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woncon · 2 days ago

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➳ sick duty.

➶ poly!ateez x gn!reader (yungisang focus) ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ Yunho is sick, and you and Yeosang are on sick duty. When the others still haven't arrived with jelly, you decide to go to the nearest shop in the raging storm and buy some, because Yunho really wants them.

➴ genre: slice of life, sickfic, estabilished relationship, polyamory, non-idol!au

: ̗̀➛ warnings: poor yunho has a fever, one sexually suggestive offer, petnames, nudity

⌨ :: 3.5K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ This idea came to me when I saw a double rainbow in early June while listening to Golden Hour Pt1. It was supposed to play in the summer, but I never got to the end. Now autumn came and I decided to write it. But in this rainy, gloomy weather it seemed better to set it in a more autumnal setting. That changed my basic idea a lot, but I'm happy with it as it is.

⁀➷ My lovely @wonsheep, I'm still sorry the rain poured on you so heavily on Wednesday. :( But it was very motivating, as you can see. Many thanks for reading through the story and founding my silly mistakes!

➳ mlist

I'm hot.

I want tea.

I'm cold.

The sickly season of the autumn-winter months spares no one. Yunho, who is hard to dislodge from whatever well-endowed giraffe's legs he has, is now curled up in the middle of the bed, disconsolate because he didn't pull on a thick enough scarf, or was carelessly underdressed in the living room, or simply spent too much time around a co-worker who has been lurking with some virus. Whichever the case, the poor guy is in a terrible mood.

"I want medicine," he whispers his next wish.

You look at your watch.

“One more hour before you can take the next one,” you say, brushing his hair away to touch his sweat beaded forehead. It's still as warm as underfloor heating.

Frustrated, he rolls to the side and buries his head fully into the pillow. You drop your hands back into your lap, helpless. It's simply exasperating to watch him suffer, to listen to his snotty, ragged breathing mix with the rain beating against the window.

“Do you want something to help?” you ask, when he turns to you again and raises his feverish eyes to you. The skin around his nose is flushed from all the blowing.

“Jelly.”

Yunho is convinced that jelly sweets can help him. Or at least when he's sick, he likes to eat sweets. Other times, not so much. Unfortunately, you guys weren't prepared for Yunho being sick in the near future. Plus, there's a storm brewing, the kind you haven't seen in a long time. It's been raining steadily for a week now, sometimes more, sometimes less. The others went to do the shopping with the car, leaving Yunho behind with the promise to bring him some jelly. He responded with a small, grateful smile.

Now, looking at his tortured expression, you would give a lot to see that smile again, the hope in his eyes. You reach out and take his hand. You sigh. Gently, slowly, you caress the back of his hand, knowing how sensitive he is to touch when he has a fever. You don't want to overdo it and hurt him, but at the same time you want to let him know physically that you're there for him.

"It's on the way." You really hope it is. The last time Jongho called, they were already at the checkout. Your youngest friend boasted that they were bringing five full bags of jelly beans. That was about twenty minutes ago. No news since then. It bothers you that you can't offer an immediate solution to Yunho's every wish.

Before Yunho can ask any more questions, the door opens. Yeosang arrives with a tray holding a steaming mug and something wrapped in napkins that you can't identify yet. With cautious steps, he moves to the other side of the bed among some discarded clothes - because Yunho didn't want to shower this morning, just threw everything off the bed he'd chosen as his regular place - and then takes a seat, placing the tray safely on the bedside table, gently moving Seonghwa's half-finished book.

“I've brought the tea," he says to Yunho. "And I found some biscuits to go with it."

Interested, the patient moves up on the pillow, but still looks vulnerable. Yeosang holds the cup in his hand and gives the man small sips. Meanwhile, you get up and gather up the laundry strewn around the bed and take it to the bathroom. On the way, you hear a conversation emanating from the kitchen, from which you hear the word 'jelly bean' clearly spoken at one point. So after throwing the laundry in the hamper, you go to the kitchen instead of the bedroom. The room is filled with the smell of hot water and tea leaves. Mingi is putting away the tea ingredients. The call is already finished, his phone is on the counter.

Originally, Mingi wouldn’t be on sick duty today. Today's subordinates are you and Yeosang, Mingi just didn't want to leave the apartment in this crazy weather and he’s helping you instead. It's not like this sick duty thing is strict in your relationship, and it's set in stone that Mingi can only nurse Yunho on Mondays and Fridays and holidays or anything. That said, there are rules. For example, Mingi usually only needs one nurse when he gets a cold or something more serious, but at such times it is Yunho for most of the time. Then there's Jongho, who, if he falls ill, no matter what the schedule, has all eight of you at his disposal twenty-four hours a day. Or, again, there's Seonghwa, who hides the fact that he's sick until it's too obvious, and you're all freaking out as to why he won't let you take care of him.

Yunho usually hardly gets sick. When he does, even a mild cold will get him down. And when he is ill, he's even fussier than the sick Wooyoung, and only one lover has a hard time coping with his demands. Usually two people are enough to care for him if there are jelly beans nearby. Which, for now, there aren’t.

“Are they on their way home?” you ask Mingi, who's packing honey.

"It's worse downtown than here," he says. "The traffic's bad. They're just moving towards home inch by inch."

You both look out of the window, and the tapping of the rain remains as unrelenting as the fever that plagues Yunho.

“Is the tea to his liking?”

“I'm sure of it,” you smile at him. Mingi is usually insecure when it comes to Yunho's well-being. You suspect that the boy's illness was a more significant reason for Mingi to stay home than his desire not to get wet. “But you can ask him.”

You return to the bedroom with Mingi at your side. You remind yourself that this room now functions as a ward. The patient is huddled near the edge of the bed, munching on biscuits soaked in tea, so that they don't scratch his throat.

“It's not jelly,” he mutters, then pulls away from Yeosang and lies back on the upholstered cushions.

You look at Yeosang. Your theory is that you're thinking the exact same thing. If jelly beans are the only thing that helps your boyfriend, you'll do anything to get them. You're even willing to go to the convenience store in the pouring rain, because when you are on sick duty, Yunho mustn't lack anything.

"We'll go and get jelly beans," you say. Yeosang nods his head in commitment.

“We'll go?” Mingi looks terrified. “All of us?”

You can't leave Yunho alone in this state. It's a good thing that Mingi is here, in addition to Yeosang and you, ready for action, and not stuck in traffic with the others downtown.

“No. You stay here with Yunho and look after him.”

Mingi continues to blink.

“We'll be quick, don't worry, you don't have to multitask. Yuyu will probably fall asleep soon.”

"It's not me I'm worried about," he protests, "You'll get wet and cold."

"The store is not far away. We won't have enough time in the rain to freeze to death."

Yeosang wraps Yunho in a blanket and kisses him on the head.

"Mingi?" The man folded in a burrito addresses the worried individual.

“Yes?”

“Gimme a hug.”

Mingi doesn't resist, but climbs onto the bed, swapping places with Yeosang, who pats his shoulder as he passes. Before you even leave the room, you hear Mingi apologize and ask for Yunho's forgiveness.

Yeosang sticks the umbrella out the door. Just a little to test how much it rains. There's really barely any surface out, but the wind immediately grabs it and tugs it further. He pulls it back in time before the umbrella swings out or the wind wins, and you close the door with a great struggle, which also wants to jump off its hinges from the violent gusts of wind.

“I think this will stay here,” Yeosang says, and then drops the solid black umbrella behind you.

You zip up your raincoat. It occurs to you that maybe Mingi is right, and you're so wet you'll get stuck in a puddle of icy water. Yet the idea doesn't discourage you, doesn't make you stay, because Yunho needs the jellies.

Yeosang adjusts his hood, then holds out his hand. You embrace him tightly. You check your wallet stashed in the waterproof pocket one last time and place your hand on the doorknob. Then you push it down. The door swings open, and you let it drag you along with it. The back of your coat gets soaked immediately. The rain doesn't fall, it instead pours down from behind in a wave with the wind. Clinging on to Yeosang in vain, it's hard to keep up your own pace and not lurch forward like a rag doll. It's a wonder your boyfriend can close the door.

Although the shop is indeed a block away, at this time it feels like you're wandering for eternity. For one thing, the scenery is completely different in the rain, it's harder to navigate, especially in the raging, commanding wind. Around one corner, Yeosang has to pull you in, because out of nowhere a car appears, its wheels gallantly splashing a full puddle onto the pavement.

Somehow, you do reach the store. As soon as the automatic door closes behind you, the storm is out of the way. Inside, the weather is pleasant. Only the clothes clinging to your skin and the small puddles and mud stains on the floor left by other shoppers are reminders of what a doomsday is happening outside.

“Huh,” you sigh in relief. The first game of the war against weather is over. You only have one more to go to succeed in the jelly bean mission.

“We're crazy," Yeosang shakes his head in disbelief. Then he smiles up at you, sweetly and lovingly, because he's proud you're crazy. You return it.

Insanity is part of sick duty to some extent. Last time San must have used up thirty tissues a day, and ran out in the middle of the week. Hongjoong ran so fast to replace the used-up packets that he was almost hit by a truck. And when you were sick and craving nothing but a mug of hot tomato soup when all the shops were closed and there were no tomatoes at home, only ketchup... Well, Jongho tried.

You purposefully seek out sweets. Luckily, you don't have to wander around and scout the place, you'll often find yourself here. You take off two bags of Yunho's favourite flavour, sour apple. You remember again how pitiful your otherwise healthy and cheerful boyfriend looks.

“This will help him,” Yeosang says encouragingly, as if he's reading your mind.

You nod, then head for the cashier. You get in line. From here, you can see the window and the rain pouring down.

For the first time since the jelly bean plan was born, you have time to think about Mingi's excuse when he cuddled up to Yunho. It's my fault. I'm sorry. But how could it be his fault that Yunho caught a cold?

You're rewinding the previous two weeks. Yunho was in home office the whole time. He really enjoyed it, and when he wasn't working, he was playing video games. He didn't put his foot out until one time when he had to pop down to the shop for something. It didn't rain so heavily that day, just a gentle drizzle. Maybe Mingi had taken off Yunho's blanket one night? It couldn't be, either, because they'd been sleeping far apart lately.

It's your turn, so you suspend your musings. When you get back, you'll ask Mingi and hope it's not too embarrassing for him not to tell you. If he feels guilty, you could help him and reassure him that it's not his fault.

You and Yeosang pay. You put the bags in your coat pockets. You pull the hood up, not that it matters. You cling together again, then step out onto the soggy pavement.

The way back is harder. This time the wind brings the rain from the front. Each blast smacks you in the face. Neither of your hoods can stay up. Your hair gets wet, the rain drips under your coat. You successfully step into a puddle, literally splashing in the muddy water, and the inside of your boots get soaked. You're wet everywhere, from your elbows to your toes. It's really annoying, but you don't falter, clutching Yeosang's arm until you reach the sheltering door of your home to drop in like two wet rags on the threshold and with a combined effort you shut out the cold, ominous wind. Yeosang slides along the door, his hair leaving a wet streak on the wooden panel.

“We did it,” he sighs, and proudly rattles one of the jelly beans he pulls out of his pocket. The bag is intact, of course.

“We did,” you agree, and pull him up off the ground.

Suddenly you're faced with the problem of not knowing what to take off first because everything is equally soaked. It's almost as if your clothes are the cool part of your skin, plus outer layers. Finally, following your boyfriend's example, you throw your coat on the floor first, then your shoes on the doormat, and socks after.

Before you reach for the next layer of clothing, there is the sound of footsteps. You think Mingi is coming, but when he sighs, you realize it's not your tall lover.

“You guys are adorable and dedicated, but silly at the same time," says Hongjoong with crossed arms.

“But at least Yunho’s jellies will hold out until he heals,” answers Yeosang, taking off his shirt.

“When did you arrive?” you ask.

“About a minute ago. But we'll talk later. Now go take a shower before you too end up feverishly next to Yunho,” Hongjoong advises, then retreats and San steps forward. He unconcealedly runs his eyes over Yeosang's naked torso, and yours, which still has your shirt stuck to it, rather tightly, so it might even be useless.

“If you get sick, I'll be on sick duty every day. The thing is, the adorable, dedicated, silly people are just my type” he winks.

“Move over, Sanie," Wooyoung appears and nudges the other one in the side, "You promised to help hyung pack up.”

San hums and walks away, but still smiles in your direction. You all love to oblige Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and that goes for when there's an opportunity to flirt as well.

“You two are sexy, all wet,” Wooyoung admits. “If you need help with the shower, let me know. I'll be within earshot.”

“We'll consider it,” you promise. Wooyoung nods with a grin, and he also retreats to the kitchen.

You pass through the hallway, but before you can go to the bathroom, Jongho stands in front of you with a plate of jelly beans. “Here. I thought you should be the ones to give it to him. You made a greater sacrifice, and most of us stayed dry. Except for Hwa hyung, who opened the door and held the umbrella.”

“Thank you,” you say at the same time. While Yeosang takes the bowl, you press a kiss on Jongho's cheek.

When you retire to the bedroom, the scene is quite cozy. Yunho is in bed, hugging Mingi, craving jelly beans, and you offer him what he craves most, and what you fought Mother Nature for.

“We got it,” you report.

Yunho snaps his head up. The mere hope brings life to his sick features. You stand by the bed, careful not to get rainwater on it.

