly an hour earlier, spoken from his lips in the heat of the moment and sticking permanently on the forefront of your mind. The very words that never once left his mind since the moment they spilled from his lips, playing over and over in a taunting loop that he doesn’t know if it’ll ever end.
You’re aware of the concentration he’s got on your cheek, on doing his best not to hurt you any further, his brows furrowed in complete and utter focus as he works. You’re aware of the way his breath fans across your lips, warm and feather light as it sweeps over them and you wonder if he’s thinking about it just as much as you were despite the fact that you probably shouldn’t.
He was.
You don’t know the exact moment he finished or if he even was, and perhaps it was because you were too caught up in the fact that you were looking at his lips for a precarious amount of time. Thinking about the fact that his hand didn’t fall from your face like it probably should have.
His gaze was a few fractions softer as it met yours, flickering down to your lips for the briefest of moments. His mouth falls closed from having his lips parted, swallowing thickly as he clears his throat softly, jaw tensing in that moment.
He doesn’t know what it is about you that’s got him in such a hold, and maybe it’s everything. It is everything, and that’s the problem. The problem is that you’ve got him so tightly held in your grip and you don’t even know it, so much so he made the biggest fool of himself in his display of emotion earlier, in the way he let those words tumble from his lips when he swore to himself he wouldn’t. He made a terrible fool of himself, but he finds in that moment that he might just want to do it again.
“You’re—your uh,” he starts, finding it harder to gather his thoughts in the closeness you found yourselves in as his nose bumps against yours. His eyes look downward for a moment. Your cheek, he wanted to tell you you’re good to go.
But at one point or another he felt his lips brush against yours, soft and electrifying and he’s not quite sure when the two of you had gotten that close, but he knows good and well that he doesn’t mind it.
In a matter of a second or two your lips press to his in more than just a whisper of a kiss, still soft and hesitant before you pull away. You’re close, close enough to meet his gaze in that moment as the two of you think over the very kiss you’d just shared not ten seconds before.
It’s a gaze that’s brief before he dips down and kisses you once more, his lips soft and warm as they press against yours in a kiss that’s never felt so good to you before. It had you questioning every cliche in every movie you’d ever watched, questioning if there was truth to the overused sparks flying and you felt you knew for a fact there was.
Your cheeks burned under his touch as his lips melded with your own, a kiss so blinding your heart nearly pounds right out of your chest as the heat of your breath mingles with one another’s.
He reluctantly finds himself pulling away, kissing you once, twice more in a way that ignites a warmth to blossom in your chest entirely unlike the heat of the anger you felt a mere hour ago. It was different, different in the way you felt the truth behind those words he’d spoken. Not that you doubted their meaning for a second, but now you knew with all of the certainty in the world.
He swallowed thickly once more as his tongue swipes across his lips, kiss swollen and pink as the beginnings of a smile tug at the very corner of his mouth. The pad of his thumb brushes over yours, to the very corner and over the heated skin of your cheek.
“I uh…” he starts once more, all efforts of knowing just what it is he was going to say having disappeared from his mind, from the very tip of his tongue.
“I know,” you murmur, your finger sitting just under his chin as your thumb presses to the dimple within it. You know he cares about you, and you know he loves you. You know that. “Me too.”
The softness of his smile remains as you pinch his chin lightly, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as you press a kiss on his lips, one he finds far too enchanting to want to break from just yet. He doesn’t care that the first kiss he’s ever shared with you is in some mediocre motel bathroom with dodgy lighting, he doesn’t care that it’s not the most romantic thing like you see in the movies—he’s not that kind of guy. He just might have a soft spot for it deep down, but he feels he’s made a fool of himself enough for one day.
What he cares about is you.
Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath
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blu-joons · 4 years
Text
When You Fall Asleep With Your Makeup Still On ~ Stray Kids Reaction
Chan:
He knew as soon as he saw you fast asleep with your makeup that he had to take it off, you always hated waking up with it still on. He grabbed one of your makeup wipes before moving over to your side of the bed, kneeling beside you.
“Please don’t wake up,” he pleaded, beginning to wipe the makeup away from your cheeks and chin, without so much as a stir.
Once that was done however, he knew he still had all of your eye makeup to take off which wouldn’t quite be so easy. He pulled out another wipe and began to wipe at your eye that was further from your pillow, removing the makeup quite easily.
Yet as he began to work on your other eye, your body slowly stirred and your sleepy eyes opened, smiling softly at his face in front of you. “Go back to sleep, I’m just taking your makeup off,” he whispered.
“You’re too good to me,” you hummed, leaving the eye he was removing the makeup from open, quickly closing it once the makeup was removed.
Chan disposed of the wipes before moving across to tuck you back under the duvet properly. “You’ll thank me in the morning for doing this,” he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
Minho:
Sleep wasn’t always your friend, so when Minho saw you’d fallen asleep in your makeup he knew there was no chance he was going to be able to take it off, but you’d hate him more if he managed to wake you from his sleep.
“I’ll make a note,” he whispered to himself, glancing between you and the door out into your office, silently debating with himself.
He knew he’d at least be able to attempt to take your makeup off, but he wasn’t willing to run the risk of disturbing you. Eventually he made the decision to grab some paper and a pen from your office to remind you in the morning.
He quickly scribbled down a note and placed it underneath your phone before walking into the bathroom and leaving your makeup remover and cleanser out beside the sink just in case you missed his note in the morning.
“Please don’t hate me for not taking it off,” he chuckled as he slid into the bed beside you, brushing his hand gently against your cheek.
Seeing you sleep so peacefully warmed his heart, as he knew waking you up was never going to be the right thing to do. His eyes closed, feeling your body stir, instinctively tucking into his side.
Changbin:
He was just about to close his eyes when he glanced across and noticed your makeup was still on. As much as he wanted to pretend to ignore it, he knew he couldn’t, and he knew he’d be in trouble with you too if he did.
“You’re lucky I spotted this,” he chuckled, getting back out of the bed, and walking into the bathroom to grab your packet of makeup wipes.
He carefully wrapped his hands around your wrist to pull them away from your face so he could get in to wipe your makeup off. Each time he moved made his body tense up out of fear that he’d end up disturbing you.
He thought he’d got away with it, but as he stood up to put everything back, his hip barged into your bedside table which made you jump. Changbin quickly spun around to comfort you before you began to panic.
“It was just me,” he sighed, following your gaze down to the makeup wipes in his hand. “It’s your fault I banged my hip for making me take your makeup off.”
Your eyes rolled, “I didn’t tell you to take my makeup off,” you innocently protested, “but if you hadn’t taken it off I would have definitely got revenge on you for not taking it off for me.”
Hyunjin:
He felt his heart soften when he found you laid in the middle of the bed with your makeup still on. He quickly grabbed the packet from your side of the bed before sitting down on the bed too, carefully moving you to the side.
“It’s just me,” he whispered, cautiously moving your body so that you were laying in between his legs, resting a pillow underneath your head.
His hands began to wipe underneath your cheeks, smiling at the rosy glow that emerged, making sure he covered every last inch of your skin with a wipe. He was gentle with every touch, praying that you wouldn’t wake up.
Hyunjin thought he’d got away with it, until he glossed over your lips, the tickle of the wipe making you stir. “It’s just me,” he repeated, but your eyes had already opened to see him leaning above you.
“Why am I here?” You chuckled, as everything soon pieced together as he held up the makeup wipes. “You didn’t need to do that for me you know.”
His shoulders shrugged, “I quite enjoyed it if I’m honest,” he admitted, “plus I knew you’d kill me if I let you go to sleep with your makeup on,” he added, as your head nodded in agreement.
Jisung:
A loud roar of laughter escaped from him as he saw you laid out on the bed with a makeup wipe in your hand. You were fast asleep, with half a face of makeup taking off, much to Jisung’s enjoyment and amusement.
“You are absolutely adorable,” he chuckled, quickly pulling out his phone and taking a quick photo, never knowing when he’d been able to use it to his advantage.
Once he’d got over the initial amusement of seeing you, he took the makeup wipe out of your hand feeling at how dry it was. He threw it into the bin before finding the packet in the bathroom and pulling out another one.
Before he began to remove your makeup, he shifted your body so that you were laying in a more comfortable position, wiping carefully at the parts that he could, whilst also going over the parts that you’d sleepily wiped at.
“Jisung,” your voice whispered when you felt the sensation go away, “is that you,” you murmured, far too tired to attempt to open your eyes.
He chuckled once again, getting rid of the other makeup wipe too. “It’s alright, I just thought I’d finish the job you started in taking your makeup off,” he teased, “I’ll show you the state you were in tomorrow.”
Felix:
His arm gently shook your arm to try and wake you up, despite several groans and frowns, your eyes slowly opened and noticed that Felix had finally arrived home. He hated waking it, but he knew that it needed to be done.
“You need to take your makeup off,” he whispered, watching as your eyes rolled and you began to sit up. “It’s alright, I’ve got it.”
You smiled up at him as he revealed a makeup wipe from behind his back, sitting down so he was at the same level you were. His hand held your chin in position as he carefully wiped away your makeup, trying not to wake you any further.
Whilst you were still very aware of what Felix was doing, with every touch of your face he was cautious and delicate as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. Once he was done, you felt a blanket lay over your body.
“Are you not going to bed?” You asked, gripping tightly onto the end of the blanket. Before your question could be answered, you felt Felix lay behind you.
His arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close, “I thought we could just go to sleep here tonight, you’ve already been disturbed once tonight, I don’t want to disturb you again.”
Seungmin:
His teeth bit down on his bottom lip as your hand came up and swatted away whatever it was that was tickling your cheek. He continued to wipe away at your cheek, trying to get the worst of your makeup off for you.
“It’s alright,” he comfortingly whispered, trying to lull you back to sleep, but yet again your body stirred at the light touch.
He knew it was only a matter of time before you inevitably woke up, continuing as best as he could. He’d removed the majority of your makeup, but just as he went to wipe away at your forehead, your eyes fluttered open.
Seungmin’s smile softly grew as he met your eyes, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, continuing to wipe away at your forehead. “I just thought you’d want your makeup off for the morning, it’s one less thing for you to worry about.”
“You don’t need to apologise,” you replied, closing your eyes in relief as to what was disturbing you, “I appreciate that you’re doing this for me Seungmin.”
He felt a lot better knowing he had your permission to carry on, continuing to clear your makeup until every last bit was removed. “Now I can sleep,” he chuckled, throwing the wipes aside and laying down.
Jeongin:
He knew it was a brave move to even attempt to take your makeup off when you slept, you had your set routine of how you liked to do things, a routine so strict even Jeongin was yet to fully memorise what you did.
“What do I do,” he sighed, knowing full well the impacts it would have on your skin if you slept in your makeup for the whole night.
He cautiously slipped out of the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom, opening up the cabinet to look through all the products he could use. He thought he was doing well until he reached up to grab one of the bottles, knocking the rest off the shelf and sending them clattering.
He shot into the bedroom, frowning as he saw you staring wide eyed back at him. “What’s going on?” You questioned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes when you noticed the prints of black mascara on both your hands.
“I was trying to find a way to take your makeup off,” he sighed, picking up the fallen bottles, “but there’s so much stuff here I didn’t know what to use.”
Your head shook, “I’ll worry about it in the morning, thank you for making the effort though,” you smiled, encouraging him to come back to bed, and worry about all the mess for a new day tomorrow.
---
Masterlist
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sirisuorionblack · 3 years
Text
The doctor (part 3)
Cedric Diggory x Reader
Summary - When a 25-year-old single father Cedric Diggory was woken up by his daughter to get shots he knew something was going to happen but not in the slightest bit did he know he was going to find new love. (Muggle AU)
Warnings - none
A/N Ahhh I am soooo sorry! I'm updating this is series after ages because my interest shifted from Cedric but its back! So have these! Sorry once again!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
You were indeed anxious for what might be the result of the hearing and that alone made it difficult for you to sleep that night. After tossing around in the bed trying to find a comfortable spot for you to fall asleep, you gave up the attempt and made a good decision in opening the psychology textbook that you have read over and over again for years.
Your eyes were blankly staring at the words that made no sense in your mind, the thoughts of the hearing leaving no space for it. You knew how much it meant to Charlotte and Cedric and you could only hope for Cedric to get his daughter’s custody.
It was wonderful seeing Cedric with his little girl. You watched as he held her in his arms, looking at her as though he would bring the stars down for her. You had also seen her mother in a situation that made you simply despise her. How could she leave such an angel in the care of a man who loved her so dearly and hope for them to be a family? And then fight for custody of the very daughter she left after years? It would always bewilder you.
Charlotte was indeed such an angel, and you could see how much she adored you that immediately felt a surge of protectiveness washing over you when you were with her.
You didn’t know when sleep had overtaken you but the next thing you remember was someone shaking your shoulder.
You blinked your eyes to clear the sleep out of them and the first thing you saw was Cedric’s sparking grey eyes, smilingly in hurry although never failing to captivate you. He stopped fretting for a moment before shaking his head and whispered, “I have to leave now. Is it alright for you to take care of Charlotte today, right?” 
“You're leaving already?” You checked the time on your phone and it was 4 in the morning. 
“Yeah, you will be able to be alone with her, right?” Cedric asked, concerned. 
You nodded, “Yep,” you managed to stand up straight and followed him outside your room. Cedric grabbed a cereal bar from the kitchen counter on his way to this door. 