“Here, hyung," Yeosang hands the bowl to him in a soft whisper.

“I hope you weren’t too desperate, baby. We hurried as much as we could.”

“You're the best," says Yunho, touched, between bites. “I love you.”

“We love you too, giant baby. Very much,” you assure him.

And he smiles up at you. The mission is a complete success. Whether all that time and getting soaked was enough to put you to bed remains to be seen. In the meantime, you bask in success.

Mingi sneezes. Then he reaches under the pillow and takes out a handkerchief. “My throat may be a tiny bit scratchy.”

“Should we set up someone on sick duty for you too?” Yeosang offers readily.

“Our poor boyfriends,” you sigh, watching them. Yunho in the midst of illness, Mingi as he probably slips into a state of flux.

“I deserve it,” murmurs Mingi, looking ruefully at Yunho.

“Why do you think so?” you ask the question that has been nagging at you for a good twenty minutes.

“When we ran out of milk last week, Yunho and I went to the grocery store... I offered to make out with him in the rain. It didn't rain much, and there was no wind. Still, that's how Yunho got cold.”

"Come on," the other protests hoarsely. He sucks on a jelly bean with great enthusiasm. You wouldn't believe he can taste it. “You offered, I agreed, I could have said no, but I didn't. All in all, it was worth it.”

“Worth it?” Yeosang raises his eyebrows. “You were dying before the jelly arrived.”

"If you haven't kissed Mingi in the rain, you won't understand," he declares, then turns to Mingi. “Want a jelly, princess?

Yeosang and you leave them alone, let them romance each other in the infirmary. Barefoot, you stomp off to the bathroom. You open the door, and a thick, fragrant steam rises from the room. A pleasant warm breeze reminds you how cold you are. You hurry inside. Yeosang closes the door to keep the comforting steam from escaping.

Seonghwa is already drying his hair and got dressed. You look at him expectantly, ready to be reprimanded. But he has no such plans. He takes your face with one hand and Yeosang's with the other. “I am proud of you. Take a bath, then we can watch a movie. We made a whole list while we were stuck in traffic.”

Yeosang hums, you nod in response. Good idea. At this time of year, there's no point in doing anything other than curling up on the sofa together.

You bask in Seonghwa's soft touch until the last moment, and the knowledge that he's proud of you. It's really enjoyable to play good cop, bad cop with Hongjoong, and they don’t scold you twice. Regardless, you need to figure out a way to cheer up that boyfriend of yours who called you adorable, dedicated, and silly all at the same time.

“So he probably caught it while kissing,” you acknowledge what you've heard by tugging your trousers down after Seonghwa has left you alone.

“Interesting.”

“And understandable. Sounds romantic.”

“Do you want to go back?” Yeosang glances up at you as he pulls towels out of the closet. The look in his eyes is willing. It embarrasses you to know that he would take a single word from you and go back with you into the pouring rain to fulfill that desire.

“I wouldn’t do it in this weather. But, for example, standing in a cool summer drizzle, refreshing after the heat. When me and my partner won’t be so likely to have a fever for a week.”

“Last summer Woo did it with someone. I think it was with Sanie, but I'm not sure. Maybe he caught Hongjoong hyung in a moment of weakness.”

“Really? Is it fashionable to kiss in the rain in our relationship?”

“A bit.” Yeosang undresses completely.

Your hand is over the laundry basket, you've dropped the last of your clothes in it, yet you don't move. You’re looking at Yeosang. At his naked back, how rainwater is dripping from his hair, onto his delicate muscles. The line of his shoulder blades as his back narrows, ending in the lovely hips you'd hold in your hands for days. And of course you can't neglect his ass or his thighs or his whole being, because once you start looking at him, one part of him is not enough, and the whole of him is overwhelmingly wonderful.

He turns back to you. “Are you coming?”

“Sure.” You follow him into the bath. You take his face in the palm of your hand and kiss him on the lips. “Wooyoung was right.”

“About what?”

"You're sexy when you're wet," you explain, and at the same time you probably reveal that you were just staring at him.

"He didn't just say that to me, love," he replies, pulling you close. Then he opens the water. The warm, soothing drops fall on your head and drip down your chilled skin. Like rain.

“I have an idea. Let's kiss here like it's raining.”

“Oh,” Yeosang smiles sweetly. His thumb caresses your cheek. “Okay.”

And you shower until the hot water runs out.

#ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #poly ateez x reader #poly ateez #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #seonghwa x reader #gender neutral y/n #ateez fluff #ateez ot8 #poly kpop

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scionsthings · 14 hours ago

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You utilized the exact same words i used with a friend when i was talking about this with them. I'm a very analytical person I don't put two man ( or any other couple actually ) together just because they are sexy and im not delulu, like i can tell when the story mean something or not, of course if I want to ship it i ship it in any case, but I'm mature enough to understand if something is meant or not because i do care about the canon events especially if they are well narrated. I saw this thing they have at the very first time, from act 1 Season 1 to act 3 Season 2 and Jayce's relationship with Mel actually helped me, who watched the series as an aroace person so i don't really know personally how love works lol, to understand what Jayce truly wanted. It was so, so obvious for me in Season 1 and Season 2 just confirmed Jayce's feelings, because the character himself realized them. He loved Mel, but because Mel is a Mirror, she reflects other people desires she...she was the reflection of Viktor. Jayce saw something of Viktor in her. These are not the eyes of someone in love who believes in their partner

And I choose these screenshots not to negate the fact Jayce felt genuine attraction for Mel (as i already said) but because these moments are moments of "tenderness" with your partner. But why are you so..distant? It's because Jayce unconsciously knew that Mel is not Viktor and she'll never could be but he still cares about her. And..well THESE are the eyes of someone in love, who believes in their partner knowing they want to stay by their side, for eternity at this point. Look how Jayce shines, AND in the very first time you can see the emotions in his eyes just talking to a stranger. Viktor gives him hope. Those eyes are so so intense when he's look at him

And the feeling is mutual, but Viktor is more subtle because he was so stucked on the belief he wasn't worth it...And then happened what happened. But even after all of that Jayce is here to remind him he's the most beautiful creature in the world in every sense possible, and he believed in him till the end. I really know what brotherly soulmates mean, it's like as you and another person were born from the same ovum, that strong connection between two twins and this is definitely NOT the case They are partners Science Partners Partners in crime Partners in love, with the difference their love it's expressed differently from simple kisses and carnal passion, they loves in their unique way that's why their relationship is so BEAUTIFUL There was no Kiss, not an "I love you" because those things are so..bland if you compare them to everything else, the touches, Jayce's words as you arleady said OP

And this for me, as for you OP, this makes Jayvik CANON And never won't change my mind because the voice actors believed in it. The animation team believed in it, because they showed us EXACTLY this type of love.

I know I'm most definitely not the first one to talk about this but truly I believe that if queer people identify with a ship/character then that makes them queer.

That being said, Viktor and Jayce are most definitely queer to me. Their love definitely defies the bounds of any normal "romantic" or "platonic" relationship and that in itself is inherently queer. Defying societies expectations of a given role, like, how is that not queer?

It genuinely baffles me that it's claimed they're "brotherly" because there are WAYS to code brotherly dynamics, or really close friends, without romantic undertones at all! That's possible, and those relationships are present in arcane! So why is it that Jayce and Viktor feels so queer? because they fucking are! You have to think, one person who worked on arcane does not define a relationship that has been worked on by a shit ton of other people. Their relationship is queer coded even if unintentional, it is there. and when characters are queer coded, they ARE queer.

Jayces confession was such a beautiful way to show his love for Viktor, they don't have to kiss, or explicitly say "love" for that to be the implication. It's there. half the people who watched that scene thought they were going to kiss. there's a reason for that! I hate pulling out the argument "what if one of them was a woman?" but sometimes you genuinely have to use that argument because SO many people would be on board if Jayce or Viktor was a woman and the other was a man.

Jayce is genuinely so devoted to him and it's so so clear the entire time! Because yeah! He chose to go through that with Viktor! He chose to hold him by the neck and hold hands with him! Because he loves him! That is true love no matter the intent! He loves everything about Viktor and never once did he falter in that love because it was such a big part of him!!!!! Like I cannot imagine watching the Finale and not coming out of it like "Jayvik is canon" because to me it is canon. like. legitimately canon. and I will be referring to it as canon because that's how I see it.

Okay thanks for listening to my thoughts lol I love queer relationships in media

#Arcane #Jayvik #SORRY FOR THE WALL TEXT I WAS SO INVESTED AND I WANTED TO EXPAND YOUR WORDS #for me it's a really a pure demostration of love what they have #gottago cry again lol

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thesilmarillionblog · 1 day ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 6

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT!, soft, fluff, sick reader, soft dean, fingering, teasing, intimacy, love is in the air, confessions, naive sam, awkward and touch starved dean

Word Count: 14.9K (huuuuhh)

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Deathbeds' by Bring Me the Horizon Click for Series Masterlist!

When you said those three words in the most forceful yet gentle way possible, Dean's eyes widened in surprise. There was a long, heavy stillness now. As you recovered your calm, you realized you were holding your breath and examining every facial expression. Only surprise was there. His lips parted as though he was looking for something to say as you let go of his hand and turned around, tidying up the mess. Your heart was racing so hard that you didn't want him to say anything at all. All you wanted to do was flee and scream because you felt foolish and reckless.

Since the night you allowed him to touch you, you have done everything in your power to keep your friendship intact and stay healthy. It was absurd how simple it was to sever your relationship with just three words. They were sincere, though. There was no turning back now. In reality, touching each other in the most intimate way could never repair what you had broken down. You had feelings for him for a long time, but it would be simpler if you had no feelings at all.

Even though you repeatedly reminded yourself that you didn't want Dean to treat you like any other hookups, you didn't want that. You wanted to feel taken care of and at least somewhat liked by him. You wanted to be special for him and get intimate.

You could now see, though, how self-centered you truly were about it. Even though you didn't intend to be truthful with him about your little secret, you should have been honest from the very beginning. Without hesitation or second-guessing, you told him how you truly felt, and there was no way to undo what had happened. With your heart pounding, you quickly walked to Sam's side after gulping without looking back at Dean. You believed you were having a heart attack or something because of how quickly and powerfully your heart was beating against your chest.

Your coworker looked at Dean and you strangely, as though she had detected something, and Sam was staring at you both with the same bizarre look. However, when he saw Dean's hand covered in bandages, his face shifted.

As you assisted him in getting up with Dean, you questioned, “How did you even manage to hurt yourself like this?” You didn't look back at Dean, but you could feel his gaze on you.

“I guess I was being a little too confident,” he moaned painfully. You nearly laughed when you saw Sam's puppy face. He said, “Dean, are you okay?”

There was a strong desire to flee without turning around. You could throw up there because your heart was beating so hard. You were feeling nauseous from that overwhelming feeling. In fact, you were feeling ill. It didn't matter if being honest was important; you were now doomed. You were lying to yourself; it was completely unnecessary for you to display such bravery by saying it. Saying such things in a hectic situation was easy, but how could you now look Dean in the eye from now on?

You may wish to think about moving as soon as you can. To avoid Dean, it would really be preferable if you spent the night with Robb. God, why would he ever come to the hospital and say things like that to make you feel weak and make you say such things? He should have understood how his words and behavior affected you.

“I'm...alright,” Dean murmured quietly. His voice was a quiet whisper as he spoke. You legs felt shaky.

“You both are okay, but careful with the wounds,” you managed to murmur before Sam carefully stood up.

As Dean assisted him, Sam grumbled in a concerned tone, “You look horrible. You're working a lot nowadays. It is important that you take some time to yourself, right? Just to rest a little at least. If you quit working, the whole country won't just die. You know, you can come over tonight. Dean would prepare dinner for the three of us. Well, I can invite Ruby, too. We haven't spent a day together in a while.”

You've never felt more miserable in your life than when Dean looked at Sam. Even though you heard noises coming from Dean's room when Jo was with him weeks earlier, you thought you would never feel so bad. You were wrong. That was the worst. Without attempting to ascertain Dean's thoughts at the moment, you said hastily, “You're... right, but I'll be working some time more, and I'll think I'll have some rest afterwards.”

Sam waited for Dean to break the tension and convince you, although you did look a bit uncomfortable. When Dean didn't speak or interrupt, Sam was perplexed, which made things a little awkward. Sam gave a sigh. “Okay. You are welcome to visit whenever you like. I'm just saying, Don't ignore my texts.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” you said, attempting to lighten the situation by caressing his wound, but he made a sound of pain. It was impossible to change the atmosphere between you and Dean, but you hurried away as if you had been saved when you were called in to see another patient.

After some time, you sipped some water, but your stomach hurt and your throat still felt dry. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, yet it wasn't because you were hungry or too exhausted to stand. You tried to convince yourself that there was nothing wrong with your body and that you just needed to get some sleep after washing your hands and face.

Though you were ready to exit the restroom, you started throwing up. You attempted to hang on somewhere, but the bitter taste made you gag more. This time, you found yourself crying when you began to throw up. Perhaps it was a result of all the stress you were under due to the past few days. You simply felt dreadful.