Before leaving he turned around, looking at you unsure, “If you don’t mind can you be in her room? There is a couch in the room. I'm sorry but she is afraid to-”
”Cedric,” you chuckled, “I will be with her, don’t worry. She's in safe hands,” 
He breathed of relief and looked at you for a second standing there awkwardly. You took a deep breath and pulled him in for a quick hug, not providing Cedric enough time to sink in the comfort of your arms, and think of dropping all his plans. 
“Your gonna rock it, I promise,” You smiled at him and patted his arm. Cedric looked relieved when he stepped out of the door and took a deep breath. He dreaded the day. 
You sighed and closed the door after him. Dragging your feet to the kitchen, you gulped down a glass of water. It was all a mess beyond any ability of comprehension in the sleepy state of your mind. Blindly complying with what was told, you left to Charlotte's room, silently. 
Smiling at the elegantly placed pillow and blanket on the couch, you glanced at a fast asleep Charlotte, and allowed the sleep to take over you once again.
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"(Y/N)?" For the second that day, you had shot up in alarm, only to recognise a similar pair of shining grey eyes and relax.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” You sat up and asked with a hoarse voice. She whimpered and looked at her hands. You noticed how her breathing rate quickened and her bottom lip wobbled and you didn’t need to be a detective to know what had happened.
“Come here, honey,” You opened you arms as an invitation for her to climb onto your lap which she did without an ounce of hesitation.
“Its alright, darling, I’m right her with you,” you said and patted her back. You rocked the two of you slightly and tried to calm her down.
“I love you,” you heard her whisper and felt your breath get caught in your lungs. You blinked twice and slowly let out a breathy chuckle.
“What did you say? Charlotte? Darling? You asleep, already?” you said but received no response in return.
You sighed and mumbled an “I love you too,” back and leaned against the couch. Rubbing circles in the small of her back and you were certain you would not be able to sleep any longer.
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Charlotte had laid in your arms till noon and prevented you from doing almost anything. Unable to control you’re bladder anymore, you laid her on the bed and quickly left to the restroom.
When you returned to the bedroom after brushing your teeth, you were thankful to see Charlotte stirring, “Good morning, love,” You greeted warmly and grinned. Crawling onto the bed, you sat next to her and leaned against the headboard.
“Good morning,” She threw an arm over your lap and rolled over towards you, her eyes still closed. You chuckled and ran your finger through her curls.
“Where is daddy?” she asked and pulled away to look at you in the eyes.
You sighed and thought of reason to tell her, not having the energy to tell her he was out in a court fighting for her with her mother. You resorted to a simpler and easier answer, “Your daddy is out, darling, he will be back soon,”
“When will he be back?”
“I don’t know, honey. He will call us when he leaves,” you said, massaging her scalp. She hummed and pouted, “Why didn’t papa tell me he was going out?”
You took a minute to wonder why she called her father with different names at different times without any reason. You blinked and shook your head, “It was – uh – a sudden plan, darling! That’s why he couldn’t tell you because you were fast asleep when he decided it,”
“When did papa tell you?” She asked, her big eyes staring at you, hopefully, like you had answers to every question of hers; perhaps, it was trust. It wrenched your heart as you provided false answers to her question but she didn’t need to know of them just yet.
“Early in the morning. I think about 4 when my little girl was fast asleep, snoring,” You tickled her sides and watched proudly as she giggled but didn’t pull away rather moved closer to you and tugged at your hands.
“Alright, alright,” You took her into your arms and stood up from the bed, “You’re going to go brush now and I’m going to try to make you some-”
“Pancakes!” She yelled, raising her hand in the air.
You chuckled, “Pancakes, is it, then!” you let her down and pushed her gently to the bathroom, “Now, go brush,”
She stood at the entrance of the bathroom, and turned to glare at you with her hands on her hips, “Papa used to brush me,”
You narrowed your eyes at her playfully, and copied her position, “I live with you for over a week, darling. Now, go brush,”
“I can’t reach!” She whined, stomping her foot.
“Your just like your father, aren’t you?” You shook your head and took her in your arms again and placed her on your hips.
“What?” she scrunched her eyebrows, adorably.
“Both of you get what you want,” you said, pinching the tip of her nose, lightly. She giggled and buried her head in your shoulder.
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Hours passed and Charlotte spent the time without much thoughts of her father rather warmed up to you in the comfort of your couch, happily watching Disney movies with you. Then, came your much awaited ring. You darted to your phone and picked up immediately, Charlotte bounding after you and jumping up and down the couch as you answered the call.
“Hello?”
“The hearing is finished. I’m coming home, now,”
“How did it go?”
“I’ll tell you everything when I get there,”
“Alright. Oh, wait, wait, don’t cut the call, Charlotte wants to speak to you,”
“Yep,”
“Daddy!”
“Hey darling. Are you enjoying your day, puppy?”
“Yes, papa! (Y/N) is soo fun! When you come back can you get me some chocolates, papa? You told me you’d get them,”
“Of course, my love!”
“Love you, papa!”
“Love you too, darling!”
“Papa is coming home with chocolates!” She jumped into your arms. You chuckled and spun around with her secured in your clutch.
Within fifteen minutes of her excitement, the door bell rang and Charlotte was more than happy to receive her father. Opening the door for her, you anxiously leaned to look at Cedric, worried of the result of the hearing.
You were relived to see him catch his daughter in his arms and pepper her face with kisses, a wide grin on his face, “I love you, darling!”
“I love you too, daddy!” Her little arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and her head was buried into the crook of his neck when he stepped into the home.
The beautiful grin on his handsome face brought tingles to your stomach and you felt your heart swell.
‘We won,’ he mouthed, tears stinging his eyes. The years of struggle finally paid off and he had his daughter t himself. He no more had to fight to be her father. He no more had to leave her alone to that damned hearing every other time.
You placed a hand over your mouth and nodded asking for a reconfirmation. A  rapid nod in response and both of you resisted the urge from just pulling the other into a tight, warm hug.
“Puppy?” Cedric leaned back to look at charlotte in the eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed over her cheek as he kissed her forehead, “You’re my little girl, darling,”
Charlotte giggled although he could see the confusion in her eyes. Cedric ruffled her hair, “We are going out tonight,”
“Where, papa?!” Charlotte asked, smiling widely making his heart swell with love and pride.
Cedric kissed her cheek, “To the restaurant down the street,”
“Can we get shawarmas!?” She asked, excitement bubbling in her eyes.
“Anything you want, my love!” Cedric said and looked back at you, “Get ready, alright? We will leave within half an hour,”
“Me too?” you asked, taken aback.
“Yes, of course,”
“Uh, alright,” You fiddled with your fingers, nervously and nodded your head, hesitant, “Sure,”
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The sun was already setting by the time you left the home, dressed casually. Cedric and you stood on either side of Charlotte, who held your hands tightly and spoke as she pleased.
To the onlookers the three of you would have looked like a little happy family with a loving father, a caring mother and their little princess. They would have noticed him looking at you with much admiration in his eyes and watch your eyes skim over his handsome features when he wasn’t looking. They would have seen love weaving the three of you into a tightly knit family wrapped in warmth and protected against everything.
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officialscaramouche · 3 years
Note
Can I request an Angst to fluff for Scara? With a hint of jealousy pls.
I’m sorry, Mona for always making u the other woman 😭 I love her I promise but I also love to hate her
pairing: gn!reader x scaramouche (I hope ur not tall bc he isn’t yikes)
word count: 1,382
tw: jealousy, angst, themes of infedelity
You woke up once again to a cold, empty bed. Rolling over to stare at Scaramouche’s side of the bed, you wondered why you still sleep on one side. It’s not like he’d come home to sleep with you anyway, so what would it matter?
Getting up to brush your teeth, his side of the counter looked untouched as usual. This shared bathroom, shared house, was starting to feel more like you lived here by yourself.
No notes as usual, not a reminder that he’d be coming home today or any update on how much longer he’d be working on this project. You understood that Scaramouche’s job was important, and you knew that there would be times when you wouldn’t see him for weeks or months. But whenever the two of you were apart, he was usually in another country. Mondstadt, Liyue, Fontaine, somewhere else. Not like now, when he was here in the same city.
He had warned you that he’d get busier. He told you one night over dinner that the Tsaritsa had given him a big project— planning the capture of the traveler. He complained, saying that he also had to negotiate terms with an outside party about assistance, and how the Tsaritsa double booked him with work. He always hated getting important roles, but he never half-assed his job. His title as the Balladeer came before anyone and anything. He was a hard worker, if nothing else. But you knew this, and you told him that you would make it work but knowing he’s maybe thirty minutes away from you in the same city made it more painful that he didn’t come home.
Was he avoiding you? Did you do something wrong? Did he meet someone else, and simply not bother to break up with you? Maybe he was hoping you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to deal with confronting you. Whatever the case, you wished you knew the truth and if he was going to break your heart, you at least want to know the full story.
You packed him a lunch, hoping that he’d have time to step away and share a meal with you. If he hadn’t been coming home, he also wasn’t eating well. He would rather skip a meal or two than fall behind on work, but hopefully he’d make an exception.
When you got there, the agents already knew who you were. Hardly anyone stopped to say hello out of respect, knowing who you were dating. When you got to his office, the agent guarding the room stepped in front of the door— something he didn’t do before.
“Hello, Javert. I’m dropping off Scara’s lunch. Is there a problem?”
“I’m sorry, [Y/N], he’s not taking guests right now. Please see him at another time.”
You stepped forward, reaching for the door. “No, I’d like to see him now.”
Javert put a firm hand on your shoulder and pushed you back. “Please, this is an order from him directly, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I don’t care!” You spat, shoving him aside and quickly throwing open the door. “Scara, we need to talk—”
Your eyes met his, along with someone else’s. He sat on the outside edge of his desk, his hand on a woman’s chin— someone you had never seen before. His nose was not even an inch away from hers, a smile on both of their faces. “[Y/N],” he said in surprise, letting go of her chin and gently pushing her aside. “What are you…”
You drop the lunchbox onto the floor. “So this is what you’ve been so busy with, huh?” You bit your lip as it began to quiver, your fists shaking with rage. “This is why you couldn’t be bothered to come home?” Your heart pounded against your chest, the stinging pain too much to bear.
“[Y/N], wait. She’s—”
“No, fuck you! I’ve been waiting for you like a puppy, and you’re fucking around on me? We’re done!”
Kicking the lunchbox across the room, you turn and slam the door closed, Javert looking away to avoid making eye contact with you. You stomp down the halls, agents stopping to look at you. With the way you shouted, you didn’t doubt that everyone here heard you. Some people looked at you then quickly looked away behind you. Others tried to stop you from leaving, as if to beg you to stop and calm down.
It wasn’t until your fingers wrapped around the doorknob did you realize they weren’t looking at you or trying to stop you because not far behind, Scaramouche was stalking down the halls with an ugly scowl on his face. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, pressing you into the door. “Do you not hear me calling you, [Y/N]?” He hissed, holding your stare. “This is my workplace, you can’t just come in here and make a scene! Mikhail,” he snapped at one of the passing-by agents. “Open a conference room and escort the astrologist out of my office, please.” You pushed at his wrist holding you still against the door. “Please behave and come with me to my office.”
Back in his office he relieved Javert of duty to try and give the two of you some privacy. You stand by the door, refusing to move closer to his desk where they probably fucked every night, her sweat and come coating the surface. It made you angrier to think about it.
Scaramouche crouched down by one of the shelves as he picked up the contents of the lunchbox. “Thank you for making me lunch,” he said with a chuckle. “Even though I won’t be eating it now.” You didn’t say anything. You just stood there with your arms crossed, tapping your foot angrily. “Baby, please stop being mad. I already told you about her.”
“No you didn’t?! You didn’t tell me shit about some skank!”
He tossed the lunchbox on his desk, pulling his hat off and hanging it on the back of his chair. “Yes, I did. The assistance? She’s an astrologist, she can read the future.”
“So?! Why did you have to put your hands on her then?!”
Scaramouche made his way toward you slowly and deliberately. He extended his arms out to gesture for a hug. “Scare tactics, honey. She knows not to pick a fight in one of our bases. Look, she’s friends with the traveler. I have to make sure she won’t betray us.”
He stood in front of you, arms open and waiting for you to reach out to him. “I don’t like you touching her,” you spit, eyeing him up and down.
“Okay, baby. I won’t touch her again.”
“And I don’t want her alone with you in your office anymore.”
“Fine, you wanna start coming with me to work?”
“Are you actually going to come home?”
Scaramouche raised a brow at you. “What do you mean? I’ve been coming home.”
“No you haven’t! Your side of the bed is always untouched! And your sink, too!”
Scaramouche rolls his eyes and leans into you anyway, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight. “You do know I only get, like, three hours of sleep right? Because I get home so late and I leave so early.” He cups your cheek, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. “I can’t sleep without you, [Y/N]. Don’t be silly, you think I like being in this office? I’d much rather be at home, napping all day and getting lectured about the trash.”
You finally relax into the hug and hang your arms over his shoulders, letting him pepper your face and neck with kisses. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“Lying is a waste of time. You’d only find out the truth eventually.”
“I guess,” you pout, knowing he’s never been one for lying. “If I ever found out you’ve been having sex in this office behind my back, I’ll—”
“You’ll kill me, I know. Trust me, the papers on my desk are more important than pussy.” He pulled back to look at you, your blush heavy from embarrassment and pout prevalent on your lips. “But if you want to—”
“No!!”
“Okay! Geez, just saying!”
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citrusdarling7 · 3 years
Text
Tophelia (part 2)
summary- a smutty excerpt from my tom riddle x oc book, which you can find here (wattpad) or here (ao3)
warnings- smut, swearing, degrading, spoilers for My Riddle to Solve, shower sex
🗡--------------------------------------------—🗡
“Fine. Could I use your shower? The graveyard dirt is still caked to my skin, and there’s most definitely some blood on my hands.” Tom slumped down into one of his chairs and lit a cigarette.
“There’s spare towels under the sink, as well as unopened bars of soap,” he told me. I kicked off my boots and hung my coat next to his before heading into the bathroom. His was a lot larger than mine; one of the many benefits of being a Prefect. I stripped out of my dirty clothes and stepped under the hot water. My body let out a sigh of relief as the first stream of droplets hit my skin.
The brand of soap Tom had smelled like cedar and pine. It was a comforting scent, albeit a bit sharp. I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I didn’t notice the door open. Tom cleared his throat, causing me to jump. The shower curtain was pulled shut, so neither of us could really see each other.
“Tom, is something wrong? Did Adelaide wake up?” My voice was shaky, which he took in as a concern.
“Hanson is fine. May I join you?” My mind blanked for a moment. Was he really asking to shower with me? I didn’t care if he saw me naked, but this seemed strangely intimate.
“Alright.”
Riddle undressed himself quickly before peeling back the shower curtain and stepping inside. The lighting in the bathroom was dim, but I was still able to see his body in all of its glory. His chest muscles were intricately sculpted like those of a statue’s. The water from the showerhead trickled down him as he tilted his head backwards and sighed. Tom’s hands made their way to the sides of my hips.
“You’re very stressed. Tell me why,” he demanded in a soft voice.
“How could I not be? I just witnessed my best friend’s possession,” I scoffed. Tom abruptly pulled my body closer to his. His cock pressed against my stomach and his lips lowered to my neck. My eyelids fluttered shut as he began to kiss me gently.
“It’s something more than that. What’s on your mind?” His warm breath on my skin sent shivers down my spine.
“You don’t want to hear about my worries,” I said. Tom’s kisses trailed down to my clavicle as his fingers lightly traced my thighs.
“Mmh, I do. Indulge me with your thoughts.” His pace became more fervent, running his lips, teeth, and tongue across my collarbones.
“I-” my voice wavered at a sudden kiss against the nape of my neck. Tom’s lips were so warm and wonderful, driving me insane with every movement he made.
“Ophelia, be a good girl and talk to me.” The water from the shower head was being blocked by his figure, meaning that his hands and mouth were my only source of warmth. I wasn’t sure why Tom even cared about my worries, but as long as he was willing to keep kissing me, I was willing to divulge them.
“I’m worried. About Raymond, my cousin, the twins, Adelaide, and even you. Things have been different as of late.” The words tumbled past my lips in short breaths.
“What do you mean by that, my darling?” One of his hands snaked in between my thighs.
“Everything is just so hectic. I feel as if we are on the brink of war, concerning Grindelwald and his massive hordes of supporters. I want to protect everyone that I care about, but that is impossible seeing as I can barely protect myself.” Two fingers brushed against my core, causing my breath to hitch. Although Tom’s lips remained on my neck, I could practically feel him smirking.
“Keep talking. Tell me about your friends. Why are you worried for them?” Fingers stroked my folds slowly, eliciting me to tell him more.
“Raymond’s family is so hard on him, and his relationship with-” I almost let Abraxas’ name slip, my mind preoccupied with my current situation, “-Sarah is complicated to say the least. Adelaide is distant, Joslyn is constantly busy, and— fuck, do that again!” His thumb had pressed down onto my clit, causing pleasure to course through my legs and my back to arch against the wall.
“Tell me more, and I might let you come,” he offered with a delightful kiss beneath my jawline. My head fell back against the shower wall as one of his fingers entered me. Riddle was so damn good at this.
“My mother practically despises me, my father is completely corrupt, and the extended family thinks I am a disgrace,” I stuttered. His middle finger joined the first one, thrusting up inside of me with the perfect amount of pleasure as his thumb rubbed circles on my clit. Riddle’s wet curls tickled my neck as he kissed it.
“You take my fingers so well, don’t you?” I tried to speak, but all that came out of my mouth was a whimper. “Don’t stop now. You were being such a good girl for me,” he taunted.
“I- I hate feeling like I don’t- like I don’t know anything, and-” A particularly rough movement of his thumb left me gasping for breath. “Tom, I can’t-” The dark-haired boy tsked in amusement as his hand pulled away from my throbbing cunt.
“What a shame. I would have loved watching you climax around my hand.” He took a step backwards as I sighed in frustration.
“Please, Tom. You can’t just tease me like that,” I begged. He paid no attention to my pleas, opting to stand under the showerhead and act as if I didn’t exist. “Fine, I’ll just get myself off.”
I watched his shoulders stiffen at my suggestion. Riddle quickly spun around and pushed me against the shower wall. He debated the prospect for a moment, not sure if watching me touch myself would be worth allowing me to undermine him.
“You will do no such thing. I want to fuck you, on my bed this time. Would you like that, Ophelia?” I nodded, but that was not good enough for him. “Use your words.”
“Yes. I would.”
In what felt like a blur, Riddle waved his hand to turn off the shower, hoisted me up by the underside of my thighs, and carried me out of the bathroom. I was roughly tossed onto the bed, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped marks on my skin. His duvet was made of a soft black fabric that felt like heaven against my body. The two of us were still sopping wet from the shower, but I suppose Tom didn’t care. He noticed my shivering and quickly conjured up a fire in his fireplace.
He kissed me feverently, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth as my hands grasped at his curls. Skin against skin, I wrapped a leg around his in an attempt to close the gap between us. Heat pooled in my stomach as his lips made their way to my left nipple, sucking at pulling at it with his teeth. His fingers began to play with the right one, causing me to cry out in pleasure.
His kisses trailed down my chest and stomach, continuing lower until he stopped to glance up at me.
“I want to taste your pretty cunt. Can you manage to stay quiet if I do so? Lestrange’s room is to the left of mine,” he warned. The others were without a doubt still awake, and they most definitely did not want to hear me chanting Riddle’s name like a prayer.
“I’ll try my best,” I promised him.
“Good girl. Lie back and let me take care of you.” Tom smirked and pressed a quick kiss against my cheek before moving to kneel in front of the bed. He tugged at my hips to slide me forwards before lifting my legs over his shoulders. He kissed at my inner thighs for a few moments, wanting to tease me as much as he could. The first stroke of his tongue set my entire body ablaze.
His mouth against my heat was quite possibly the most pleasurable thing I had ever experienced. Tom gripped my thighs tightly as he ran his tongue across my folds. I bit down on my lip in a fruitless attempt to silence the moans he was eliciting from me. Dark eyes stared up at me as teeth and tongue wrapped themselves around my clit. My hands desperately clung to the duvet as his wet curls tickled my skin. The sensations I was feeling were so incredibly overwhelming that my hips involuntarily twitched and my legs started to shake. Merlin, why hadn’t I gotten with Riddle sooner?
“Keep still,” he demanded, his words sending vibrations up my core. One of his hands pressed against my lower stomach as the other one warningly slapped my thigh.
“Tom. Don’t stop.” I was rapidly approaching my climax, and the boy currently knelt in front of me also knew that. He abruptly pulled away, causing me to let out a frustrated sigh. However, my disappointment was short-lived. Tom quickly joined me on his bed, positioning himself above me. His cock was so painfully hard that I could see a vein throbbing. Strong hands pinned my arms above my head as he pushed into me with a sudden thrust.
The pace Riddle set was one of extreme speed and intensity. He fucked me so well; the tip of his cock brushed against a sensitive spot inside of me with every movement. My moans and whimpers increased in volume, prompting him to release my arms and clamp one of his hands over my mouth.
“Such a slut for me, aren’t you darling?” Tom’s pupils were blown with lust and his lips were swollen from intense kisses. Every thrust had me clenching around him; I was once again nearing my high. Tom brought his mouth to mine, muffling my moans with a rough kiss. I came around him with a cry; eyes rolled back into my head as pleasure coursed through my veins.
As I came down from my climax, my hands tightly gripped Tom’s shoulders, nails digging into his pale skin. I was painfully sensitive, so much so that sharp pain mixed with every bit of pleasure I was receiving.
When Tom finally reached his orgasm, he buried his face in my neck and stroked the side of my hip with his fingers. His jugular vein tensed as he murmured a stream of praises and swear words. After a few moments of soft kisses and gentle touches, he pulled away from me and went to retrieve his clothes from the bathroom.
“You clearly had a lot of pent-up frustration,” Tom teased as he examined his upper back in the mirror, which was littered with hot red crescent-shaped nail marks. A few of them streaked down his skin in long scratches.
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futurewriter2000 · 3 years
Text
Little Secrets - pt. 2
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A/N: I couldn't found a perfect gif. Okay?! But this is the closest I could get. Plus, I really have to go to the bathroom, so this is the quickest gif I could find. I also spent three days writing this because I had about thousands of scenes in my head but I had to write only one. I love it. Hope yall love it too <3
XX
All five of you have been sitting at the table; your father, James, Sirius, you and your mother, who had just brought some tea.
Sirius has been smiling at you. You had been smiling at him but not because you had pleasantly enjoyed his sudden appearance, though he was a quite fit young man, but because it was all so amusing.
"So you have a sister?" Sirius turned his head to James, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yes..." James smiled awkwardly. "My younger sister, (Y/N)."
"That you had never mentioned." you grit your teeth a little and raised an eyebrow.
"Why haven't you, son?" asked your father, meanwhile your mother went to get Sirius some warm clothes.
"...it... didn't come in conversation..." James shrugged.
Both you and Sirius let out a laugh, exchanging a familiar look, as if the two of you were old friends already.
"Does anybody in Hogwarts know that you have a sister?" you asked, getting more stiff and angry, though you pretty much knew the answer. "I mean, some purebloods surely have to know." your tone started to get louder, causing James to sink in his chair. "Or was the fact that you have a Squib sister put shame to your popular reputation?" you stood up from your chair, glaring at your brother and seeing his friend stare at you with wide eyes.
You were a Squib?
You ignored his expression and made your way up-stairs, going off to bed. You didn't cry and you didn't yell. You weren't really sad to cry or angry to yell... you were just confused. That's all.
---
A few days passed and you didn't much talk to James. You avoided him, called a few friends and went into town with them. They were all mostly Muggles and you didn't mind that. You kept your secret life separate but you did tell them that your brother was keeping you as some sort of secret from his friends and the only explanation you had was that he was some sort of ashamed of you.
"That's rubbish, Pea."
That's what your friends called you. A nickname from the first day of school all those years ago, there was a little accident with peas at lunch. Everybody called you Pea since then. Everybody except your family.
"Than what other explanation is there?" you started to get frustrated, digging your head into your hands. "I just don't understand!"
"Why don't you just ask him?"
"I did. He's determined to avoid the topic." you drank your coffee and threw yourself back.
"And his friend?" she raised one of her eyebrows.
"Sirius."
"Sirius. What a name..." she started to tease you. "Is he cute?"
"He is." you smiled a bit. "Quite fit."
"Uff! What does he look like?"
"Well, he's tall, a bit shorter than Jamie but he's got a gorgeous face. Like if Aphrodite had a son with Kleopatra, he'd be the product of them."
"Hell, that good looking?" she rolled her eyes, thinking you were being your usual sarcastic self.
But you weren't. He was literally beautiful. "Okay, look. I am not in love with the guy. I just have eyes and my eyes love pretty things. He is one of those pretty things."
"Objectifying now, are we?" she continued to tease.
"You know what I meant."
"What about Alissa?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows and causing you to sink in your chair.
"What about Alissa?" you smiled sheepeshly.
"I saw the way she hugged you in front of school."
"Yeah but I don't know if she's into... you know..."
"Girls?"
"Yes! It's so hard to tell. I mean, she gives me so many signs-"
"There you go. She likes you."
"- but then she also ignores me at times. Like this hot-and-cold energy."
"Oh." your friend frowned at the sight and slumped her shoulders. "How about we go to a party tonight? You and me-"
"And?"
"Some friends." she grinned.
"Whiskey?" you grinned as well, feeling so much lighter at the proposition.
"There has to be whiskey. If not, we're leaving."
"Okay, let me just call mum. Tell her, I'm going to be a tad late." you winked at her and ran to the payphone at the back of the cafe. You spun the number and waited.
Your family loved the phone. Being a wizard, the communication usually fell through the letters but since you lived with one foot in the Muggle world, the discovery of the payphone has made you overly-excited as well as your parents. The communication was much faster and you could always call your home whenever you needed.
"Hello?" there was a foreign voice that only seemed to belong to one person in that house.
"Sirius? Is that you?"
"What kind of sorcery is this?!" he shouted into the phone. "Who is this!?"
"Sirius, it's (Y/N)."
"Oh! James' little secret sister."
"Yeah, that one." you rolled your eyes.
"Are you stuck in there?"
"Where?"
"In this tiny box? Do I have to call your mum to get you out?"
"Sirius, this is a phone."
"Oh! I've heard of those. It's a Muggle thing." he let out a laugh. "Foolish little thing. When you can just write something and poof it to someone's way."