You heard someone say, “Oh my god,” as she placed a hand on your back and massaged it as though she wanted to soothe you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded hastily, embarrassed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your gut. “I am.” As you proceeded to puke into the closet, tears streamed down your cheeks. Your colleague's hand continued to touch your back as your knees brushed the dirt off the floor. You were too focused on yourself to pay attention to the questions she was asking.

“Are you pregnant?”

When you attempted to tidy up yourself, you stated, “No!.”

“Really,” she said in a worried voice as she glanced at your lower abdomen. “You were just doing okay, you know.”

“Really, I'm not pregnant. I'm sure,” you attempted to persuade her. “Not much happened recently. I suppose I'm just a little unwell.”

While others entered the restroom and departed after they gave you odd looks, she nodded and helped you with cleaning up. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you sobbed softly, embarrassed by your body's reaction to Dean's overwhelming presence. You were aware that it was only psychological. You were already exhausted and were making every effort to suppress everything that had been causing you days of anxiety. At last, your body had surrendered and rejected your indifference.

You said, “I guess I just need some break,” before she asked any more questions. “I shouldn't have put in so much work in the first place.” She gave you a short nod and rubbed your arms.

“Well, I suppose not. You should not overexert your body, as you are aware of this. Your eyes beg you to go for a nap. How you were able to keep upright for so long is a wonder.”

“Yeah.” You smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you. I believe I can handle myself now.”

Taking a quick glimpse in the mirror and realizing how pale your face appeared, you washed your mouth and face to get rid of the awful taste and smell. She gave you more advice, but shortly after, she exited the bathroom while you cleaned your face and agreed with all she said. You were hoping to take a seat on the floor and unwind for a while. But you knew that all you needed to do was return home and shut yourself off from the outside world.

Dean wasn't chatting as much as he used to, so Sam complained a little on the way home. When Dean reminded him not to get carried away on hunts, he sounded harsh, but Sam ignored his erratic attitude. The ache in Sam's abdomen was making him goran in pain. God, that would take a while to heal. Fortunately, Dean would recover soon enough. His hand was going to heal far more quickly.

Given how silent Dean stayed, Sam couldn't help but think about how you two had been acting somewhat strangely this past weekend. He pondered; maybe Sam didn't see it properly since something happened between you two. Sam followed Dean as he sat on the coach, seeing him put his fingertips to his lips and lose himself in contemplation, dwelling on things Sam couldn't anticipate. Sam pretended to be fiddling with his phone as he watched his big dumb brother play with his lips and ruminate.

In the meantime, Dean pondered over the three words you told him as though they were the simplest to utter aloud. Dean's heart constricted as he continued to reflect on the day he unknowingly took your virginity and made the first move. He was trying to figure out what was going on between you and him by replaying the same scenarios in his mind, but he was drowning in uncertainty and a flood of emotions.

He was no longer able to recall why he had made the first move weeks before. It didn't make sense to blame each other for ruining your friendship. Now it could not be fixed. In separate ways, each of you was guilty. But why he didn't care about that at all was beyond Dean's grasp.

Dean became irritated with himself for not seeing you clearly when he recalled certain specific memories involving you. Perhaps it was always obvious—you were obvious—but he had inadvertently missed it. The three words that left your lips and the way you placed them into expressions without hesitation were replayed in his head while Dean's fingertips brushed his lips and he took a long, deep breath. He was aware that you were always fearless when hunting and all, but he thought that since you avoided getting to know people, you would be afraid to let them in.

Dean believed you.

It would be foolish of him to try to disbelieve you. You were the most genuine and kind person he had ever come across. He smiled quietly to himself, knowing that you had given yourself to him without expecting anything in return and that he was genuinely loved. Though impulsive and free-spirited, Dean was different this time. He felt no regret for it. But he could not yet pinpoint what it was that was making him both excited and annoyed.

“What's wrong with you?” Dean jumped when Sam spoke suddenly. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he was unaware of it.

When Dean noticed he was bleeding his lips from playing them so wildly, he scowled. His body stiffened. “Nothing.”

Sam was obviously unaware of the situation between you and Dean, but it wasn't because Dean was unwilling to divulge information until certain issues had been handled. He didn't want to add to the awkwardness of the situation.

“Don't lie to me,” Sam grumbled bitterly. “It's obvious something is wrong with you.” In annoyance, Dean rolled his eyes. “With you and Y/N, actually.”

As soon as Dean heard your name, his body tightened, and he flexed his muscles while staring at Sam with his arms folded across his chest. Sam was getting ideas from his silence that were difficult to verbalize. After all, you were friends for a year. However, Sam was aware of his big brother's greedy need to date and sleep with each woman he encountered. Sam breathed, disturbed by the pictures that flooded his head. He had to ask and needed Dean to say no, even though he wasn't eager.

Dean's eyes widened as Sam put a hand on his forehead as if he wasn't ready to hear the answer, and he asked, “Did you sleep with her?”

He warily observed his big brother's facial reactions and the way his lips were parted to defend himself, but Dean's words remained in his mouth. Dean finally began, “Why-” but Sam groaned in annoyance as he realized he was right about everything that he thought was inappropriate.

Sam muttered, “I can't believe you,” in disbelief. He was aware that his brother had always been a playboy and Casanova, but he had hoped that things wouldn't work out with you as well because Sam knew you were looking for something deeper and serious as Dean was in passionate relationships only that didn't last very long. Sam simply knew that Dean hadn't been looking for love lately, even though his brother wasn't that incapable of loving someone or anything. Dean just wasn't searching for anything serious. Sam knew that.

You were different than him about that for sure.

Dean's stance changed as he inhaled deeply, feeling more like the younger brother. His uncertain expression faded. He finally stated, “We are not some goddamn teenagers,” in a firm voice, while dismissing Sam's remark.

Once Dean basically confirmed what had happened between you and him, Sam folded his arms over his chest as if he were about to deliver a lecture. “What the hell, Dean? We've been friends with her for a while. More than a year, in fact.”

“And?” Dean almost said something even more offensive, like “was being for a year supposed to stop his dick,” but he restrained himself.

“What do you mean 'and'?” Sam shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “Are you the cause of her recent behavior? It's not her style to work that hard, disregarding interactions and other things.”

Dean had been thinking about the same issues. Of course. But Sam's words struck him hard, causing him to squirm uneasily on the coach. He remained silent and wished Sam would simply stop bothering him. He needed to think about what he should do going forward to avoid making things worse.

“Possibly.” Dean didn't deny.

“Did you friendzone her?”

“What the heck is it supposed to mean?” Irritated at the word but unsure of its exact meaning, Dean snapped at last. It sounded neither pleasant nor lovely. It was quite hostile. He became irritated at Sam's tone, which suggested that Dean had done something wrong.

Sam added clumsily, “I mean, you know afterwards,” while Dean waited for him to finish speaking and glared at him. “Did you discuss it? Was she comfortable with it being a one-night stand?” As if he were a teenager, Sam flushed when he spoke about you and Dean in that way. He wondered if Dean had discussed it with you at all.

“It wasn't a one-night stand,” Dean immediately opposed his brother's hint.

“What was it then?”

“Not a one-stand obviously,” Dean said in defense. He hoped that his brother would stop asking questions about things that were no longer of interest to him. Dean declined to divulge your little secret or the events of Halloween night to Sam. It was about you and him, and Dean needed to figure it out by himself.

“It was just heat of the moment, then?” Sam made a suggestion, as if he wanted to help his brother open up and understand him. Given how much you've been ignoring him and Dean lately, Sam would not discuss this with you given that he plainly believed you wouldn't be keen to talk about Dean at this time. If you wanted to, you would talk about it already.

“No.”

Sam sighed and acknowledged that his brother wouldn't be quite so easy to break at this time. “For gods sake, Dean,” he mumbled. He wondered if Dean even knew what he was doing. “How do you manage to do complex things when they are so easy to resolve?”

Dean replied, “You wouldn't get it,” with seriousness.

Taking a few snacks from the kitchen, Sam remarked, “Well, I think you're the one who don't get a shit.” The tiny struggle that his brother was experiencing almost made him chuckle. But given what a mess you were, it was readily apparent that Dean was the reason you were suffering. “Does she like you, or do you even like her?”

After turning his head away from Sam, Dean got up and left for his room to avoid getting any more questions and to give himself some space to thoroughly think about how to handle this matter. While his brother was clearly perplexed and waited for a response, Dean remained silent. Still, Dean was also in a difficult situation. After everything that had transpired between you, he wasn't okay with the idea of tossing you away. It was never his intention and would never be.

He cared about you.

As he sat on the bed with his phone in his hands, his pulse was pounding, recalling how you expressed yourself when you truly told him you loved him. Dean was aware of your earnestness. He was too shocked to talk when you left him stunned in the hospital, but now he felt different, as though the purity of your words had somehow roused something within of him. It was incredible how you could always get under his skin in every manner with only basic words.

Knowing that you cared for him for a long time and that your love for him was so gentle that he didn't even notice it until you finally spoke your true feelings made Dean chuckle. He felt compelled to look after you because he felt a stronger, warmer, and deeper connection even though he had taken your virginity. It wasn't about that night.

Dean liked you.

The reason he took you that night was more than just intense lust. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, and be with you all the way. Even if he was unaware of it when he was with Jo, something had clearly changed in him after that night. Perhaps his intention was to hide something and pretend that you were the same. It wasn't.

You remained the same, but he had changed.

Putting down his phone, Dean undressed and decided to take a shower, as if that would solve. He wanted a little more time to think about you while taking a cold shower. Dean thought about what he should do, knowing that he would have to wait until your shift ended. It would be disappointing if he chose not to speak up with the same courage that you did. You were both grownups, after all.

After driving home, you got inside and promptly put everything you had on the coach. Every part of your body hurts, including your back and stomach. You could no longer throw up, but there was a revolting taste in your mouth that nearly made you puke with disgust. There was nothing left in your body, though. Before taking the medicine, you tried your best to eat something. Once you entered your room, you were under the covers without even changing your clothes. Though you thought you would be fine sooner, your legs were trembling a little.

In simple terms, your body had finally given up because you were so overwhelmed by all that had happened over the past weeks. You reasoned that vomiting might be a metaphor. Your body was working hard to release all of the stress and negative energy that you had long disregarded. After all, you were a nurse. Nobody understood your physique as well as you did.

You tried to persuade your body to go to sleep by closing your eyes, but your mind tricked you by keeping you preoccupied with Dean. You couldn't get him off your mind. His eyes, his touch, his smile, his voice, his face... You couldn't help but yearn for him. That was sick. You needed him so badly.

You used to look after him while he was unwell. You were happy to care for him and did everything in your power to help him recover, not because it was your job. You wanted him to know that anyone could love him and that Sam wasn't the only one who cared for him. You never performed them in order to receive something in return.

But it hit you in the gut when you realized you had no one to look after you. You started weeping in bed as soon as your eyes began to well up. You were unsure of whether you sobbed because you were sick, lovesick, or because of Dean, or because you were in dire need of compassion and no one was there to provide it. It didn't matter why. One by one, you wept for each one.

In order to call Dean right now, you wish you hadn't told him you loved him. You wanted him to come over and stay with you until you felt better. You had to deal with things on your own, whether you had the energy or not, because you had done the most ridiculous thing in your life—telling him you loved him. Your body failed you even if you took several medications.

You were so overcome by your feelings and weary of crying that your frail body finally gave way to sleep. Even though your body ached, all you could think about was Dean.

Dean realized you must have returned home by now after keeping himself occupied with his car and weaponry. Since the morning, you have been on his mind constantly. Even when he peed, ate lunch, and in other situations, he couldn't stop thinking about you. You seemed to be in his veins in some way. However, Dean didn't whine about it. Dean was pacing the room, unsure whether or not he should have texted you. He occupied himself with his searching after taking a shower and made the decision to meet you.

After taking a long breath, he put his hand on his hip and straightened his posture before calling you. Even though he wasn't sure what to say, he planned to have a proper conversation with you and to offer eating dinner outside. You used to stop by several nice locations months ago. He hoped you were hungry.

Once Dean saw that you weren't very eager to pick up his calls, he scowled while he waited for your answer. Nevertheless, he patiently waited for you since he didn't want you to believe that he was reaching out to you in vain. You still avoided responding even though he was stubborn.

Whispering to himself, “Come on,” he waited. His uncertainties vanished and were replaced by curiosity. Dean pondered if you were cutting off him from your life entirely, ignoring him, or being too embarrassed to answer his calls. That would be ridiculous. Dean didn't believe he had done anything to encourage you. You were doing okay up until now.

Dean was abruptly irritated by your choice to tell him how you felt and to not allow him to react, making all of the decisions on your own and leaving everything up in the air. With a decision made, he exited his room, placed his phone in his pocket, and got into his car. Since the morning, he had been experiencing some worry and a slight lack of confidence. But suddenly it was all gone. Everything would be resolved once you could work things out and have a straightforward conversation.

When Dean noticed that every light was on, he patiently waited outside before calling you again. He wondered whether you were deliberately making him irritated by being so insistent. As he unlocked the door with the keys you handed him a month ago, Dean took a deep breath and felt proud of the trust you placed in him. That trust was something he prayed Robb or no one else did not have. He desired it all for himself. Sharing was something Dean disapproved of.

Feeling like a teenager, Dean's heart pounded wildly on his chest as he entered your house. You were nowhere to be seen in his sight. Disturbed, he called your name while acting awkwardly. Hiş voice came out softer than he had anticipated and refrained from calling you in an affectionate manner, with lovely nicknames. He had no idea how much he wanted to establish a fresh relationship with you until now.

As soon as Dean saw your bag on the coach, he became stiff and worried. He wasn't happy with the silence. With a brief glance around, Dean came inside your room without knocking. There was nothing to hear in the home except the creaking of the door. He observed your sleeping body after he turned on the lights.

A ghostly smile came on Dean's lips as he took a big breath, his heart so full of relief. But as soon as he saw you were humming in your sleep, his smile vanished. You weren't sleeping peacefully; it was apparent. You appeared to be in agony or suffering from nightmares.

With a swift motion, Dean sat down on the bed and instantly placed his palms on your forehead to take your body temperature. You weren't okay, but it wasn't like you were burning. He placed his palm on your warm cheek again and gently said your name to wake you.

Your eyelids slowly opened as you felt rough hands dancing across your flesh, but initially you were unable to see who was caressing you. Yet you recognized that sweet voice. You searched for strength as you started to come to your senses.

“Dean?” you eventually managed to whisper. You groaned in disdain at the irritating taste in your throat. Your body and spirit had finally been overtaken by the illness. Your body felt very little at that time, and you were so weak and lazy. The air was so chilly that your fingers clenched around the blanket.

This time, he mumbled, “Hey, sweetheart,” with worry. You had no idea if your mind was playing ridiculous games with you. Perhaps that was your brain's way of safeguarding you to feel a bit better. You tried to open your eyes, but you were unable to tell the difference between hallucinations and the real world.

You just mumbled something, but your own ears couldn't even hear it.

He said, “I've been calling you for hours,” at least to get you to wake up and start a conversation. “Have you gotten cold? Why didn't you give me a call?”

Despite Dean's best efforts to get you to speak, you only sighed in a whisper and fell back asleep. Remembering how professional you were when he was ill in the past, he felt powerless and was unsure of what to do at the moment. But he could tell you were cold just by the way you looked. Raising Sam taught him things that only parents and doctors should have known. It must have been brought on by working so hard without resting.

He called your name again, but this time you fell asleep again without even letting out a small moan. You gasped as he gently stroked your face and then pushed the cover away. “Come on,” he replied, insistent that you didn't nod off.

You sighed, “I'm cold,” while refusing to let grip of the blanket's corner. You woke up when the cold touched your flesh.

It broke your heart to see Dean on the bed as you opened your sore eyes. The instant your eyes met, the air tightened up. Your hand stopped struggling, and you were unable to stop yourself from crying again. Tears caused your vision to become unclear.

He gently explained, “You've got fever,” and set the blanket aside. “Have you eaten something today?”

You gazed at his attractive face while your tears continued to moisten your burning cheeks. “I don't know,” you replied. Right now, the thought of eating something makes you feel nauseous. All you wanted was to get into bed and go to sleep, to doze off till you healed.

“You haven't eaten anything, then. All right,” he said and attempted to assist you in standing up by placing his hand on your arms. Even though you knew he wasn't being harsh or anything, his hands seemed heavier. You started crying uncontrollably because you felt vulnerable. Dean was talking to you as though you hadn't declared your love hours before, and your back was already hurting a lot.

He whispered, “Why are you crying now?” curiously. His fingertips hovered over your arms as though to soothe your body, but you were afraid that he had created something that would physically harm you. “Are you hurt somewhere?”

You just said, “I want to sleep,” while glancing at him. Your view was so vague that it was impossible to see his face properly.

The way you gazed at Dean with the big tears still streaming from your crimson eyes warmed his heart. He really wanted to calm you down, reassure you, and make you feel better, but he understood he had to deal with your body first. “Come on,” he said. “I'll prepare you the greatest soup ever, which will help you recover quickly, but first you should take a good, cold shower. The soup will be fantastic, I assure you.”

It didn't seem like Dean's attempt to brighten your mood was successful. You lowered your gaze and remained quiet, as though you were not listening to him. His question was abrupt: "Do you want me to help you shower?" He didn't make any nasty suggestions. Dean was just trying to figure out how to get you feeling better, and he was ready to do anything.

“What? No!”

You were worried about how serious he was now, and the thought of him helping you shower startled you up.

“Don't be childish. Regarding health and medical matters, there is no shame. You are more educated about this than I am,” he mumbled, overjoyed by your reaction. Even though Dean had already seen everything, he didn't say it to embarrass you even more. “Your fever has to be treated right now. And if you continue to act obstinate, you know, I'll have to take you to the bathroom myself.”

In order to persuade you, Dean spoke in a very serious tone. “Act more reasonably, as you are the nurse here and should know better.” Dean sighed as he saw your feeble figure and helped you get up, which you did not object to this time. The first thing you said was “Okay.” Now you stopped crying. “I can handle myself.”

You gave him a quick, shy glance, and Dean gave you a very suspicious look. “Good girl. While you take a quick shower, I will quickly cook a delicious soup for you. Don't make me check on you, okay?”

You whispered, “Alright,” as your body guided you to the bathroom. You indeed had to take a fast, cold shower. You couldn't help but feel a bit cheerful even though your head hurt. It felt so good to be cared for by him that you could be sick all the time.

After your brief shower, you stretched your muscles and finally put on your pajamas, feeling as though your bones had been renewed. The number of hours you slept without even changing your trousers was extraordinary. Dean was right. After your little shower, you've been feeling slightly better. The exhaustion was still present, though. Your eyelids couldn't stay open at all.

The kitchen was still being used by Dean. You had no energy at all, even though you really wanted to go there and talk to him. Your fingers were clenched around the blankets to keep your body warm as you began to tremble and you found yourself back in bed. You were cold. Your mind also calmed down and ceased ripping apart you with negative ideas about Dean while he was around. You were finally free of pain. Your body continued to unwind beneath the covers while he came to check on you and spoke to you, giving the impression that he wasn't mad at you or anything. The headache had almost gone away. You just needed to relax by getting some sleep.

From a distance, you could hear him calling your name, but you lacked the power to take action.

“Hey,” he grumbled. Dean arrived in your room with a cup of soup. “You're not sleeping yet. Not until you finish eating this miraculous soup. Are you aware of the amount of work I put into it?”

Knowing what he was going to do, you hugged the covers tightly. Your body shivered, and you moaned in protest as he pushed the blankets away, just as you thought he wouldn't be able to remove them from your hands this time. The smell of soup only made you scowl in disdain; it had no nice scent. You had no desire to ever eat something again.

“I just need some sleep.” You cringed at your sick tone.

After making you get up just enough to allow you to start eating your soup, Dean gently sat down next to you and placed the tray on his lap. He gave you a gentle push before your tired hands picked up the spoon, adding, “You just lay down nicely, sick nurse.” He did everything he could to cheer you up and start a conversation. Rather, he saw that your cheeks were flushed, which was adequately amusing.

As soon as the spoon reached your lips, you groaned in agony due to the extreme warmth. You didn't say anything to avoid coming out as ungrateful. “Sorry for that,” Dean said in a regretful whisper while blowing out the smoke a few times with an apologetic look. He didn't change his mind when you told him that you could handle yourself.

Every time he calmly blew the smoke before you ate, you saw that he had changed his clothes. Dean was wearing pajamas now as well. You pondered where he would be sleeping, and your heart melted at the idea of him spending the night with you. In order to prevent him from reading your face, you nibbled your inner cheeks and focused on the soup's flavor. It was really excellent. Dean was correct to create a miraculous soup that may accelerate your recovery from illness. You were already feeling better, even if you still had backache.

“Thank you, Dean.” You frowned and turned your head away from the spoon, refusing to consume the entire soup when you felt your nausea returning. “I

think that's enough,” you murmured timidly.

Thankfully, Dean placed the tray aside while you used tissue to wipe the corners of your lip. After displaying a few of your medications in his palm, he inquired, “Which one do you need to take? Since they do not have boxes, it is impossible to determine which one is helpful.”

Your cheeks flushed as you saw one of the pills you had been taking since the night with Dean in his hands, but you remained silent. At this time, you were relieved that he was rather naive. There was a pregnant silence in the room as you picked the right one, drank a glass of water, and then wrapped yourself with warm blankets once more. You instantly closed your eyes to keep from looking directly at Dean. As a result of Dean's crushing presence, your eyelids were firmly closed and your heart was racing.

You wanted to let him know how wonderful he was and how his compassion and sincerity made you feel better than you had in a long time. However, you were not allowed to utter any of those. You had so much you wanted to say at the moment, but you held it back out of shame and guilt. You turn away from Dean and pay close attention to his movements in the room, hoping he won't talk about what you told him and will pretend it never happened. If he couldn't love you back, you just wanted him to be this way forever. It meant the world to you that he was taking care of you in this way. It was quite adequate.

Dean immediately climbed into the bed after you had closed your eyes. Your body stiffened up, and your heart began racing as soon as you felt his weight on the bed. The way he affected you was embarrassing. But even though you knew it was only an act of kindness, it still made you unfulfilled and sad. Because you wished so desperately for him to feel the same way about you, it became a prayer. Your body longed for him—to experience his comforting presence and touch.

“Are you feeling better now?” The silence was disturbed by Dean placing his palm on your forehead to measure your temperature. Hearing his talk so near made your body shiver, and you could feel his hefty presence just behind you. You closed your eyes as though something would happen and he would leave. You could have broken at any time since your body was so rigid.

You muttered, “Yes,” as your back hurt like it was trying to prevent you from getting a good night's sleep. “Just a sore back. Overworking must be the cause.”

With a sudden connection, you gasped as his large hands began rubbing your back. You began moaning a bit with relaxation since the intense closeness of the situation was so overpowering. When Dean felt your tight body slowly letting go under his touch, his lips curved pleasantly. There was nothing sexual about the moment. Dean kept on massaging your back in the hopes that it might make you feel better.

After caressing your back enough, he moved to place his head directly behind yours and withdrew his hand. You realized you had shifted till your head was resting on his thick neck, and you wished he hadn't been listening to your heartbeats when he was so close. You felt safeguarded, but perhaps it was your sleep or the touch of him that made you impulsive. The moment was so lovely and delightful that it couldn't have been produced by the wildest dreams.

Dean's hard kiss on the back of your head caused your lips to parted. Once he smelled your hair, you were relieved you had showered. He said, “You smell so nice and fresh,” moving slightly to ensure that you both slept well.

Your body relaxed even more as you let your head drop back a bit more and kept your eyes closed as soon as his hand took yours into his warm ones. Your lips may brush across his chin if you make a small movement. You no longer wanted to sleep; all you wanted was to savor that moment of perfection indefinitely and to keep quiet about it. Your mind and soul had been craving that intimacy for months.

Both of your hands remained on your stomach as Dean's hand continued to touch your fingertips. His breathing caught your attention. The only sound in the room was the rain that had begun to fall outside. As Dean's hands continued to touch you in harmony, the calm sounds of the raindrops filled your entire being with fulfillment and a state of bliss more than the last time, as though each one were filling a hole in the pit of your soul.

You didn't know if it meant something for Dean. But that didn't matter. Whatever Dean was prepared to offer you, you were prepared to embrace it. As soon as your exhaustion gave way to sleep again and you sensed Dean getting closer, you knew it was time for a restful night's sleep.

After a long and pleasant sleep, you stretched your body in between sighs of delight. You smiled a bit as you felt Dean's hand on yours, thinking he was still asleep. Taking advantage of the fact that he didn't move behind you, you leaned your back on his chest a bit further.

“Good morning to you too,” Dean remarked abruptly in an amusing manner, causing you to jump and then freeze in shame.

You said, “Morning,” as if you hadn't just been brushing against his body.

“Slept well, I guess.” To check if you still had a fever, Dean touched your forehead and asked. Fortunately, you were fine. He was happy to be able to help you the way you deserved, and it filled his chest with pride.

“Yeah, thank you, Dean, for taking care of me.” As you thanked him for enhancing your mood in every manner while your mind considered saying different things. Dean, overcome with excitement, moved behind you so he could meet your gaze. Your muscles stiffened up once again as you worried about what was coming. Right now, you didn't want to talk at all.

When Dean moved, your hands were waiting on each side of you, hovering over your body. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, paying close attention to your eyes. As you considered what to say, you licked your dried lips. You were ready for rejection, but you wanted to keep yourself composed so that your friendship wouldn't end over something so... dumb.

“That night, I didn't want to upset you or hurt your feelings.” He said, “When I found out about... You know,” without bringing it up to avoid making you feel uncomfortable. “It didn't go...waste.”

You shook your head and mumbled, “Dean,” disturbed that he actually believed it to be a serious issue. He interrupted you before you could respond and continued.

He stated, “What's special to you is special to me as well,” in a firm tone.

With beseeching eyes, you murmured, “It's not special, I promise, I swear,” so that he would never feel guilty for something he was uninformed of. You alone made that choice. He was correct to hold you responsible for something he had no control over. You need to have apologized for it. “I never expected anything in return.” Even though your cheeks were flushed, you continued firmly, “I would never.” You understood that in order to mend your disagreements, you needed to have this talk.

He said, “I know, I know,” as if that wasn't what he was attempting to convey. “I just want you to know how pleased I am that it was me. It didn't go wasted, alright? Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” You hurriedly answered with a sweet tone. “There is nothing to be forgiven,” and in an attempt to convince him of your sincerity, one of your hands instantly reached up and caressed his arm.