"Well, I can't really poof it, can't I?" you smiled as you heard him gulp on the other side.
"Uh... sorry... I forgot."
"It's fine." you giggled, letting him know you are not offended from his reckless words. "Can you get mum anyway?"
"Why?"
"Because I have to tell her I'm going to come home late today."
"Oh." you could see him leaning on the wall and smirking at the idea. "Where are you off to?"
"Only a friend's house.
"A-ha." he doubted. "Friend's house." he continued to speak in a mocking tone. "Am I-"
"Oh, you've discovered the phone." you heard James in the background, laughing. "Who is it?"
"This thing is magnificent, Prongs. I can talk to her like she's here, though she's not in this tiny little box.... is she?" he whispered the last part, covering the phone.
"It's (y/n)? Is she still mad at me?" he leaned on the phone. "Stop being such a stubborn little arse and get over it!" he shouted, meanwhile you rolled your eyes.
"She says she's staying at a friend's house?" said Sirius.
"No, she's not." James laughed. "Her friend, Mandy, lives with her uncle who doesn't approve of (y/n) what-so-ever. She's going to a party."
"Am not!" you shouted through the phone, clearly lying. "I'm not going to Mandy's... I'm going to Zoe's."
"Zoe? I thought she goes to Greece during the summer."
"She's staying this summer. Broke a leg."
"Broke a leg my arse!" James shouted.
"Can we come too?" you heard Sirius through the phone.
"Maybe next time. I don't think I can manage James' face without punching it yet." you shrugged.
"Can I come then?"
"Oi! Don't be a prick."
"What?! It's a party!"
"Just tell mum I'm coming home late and that-" and with that the call got cut. You looked at it with surprise and then just shrugged. "They got the message."
---
You had come home, not drunk, not tipsy... just a little dazed. You wished you were wasted but a memory of you not being able to walk a few years ago due to some heavy home-made Scottish Whiskey, you had decided that getting wasted wasn't worth it.
You put your shoes away carefully and quietly before going to the kitchen. A simple walk home sobered you up. You could walk normally, feel lighter on your feet but wanting to collapse into your bed as soon as possible. Though you were starving, so the fridge was the first stop. Toast, mayo, baloney and cheese.
"Mmmmmm." you rolled your eyes back from the delicious flavor in your mouth, almost melting as it filled your stomach. When your eyes rolled back to the sandwich you felt like you saw a spark of light from the corner of your eye. You glanced back up and saw a familiar figure standing on the porch.
He was leaning over the fence, mind deep in thought, eyes far in the distance. Brushing your hands on your pants, you opened the door from the porch and peeked out.
"Peek a boo." you said casually but he didn't budge, only turned back calmly.
He gave you a soft smile and moved a little to give you space. "How was the party?" he said as he flickered the cigarette away, shutting up the grasshoppers.
"Eh." you shrugged, mimicking his position. "Wasn't really a party, more like a friendly gathering."
"Bummer."
"Not really." you laughed. "There were all these random people, Muggles as you call them and I knew three or four of them. People kept leaving and coming, random people that I know from school but never really hung out with them, you know?" you looked at him and he smiled, listening on. "And I did talk and flirt with this guy, who kept coming onto me but all the time I kept observing others and by the end of the night, when I came home, there was only one person on my mind and it wasn't that guy- that random, thought quite charming and nice guy- but it was this girl from school with pretty bluish-greenish-brownish eyes."
"All three colours?" he laughed.
"They change colour a lot, okay?" you laughed. "But it's not even the colour, more like the way she looks at me- like she's in love with me but I don't know if she's in love with me because one day she's all for it and another moment she's ignoring me. It's so frustrating."
"So you like girls?"
"More or so. I don't mind guys either."
"Which one do you prefer?" he asked from curiosity.
Though it wasn't one of your favorite questions to hear, you still replied casually. "It's not the matter of preference, more like the matter of which I fall in love with. Guys are simple. They think simple and there's no secret meaning behind their words. You know when they want to snog you or shag you or when they want something serious or not serious. Simple."
"And girls are not simple?" he laughed.
"Oh, girls are so complicated!" you groaned. "Not all of them of course. Not me." you laughed and he chuckled as well.
"Not you?"
"No. I don't like to complicate things just because of how my last girl did."
"Your ex?"
"Not really an ex. It was an odd situation but listen up to this." you started to get more comfortable. "She and me have been writing to each other- she was a tough nut to crack to be honest. I was breaking the ice with that girl for like a year and a half. She was hot and cold with me. I never knew what she meant. One day she was giving me hints she was into me, another times she was completely ignoring me."
"Is this the same girl you talked about before?"
"No-" you stopped, thinking back a little. "Though it is a similar situation, isn't it?" you asked him, meanwhile he laughed.
"I think so."
"Hm... I'll get back to that thought." you pinned the realisation down and continued with the story. "Okay, so she was finally starting to open up to me- also she was tall and dark and gorgeous green eyes, super hot- I can't leave that out."
"No, you can't."
"She was getting to open up, telling me stuff about her family, her friends, which classmates she hated and I was getting excited because LOOKIE THAT! SHE MIGHT TAKE A FANCY IN ME." you said over-excitedly, throwing your hands in the air before your face and your hands fell back down. "And then I see her hugging a boy in the hall and suddenly they're both dating."
"Oh, bummer!" He laughed. "She was straight."
"Oh, hell no." you laughed. "That girl was definitely not straight but her parents were, so-"
"Oh, makes sense."
"Perfectly good sense. She's studying to become a lawyer."
"A lawyer?"
"Yes, a lawyer."
"Bet her parents are happy."
"Over the moon, I suppose."
"And you?"
"Eh. I moved on from her a long time ago. To be honest, I just liked the chase." you let out another laugh and he rolled his eyes.
"Really?"
"I always love a little chase or runner dynamic."
"So you're the chaser?"
"Or the runner, depends which one I'm feeling. Today was more like a runner but when I play the runner, they really give up easily, you know?"
"I actually do know." he shook his head a bit, pulled out another cigarette and lit it up. "Does James know?"
"He does but not about... you know... them. He just knows about it."
"What do you mean?" he started to laugh again. You were funny. He liked funny girls and from the way you reacted to James' little secret, he thought you'd be just like the others but you were so simple and funny with a tad of mystery in your eyes.
"He only knows bits of it."
"Bits of it?" he quirked an eyebrow. "I thought the two of you tell each other everything."
"Clearly not." you rolled your eyes and dropped your head back. "I'm a secret."
"A pretty secret." he blurted out before he could help himself. Noticing what he had said as he had watched you drop your head back, your hair flowing in mid air and your eyes focused on the distance, he really couldn't keep it in. James kept you a secret. A pretty little secret and he never understood why. He had known him for so long and he hadn't mentioned you once in all those years. Did Peter know? Or Remus? Or did really nobody know that James Potter really had a younger sister, who had no magical abilities.
"You think I'm pretty?" you smirked, quirking an eyebrow yourself.
He let out an embarrassed laugh and looked away just before his eyes locked with yours again, the blue that is bright in the day, now dark, almost black in the night. "I have eyes, (y/n). It's just a mere observation."
"Oh." you laughed as well, jumping down from the fence and putting your hand on his shoulder. "Than as a mere observation, I can say that you are extremely hot." you put your hand on his cheek and tapped it a few times just before you made your way to your bed. "Goodnight, Sirius Black."
He watched you walk away with his cheeks burning red. Bold, daunting- you were. Similar in a way with how James acted but he had to admit that you seemed quite more of an adventure than James. It sounded ignorant to say that. You were new, something hidden, now on the surface where he can marvel at you. He felt just a little bit more excited than the day he met James. Such a thrill, knowing that he has all the summer getting to spend with you.
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Text
scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 3
chapter 1 chapter 2
Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, and other warnings to be added
This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: A close call has you on the move.
Note: Alright, things are ramping up. As always, mind the warnings and take care of yourselves.
Thank you. Love you guys!
As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
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A third glass of wine helped you sleep better than you had in the last week. You didn’t remember much past the bottom of the glass; only the fear and the way it burned your throat. You didn’t remember falling asleep or even going to your bed. 
Slowly, as if drowning in oil, you woke. One eye opened, then the other. Your head pounded as the grey winter light peeked in. You groaned and a sudden crash made you shoot up in your bed. The duvet fell away from your chest as you listened to the grunting and the footsteps barreling across the floor. You were dizzy as your heart raced.
You kicked out from under the covers and stumbled frantically to the bedroom door. You peered out into the living room, the dark figure at the open door. Bucky braced himself against the frame and swore. He looked as if he would bolt out until his eyes settled on you.
He gritted his teeth and pushed himself straight. He closed the door and locked it firmly. He shook his head and crossed to you.
“I didn’t mean to wake you--”
“What’s going on?” You looked around. The coffee table was overturned, the lamp too, and pillow leaked its innards onto the floor. “What was that? What happened?”
“It’s okay, I think I got him much worse,” Bucky assured you. 
You noticed for the first time the knife in his hand. The same black handle that he holstered on his belt. You blanched as your eyes scaled his torso and the dark blood spread across his grey tee shirt.
“Did you?” You asked as you backed away. “Oh my, that’s a lot of blood.” You touched your stomach, still sensitive from the night before and roused by the sight of red. “Are you okay?”
He looked down and touched along his ribs. He hissed and carefully set down his knife on the arm of the couch. “Shit.” He pulled open the slice in the cotton and chuckled. “Fucker got me good.”
“How can you laugh?” You gasped. “What do you mean-- Was it him? Was he in here?”
“Yeah and so was I,” Bucky raised the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “I took care of him.”
“He got away,” you looked at the door. “He got in! How could he--”
“Well, I assumed it was easier in a carrier’s uniform,” Bucky bunched up his shirt and stemmed the blood with it. His thick arms tensed and his broad chest puffed out. “But… I think I got a decent peek at his face.”
He went to the lamp and pulled it up. You watched him stunned. How could he be so casual? Your eyes fell to a trail of blood that led to the door and was smeared across the side of the coffee table.
“I told you, I got him worse,” Bucky said as he looked at you. “You got some bandages, or something?”
He sat heavily and leaned back as he looked under the tee shirt. You blinked and nodded dumbly. You recalled the video call the night before; the woman’s blood pouring from her throat, bubbling along her lips. You went to the bathroom and searched beneath the sink for the first aid kit you’d never even opened.
You came back out and unclasped the metal box. You set it on the corner of the couch and bent to flip the coffee table. Bucky stopped you. “Leave it. It’s got evidence on it.”
You stood and stared at him as he took the first aid kit and balanced it on his thigh. He stirred around with one hand and pulled out the bottle of alcohol. He pressed down on the tee before removing it and sprayed the gash. You slumped onto the couch and tried not to look. You had never done well with the sight of blood. There was so much, you could smell it even.
“Shit,” he uttered, “I think I’m gonna need some help.”
You looked up again and he pulled out a spool and a packaged needle. You’d never thought you’d need those.
“I can’t-- Blood, it makes me… sick,” you murmured. “I don’t know--”
“Well, I can’t exactly see well enough to do it myself,” he grunted. “Honey, it’s fine. It’s nothing serious but it needs stitching.”
You squinted at the pet name. The more he said it, the more odd it seemed. You weren’t his honey, you were a job. 
You sniffed and neared him. Your hand shook as he ripped open the packet and threaded the needle. You took it from him as he held it out. You stared at the metal point then glanced at him.
“I’ve never…”
“Have you ever sewn? A cross-stitch maybe?” He asked.
“I took home econ in high school but that was… a long time ago,” you swallowed. “What if I make it worse?”
“It’s just like a tear in a pair of pants. That’s all. Don’t think about it. Just--” He gripped the tee shirt tightly, “Do it.”
He lowered the cotton and bared the cut again. Your lashes fluttered and you let out a long breath. You got closer and bent over him. You hesitantly touched the flesh along the cut and pointed the needle along it. You bit down as you poked his skin.
“Come on,” he rasped, “We got a lot more to do.”
You pushed the needle’s nose through his flesh and your stomach flipped. You held your breath as you pulled the threaded through and repeated the action, again and again. His blood stained your fingertips and when you reached the end, he stilled your hand and took the needle from you. He looked down as he knotted the tail and you barely kept from tripping over the coffee table as you retreated.
“Go. Pack a bag,” He pushed himself to his feet as he tossed the thread in the kit and slid the needle back into the plastic. “I’ve gotta make a call. I doubt they’ll let you stay here any longer.”
“Where will I go?” You asked as you rubbed your fingertips, still wet with his blood.
“Somewhere safe. I promise.” He said as he wiped his hands on his tee shirt. He looked around and bent to retrieve his phone from beside the tv stand. “But right now, we don’t have time for all the questions.”
You just nodded as he dialed and retreated to wash your hands. 
As your adrenaline slaked away, your hangover became more apparent. Not only your head, but your entire body ached. Had it been worth fleeting moments of oblivion?
You went to your bedroom and dug around the closet for the wrinkled old duffel bag. It felt hopeless; futile. Even with Bucky there, that monster had almost gotten to you. Was there anywhere he could keep you safe?
You shoved some clothes in the bag and went to the bathroom to grab your toothbrush and other toiletries. You heard Bucky talking and the distant voice buzzing from the speaker.
“We need somewhere more secure. I understand, I didn’t expect it so soon but… well, he knows now. He’s going to be even more desperate…”
You zipped up the duffel and marched out to the living room. You plopped it on the floor and crossed your arms. Bucky hung up as he turned to you, dropping his fingers from the blinds he’d been peeking through.