Your gentle touch caused Dean's eyes to soften and his body to relax. When he saw that you were panting deeply and that he was nearly on top of you, he gulped and licked his dry lips. His thoughts were swiftly superseded by other things. At last, his eyes ceased observing you as you chewed your lips. Dean made an effort to focus on your small talk.

The idea of going on a date with you made his heart race. Dean was ready to go all the way with you. He knew, however, that he should be doing it right. If he weren't a grown man, he would be blushing at the thought of your proclamation of love for him. He wouldn't talk about it until you were more comfortable and at ease with him. Dean knew you were a little shy right now. “Now that you're feeling better, would you like to go out tonight? With me?”

“For what?” you inquired naively. Your fingertips were gently massaging his biscep.

This time, Dean smiled when he saw your look of confusion. Whether or not it made you shy, it seemed like he had to start acting braver from now on. “A date?”

Your lips were parted in shock as your hands went down on his muscles. You continued to stare into his beautiful green eyes as you attempted to make sense of what he was saying so you wouldn't ridicule yourself in front of him. You weren't sure whether he meant something else, but he appeared to be rather serious. “What date?”

As Dean said, “I'm assuming we both are ready to make little amendments about our relationship,” he began to get closer to you. Already, the gentle motion of your fingertips on his arm was causing him to imagine inappropriate things. When you showed him how bold you were in your love declaration, Dean wouldn't dare to deny his own feelings for you. He was eager to see how well you two could work together since he had such affection for you.

Though your heart was racing, you couldn't help but feel a little insecure because of the way things had been going lately. If Dean was acting this way because he had taken your virginity without knowing about it, it would hurt you more than anything he had said. “Dean,” you finally muttered, “I would never force you into something you're not into just because of such an insignificant thing. It doesn't matter. I swear,” you said firmly, though your voice was a little cracked, but you needed him to believe you because you were totally honest about it. “I cannot undo what I have told you, but I'm willing to keep our... friendship maintained. I don't want to lose-”

Dean decided to disregard your words and let your actions speak more by capturing your lips and silencing you, even though you made earnest attempts to convince him that you were okay with moving forward as you have in the past. You were so shocked that you didn't move as Dean did his best to push his tongue into your mouth by trying to part your lips. His hand lightly brushed your neck in an attempt to elicit a response.

When you eventually regained consciousness, you parted your lips to allow his tongue to enter. As soon as you let him, his frantic kisses slowed and softened, like though you had just been into a fight and he had calmed down. When Dean intensified his seductive kisses, your uncertainties and fears vanished. It was hard to imagine if he would respond to your love in the manner you were hoping for. However, you choose to let him take control and wait patiently to see what comes next.

As he began shifting on the bed and gradually climbing on top of you, you felt hotter the softer your kisses became. He withdrew to let you both catch your breath, but he continued to stroke your burning lips with his reddened ones. Desire flooded your body as though you hadn't been sick the day before.

Dean, who was already having trouble resisting the need to shove himself between your thighs, briefly closed his eyes to gather himself. He didn't intend to do it. Well, for the time being. He moved slightly away to look at you. You were staring at him with such tenderness and love that Dean momentarily stopped breathing. You placed both of your hands from his arms to his neck and shifted your head slightly to signal him to come closer.

Without hesitation, he put his hands around your upper thigh and squeezed it tightly while giving your burning lips another intense kiss. His painful erection was going to take over his body and take over his entire being. He was losing control of himself because of your tender hands on his neck, your fingers following the veins there, your passionate kisses, the tiny moans on his lips, and your tiny movements beneath him. Dean began sucking your bottom lip as you did the same for his top lip after he gave you a gentle squeeze on your thigh to help himself relax.

You eagerly awaited him to place himself between your legs, but Dean seemed to be holding himself back by declining to initiate contact. You hesitated a bit, moved slightly beneath him, and lifted your hips without breaking the kiss, putting one of your hands on his back after gasping at how hard he was. You couldn't keep your hips in the air for very long, so you needed him to pin you down on the bed.

“Dean,” you moaned at last, unsure of how to ask without coming out as desperate.

When Dean heard your tiny moan and his name on your lips, he caught them again to stop you from pleading for more. He wasn't sure how long he could hold back from you. Of course, it wasn't the right moment, but you two were acting too eager to make him think properly. Dean wanted you to know how much you were hardening him with your kisses when he finally placed himself between your legs. After feeling his hardness on your clothed pussy, you moaned into his lips and carefully put one hand beneath his t-shirt to touch his stiff abs.

In order to give you the friction you wanted, Dean grabbed your hips and abruptly pressed himself between your legs, rubbing harder on your pussy. He was ready to strip you right away and shove his cock inside when he felt his body tense beneath your touch. That's not the proper moment, he reminded himself.

Dean moaned against your lips, “We need to calm,” but his body betrayed him, and he kept stroking himself frantically between your legs while stealing little moans from your lips. You were going crazy because of an unsolved pressure between your legs.

You asked innocently, perplexed by Dean's choice to not go all the way, “Why?” Didn't your kisses enough as a response to all that was going on? Your body didn't listen to him at all.

“We don't have to rush things,” he whispered into your mouth. Your lips were swollen and red. But you weren't being stopped.

Even though he was telling you that you didn't need to make any funny business right now, his body was telling you otherwise. In the hopes that Dean might change his mind, you instantly returned Dean's kisses. The idea of becoming something with him and the closeness of his touch sent your pulse pounding with thrill and happiness.

Although Dean's pulsating manhood was screaming for him to act at once, he maintained his composure. He was adamant about doing things correctly and decided not to shove inside of you by lowering your underwear. Instead, he drew himself back a bit and rubbed your clothed pussy through your pajamas to offer you that little ecstasy and calm your body's desires. He touched you gently there, and you immediately gasped with anticipation. Dean closely observed your facial expressions to determine if you were at ease or not. The corner of his lips twisted into a little smile once he was certain that, based on your pleased look, you were perfectly at ease with his touch.

Your pajamas' thin fabric allowed you to feel his large fingers there, slowly following the line of your pussy through it. You let out a little groan and raised your hips higher in order to establish rhythm. You bit your lip to avoid moaning aloud and demonstrating how desperate you already were. It was insufficient to provide you with the same pleasure he had bestowed upon you weeks before. You needed him to touch you there without any fabric between you.

You pleaded with yearning eyes, “Dean, please,” as your hand moved from his tempting abs to his arms, which were massaging you in that precise spot. Dean tormented you as his lips curved with delight and his motions grew even slower, as if he wanted you to beg for more once again. You showed your desire for him by raising your hips again.

“Is that not enough? Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you said, your cheeks flaming with embarrassment at how needy you were already under him while he was in control of his own body, unlike you.

Dean kept his motions steady while you pleaded with him with your eyes and words, looking at your lovely figure underneath him, your messy hair, and your exquisite scent to appreciate the moment more. You hesitate a moment before placing your shaky hands between his legs. You were simply touching and blinking your eyes while you examined his reaction. You weren't palming his erection, but just touching. It would have been so simple for him to thrust himself inside you at this very moment by lowering your underwear. Dean knew he needed to wait a little longer to make the sex flawless, as you deserved, even if he was on the verge of bursting due to the intense closeness he shared with you.

Under your gentle hands, he felt hard and heavy. You wondered why he hadn't already made a move. You didn't have to wait for anything. Dean couldn't help but groan in desire and thrust himself into your hand with a sudden motion that made you gasp in excitement. You were getting wetter by the sounds he let out than he made you with his fingers. His rough, lustful sounds were filling your heart with joy. You wanted him to see how much you wanted to make him feel the same things and to express your deep love for him.

Encouraged by the way he responded to your touch, you squeezed him firmly through his sweatpants, tightening your grip until he shivered and groaned deeply over you. Making him feel this way filled your heart with fulfillment, resulting in your heart racing madly on your chest. Right now, you could do anything he wanted.

Dean's hands grabbed the soft one that was massaging him there and put it behind his back so he wouldn't lose himself entirely. You gave him a perplexed expression. “We will not rush, alright?” he said after kissing you firmly on the lips.

You mumbled, “Fine,” not happy with his answer. You didn't want to appear overly eager, but it appeared that you were not successful. At the very least, you prayed he wouldn't stop rubbing you there.

“I'll give you what you need.”

When Dean dropped your sweatpants and underwear to reveal your dripping pussy to him, a little grin faded from your lips and was replaced by shock. While he was doing this, he continued to gaze at you, analyzing every facial expression to see whether you were actually comfortable. Even if he wouldn't fuck you right now, he would not leave you like this, unsatisfied.

You bit your lips in anticipation as you rested your hands on his back, your knees shaking with enthusiasm. With a little smirk, Dean said, “I wonder if it's wet there.” To lighten the mood, he teased you even though he knew he would find you drenched.

“Yeah, me too,” you said with a little smile, but the way he massaged your thighs extremely slowly, as though to drive you insane, made your legs tremble.

You groaned against his lips as soon as he palmed your pussy to determine your level of wetness. You were certain that your underwear must have been ruined since his fingers moved so effortlessly between your pussy lips. Although Dean was aware that you were leaking there, he was not expecting you to be this soaked. His cock begged to be released as it throbbed against boxers once more. He could slide into you without even making you come. You bit your lip hard as Dean's playful smile changed to one of seriousness and he inserted a finger abrubtly.

Dean moaned as he inserted his finger all the way inside of you, saying, “You feel so tight, so nice.” His praises made you feel at ease and prepared to take in everything he had in store for you. It wouldn't be hard for you to take him if he simply shoved himself into you now, lowering his boxers.

Whispering, “Just for you,” you placed your hands on his neck and ran them over his skin.

He smiled, and his pulse raced with delight at your response. He felt cherished and loved for based on the astounding compassion and affection in your hands. Dean wanted you to surrender yourself to him completely, given that he knew he desired you in every way.

You moaned into Dean's mouth just as he pressed his lips to yours and started to finger you properly, overjoyed by your response. Inside your lips, he hushed his own groans, although he struggled to maintain his composure. Dean was going crazy because of the way you touched his neck and drew him in closer to your mouth. You moaned loudly into Dean's lips as he pushed a second finger. His cock was pulsing with every sound you made now, because you used to be a bit quiet weeks earlier. He enjoyed the fact that while you were laying under him, at his mercy, you were unable to stop your moaning.

You gave him frantic kisses in return, as the pleasure he was giving you caused your walls to tighten around his fingers inside of you. His fingers worked in sync with his tongue in your mouth. You drew back and let out a loud gasp as your head hit the pillow and your back arched as Dean expertly worked with your clit with his thumb and curled his fingers.

He started to finger you more roughly after hearing your desperate moan. He was also biting and sucking your neck wildly, making marks there as if he intended to mark you as his.

He groaned, sensing that you were getting closer. “Do you want me to make you come?” You were failing, but you were holding back in order to prevent yourself from coming too quickly.

You pleaded, “Please, Dean,” sensing that you were getting close. Your body yearned for release, but you didn't want it to stop.

As his meaty fingers continued to torture you with pleasure, he moaned against your lips, “Will you take whatever I give you?”

“I will,” you said hurriedly. “Always.”

“That's my girl,” Dean praised you again and kissed you, his fingers moving more strongly inside you. You moaned loudly as you came around his meaty fingers when he curled them again and hit the perfect spot. You were unable to remain silent any longer due to the intensity of your orgasm. As he absorbed the screams you produced into his mouth, your legs were trembling and your pussy was throbbing.

Dean's other hand aggressively squeezed one of your tits through your t-shirt before placing it beneath your chin before his kisses became softer and relaxed as the effects of your orgasm wore away. This time, as you came to your senses, Dean gave you a very delicate, warm kiss and carefully lifted up your sweatpants and underwear.

The sensation of his smile on your lips made you smile too. Each part of your existence was at ease now. Though shyness started surfacing, that was the most amazing and intense thing you have ever experienced—not hurried, not in quiet, not in the darkness in any way—Dean was aware of the love you had for him and could now see you in the light of day in every possible way imaginable. You sighed with happiness as he withdrew; you could kiss him indefinitely, even if both of your lips were burning.

“You okay?” Taking you into his arms on the bed, Dean asked, panting heavily himself. He still had a noticeable erection, but you could see he wasn't going to go all the way just yet. That was very unfortunate.

With your head resting on his chest and your cheeks heating, you responded, “Very much,” putting your palm to your lips, not looking too cheerful or excited.

Dean was relieved to see you relaxed and doing much better than you had yesterday. Even though his erection still hurt in his sweatpants, he didn't care about it anymore. He embraced you more tightly and made his mind that he was excited to see whatever the future held for you. Dean was struck by the way his heart pounded while you were still panting heavily like a leaf in his arms. The feeling itself was something he didn't want to lose.

After such agonizing weeks, you were now lying on top of him again, closing your eyes this time to savor the precious moment. He didn't say the same three words to you, which you didn't expect already because it wasn't that significant. He had already done so for you; you were truly touched by his kindness, his care for you last night, and—above all—the way he expressed himself via the actions he took. You were fine with using the same three words over and over again. You merely wanted that he never depart from you and continue to care for you in this way.