“You said he would hide for a bit,” you said. “But… why is he doing all this?”
“We’re just going of the BSU assessment. They can be wrong. They can draw up a whole profile but it’s almost impossible to predict what these types do next. We went off similar cases, similar circumstances. But like I said, this isn’t our typical suspect.”
“Uh huh, and yet you won’t tell me how. And he’s dangerous enough to almost get past you--”
“Not even close,” Bucky insisted. “Honey, come on. I do this all the time. You have no idea what the fuck we’re dealing with so stop it with the questions and go get changed. Back up’s on the way.”
You flinched at his tone. You huffed and shook your head. You went back to the bedroom and pulled out some jeans and a long-sleeve sweatshirt. You really didn’t care what you looked like.
When you entered the living room again, Bucky dropped your bag closer to the door. You crossed your arms as he took his hoodie from over the back of the couch and zipped it up over his bare torso. You grabbed your phone from the shelf where it was charging and he was on you in an instant. His hand covered yours, the metal cold and hard.
“You have to leave it,” he said. “We can’t compromise our new position.”
“What? But--”
“What do you think is going on right now? Life as you know it is over. No more phone,” he yanked the cell from your grasp, “No more apartment, no more work.” You grimaced and held up your phone. He squeezed until you heard it crack and it bent in his metal grip. “You got to trust me.”
“What the fuck? You didn’t have to do that.” You stared at your broken phone as he dropped it back on the shelf.
“Honey, you gotta start listening to me. Fuck around and I can’t protect you.”
Your lip twitched. Honey, honey, honey. That wasn’t your name. You shrugged and spun away from him.
“When are we going?” You asked.
“Soon,” Bucky said, “Get your coat, your shoes. I’m just waiting for the call.”
You brushed by him and pulled on your boots, ignoring your heels. You grabbed your jacket and you heard a soft vibe. Bucky reached over your shoulder as he took his own coat and stepped into his own boots. He exhaled as he checked his phone.
“Alright, let’s go. Back door.” He directed as he turned the lock, “Come on.”
He opened the door and grabbed your duffel. He waved you into the hall and locked the door behind him with one hand. He tucked away his key and nudged you onward. Only the stomp of your boots sounded as you hurried down the stairwell and he pushed by you to open the heavy door.
He ushered you out into the early morning chill and caught your elbow as he followed you. He urged you across the parking lot to a black car with tinted windows just at the edge of the tarmac. He opened the back door and tossed our bag inside.
“Get in,” he said as he looked around. “Now.”
You ducked through the door and Bucky climbed in the passenger seat. You blinked as you caught a glimpse of the driver in the rearview. Then he turned to nod at Bucky and you recognized him. Steve Rogers greeted his old friend with a quiet ‘hey’.
“Go,” Bucky demanded. 
“No introductions?” Steve put the car in gear and pulled past the rows of cars.
“This is Steve,” Bucky said sharply as he looked back at you, “I know you’ve read the case file. You already know her.”
“Where are we going?” You asked softly as you leaned on the duffel.
“Safe house. About two hours out,” Steve answered before Bucky could. “You’ll be safe there.”
You chewed your lip. Well, surely two was better than one and yet Captain America’s presence was hardly reassuring. That just confirmed to you how fucked this whole situation was.
“Fury didn’t like the last minute notice but he understood,” Steve said to Bucky.
“Mmm, we can talk about it later.” Bucky grumbled. “Honey, why don’t you get some more sleep. It’s gonna be a long ride.”
Steve peeked at you in the mirror as he turned out of the parking lot. He glanced at Bucky next but stayed quiet as his eyes returned to the road.
“Take your own advice, Buck,” Steve snickered. “You both look like you need it.”
👁️
You didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. A mixture of anxiety and the shadow of alcohol kept you awake. Even so, you closed your eyes and kept quiet in the backseat. The motion of the road lulled you and helped ease your headache. Few words passed between the men up front.
When you did open your eyes, tall trees passed you by and lined the winding road ahead. You were well out of the city but couldn't guess where. Maybe you should have paid attention. Or not. It was better to be far away, to lose yourself in hopes your stalker would as well.
The cabin was nothing special. It looked like any other retreat away from the world. Deep in the heart of the forest, it felt an entirely different world. As Steve killed the engine, you sat up and unbuckled your seat belt. You slid out of the backseat with your bag in hand as Bucky went to the trunk and pulled out a bag of his own. Steve did the same and checked the time on his watch.
You followed Steve as Bucky stayed to your rear. You didn't miss his hand on his knife or the way he looked around. Up the steps, you wait as Steve pressed his hand over the sign that said “home sweet home" and the door clicked. He nudged the door open with his foot and let you in. Bucky closed the door and the latch whirred loudly back into place.
Steve turned and opened a panel beside the door. He pressed a finger against the screen and quickly typed in several codes. A sudden lurch and the shudders rose on their own; metal slats folding and rolling up in unison. The lights all flicked on at once and the growl of a generator rose from below.
"Windows are bulletproof. There's no way in or out without one of us," Steve pointed between himself and Bucky, "And most assuredly, you have two super soldiers watching your back." 
"Mmhmm," you muttered as you looked around. "Well, I think it's bad enough I even need two."
"Well better than none," Bucky said. "Steve, you can show her around. I need to call HQ, give a description of this guy before it's too far gone."
"Sure," Steve said and waved Bucky off. He turned to you as he unzipped his coat. "Not sure why he's asking me. I've never been to this one before."
"How long will I be here?" You asked as you took of your jacket and he took it from you to hang it over his own. 
"Well," he leaned on the wall as he removed his boots, "I hope not too long. If Bucky got a good look at this guy, no more than a week or two. "
"So… you know… everything?"
"I've caught up," he said, "Not gonna lie, it's… intense but you shouldn't worry. Me and Bucky, we've never had a mission we couldn't handle."
"Guess it's better than being on my own," you said. "I just… why me?"
He tucked his hands in his pocket and looked at you. "Well, from what I know, these types rarely have logical reasoning. You can't blame yourself." He shifted his weight on his feet, "Hey," he pointed behind you to the next room, "A woodstove. How about that?"
👁️
When Steve finished the tour, or rather aimless wandering, of the safe house, he let you pick a room. There were several and you didn’t give much thought to your choice. You just wanted somewhere to relax. It was barely after noon and already it felt like the day had dragged on. After such a terrifying night, you had been thoroughly unprepared for the startling reality of the day.
He left you to seemingly ordinary room. A double bed, plaid duvet, chestnut night tables and a matching dresser. A carpet woven in the Navajo fashion was sprawled across the floor and a small desk looked out the window. A portrait of pine and maple seemed to mirror the view on the opposite wall and added to the cabin’s cozy allure.
You placed your duffel atop the dresser and slid open one drawer at a time as you unpacked your hastily collected attire. Two pairs of jeans, a pair of pajamas, a pair of loose shorts, socks, several shirts with vary styles and sleeve lengths, a second bra, and your scramble of toiletries. The only thing that was missing were your underwear. You swore you had grabbed those first as they lined your top drawer but they were no where to be found in your mess.
You could’ve overlooked them. Easily. You were so rattled, so hollow, so suffocated by terror that you couldn’t think of much but the smell of blood and the voice that grew clearer and clear in your mind.
Your head continued to pulse with the dregs of your previous night’s excess and the bile boiled in your stomach. You sat on the bed and held your head. You took a breath, restless despite your fatigue, and sighed. You hadn’t done anything and yet it felt as if you had dug yourself into the hole. As if no matter what you did, the pit got deeper and deeper and soon the dirt would start to pile in on you.
You shook off your despair and stood so quickly you stumbled. You needed to just stop. You needed to breathe; calm down. As blunt as Bucky could be, he was often right. You had him and Steve looking out for you.
You peeked out into the hallway and listened. You heard the two men talking but they were not close enough to decipher their words. You stepped out and crossed to the washroom just opposite your room. You locked yourself in and searched the cupboard for a towel. There were at least a dozen to your surprise and you hung one over the bar before you twisted the faucet on.
Anything to wash away your hangover. To cleanse you of the constant dread of your existence. A couple minutes under a hot shower to forget. A few moment for yourself. To just be.
You undressed and winced as the peculiar pain between your legs. You’d felt tender for much of the day and assumed maybe the stress was bringing on an early period. No blood, however. You felt grimy as you peeled off your layers and stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked as worn out as you felt.
You slipped past the curtain and welcomed the sheer heat of the downpour. You let it wash over you, let the steam smother you, let the rivulets slake over you and swirl down the drain. It was second, minutes, hours, eons… you could not tell.
You were sleepy as you turned off the tap. You wrapped yourself in the fluffy white towel and gather your clothes. There wasn’t much for you to do here; Steve had said as much. You stepped out into the hall and were startled by the figure in your bedroom door. Bucky turned to face you. His eyes flicked down for just a moment as you clutched your towel.
“I knocked,” he said. “I didn’t realise--”
“It’s fine. What do you need?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“As good as I can be,” the warmth seeped from you as the air nipped at your bare skin, “Thanks.”
“Good, good,” he nodded and smiled awkwardly. “I have a favour to ask you.”
“A favour?” You hugged your clothes in one arm as you kept your distance.
“Well, we only have rations really in the cupboards. Not very good. Vacuum sealed and bland. So thought maybe you could make a list and me and Steve could take care of that tomorrow.” He explained. “And anything else you need. Shampoo, toothpaste, whatever…”
“Oh, uh, sure,” you pressed your lips together. “You mind if I, uh, get dressed then get back to you?”
“Y-yeah,” he seemed to realise he was blocking your door, “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be downstairs. We’re just going over some evidence.”
“Alright,” you sidled past him. “I’ll be down soon.”
You quickly closed your door and leaned against it. You listened through the thick wood. You heard a soft tap and the drag of something against the other side. A whisper you could not discern before his footsteps finally retreated. Odd but perhaps you were only hearing things. Paranoia could make the tallest tales seem true.
You dressed, mournful of your forgotten underwear, and made your way downstairs. Bucky sat with his back to you as you entered the dining room, a chandelier with fake candles hung from the ceiling and cast hazy shadows along the walls. Steve sat to his left and slid over a piece of paper. 
Both heard you enter and looked over at you; Steve smiled, Bucky stared pensively.
“I can make that list now,” you neared as you hugged yourself. “It’s chilly in here.”
“Oh…” Steve looked down then scoffed, “Yeah, afraid we’re not so sensitive to it. We tend to forget.” He stood and stretched his arms. “I’ll go figure out the furnace.”
“So, have you--” Your voice caught in your throat as you neared. You caught sight of the frantic scribbles, the smeared led across the paper. Bucky tried to sweep the sheet into a folder but you stopped him as Steve froze behind his chair. “What is that?”
He didn’t need to tell you. It was a drawing of you, crude but discernible. You were bound and naked, legs wide and there was blood smeared down your chest. You gaped at the sketch and shook your head. Bucky stood slowly.
“He did this?” You rasped. “How many-- how many of these has he done?”
“It’s confidential,” Bucky snatched the paper and placed it in the folder. “You shouldn’t be looking at all this.”
“After last night? After he broke into my apartment this morning?! What am I supposed to do? How can I do anything if I know nothing?”
“We are taking care of it,” Bucky grabbed your shoulders. “So you just be a good girl and let us.”
“I can’t do nothing! Please, do you have any idea what it’s like? All I can think of is this-- this monster and everything he’s done. What he’s gonna do to me.” You latched onto his wrists and tried to pull him away. “I almost just wish he’d have it done with.”
Bucky growled and Steve warned him with a hum. He dropped his hands and backed away from you. He stacked up the folders and looked at Steve.
“Take her back to her room before you deal with the heat,” Bucky said. “Lock her in if you have to.”
“What? You can’t--”
“Honey, I can do whatever I want to keep you safe,” he pointed a finger in your face. “I have the clearance.”
You snorted and glanced at Steve. He gave a pitiful look in return. He motioned to the doorway as he raised his brows in exasperation. You didn’t look at Bucky again as you turned and stormed out ahead of Steve. As he caught up to you at the bottom of the stairs, he kept his voice low.
“I won’t lock you in,” he said, “Just don’t push him. He just needs time.”
“He needs time?” You scoffed.
“Look, he told me what happened this morning. He’s not the type to be left bleeding like that.” Steve explained, “And he really does want to keep you safe.”
433 notes · View notes
vintagedolan · 4 years
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I don’t even know what to call this lmao, but here’s your continuation of this blurb based on the gif above :)
warning: smut :’)
“Shoes on or off?”
“On,” you hummed, curious to see how it would play out with you in heels. If Grayson swallowing hard enough for you to see it was any indication, it was probably the right decision, and once again, you felt the warmth of confidence spread through you again. It was reassuring in a way, to know that you had the same effect that he so obviously had on you.
He kept walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. Usually, this would be the point where you fell back onto the mattress, and Grayson fell on top of you. But, he made a spur of the moment decision and pulled you forward to kiss you hard, keeping you standing there in your heels for a moment longer.
“I have an idea.”
“I’m listening,” you mumbled, already a bit breathless just from anticipation alone. 
“You wanna feel sexy right?” 
It seemed almost childish for him to say it so outright, but there was nothing childish about the way his thumb was brushing across your lace covered boob, tickling over your nipple that was just barely hidden away.
“Yes.”
“Well. When do you feel sexiest?” 
“Gray.”
“I’m serious, I wanna know!” He took in your blush and your hesitation with a soft smile. “Here, I’ll start. But let me do something really quick.”
You frowned a bit at the loss of contact when he stepped away, but it was only to turn the lights off and turn the LEDs under his bed on - a new addition to the bedroom that he was rather proud of. And it was no surprise that he left them on red - it made the dark green of the wall wash black, along with the lace and straps against your skin. He came back over to you, devilishly close, and placed a hand on your waist as his fingers traced over the silky strap of your garter belt. It was a delicate thing - one of his fingertips was wider than it was - but he didn’t show any sign of wanting to take it off of you. His eyes just traveled over you, every curve shown off in the red lights as he spoke.
“I feel sexiest when...” He traced his hand up, over your side and back up to your boob, with just enough contact for your body to shudder. “...when I make your body react like that. Or when you say my name when you cum. Just...you. Getting you worked up, it makes me feel good, like I’m doing something right.”
If his words weren’t so filthy that they went straight to your panties, they may have actually been sweet. But he knew exactly what he was doing, from the tenor of his voice to the way his hands have traveled from the belt down to your ass, hands spreading wide over the flesh. It had your entire body buzzing already, and it didn’t help matters that he leaned in and nipped at your ear, breath hot against your neck.
“What about you, hmmm? What does it for you baby, tell me.”
As if it wasn’t hard enough to get your answer together, he pressed kisses down your shoulder and back up to your neck as he waited for you to find your words. 
“When you cum fast. Or when I can tell you’re trying not to, but you want to.”
“You make my job very hard,” he hummed, unable to stop himself from interrupting. Every word you were saying went straight to his dick, and it took all his self control to stay still. You were in the same boat when he leaned back up and you looked down, saw the ridges of his abs contrasted in the red, saw the way he was tenting his boxers.
“And when you can’t keep your hands off me, no matter where we are.”
At that he groaned low in his chest, thumbs tracing over the vertical straps that sat snug over your ass cheeks, up and down. If he moved any further forward he’d realize you were practically dripping for him already, and you bit your lip at the thought. Sure, you and Grayson always had your fair share of foreplay, but this? This was something else.
“What else, tell me.” If you could have seen his eyes in the lighting, his pupils would have been blown wide open. 
“When you talk to me, tell me how I make you feel. Lets me know when I’m doing a good job.” That one, for some reason, made you blush the hardest. Maybe because of the cheeky smile that stretched across his lips.
“You always do a good job baby. Trust me on that one,” he teased, finally kissing you again, apparently satisfied with your answers. You couldn’t decide where to put your hands, so you settled for his sides, running your nails over his ribcage gently as he held your face with both his hands, pressing you to him as his tongue overtook yours.
You’d heard Grayson Dolan say a lot of dirty things in the bedroom. But god, were you woefully unprepared for what he said when he pulled his lips back from yours.
“Make me cum. I want you to see how fast you can make me cum.”
If you weren’t holding onto him, you probably would have fallen over. Never, not once, had he asked you for something like this. Usually the roles were entirely reversed, and it lit a fire in you that you didn’t know you had the embers for. 
With a sudden burst of confidence you spun the two of you around, pushing on his chest until he fell back against the mattress, the way you usually did. Now, you could understand why he always paused for a moment, why he looked you over so heavily when he had you like this. He looked blissful, beautiful, godly laid out there before you, even when he bridged his hips up to free himself of his boxers. 
There was no time for teasing, not when he’d asked you so outright for what he wanted, and what you wanted. So, you immediately crawled up to him, getting your waist level with his before you swung a leg over. It took a moment of maneuvering but you did your best to make it quick, lifting up enough to get his dick lined up and your panties pushed far enough to the side to accommodate him. 
He sucked in a breath through his teeth as soon as your hand wrapped around him, and there was something deliciously dirty about the fact that the first thing that felt how wet you were was the head of his dick.
“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” he groaned as you started to sink down onto him. You didn’t bother with trying to get to your feet - the heels probably would have made it impossible anyways. You knew he liked having you pressed up against him in any way that he could, especially like this. So you stayed down, knees digging into the mattress as you braced your hands on his chest for a moment, sinking down until you could feel his balls against your ass.
And then, you were moving. Grinding, bouncing, figure 8′s above him as you tried to get him to the edge as fast as you could, watching his face as you moved, the way his eyes would scrunch up for a moment before his mouth fell open and his whole torso arched and squirmed under your hands.
“Jesus you’re gonna make me cum, fuck baby, fuck yeah,” he could barely get enough breath in to speak, his hands uselessly grabbing at your moving hips, garters tickling against his forearms as his fingers found the flesh between the belt and your thong. 
To your surprise, your rapid pace was doing the trick for you too, though that was your last priority. It might have had more to do with the fact that your boyfriend was a mumbling mess below you after about 30 seconds, but either way, you felt that tightening in your tummy, the moment of numbness that you knew would break into something overwhelming
“Don’t stop, please fuck don’t stop,” he whined, urging you forward as you folded forward against him, let him wrap his arms around you as you bounced on him, slick sounds and heavy breathing filling the room until he was squeezing you, so tight it almost hurt, the same way your walls were squeezing him. And that was his downfall - a minute in and he was undone, shooting inside of you like it was the last thing he’d ever do. 
You came down together, with you sliding up just far enough to kiss him, breathy and messy as you tried to recover, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of you.
“Holy shit. What was that, like a minute?” 
“I’d say 45 seconds... 50 if I’m being generous,” you teased, smiling at the feeling of his chest moving as he laughed. 
“Whatever, I don’t give a fuck if you’ll ride me like that every time,” he said, shaking his head up at the ceiling. 
“You didn’t tear any fabric, I’m proud of you,” you giggled. 
“Couldn’t. Want you to wear this thing every fuckin’ day.”
“Doubtful, I don’t have enough time to get in and out of this shit. Actually, I don’t even know how to get outta this thing,” you admitted with a laugh.
“Let’s go get cleaned up, I’ll help.” 
You were right back to your casual selves as soon as he sat you down on your feet in the bathroom, both working in tandem and laughing as the other struggled to loosen the straps and finally get you out of the contraption. The heels were the best part, with you bracing against his shoulder while he fiddled with the tiny straps.
And when you were freshly showered and clad in one of his big t-shirts, it was obvious that he’d softened up just as much as you had, especially with the blue lights illuminating the room.
“You know, you’re just as sexy like this,” he hummed, rolling over to get closer you, pulling you against him before sneaking a hand under your shirt to cup one of your boobs.
“Right,” you laughed, shaking your head. 
“i’m serious. I’ve got a thing for you in my shirts.”
“I wear your shirts all the time,” you countered.
“And?”
You just rolled your eyes and blushed, making a bit of a mental note to raid his wardrobe even more often than you already did. 
“Thank you, for tonight.”
“I think I should be thanking you, but you’re welcome baby,” he smiled at you, moving his hand from your shirt to run along your cheek. You replayed the night in your head while you looked at him. 
“What?”
“50 seconds huh. Is it like that every time? Like obviously you don’t actually cum that quick every time, but like... could you?”
Now, it was his turn to get embarrassed. He rolled over, practically on top of you as he buried his face in your neck.
“Maybe,” he muttered, making you laugh as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Bubs, really?”
“Like I said, you don’t make my job very easy.”
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jj-lynn21 · 2 years
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The rental mistake chapter 4
Chapter 1, Chapter 2  chapter 3  chapter 5
@super-pink-a-palouza  @caliskarsgard
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The chapter are short in this five chapter story about a rental mix up that could end up benefitting both parties. Characters include AU Bill Skarsgard and my original character Sammatha. It is mostly whimsical with a little blood and sex towards the end. A bit of orgasm denial and oral on female. Enjoy.    
They had a delicious dinner with Sammatha’ s brownies for desert Bill asked her about her work. She told him it was mostly sitting at a desk writing creatively when it was good. Writing boring crap when it was a deadline, and she was having writers block. It had been at lot of crappy lately so that is why she decided to take this vacation break.  
She asked him to tell her a funny story. She did not what to ask about his work or family because she figured everyone wanted to know too many details about those things.  
Bill thought a moment. “I one time had a really clogged toilet. No matter what I did I could not get the shit down.  The next day I tried to forget about it. Then I had a friend over. The first thing she did was ask to use the bathroom.”
“Ohno how embarrassing.” Sammatha fretted.  
“Wait.” He grinned. “So, I rush into the bathroom and grab the toothbrush to push it down. And finally, I get it to flush. I just put the toothbrush on the sink think I would throw it away later. We drank and had  a good time. While we were cuddling in bed she whispered to me, “Thanks for leaving an extra tooth brush out for me. I love brushing my teeth before bed but didn’t think to bring one.”
“Oh hell no.” Sammatha laughed. “Is that a true story.
“No, but it made you laugh just like it made me laugh when my friend said it.” Bill laughed.
They drank wine and listened to music ending up dancing as the sun said good night and the moon shined full through the window.  
They were laughing, drinking and dancing when the music changed pace.  A slow jam came on her phone. “I can change this.” She went to grab her phone.
Bill pulled her close to sway instead. “You don’t have to change a thing for me.”  
Sammatha giggled a little before resting her head on his chest. She could feel his heart thumping. One of his hands in hers. His other on her lower back. Her hands rest on his warm back. His hand that was on her back came up to run through her hair which made her look up.  When she did, he leaned down closer. Her heart was racing now. Thir lips came together softly. With her lips being very receptive Bill deepened his kiss.
Bill took a deep breath. “I want to fuck you.”
“Yes.” Is all she could say.
“But not tonight.” He spun her out from him.  
She fell onto the couch leaning back trying to look seductive. “Are you sure.”
“Yeah, you are drunk” He put out his hand out to help her stand.  “But if we both hold out tonight, it will be much better tomorrow. That means no self-gratification before we fall asleep.”
She took his hand getting up in a huff. “Alright.”
He slapped her bottom. “Go get your pjs on. I will pull the couch out and tuck you in when you return.”
“Tuck me in with a kiss?” She grinned.
“We’ll see.” Bill chuckled.
When she got back, he did tuck her in with another drawn out kiss. She tried to pull him down. He didn’t let her even though part of him really wanted it. Sammatha did fall asleep quickly. The wine helped with that. But Bill was having a hard time. He also enjoyed the wait. The leading up to a vacation sexcapade with someone he just met. It was a perfectly tantalizing situation.  
The next morning Bill was up at dawn. He was used to early mornings and late evenings, but coffee helped perk him up. He made enough for Sammatha and made some mimosas. She woke to the smell off coffee and sizzling steak and eggs. “Ugg my head is spitting.”
“Aspin at the table with coffee, a mimosa and waffle with strawberries and cream. It will all settle your stomach. I promise.”
He sat down with his steak and eggs. “I was thinking about going for a hike today. You are welcome to come with me when you are feeling better.
She just stared blankly as she tried to eat without it coming back up.  
Bill glanced at his phone while they were eating breakfast. “Still no word from the homeowner.”
Her headache was still there but she had to admit the carbs eased her stomach.  The coffee was heavenly. She left the mimosa as she got up slowly. “I need a shower.”  
He just nodded with a big mouth full of food. When he was finished eating, he cleaned up the table leaving her mimosa in case she wanted it after her shower.  He put all dishes and pans he used to cook in the dishwasher and got that started. Then he went to the bedroom to get dressed for the day.
Sammatha eased herself under the hot spray of the shower. The heat on her neck eased up her headache or maybe the aspirin was kicking in. She was feeling more alive. The scent of her orange energy bodywash helped her also. She was thinking about how he seemed to not have a hangover at all even though she thought he drank more than her. By the time she was done she was ready for an adventurous hike. The air would probably do her good she thought.
“Sorry I was not so communicative this morning.” She said as she sipped the mimosa.  
“No big deal.” He was on his second cup of coffee. “Hangovers are a bitch.”
“Yes.” She replied. “But you seem fine.”
“Nordic DNA.” He laughed. “At least that is what my dad says.”  
2 notes · View notes
rockthingsbymeg · 4 years
Text
A couple drinks
Pairing: Slash / Saul Hudson x reader
Info: fluff and smut and 5 seconds or so of angst; 4231 words;
A/N: Hey guys. Here’s another fic for you. I am doing my best to work on the last requests, but I’m also working on a multi-chapter fic that I hope you guys enjoy <3
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Y/N's head spun, her vision was blurry and the music seemed way too loud but to say that she wasn't having a great time would be a lie. She had a nearly finished bottle of Daniel's in her hand and was talking to a few of her friends, laughter echoing around their group.
Her attention, however, was not entirely on the friends by her side. It was, instead, on the guy that had invited them to the party in the first place.
He was sitting on the couch talking with two of his bandmates, all of them good friends of Y/N, and somewhere along the night he had lost his shirt and jacket, much to Y/N's happiness. He was a bit sweaty, probably due to the amount of people gathered in such a small space, and his torso shone under the red light that illuminated the room.
His hair was wild and free, voluminous curls all over the place, covering his eyes as usual but this time not covering the wide and a bit drunk smile that he had on his lips.
God. That smile did things to her...
Her eyes continued to scan him, taking a look at how good his legs looked with those leather pants clinging to them. She could make out the faint outline of his dick, since he always skipped underwear, and it made her mouth water and her teeth sink down on her bottom lip to stop an involuntary groan from coming out.