Dean's phone began to ring shortly after you woke up. You two had to go back to sleep. You didn't have the energy to get up, even though his phone kept ringing. This is how you could sleep forever. Even though your back pain was almost gone, you still wanted to take a little more time to just unwind. You would never again work so hard.

After gently placing you on your side on the cushions, Dean climbed across your body to retrieve his phone from the table next to the bed. Your slumber began to wane as soon as you felt his weight on you, and you yawned and slowly opened your eyes. Dean grumbled and eventually picked up his phone. “Sorry,” he said.

“What happened?” you said, wiping your eyes as you wrapped blankets over your cold body. Your body tenses up at the sound of Sam's voice, and you instantly shut your mouth. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of being heard by him. Dean offered you a wink and a side smile as he listened to Sam, finding your silence cute.

When Sam heard a drowsy voice on the phone, he blinks. All of a sudden, he lost his words. With a bewildered tone, he said, “Are you with Y/N?” He was shocked to learn that Dean met you after spending much of his time in front of the mirror. He was plainly mistaken when he believed his older brother had spent the night with someone else.

“Yeah,” he said. Sam rolled his eyes, but he was unable to contain his chuckle at his brother's haughty and joyful tone.

“You know I can't deal with all the shit out here myself, right?” Sam sighed and asked. He had to ruin your moment even if he didn't want to. Sam pondered whether you two had started dating.

Sam actually pictured you and Robb together because you both had long-standing friendships and similar occupations in the same area. He was unaware that his brother was already eyeing you, and vice versa. He couldn't see the big picture given that he was blind. He heard Dean sigh heavily as Sam went on with the problems he and his brothers had to deal with.

He eventually responded, “Alright, alright, Sam,” in a composed tone. “On my way.”

Since Sam's wounds were still fresh and he needed to take care of himself, you questioned, “Is everything alright?” worried that something had happened to him.

“It's nothing.” Dean stretched his muscles and looked at your body. “He's just being whiny about dealing with werepires, witches, and other strange things without me.”

You shifted on the bed and said, “You both are still wounded,” as Dean stood up and began stripping in front of you to change. You instantly looked down at the bed, embarrassed that you didn't know how to react when he stripped in front of you. You doubted Dean was feeling bashful about the sudden thickening of the air.

“It's alright,” he calmly said. He looked to see whether you had been watching him, but he saw that you were fiddling with the sheets. “Just regular things.”

You realized that you had never seen each other truly naked since the first time, when you were both wearing costumes and it was dark, when you heard him take off his t-shirt. You have never laid eyes on each other's bodies properly in daylight. You felt nervous at the idea. There were moments when you could see his muscles in the upper body or when he was hurt in his belly, but you didn't glance elsewhere except at his wounds to avoid taking advantage of the circumstance. But now you wanted to see him.

“You missed the whole show, I'm just saying.” As he grabbed and put on his shirt and jeans, Dean winked.

“Is there anything I can do?” you said, smiling slightly at him.

“There is, indeed. Just have your breakfast, remember to take your medicine, and get more sleep. In order for us to have the dinner that we discussed outside tonight, you must regain your strength, okay? So that's the best you can do at the moment.” Dean's tone was quite serious. He was ready to leave. He didn't stay a little longer so you could have breakfast together, which made you a bit upset. But you were satisfied with what you had. Everything that had happened since yesterday night was beyond comprehension, and it was already too much.

You nodded and watched him adjust his clothes again before you got out of bed. “Okay,” you said. You needed a second shower.

You both gazed at each other anxiously, unsure of what to do. Awkwardness suffused the atmosphere. You didn't know what to say to break off the silence since you weren't sure what you two were exactly. Dean just had a similar expression to yours when he glanced at you. “Say hi to Sam from me,” you finally said, but you cringed at your own words.

Dean gave you a strange look as you waited anxiously after he got his phone and put everything else in his pockets and then examined his clothes. “Alright,” he muttered back.

Disturbed by his own strange actions, Dean gathered himself and confidently walked up to you, kissing you on the lips. From the way your lips became crimson and warm, he realized how much he really liked kissing you. The kiss was enhanced by your nervousness, and the way you react to him with the same fervor was adorable. Dean hoped his actions spoke louder than words, although he didn't put it into words. He thought you wouldn't be into the friends with benefits thing, which he wasn't into either, obviously, not with you.

When Dean withdrew after the firm kiss that had warmed your heart, you glanced at his bandaged hand again to make sure he was okay. As you carefully examined his hand and gave it a mild massage, he stated, "You're not going to work today, right?"

“No way.”

“Good.” Dean said, “Just have some rest,” taking your hands in his. “I'll call you when I'm done.”

“Okay. Tell Sam to take care of his wounds. He must also get plenty of rest in order to recover rapidly.”

Dean added hastily, “Don't worry about that,” and then he was gone.

You exhaled deeply as soon as he left your house, and your palm paused on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. You were astonishingly well, as if you weren't even sick, in contrast to yesterday. You felt as though a lot of energy had been poured into your soul, and you smiled broadly to yourself. You considered every aspect of your time with Dean as you prepared a delicious breakfast for yourself to further savor the experience. You reminisced on how he touched, kissed, hugged, and cared for you. No one could have touched you the way he had.

Remembering how he wanted to go farther with you and how you couldn't stop moving when cutting a tomato, you giggled this time. Though you felt awful about it yesterday since it made you sick and you thought it wrecked everything, you were happy with your declaration of love. You could speak those three magical words into his ear forever.

As you considered what to wear, you thought about what dinner you would be having this evening. Since you were either at work or chasing ghosts or monsters with him, you were never able to wear the outfits you bought when you fell in love with him months ago. It appeared like you were going to spend those hours contemplating what to wear and other things until Dean gave you a call.

When Dean called and said he would be there in fifteen minutes, you were so preoccupied with what to wear and worried that it would be too much to put on a dress that you took your head between your hands, powerless to act, helpless. You had plenty of time to think things through, yet you were unable to effectively manage the time you had. Choosing the most modest of them, you brushed your hair aggressively and quickly. You wish you were as fast as you were at the hospital.

Dean was patiently waiting for you while leaning back against his car and placing his hands on his chest. Since he had left your house, he had been thinking about you, which was causing him a little stress at the moment. He wanted to proceed with things as you deserved. Sam, you, and him spent a lot of time together, but this time, going out with you was different. That meant something, even though you didn't say as much to each other. It was your first date.

Dean shifted into a more relaxed stance, clearing his throat and placing his hands in his pockets. He stopped resting back against his car and smiled at your delighted figure as soon as you opened the door. You appeared little beneath your oversized jacket as you drew near.

You walked up to him and said, “Sorry, Dean,” in an apologetic manner. You attempted to be calm so that you wouldn't be distracted by his attractive, lengthy form. “Have you been waiting for long?” He looked awfully good.

As soon as Dean responded, “No, I just...” Your legs were already trembling a little, so you hurriedly opened the door yourself without waiting for him to do it for you or at least give you a hug. Confusion seized Dean's lips as he carefully closed the door. Your excitement and hasty movements made him smile and shake his head.

In order to avoid becoming chilly and ruining your entire week, you were clinging to your large brown vintage jacket. “How is your hand feeling now?” you asked in a tone of concern as soon as Dean put his bandaged hand on the steering wheel. You saw that the bandage had previously been renewed.

Dean chuckled and stretched his fingers to indicate that he was okay. “Yeah, it is,” he responded. “Have you rested enough?”

“Yes, I've got better. I suppose it was all due to my extreme tiredness.” You looked at his flawless side profile and murmured again, “Thank you, Dean. For taking care of me, for making me feel better.”

Dean winked at you and replied, “Don't mention it,” pleased that you told him he did well. “My pleasure.”

In contrast to what you expected, Dean sat down next to you rather than across from you when you first got to the location where you, Ruby, Sam, and Dean occasionally hung out. Since it was already heated inside, you hurriedly removed your jacket. Your big brown jacket and long dark green dress must have made you appear a bit silly.

In order to avoid giving himself a hard time, Dean moved his eyes away after he realized they were locked onto your deep, delicious cleavage. His wicked eyes were literally twitching due to your skin, and his brain was sending messages all the way between his legs. His nose was flooded with your delicate scent as soon as you removed your jacket. Your skin and the way you looked in general were flawless. Dean moved slightly in the seat and pressed his hand on the head of your seat. When Dean stated, “It's pretty cold outside nowadays; you must be very careful,” you were reminded of your sickness.

You murmured, “It's actually quite hot inside.” No matter what Dean thought, you probably wouldn't take off your jacket if it got even a little cold since you've never cherished cold weather.

"Oh, yeah?” Dean said with a chuckle, wetting his lips and arching his eyebrows. He became aware that he had never previously seen you wearing a dress like this. Dean's heart melted as you smiled tenderly at him, and he couldn't resist gently touching your arms.

You shuddered a little at Dean's abrupt, gentle touch on your arm and teased him, “Plus, you would be there to take care of me, right?” It should be illegal since he looked so handsome.

Dean said, delighted by your playful behavior, “Seems like someone got used to being taken care of already.”

Your heart began to behave normally around him as the tension between you lessened, even if you were still a little anxious. You told Dean about your college days and the times you witnessed the most ridiculous and absurd patients you saw in the hospital while you were eating dinner in peace. Dean also talked about the old, bittersweet days with Sam, which melted your heart. You told him everything good about him when he got a little critical of himself.

Fortunately, Dean showed consideration by not inquiring about your confession, your feelings for him, or the precise beginning of your feelings. You would feel quite uneasy and less confident because of it. The date was really different, yet it was also just like every other lovely time with him. There were situations when you both couldn't stop touching one another while chatting.

It was difficult to resist touching him. You were already accustomed to that as well. Dean's kind and passionate strokes had already become addictive to your body. It went really well, even though you thought it may have gone a little worse because of the anxiety you had been feeling. At the beginning, you were somewhat too shy, but Dean helped you start acting more like yourself.

You didn't even notice how quickly the time went by since you were eating a meal side by side and touching each other while you chatted and revealed more intimate details about lives. Dean's smile was contagious, and you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw how joyful and natural he was. His demeanor also inspired you to speak even more. It was already midnight.

The physical distance between you as he drove was a bit agonizing, as you had become used to spending hours sitting by his side. You wanted to be close to each other to forget about the times you were apart, and you were basically free to touch each other as you wanted. When Dean called your name, you leaped. Dean halted the car, but you were unaware that you had arrived.

“That was a very enjoyable night,” you said timidly, looking out and unsure of what to say. “Thanks for the dinner.”

You waited for his answer while licking your lips. You smiled sincerely at him and idly fiddled with the hanger of your shoulder bag. Dean's mouth opened, but he seemed to be looking at you as if he were pondering what exactly to say at this moment. He gave you the kind of glance that made him look as if he wanted to pause time and enjoy this sincere moment.

“My pleasure. I had a great time,” he added, grinning at you. Abruptly, “Are you working tomorrow?” he said.

“No,” you shook your head in response. “I'll be off from work for at least three more days. I informed them that I was still feeling bad and somewhat worn out.”

Dean exhaled a sigh of relief. He was already planning new activities to do while he was with you. Most significantly, you needed some downtime after working nonstop due to him. He wanted to take responsibility and put things right. Dean wanted to make you happy, sort things out, and start something fresh with you, not to relieve himself.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly to him while you kept chewing your inner cheeks. It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to want to bring him inside. However, things had changed, and you were unsure of how to behave or what to say. He had you at his mercy.

As you were about to bid farewell before heading away, Dean's fingers reached your neck, and his lips captured yours. In response to his gentle kisses, you eagerly parted your lips and let him in. Your hand dropped to his chest as you let your bag drop to your feet, only feeling his heartbeat against your palm.

His kisses were gentle and soft at first, but you were unable to suppress your need and want for him, so they became urgent and mirrored your hunger. You were reluctant about leaving. You wished he would stay. You whimpered into his lips as your hand moved from his chest to his thick neck. Dean's gentle kisses quickly became intense. He was now giving you fierce kisses in return for your urgent ones. You were kissing each other like you've never kissed before.

His low growl made your heart race as you moaned into his mouth as he bit and sucked your lips. With a swift movement, Dean's injured hand grabbed your ass and moved your body into his seat, on his lap. Watching you between his legs caused him to groan. Dean was even harder since he was aware of his impact on you.

As Dean touched your legs through your long dress, you pulled back to catch your breath. You could already feel your pussy contracting with anticipation. Your entire body yearned for him. You looked him in the eye when you licked your swollen lips while placing your hands on either side of his face. Dean smiled at you to gauge your response, and it was warm and delightful. Through his jeans, you could feel his dick throbbing beneath you.

He had been encouraged to continue by the passion and affection he saw in your eyes, and as his hands began lifting your dress, you shivered with impatience. He moved steadily and slowly. After all, you had plenty of time to enjoy each other.

You were seated on his lap, rubbing your covered pussy against his cock as soon as he raised up your dress. Your heart was pounding wildly. You already knew you were ruined there already. “Dean,” you whimpered desperately. You hoped he wouldn't leave you like this.

He grinned victoriously at how much you desired him and how dependent you were on him. You stared at him and said his name with love and affection, and it wasn't simply a simple sexual yearning. Dean's heart pulsed blissfully into his chest. He longed to be loved and wanted by you. He intended to provide for all of your needs.