All she wanted to do was straddle him and fuck him right on the couch, in front of everyone.
So, in her drunk bliss and courage, that became her plan. She turned away from her friends without a word, leaving them looking at her a bit confused but quickly going back to their conversation, downed the remainder of her whiskey in record time, threw the bottle onto the floor and confidently made her way to the couch where he sat on.
She was swaying with each step, bumping into strangers who paid her no mind, until she finally made it to him.
"Hey." He grinned up at her, curls falling from his eyes.
Y/N said nothing as she moved closer to him and sat down on his lap.
Slash jumped a bit at the action, surprisingly way soberer than her, and looked at her with furrowed eyebrows as she placed one of her hands on his shoulder and the other on his chest. His hands instinctively fell on her thighs, but he quickly moved them to her hip bones, stopping her from moving too close to him.
"What are yo-" He began to ask, only to be cut off as Y/N glued her lips to his without hesitation.
His eyes widened to the size of billiard balls as Duff and Steven immediately cheered them on. The entire band knew Slash liked her, though he would never admit it (or so he thought; he never seemed to remember the power that alcohol held over people in love), and it was clear she liked him back, but none of them had ever taken action.
His immediate reaction was to push Y/N off. She was drunk and if he hadn't been able to tell that by the way she swayed as she got closer to the couch, he could tell either by the way she clumsily fell on his lap or by the intense flavor of alcohol on her lips.
He swore he was going to push her off, but then her tongue licked his lips and ventured inside his mouth and against his own just as her hand moved down on his body, stopping right on his dick. He moaned at the action, eyes falling closed and mind losing itself on the kiss for a bit, but then Y/N tried to rock her hips forward and he was quickly brought back to the reality that she was drunk.
"Y/N-" He spoke, pulling her hands from his body and breaking the kiss. "Stop. I think it's time you go home." He smiled tenderly at the girl, doing his best to avoid looking at her pouty, kiss-swollen lips.
"I want you." She mewled, trying to kiss him again.
Slash felt his steadily hardening dick twitch at the words and the syrupy tone in which they dripped from her lips. "C'mon, lets get you home." He stated, more to himself, and got up from the couch, steadying her on her feet and putting her left arm around his neck while his right one wrapped around her waist. He managed to get his leather jacket on his body as he helped Y/N walk.
"Look at him doing the right thing..." Duff teased, taking a swing from his bottle of vodka. He knew Slash would never take advantage of a girl as wasted as Y/N if he wasn't just as drunk, but it didn't stop him from joking.
"Shut the fuck up..."Slash groaned with a faint blush on his cheeks, walking over to Y/N's friends to let them know he was taking her home which, thankfully, was only a block away from his own.
Y/N was smaller than him and that helped a little with the task of dragging her down the street. It was quite the trip, with Y/N either giggling like mad at nothing or trying to pull him for a kiss. It really tested his willpower...
He managed to get her home and had to, very unceremoniously, shove his hand down her back pockets in order to find her keys, but he wasn't going to say he was exactly mad about that. Why would he be mad for touching her ass?
He opened the door and helped her inside, closing it behind himself a bit louder than intended. Y/N slipped from his grip and fell right on her ass in the middle of the floor, but was totally unfazed by the events, simply laying down and looking up at him with her lower lip trapped between her teeth, hooded eyes scanning him up and down.
"Why are you so hot?" She asked, giggling a little as his fingers brushed over sensitive places on her side while he picked her up again. "Like, you're so hot-" She continued, being interrupted by a hiccup. "It hurts. I get so wet just thinking about you..."
Those words left her lips right when she leaned on him, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of his neck and velvety voice dripping with filth right by his ear.
"Fuck me..." He mumbled lowly, picking her up bridal style and walking the short distance to her bathroom.
He sat her on the toilet and helped her out of her top. His eyes stopped on her breasts, considering Y/N had decided to skip the bra, but he quickly turned his head away and focused on removing the rest of her clothes.
He really loved to see her legs in leather pants, but he had never hated said article of clothing this much. He had already removed her shoes and was now left with the hard task of pulling the skin-tight pants from her body.
Y/N was not being very helpful, but it was expected. She was just sitting there, bare breasts still looking very tempting, looking down at him on his knees, in front of her, with hooded eyes.
He avoided looking up as much as he could and after many attempts, he finally managed to pull her clothes from her body. He got up from the floor and walked to her shower, leaving the water to warm up while he helped on her feet again.
"Y/N, look at me." He spoke softly, trying his hardest not to groan at the sight and feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest as soon as she tumbled forward and fell against him. "You're going to take a quick shower okay? Don't get your hair wet. Can you do that for me?" He smiled.
"You want to get me all wet for you?" She giggled seductively (well, as seductively as as someone as drunk as her could).
Slash groaned at her words. "C'mon, Y/N."
"I'll make you a deal, poodle boy." She spoke, straightening herself up, trying to sound serious. "I'll be a good girl for you and shower, if you fuck me after that."
"Okay, deal." He lied. There was no deal, much to the dismay of the rock hard dick between his legs.
Y/N grinned like a kid on Christmas morning and pulled her panties off. Slowly but less clumsily than before she got under the water and used the smaller shower head to wash herself.
As much as Slash would love to just stand there and watch her hands roam her body, he forced himself to leave the bathroom to go in search of some medicine that she always kept near her booze to help with hangovers in the morning.
He filled a glass with water and took out two pills, bringing them to her room and leaving everything on her nightstand. He then went back to her bathroom, standing by the door and waiting for her to finish.
Over a minute after she closed the water off, he heard her tumble against the wall and immediately rushed inside, finding her trying to balance herself out with her soaking feet sliding across the tiles.
He picked up her towel and wrapped it around her body, steadying her while she dried off as best as she could. Once she got herself clean enough, he picked her up again, searching his mind for the biggest turn offs so he wouldn't think about her naked body pressed against him.
He sat her down on the bed and pulled out one of the large t-shirts she always slept in, pulling it over her head. Before he allowed her to lay down under the covers, he made her drink a few sips of water.
Sleep was already taking over her body and the deal she made had slipped away from her mind, thankfully. He helped her snuggle herself under the covers and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving the room.
He didn't feel like going back to the party, especially not with his dick fully hard and nearly leaking, so he decided to sleep on her couch for the night. He flipped through channels on her TV until he found some shitty porn, settling himself for it while he pulled his dick out and let his eyes slip closed, picturing a very naked Y/N in the dirtiest scenarios he could, the high pitched moans coming from the TV helping out.
[...]
Y/N woke up that morning to a pounding head and an urge to throw up. She didn't move for the next ten minutes, allowing the urge to leave her body, and only then she carefully sat up on her mattress.
She did not remember how she got home or how she managed to take a shower, judging by the white towel left carelessly on the floor and the no longer existent sweat on her body. She turned her head to the side and saw the pills and the water on her nightstand, which led her to the conclusion that someone had taken her home and helped her out. She took them and slowly got up, trying to recollect some of her memories from the previous night (with little to no success).
She had made her way to the kitchen, the thought that whoever helped her last might still be on her home not even crossing her mind, and started to make herself some breakfast.
Slash woke up to the noise she made and sat up on the couch. Looking over to the kitchen, he found Y/N in the exact same clothes he left her last night, no more no less, while bent over her fridge to pick whatever she was looking for.
The t-shirt she was in was large, but not large enough to cover her ass if she bent like she did. Her pussy was completely exposed to him until she straightened herself, and honestly, Slash could not have asked for a better sight to wake up to.
"Morning." He greeted in his raspy morning voice, making Y/N scream and nearly drop the box of juice in her hands.
"Jesus fucking... You asshole!"
Slash laughed at her reaction, wrapping the blanket he stole last night around his waist and walking over to her. "Sorry..."
He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her reach one of her cabinets in search of a glass. "You want some?" Slash was too busy looking down at the exposed skin of her ass to notice she had spoken. "Slash?" Y/N asked, turning around to look at him.
As soon as he was no longer able to see her ass, his eyes snapped back up at her face. Hopefully, she wouldn't notice. "What?"
"You want some juice too?" She asked again.
"Sure, thank you." Slash smiled, watching her stand on her toes, her shirt riding up one more time. "I'll get it." He mumbled, reaching for the glass himself, consequently pressing his half hard dick against the side of her leg.
Y/N bit on her lower lip at the feeling, tugging slightly on her shirt to fully cover her ass. Slash blushed as he noticed her action, taking a seat on the counter and putting one of his bare feet up as well, so his hard on wouldn't be so visible.
She poured them juice in the glasses and handed him his, reaching for a box of cereal on the lower cabinet and eating bits of cereal out of the box. She was sitting on top of the table, in front of Slash, and silently extended him the box, letting him eat as well.
The awkward silence eventually melted and soon they were talking about random things, though Y/N was far less talkative than usual.
"Your head still hurts?" He asked while stuffing his mouth with cereal.
Y/N rolled his eyes at his behavior, containing the soft smile that threatened to settle itself on her lips. "Yeah. Not as bad as I thought it would though."
"I'm glad." He smiled at her.
[...]
Slash spent the entire day lazing around with her. Shortly after breakfast, Y/N had put on shorts but while they covered her pussy, they did little to nothing to cover her ass. Not that he minded of course.
He watched a bit of TV while Y/N took a nap in her bed and around noon she got up and they ordered pizza. During the afternoon, they played a few board games that Y/N owned.
While she played, her mind was trying to create a timeline for last night's events. After her nap a few memories had come back to her and all of them had her moving her eyes away from Slash.
She remembered glimpses of the night. The first one was a close up of Slash's face with his eyes wide. The second one was of her face buried in his curls while he carried her somewhere. She remembered being naked -or almost- and being pressed up right against him and also remembered him carrying her to her room and then helping her onto the shirt she currently wore, but nothing after that.
Did they do something that she didn't remember?
When she had gone to the bathroom shortly before the pizza arrived, she had found last night's clothes on the floor, but all of Slash's were in the living room, which could mean that they weren't naked "together". That did not eliminate the chance that they had sex, but it was something.
"You're thinking too loud, Y/N." Slash joked, throwing one of the dices they were using to play in her direction.
"Sorry." She chuckled, shaking her head as if trying to get rid of her thoughts.
"What were you thinking about?" He asked while she played, nudging her leg with his foot.
"Oh, just about the party. Nothing important." She assured with a soft smile.
"What about it?"
Y/N hesitated for a bit, nibbling on her lower lip. "We didn't... We..." She stuttered, not sure about what to ask exactly. "What happened last night?"
Slash sensed her hesitation and smiled reassuringly at her. "You had a lot to drink. Out of nowhere you came up to me and sat down on my lap..." He spoke, holding a chuckle as he saw her hide her blush. "And then you kissed me."
"Oh my God..." She mumbled hiding her face in her hands.
"If it helps, that was not the worst part..."
Her head shot up and her eyes widened. "What?!"
"I brought you home and when I was taking you to your bathroom you told me you got really wet thinking about me, after asking me why I was so hot." He said sheepishly, knowing she was mortified by her own actions. A weird feeling made his heart ache.
Was all of that a drunk urge?
"Then I helped you undress and told you to shower, and you asked me if I wanted to get you all wet for me. And then agreed to be a good girl for me if I fucked you after you showered." He said, wanting to be fully honest with her.
Slash had never seen a blush so deep on someone's cheeks until this day.
"I'm so sorry..." She whispered, barely able to speak through the embarrassment. "I... I wasn't thinking..."
"Hey." He spoke, reaching a hand out for her when he noticed tears pooling on her eyes. "It's okay, Y/N."
She hastily cleaned her eyes before any tears spilled but kept her head lowered. A suffocating silence fell upon them, no one sure about what to say or do.
The same question he asked himself a little over a minute ago echoed again in his head. He needed an answer.
"Did you... Did you do all that just because you were drunk?"
Y/N looked up at him. He wasn't exactly avoiding her eyes, but it was clear that he was uncomfortable. "What?"
"All of the things you did and said... Did you do them just because you were drunk or was it something... that you thought about in other moments?" He tried his best to explain.
If anyone else had asked her about this, she would have lied and said it was purely a drunk urge. But this was Slash. She had never lied to him, partially because she didn't want to, partially because she literally couldn't. She wanted to be true to him at all times, no matter how embarrassing or sad or whatever it was for her.
Despite that, she could not speak. Her brain refused to form a coherent sentence. 
So she acted instead of speaking.
She crawled around her coffee table and sat by his side. With shaky hands, she cupped his cheeks and turned his face to her, joining their lips in a soft, shy kiss.
Slash had been longing for her lips from the minute they left his own at the party. He didn't hesitate to pull her closer, helping her pass one of her legs over his body and straddle him.
His hands moved down her side and to the small of her back, keeping her body flush against his as her tongue entered his mouth and rolled softly against his.
During the day, it hadn't even crossed his mind to put on his clothes, so all that separated them were her flimsy clothes and his thin sheet. That thought made his dick get harder faster that it had previously been doing, and it only got worse as she tangled her hands in his hair and began to softly rut her hips.
They could both feel the lust pooling inside their bodies, a hot fire burning deep in their abdomen. Slash's hands got more adventurous and moved under her shirt, once again feeling her soft skin under his calloused fingertips. Her own had wandered lower down his body, short nails lightly scraping against stomach.
Her hips began to pick up speed, making the soft fabric of the sheet move against his now fully hard cock.