“What do you want me to do?” While his wounded had been waiting on your hip, Dean asked on your lips. Then he softly stroked one of your tits and squeezed it firmly.

While he waited for an answer, Dean gasped in surprise and confusion as you bit your lip and abruptly rubbed yourself on his hard cock. Dean's lips twisted into a little, sly smile. His injured hand remained on your underwear, helping you to move on him while the other hand kept pressing and kneading your breast through your clothes.

Dean's gaze was fixed on your cleavage as you kept rubbing yourself on his cock slowly so that neither of you would finish too soon and you could savor the moment. You pressed closer to his hands and watched the driven expression in his eyes. As his hand moved into your cleavage exposed your breast, squeezing your stiffened nipple, Dean checked your face to make sure you were completely well. You moaned a little louder this time because of the way he rubbed his thumb on your breast.

In order to establish a rhythm with you, Dean lifted his hip a little higher and started to suck your breast into his lips extremely aggressively once his mouth approached your nipple. “Ah, Dean!” you moaned, pressing yourself into his lips and nailing his shoulders.

Dean slowed his passionate kisses and then stopped, laying his head on your chest and panting heavily, just as you were ready to lose yourself on him. You whimpered as you felt him pull out his thick fingers. You had not finished yet. Was he unaware? He raised his head to meet your startled look as he planted a very gentle kiss on your bare chest. He knew you would do anything for him at this moment, didn't he?

He was completely hard, hurting down below, watching you lose yourself on his lap while wearing this outfit. Dean wanted you to ride him till he released his ropes inside you right now in Baby. Badly.

However, he needed to know that pleasure and desire weren't the backbone of what you were doing. He needed to express his affection and respect for you, even though it was obvious that you were desperate for any physical contact, and it was driving him insane. He needed you to see how gentle and caring he was toward you. He desired to offer you all that you had given him.

Dean replied, “Not now, sweetheart,” and put his hands behind your back, basically offering you a hug as you were lying on top of him, half-naked and in need. Dean kissed you on the shoulders and adjusted your dress.

You said, unhappy that you had been pushing this off since the morning, “Why not?” You felt okay with it. “Because of your hand?”

When Dean saw that you were being serious, he couldn't stop laughing. As though his cock would stop because his hand was simply injured a little. “Not because of my hand obviously,” Dean remarked. “Like I said, we don't have to rush things, alright?”

“But we've already done it.” You moaned, not pleased with his response, “Twice.” You didn't want to come out as so desperate, but you were no longer bashful.

“Someone is impatient, huh?” With a groan, Dean's hands traveled along your back.

Dean kissed your forehead firmly and then gently put you back in your seat, placing his hand beneath your chin. “All I want to do is make everything perfect because you deserve it. I don't want you to believe that we are only having sex out of passion. That is never the case.”

You replied swiftly, “It already is flawless,” and his comments made your heart sink. He was being so honest about your relationship for the first time, and you forgot about everything else when he acknowledged how much he cared for you. “I would never think otherwise.”

Looking at his hand, you timidly said, “But if you want, you can come inside," before the stillness deepened. “I can check out your bandages.”

Dean teased, “Thought you wouldn't be working for some time.” Before you grabbed your bag and opened the door, you looked at his hand and arched an eyebrow.

With the same humorous tone, you added, “Just because I pity you right now, Mr. Winchester,” before grinning broadly and closing the door on his face while you waited for him to follow you.

Fortunately, Dean used his keys to open the door when you noticed you had left yours inside. He continued making fun of how thrilled you must have been about your little date. You were overjoyed that you kept assuring him it wasn't. Dean wasn't convinced.

You swiftly got what you needed from the restroom as Dean grunted and sat down on the coach. As soon as you sat down next to him and got the fresh bandages ready, you saw that Dean was looking at you with such a lovely expression that you instantly smiled back. Right now, you must have been thinking the same thing. You remembered the night when he took you in this coach without even knowing how much you loved him.

Even though it was completely dark and you couldn't see each other at the time, you knew you were seeing each other in every manner now. It was spiritually as well as physically. Dean was unaware of your love for him at the time, but he now acknowledged your true feelings for him. Your want to be with him was obvious to him. Before you began to remove his bandages, you placed his hand in his palm and gave it a very gentle kiss that caused his eyes to widen in wonder. That moment filled your heart with so much love and powerful sensations. You hoped you could make him realize how much you valued that moment and how much you admired him.

Dean offered you the same caring kiss while placing his hand under your chin, understanding what you were thinking. It was just lovely; it had nothing sexual about it. Dean cracked a smile and said, “Deja vu, huh?” as he drew back.

“It's like yesterday. Time flies,” you whispered as you carefully cared for him, taking care not to hurt him.

Dean remarked regretfully, “I wish I knew,” which caused you to pause. “I would make it perfect, you know, rather than being quick and doing it on a coach in darkness.”

His words instantly made you blush. “It's not important, I told you already,” not pleased that he was still feeling this way. “I'm just glad it was you, Dean.”

“Well, I'm glad about that too.” Seeing that you were still obstinate about it, Dean also sighed.

When you are done, you exhale deeply and place everything on the table after gently looking to his wounded hand. Without wasting any time, Dean embraced you and made you giggle with a playful animal growl he made. He placed a cushion beneath his head and made your body lie on him, as if reenacting the scenario, and now he was lying on the coach. You shifted on Dean a little as he gave you a strong hug that seemed like he would never let you go.

He was surprised by the way you gazed at him. Dean closed his eyes as though in anguish and melted into your touch just as you softly placed one of your palms on his cheek. After seeing his face, you placed your head on his chest in joy, delighted by the way strongly his hands wrapped around you. Dean had no idea when you had begun to affect him in this way. Your touch made him feel so hungry and desperate that he was on the verge of letting out a defeated sigh and asking for more.

As you leaned on his body on your coach, you both glanced at one another without exchanging words. Your eyes brightened as Dean took your hand in his and gently caressed your fingers.

Feeling a little talkative, you asked, “Do you really want to sleep like this?”

“Why not?” Dean grinned right away, reminding you of that night to make you feel bashful. “It's not the first time after all.”

Even though your cheeks turned hot, you couldn't help but smile and ask playfully, “What if the electricity cuts out again? You know, we didn't change our clothes. It might be a little uncomfortable to sleep like this.”

Dean's eyes narrowed at your bold suggestion, and he licked his lips. “Well, if it does cut off, sweetheart, we won't need our clothes at all,” he said in a whisper in your ear while placing his finger beneath your chin. “Your attractive boyfriend will provide for all of your needs.”

By the time he finished his sentence, Dean had planted a kiss on your lips, and you were grinning uncontrollably into the gentle kiss while your heart was beating madly with joy. The scene was so exquisite that you nearly started crying. After Dean treated your wound, you were feeling much the same as when you slept with him in the same coach back in the day. Even though he had touched you, cured you, and taken care of your hand, something severely wounded and damaged your spirit that night without you even recognizing it. But now you felt entirely healed. Everything about Dean—his words, his kisses, his touch—healed you in the most exceptional way.

THE END.

Author's Note: Hi there! Here we are. WASTE is the first Supernatural fiction I ever wrote and the first fic I completed. Fun fact: Although I am aware of all the spoilers, I have only seen the first six or seven episodes of Supernatural. I apologize if I wrote characters 'out of character' . As an asexual, writing romantic material was a little challenging, but please share your thoughts with me. Your feedback inspired me to write a +55K word count series. I WILL UPLOAD TWO OR THREE SPECIAL CHAPTERS! I'm not going to let this go just yet. Those chapters will be SMUTTY. Since this is my first complete series, please let me know what you think. I love you all!

Taglist: @midnightpearlaurora @procrastination20 @faiirynyaa @deangirl96 @steelthespooder @t1asstuff @slut-for-evans-stan @esposamultifandom @rebecca-hvnstn @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @sammyxorae @filmologetica @n-o-p-e-never @stoneyggirl2 @hhiggs @yuckqr @steelthespooder @jaredpadonlyyyy @robynn9436-blog @x3zerochanx3 @lilbloggs @chriszgirl92 @ninii-winchester @monshirev @saturogojosgirl @necrobab3 @simpingfortoomanypeople @casey1-2007 @mystic-mara @kamisobsessed @mavichu @your-mcdonalds-mom13 @crooked-haven @deaniemyboo @queenofmanydreams @suckitands33 @artemys-ackles @thecutestaaakawaii @ladykitana90

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morallygreychaoticneutral · 2 days ago

Text

"If a night of passion is on offer.." It's ok to take it.

I think some passion flower would do nicely for this pot of thought. Does Astarion really want a night of passion or is he people pleasing? Lets steep on it.

WARNING: Game spoilers and talk of S.A..

Hmmm...to be randy or not to be randy. That is the conundrum.

This is not fact, is just opinion based off my own and game experience. As always, how anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right! No blame, no shame, it's your game!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have seen a lot of comments expressing anxiety about whether or not Tav should accept Astarion's proposal for sex in the grave yard.

"Given his past, I'm just not sure he really wants it."

"Is he just doing it because now that Caza..MF is dead he thinks I will leave now that the task is done?"

"Is he feeling insecure in his new freedom?"

"Is it too soon for him to be sexual after so much trauma for so long?"

"Does he mean what he is saying? Or is he being funny?"

I was one of those people. But now that iv had time to ponder it..

One thing to keep in mind is that most (I wont say all) S.A victims can, in time, start to enjoy sex again in safe, secure situations.

Treating them like they are fragile and tip toeing around them isn't fair. It doesn't help them build resilience or help them find a way back to a healthier relationship with sex.

If they are offering, trust them to make that choice.

Lets say you had a bad experience with swimming. You are scared of the water now, but you still love the ocean. You could forsake the water forever, and some do and that's a perfectly right choice, or you find small ways back to it.

Sit by the edge and watch the tide. Chase the tide out then let it chase you back in. Dip just your toes in the water. Then your hands, then your legs etc etc . Until one day you are back in the ocean.

It's the same with sexual interaction. Small steps to build your emotional strength back up.

That's not to say they wont still have pre or postcoital dysphoria from time to time, (fear of drowning) but it does get easier as time goes on. The more the experiences end in happy memories instead of tragic ones, the easier it gets.

So, does it show a lack of empathy to sleep with Astarion in the grave yard?

Nope. I think he actually does want to connect with you sexually.

Why?

Because of the dialogue you have regarding offering him the Astral-Touched tadpole. He says no. Then says...

"I had nothing for so long. Nothing. Not even my own body. I will NOT give it up, now it's mine again."

His face is one of complete conviction. He alone, controls what happens to his body. Who gets to use it, what happens to it, when it happens, where it happens and why it happens. Period.

This happens before you reach the city. Which means se has already regained the ability to say "no" long before graveyard.

Even if you chose to convince him to sleep with you after he asks you not to in his confession, he still asserts the boundary. It may be after the fact, and he leaves you, but it's still there.

So it wouldn't make much sense for him to suddenly back track and start offering sex as a means to manipulate Tav now.

Also, he is not using his "I'm lying out my fangs" face or his "I'm gong to literally seduce the pants off of you" face.

Mask of Lies Mask of Seduction

So, with those two things in mind, and I'm sure there are more, fast forward to that fateful night in the cemetery where he says he wants you to seduce him and...* insert suspenseful music*

BEHOLD!

When he says "If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded" his face is almost exactly the same as when he says "I love you, I love this. And I want it all".

(and there was much rejoicing)

He is not pulling the faces that he uses when he lies or seduces. Which means the offer is sincere. You have, through repetition and consistency, proven to him that you care about him because of who he is to you. Not because of what he can do for you. Which was what he wanted. You are a safe space. "I feel safe with you. Seen." And for our affection starved elf, that's got to be a total turn on.

Also, with Cazador dead, he can let go of the subconscious fear of you being destroyed in some way if he sleeps with you.

He can make love to you with all the feelings he's ever had to repress involved. And for the first time in 200 years, not have the fear of it being ripped away any second, or being punished for it, by that monster or himself.

Here, on his new birthday, where his new life starts, he choses to experience you.

So put the doubt down and go get some grave dirt in places it shouldn't be.

And get some saucy elf in places you want him to be.

But, a graveyard? Really?

Why not? Where else would be more appropriate to have a "little death" with someone? *wink*

Or it could be that fact that your bedroom has more people in it than a clown car. Needs must..

Oh, but do keep a look out for Gracie, the grave yard guard. She has a low tolerance for mischief.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #spawn astarion #baulders gate 3 #my headcanons #pale elf

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robo-writing · 1 day ago

Note

helloooo

I’ve recently gotten into call of duty and I make a humble request 🕺

could I have a ghost x afab!reader who’s usually innocent and stuff, but tries to seduce him or something? Take your time!! I love your work

I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to people saying they love my writing 🥹

His squadmates check up on him occasionally—especially Soap, nosey as he is. For everything that they've gone through together they practically know nothing about Simon, and he likes it this way. Not to say that he doesn't trust them, but because Simon's a solitary creature, nothing more. However, it's surprising to the entire team when he off-handedly mentions that he's picked up a new hobby recently—bird-watching.

Immediately questions are fired off, but much to everyone's annoyance Simon only smiles as he takes another swig of beer. They almost suspect him of lying; he's not. His favorite past-time is making his way to his local haunt—9:00 pm sharp, every Friday—all to watch the pretty little bird behind the bar. He hasn’t missed a day, a regular customer every week for the past three months.