"Y/N..." He moaned softly, breaking the kiss and hiding his face on her neck, groping her ass and helping her move. Slash had thought that when she changed clothes she had put on underwear and well, but he now realized that she didn't. "Forgot your panties?" He joked, leaving a soft bite on her neck.
"Slash..." She breathed out, doing her bet to pull the sheet away from his body and free his cock.
He got her clue and picked her up, walking the short distance to her couch and placing her down on it, pulling the blanket away from his body. Y/N was going to pull off her clothes, but Slash stopped her.
"Don't take 'em off..." He said, pulling her shorts to the side. The piece of clothing was small but thankfully loose, so it easily gave him access to her wet core.
"Fuck me, Slash... C'mon." She moaned, looking at him with lust blow pupils.
He pushed himself inside her in one smooth thrust, groaning at the warmth of her pussy around him. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist in instinct, but he brought them up to his shoulders and stroked the skin of her thighs. Her hands held on to the pillow behind her, lips parted and letting out short breaths.
"You good?" He asked, desperate to move.
"Yeah. Fuck me, come on..." She urged, clenching down on him voluntarily and locking her gaze with his.
He groaned at the sudden tightness and set a harsh pace, pulling all the way to the tip then fucking back strongly into her, hitting her g-spot with scary precision. Her breasts accompanied the thrusts, the shape created by them on her t-shirt driving Slash up the walls.
"You're so hot, Y/N." He moaned, gripping her thighs tightly and picking up his speed. "Fucking wish you could see yourself, baby..."
Y/N, however, was pretty happy with her own view. She loved the sight of Slash's hands on her thighs and the feeling of his bare abs hitting her legs as he slammed into her, low groans and moans leaving his parted lips. His eyes were darker than usual, looking down at her with such an intense stare that it made her insides burn harder.
"Rub your clit for me..." He moaned, moving his hands to her waist and slightly lifting her up, pushing himself even deeper inside her.
She shoved one of her hands down her shorts and began rubbing circles on her clit, making her moans get higher in pitch and frequency, soon overpowering the sound of his hips snapping against her body.
Her orgasm was getting closer and closer, and the sight of Slash throwing his head back as she clenched down on him was definitely a great fuel.
His own orgasm was close too, his cock twitching inside her with each thrust, his body eagerly chasing release like an animal in heat.
"Fuck, Slash... I'm close..." She moaned, arching her back, which made the shape of her breasts get even more defined on her shirt.
"Cum on my dick, Y/N... Fucking do it..." He groaned, thrusting as fast and hard as he could.
Her fingers matched his speed and soon her orgasm was crashing down on her. Her legs shook violently against his body, her pussy becoming impossibly tight and the rest of her body freezing up as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her.
Slash held himself back, letting her ride out her high before getting to his own. It was a hard thing to do, but as soon as he felt her body grow limp against his he was moving her legs to the sides of his body and pulling out, wrapping his hand around himself.
"Where?" He asked between moans, watching her pull her hand from her clit and then pulling her shorts to the side, exposing her pussy.
"Coat it with your cum, Slash, please..." She breathed out, watching him release rope after rope of cum on top of her pussy, some of it landing on her clothes.
The warm liquid made its way between her already slick folds, the feeling of it absolutely sinful. Slash watched with hungry eyes as it coated her fluttering entrance, mixing with her own juices and continuing to slide lower and lower.
She reached for his hands and pulled him down for a kiss, humming against his lips as his tongue ventured inside her mouth and rubbed softly against her own.
He reached for the sheet that was thrown on the floor by their side to clean off their bodies, not breaking the kiss, and then rested his body on top of hers, gently cupping the side of her left breast on his hand and just stroking it.
"Stay over again?" She suggested, breaking the kiss for a few seconds.
"Why not?" He smirked, kissing her again.
------
Thank you so much for reading. Likes, reblogs, comments and any kind of way you show me you liked this are endlessly appreciated💛
Requests are closed.
Taglist: @curly-hudson​; @agroupiewhore; @littlemisscare-all​
Thank you @dustnbones​ for beta-reading💛
432 notes · View notes
sooniesspot · 3 years
Text
Fluff Drabbles
☁️ Namjoon Fluff ☁️
A/N: I just really wanted soft joonie 😣 imagine coming home to him after a horrible day 🤧
word count: 2.3k?
no warnings just super soft and sweet joonie
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"bad day, sweet?"
After a long day at work, all you wanted was to get home. You promised your boss you’d stay late and finish paperwork that needed to be sent out first thing in the morning. Leaving the building after 7pm you waited on the corner at your normal bus stop, awaiting the bus. Rain heavily pouring down around you, luckily sheltered by the canopy of the bus stop. Of all days, you had forgotten your umbrella. Waiting for the bus after 10 minutes, the clock ticking. You finally saw a bus in sight and you held out your arm for it to stop. It began to pull into the layby and you misjudged the distance from you to the curb. A tidal wave of water cascaded over you, soaking your clothes through. You blinked heavily, wiping your eyes. So you could see your way onto the bus. Handing over your ticket to the bus driver; already rushing you onto the bus.
You found a seat and sat there. Clothes sopping wet and hair dripping wet. Your skin, cold to the touch from the water. Fishing for your phone in your coat pocket to check any damage as you slung your bag onto the empty seat next to you with a huff. Only a few water droplets on the screen you smudged away; creating a waterline. A flash of your phone screen shone before the screen went black; signalling the phone dying. You grumbled to yourself, wishing this day would be over. That morning you had managed to spill your bosses coffee down your white blouse and almost broke your ankle walking on freshly mopped floor as you headed past the janitor on your way out of the building. Could this day get any worse? You thought to yourself as you gazed out of the window to the busy streets outside. Night drawing in as the sun set behind the clouds.
Your stop couldn’t come soon enough as you stepped off the bus not bothering to thank the rude bus driver as you walked awkwardly along the street towards your apartment block. Rounding the corner your apartment block came to light. Crossing the street you opened the door and made your way over to the lift. ‘Out of Order’ you whined as you turned to use the stairs. Travelling up 3 flights of stairs, pulling yourself along. Eventually reaching your apartment. Fumbling for your key in your oversized bag that was now porous from the typhoon of water you received at the bus stop. You groaned in annoyance before finally finding them at the bottom.
Putting the key in the lock the door swung open to reveal your dimpled boyfriend, in an old grey hoodie and gym shorts, barefoot and mussed hair looking down at you with a smile before it faltered. Taking in your ‘drowned rat’ appearance. He beckoned you in, quickly shutting the door behind you before pulling your bag off your shoulder and peeling off your coat. He looked back down at you, his dusty blonde hair falling onto his forehead slightly as burnt umber eyes stared through you; sparkling. He looked at you in endless wonder. You never failed to take his breath away. Even when your clothes were translucent and hung off you in heavy collections of water. Even though your makeup may have run slightly across your cheeks, your hair darker than usual due to the water. He still looked at you with that same sparkle in his eye. He looked at you and instantly felt at ease. You calmed his racing heart, that raced because of you in the first place. An endless cycle he had committed to memory in every waking moment spent with you.
The way you would scurry around the apartment when you were late for work. The way you danced to your own tune stuck in your head in the kitchen when you made your first coffee of the day. Even in the early morning light, your body tangled in the sheets amongst his, glazed eyes would open and look so lovingly up at his own he felt his heart could burst. He loved you, and he hated seeing you upset.
A strong hand speared through your hair, pulling wet strands off your face.
“Bad day, sweet?” he mumbled, voice rich and deep.
You whimpered with a nod before he pulled you into an embrace. His chin resting on your head as his arms pulling you against his chest; hands rubbing against your back.
“Oh, you’re cold.” He pulled you tighter. You managed to attach your arms around his waist, thankful for the comfort he brought after a long day. His hands began wringing out your hair of excess water and that made you chuckle lightly as you heard it pool to the floor. You Inhaled his scent; old books and pine trees. A hint of burning that was new to you. Setting off a curious tone.
“Joonie?” you rasped against his chest, trying to breathe.
He hummed in reply to you, not wanting to let you go just yet as he held you to his chest, in fear you’d float away in the drizzle of the rain outside.
“Are you cooking?” you asked.
His arms immediately retracting as he hopped into the kitchen at a million miles an hour muttering curse words and the like. Taking off your heels you followed him with shaky feet watching a billow of steam from a saucepan on the stove. Namjoon turned to you with a bashful look. Melanated skin-tinged pink at his cheeks and neck.
“I made dinner.” He cringed; stroking the back of his neck with his free hand. The other hand holding a saucepan with burnt ramen in.
You chuckled as you made your way over to him slowly; kissing him lightly on the lips. “You mean you burnt dinner.” You giggled as his blush grew a deeper shade of crimson.
You took the saucepan from him beginning to hobble over to the sink and dispose of the burnt ramen when he noticed. You felt hands on your forearms as he spun you around taking the saucepan and placing it on the worktop.
“What happened with your foot?” He questioned, earning a sheepish look from you.
So you told him about your day. The coffee, paperwork, the wet floor, the bus, your phone dying and having to take the stairs on a worsening ankle. Hearing you grumble he didn’t once interrupt you or laugh, although when you told him about the puddle you could see the corner of his mouth trying to turn up into a smile. He listened and that’s all you could ever ask of him. He was so considerate you honestly didn’t know what you had done to deserve him. He gave you a final nod and caressed your wet hair again, pressing a kiss to your forehead when suddenly he had swept you off your feet, quite literally.
He carried you bridal style into the bathroom. Placing you delicately on the side as he ran you a bath. Softly humming to himself, making sure to fill it with lots of bubbles and make sure the water wasn’t too hot. He helped you out of your soaking wet clothes and told you he would sort out the mess in the kitchen while you soaked in the bath and that is what you did. He took your drenched clothes and placed then in the wash while he cooked another batch of ramen. ‘The food would be safe because you can’t distract him in here.’ He had said before you challenged him with a suggestive eyebrow, gesturing to yourself in the bath. Abruptly he turned and left, your laugh echoing down the hallway after him.
You lay your head back on the edge of the bath and welcomed the feeling of warm water on your skin, stopping your teeth from chattering intermittently from the cold you were subject to outside. Your ankle already feeling much better as it got to soak in the water, not having to bear any weight on it. You liked moments like this. Moments alone to sit and relax, eyes steadily shutting until the door opened again, Namjoon peering in, a warm towel in his hands as he placed it on the side of the tub.
“Ramen is done.” He smiled before. “Not burnt.”
Sarcastically giving him a round of applause he rolled his eyes at you with a scoff.
“Let’s wash your hair first.” He mumbled, planting a kiss onto your forehead.
So wash your hair he did. Fingers massaged your scalp as he lathered the shampoo through your hair. Making sure to not get any in your eyes, never resisting a kiss on the tip of your nose or your forehead when you’d look back up at him. A sigh of contentment sounded through the bathroom.
All washed and bundled up in a warm towel with an extra one wrapping up your hair, Namjoon insisted on carrying you back through to your shared bedroom although you said that you could manage. But he protested. Like he always did.
“My baby has hurt her foot. I’m carrying her.”
You huffed but were secretly loving being held like this by your boyfriend. He helped dry and dress you, even drying your hair with the dryer. He would hum to you as he did so and finally, he grabbed a cool pack from the freezer along with bandages and the 2 bowls of ramen and successfully bandaged your ankle up with the cool pack against the swollen area. Grabbing his bowl from the bedside table after tucking you both into bed.
“You can bandage an ankle but you burn ramen.” You giggled as he gave you a pout shovelling ramen into his mouth.
Laughter overtaking you at the notion. It was just so him.
“I love you for that.” You planted a kiss against his pouty lips and he grinned, dimples on show as you both continued to eat.
“I love you too, sweet.” He ran his fingers through your hair before giving you a kiss to your lips.
Continuing to eat in comfortable silence, gentle pitter pattering of rain outside the window that made you grimace. He noticed your discomfort and gave you a reassuring smile.
“You’re taking the day off tomorrow.” He pointed at you.
You began to chastise him until he reasoned with you.
“You can’t get the bus and walk to work with a swollen ankle, baby.”
You knew he was right so you decided not to argue. Finishing your ramen you both went to brush your teeth. He insisted on giving you a piggy back, to this you laughed. Finding your reflection in the bathroom mirror thoroughly amusing as you both brushed your teeth; you still perched on his broad and muscular back. He watched through the mirror. His frame holding your tiny one on his back. Toothbrush in your mouth as you giggled; music to his ears. Trying not to slip down his clothed back as his one arm still gripped your thigh firmly; holding you still. He had given you one of his shirts that dwarfed you, legs bare and smooth against his skin. Feeling your heartbeat against his back was all the reassurance he ever needed. Your hearts beating as one. A dimpled smile flashed your way in the mirror once teeth were clean. You ventured back into the bedroom as your breathing tickled his neck, both of you erupting into giggles as he struggled to hold onto you; knees buckling at the sensation. Finally dropping you down on the bed softly making you bounce.
Turning to tuck you in. Clambering over on his side of the bed, shifting under the covers. He smiled after reaching for his glasses, now on the edge of his nose; book in hand. Planting one more kiss on your lips and then your forehead as you shuffled down the bed more, resting your head against his chest; an arm curled around your shoulders as he began to read aloud. Soft hand caressing your hair as you were cradled around him. Hearing his heartbeat against your ear. Lulled to sleep dulcet tones. You were thankful for your boyfriend. He could always make a bad day better.
© sunnysidejoon - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
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Love Always
Mac 🧡💜
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