He likes the atmosphere, he likes how no one seems to ask questions about the 6’4 beast that orders his whiskey neat and sits alone in the corner—even more than that, he likes how you greet him with a smile every time he walks through the door.

Adorable really, how you fly about the bar, chirping out orders at the speed of light. More than once he’s had the opportunity to talk to you, and more than once have you averted your eyes from him, made yourself busy in hopes that you could hide the obvious attraction written on your face.

It never works, but he likes that about you.

He likes how you stumble over your words, how you meekly offer him a refill once his glass is empty, how your face lights up when he purposely lets his fingers touch your own when you set down a new glass. It's easy to let his mind wander knowing how easily riled up you are, and let it wander he does. Sensitive little birdy, he thinks to himself. Wonder how you'd react if his fingers were stroking your clit instead.

His pretty little birdie, shy little thing you are. So shy that you can’t bring yourself to express your little crush with words, but it’s alright—he knows—and he's willing to play this game for as long as you want it to go on. He's a patient man. It's February now, and it seems as if you're ready for this game to end. Among the red streamers and paper hearts that decorate the bar is you, and the cute red set you're so excited to show him. "I got the boss to sign off on it, see?" You ramble excitedly, stepping away for a single moment to show off your low-cut top and jeans to match. "Isn't it so cute?" He's the only one that gets this special treatment, the sight of you doing a 360 almost enough to make him reach across the bar. "Mhm," he agrees, far too engrossed in the shape of your ass than the color of your outfit. "Y'look amazing birdie." You bow your head in embarrassment at the nickname, unable to see how Simon's lips curl upward in response. "How am I supposed to react when you say things like that..." "It's a compliment. I don't say shit I don't mean." Again, you feel your face heat up at the implication, surprising yourself with a sudden burst of confidence. "You really mean that, don't you?" "I do. You think I don't?" "I think you're a flirt," you reply, the timbre of his voice sending shivers up your spine when he answers— "I'd be more than happy to prove just how honest I am, birdie." The look he sends you is nothing short of a promise, eyes boring into your own as he takes a sip. He knows, and you're willing to guess that he's known for a while based how how quick he is to laugh at your befuddled expression. "That's—I mean—" He sets his glass down slowly, tilting his head towards you. "Am I reading something wrong here?" You stumble over your words, barely muttering out a meek little "no" under your breath as he leans in close, enough to smell the liquor on his breath. "So, if I ain't wrong, feel free to meet me in the back after closing. I'd hate for you to think I'm a liar." Hours later, he found the answer to the question of how you'd react with his fingers against your clit—turns out you're even more sensitive than he imagined.

#robo writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #this kinda strayed from the theme a bit sowwy :3

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daisymbin · 19 hours ago

Note

hi!! may i request 39(angst prompt) with wonwoo but with a happy ending please🥺💖

of course lovely!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

angst prompt #39: "why are you pushing me away?"

wonwoo’s been watching you from across the room, his fingers curled tightly around the edge of his drink. your laugh rings out, light and sweet, but it doesn’t reach him. it hasn’t reached him in weeks.

he doesn’t know when it started. the distance between you. the hesitance in your smile when you see him. the way you pull away from his touch like it burns. it’s suffocating, the way it all sits heavy on his chest, and he feels like if he doesn’t say something now, he might never get the chance.

so he crosses the room.

you notice him too late. he sees the way your shoulders stiffen, the way your expression flickers between surprise and something that looks like dread.

“can we talk?” he asks, his voice quiet, but firm.

“now?” you glance at your friends, at mingyu who’s watching the two of you with an expression that’s too knowing.

“yeah.”

you don’t argue. you never do, and that’s the part that kills him the most.

he leads you outside, to the quiet balcony where the noise of the party fades into the background. the cold air bites at his skin, but it does nothing to numb the ache in his chest.

“wonwoo, if this is about—”

“why are you pushing me away?” he cuts you off, his voice trembling despite himself.

your mouth opens, then closes. your eyes dart to the ground, and you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to shield yourself from him.

“i’m not,” you say finally, but the words sound hollow even to you.

“you are,” he presses, stepping closer. “and i don’t—I don’t understand why. did i do something? say something? because if i did, just tell me, and i’ll fix it.”

“it’s not that simple, wonwoo.”

“then make it simple,” he says, his voice breaking at the edges. “please. i can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not. not when it feels like you’re already halfway out the door.”

your breath hitches, and he sees the way your hands tremble as you grip the railing.

“i’m not good for you,” you whisper, and the words hit him like a punch to the gut. “you deserve someone who’s... better. someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“what are you talking about?” his voice cracks, but he doesn’t care. “you think you don’t love me enough? you think you’re not enough? where are you getting this? where is this even coming from?”

you turn away, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and pull you back.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “and i feel like that’s all i ever do.”

“you don’t,” he says immediately, but you shake your head like you don’t believe him.

“i do, wonwoo. i see it. in the way you look at me, like you’re scared i’m gonna disappear. and i—” your voice wavers. “i don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”

he takes a shaky breath, his hands clenching at his sides.

“you’re not,” he says firmly, stepping closer again. “you’re the opposite of that. every time you smile, every time you laugh, even if it’s not at me, it’s enough to make my day. you’re the one thing in my life that feels like home, and you think you’re hurting me?”

you turn to look at him then, your eyes wide and glassy, and it shatters something in him.

“if i’m scared, it’s because i don’t want to lose you,” he continues, his voice softer now, pleading. “but if you push me away, that’s what’s going to hurt. not being with you—that’s what’ll break me.”

he watches as your defenses crumble, piece by piece, until you’re standing there with tears streaming down your cheeks and an expression so raw it makes his chest ache.

“i’m scared, too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“then let’s be scared together,” he says, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. “we’ll figure it out. i don’t care how long it takes or how hard it gets. i just—i just want to be with you.”

you let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“you make it sound so easy.”

“because it is,” he says, stepping closer until he’s right in front of you. “as long as we’re together, it is.”

you let out a breath, one that sounds like it’s been trapped in your chest for far too long, and then you’re closing the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest.

he freezes for a moment, like he’s afraid this is some kind of cruel dream, but then his arms come up around you, holding you tightly against him.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble against his sweater.

“don’t be,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “just stay.”

you nod, and he feels your arms tighten around him.

he doesn’t know what the future holds, but in this moment, with you in his arms and your walls finally coming down, he thinks maybe—just maybe—it’s going to be okay.

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lemon-berri · 1 day ago

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A Side That Only You Get to See

Most people know Satoru Gojo as the strongest sorcerer. A formidable force, renowned for his power. Respected by sorcerers and feared by curses and curse users alike. To those who do not know him, he's paramount to a legend. Untouchable. Unreachable.

While the people who work closely with him know another side. The irreverent, goofy sorcerer who fools around on the job and plays pranks on his colleagues. They're all too familiar with his boisterous laugh and unconventional ways. And while his students still respect him, they're comfortable around him like they might be with a friend, or a family member.

That's who he is. A warm personality that lights up a room. Someone who cares deeply for those around him, even if his ways of showing it are unusual. Someone who wants to improve the world around him.

But nobody knows the Gojo you do.

The one who comes home in the early hours of the morning, just to rest in his partners arms. Who's sometimes late to work because he cannot bring himself to let you go. He's enraptured by your touch, lulled into peace by your scent. He's quiet at home, a stark contrast to his usual personality. But he prefers to bask in your presence, to listen to your voice as you tell him about your day, or whatever new interest you've picked up.

The sorcerer who comes home from missions a day early without telling anyone so he can steal some more time with the one he loves. Who plans elaborate surprises, cooks for you and buys you a fresh bouquet every week. He prefers a quiet night at home rather than going out. That way he gets more of your attention.

The Gojo who's easily bored, because he's naturally good at everything, but still takes part in your hobbies and interests. He lets you teach him things he already knows, and sometimes pretends to mess up just so he can see the passion in your eyes as you explain where he went wrong. His cerulean eyes light up whenever you show him something you've created, and he'll buy you all the supplies you need, if only to see that smile.

Your Satoru, who's love language is physical touch. Who, before meeting you, had kept a barrier between himself and the rest of the world for so long that he'd become afraid to let it down. Who now clings onto you whenever you're home. He gets pouty if you're in sight but not touching him - so make sure to pay extra attention to his facial expressions.

Truly, if anyone else saw him like this he wouldn't care. He's not ashamed to show the world how much he loves you. But a part of him likes the way things are. Its like a secret, between just the two of you. As if your home exists in a world of its own, away from all the curses and higher ups and daily stress. So for now, he'll save his soft side, just for you. A side that only you get to see.

Soooooo I sorta went MIA for a few weeks.. but as we already established I do not have a post schedule so it's okay (right?).

Thank you guys for reading this! As usual it's not proofread and if you point out my spelling mistakes I'll leave and never come back.

Ily all 🩵

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #fluffy fluff #the fluffiest #my glorious blue eyed king #gojo x reader fluff #jjk x reader #soft gojo #gojo satoru x reader #i love him

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xetlynn · 2 days ago

Text

JJK Imagines- Saturo Gojo

Pink Panties

⚠️Warning🔞: SMUT (My first time writing it so... sorry if it's not the best) Summary: You’re a sharp tongued woman who doesn’t put up with Gojo’s flirting…

[jjk] [main page]

Contains: afab, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, f!recieving oral.

I make my way to meet with Principal Yaga. Gojo is supposed to be there as well but I doubt it due to him just getting back from a mission and that usually means he makes some sort of excuse to miss it.

I entered the room, I’m surprised to actually see Gojo sitting there with Principal Yaga. Both of them look up to me. “Surprised to see me? Hm~” The white haired idiot asks with a smile on his face. I rolled my eyes, sitting on the other side of the table as Yaga was in between us. “What’s the meaning of this?” I immediately questioned, avoiding the area of the teacher who was trying to get my attention.

“There’s a mission in Osaka that needs to be taken care of. Needs two sorcerers to take care of this mess.” Yaga explains, I take in a sharp breath. He knows how I feel about leaving my students. “How long will this take, do you estimate?” I furrow my brows.

“About three days, depending on how you two work together.” He answers, I glance over to my coworker who gives me a small wave. My expression drops even further than it already has. “This is going to take a week.” I stand up, slamming my hand on the table. “Oh, be excited [Name]! You get to work with the strongest! It will take two days I guarantee.” Gojo says after me as I walk away. “You leave tonight!” Yaga shouts loud enough for us to hear.

“I know how much you hate being away from our precious children.” He clasps his hands together striding behind me as I fume with anger. Being stuck with this man for longer than an hour is enough torture for me. “Our students.” I corrected him, “they’re doing amazing. I believe they will be okay without us for a week.” I turn the corner.

“You keep saying a week I think that’s the amount of time you want to spend with me.” He snickers, attempting to lean on me but I punch him in his gut. His infinity stopped me from actually touching him though. Only causing him to laugh even more. “You always try that. Always fail.” He teases me.

“You��re very irritating, Gojo.” I open the door to a lounge, going to sit on the first chair I see. “Mm, I think you secretly enjoy my presence.” He heads over to the fridge, pulling the door open. “In your dreams.” I mutter, I take my phone out to see a message from Shoko. “You do seem to have made a habitat in my mind whilst I sleep.” He picks up something from the bottom shelf of the fridge. Walking over to sit in front of me.

Later in the night Gojo and I stand in front of the school, and Ichiji pulls up, rolling his window down. “Why doesn’t Gojo use his Blue to get to Osaka?” He questions as the both of us throw our bags in the passenger seat since they were only backpacks. “Because he has to be up my ass whenever he can and I don’t like the feeling of being teleported.” I spit out, climbing into the back seat of the car. Gojo follows right behind me.

“I would love to be-”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you, Gojo Saturo.” I point a finger in his face, clicking my seatbelt on and Ichiji begins to drive. “No need to get hostile, beautiful.” He compliments sweetly, also clicking his seatbelt on.

“Shut up.” I tell him, adjusting myself so I’m facing the window, leaning my head on my hand to fall asleep comfortably but also making sure I get nowhere near the man beside me.

As I keep my eyes shut I finally fall asleep after twenty minutes of being on the road.

When we got to our destination I woke up to Gojo’s hand in the middle of the seats. I glare down at it. It looks like it was expecting to be held. I then look up to him already facing me with a smile. “Was my hand tempting you, beautiful?” He lifts his hand up, wiggling his fingers. “Almost as tempting as punching you in the face.” I got out of the car not before thanking Ichiji. He hands me my bag in response with a short nod.

We were standing in front of a hotel. “I hope they only gave us one bed. How romantic would that be?” Gojo nudges me and I give him an angry expression. “You would sleep on the floor.” I pushed him away from me, surprisingly his infinity was off. We head inside, a lady sitting at the front desk with a bored look on her face.

“Reservation for Gojo and [Last Name].” I give her a polite smile. She looks up to me with the same bored expression. “Hm?” She then eyes me up and down then over to Gojo. I watch as her body language shifts. A grin now on her face, posture straighter and I immediately drop my smile. Sighing.

“What did you say your reservation name was, sir?” She motions for Gojo to answer. His face contorts at first. “I didn’t say anything.” He tells her. He kind of shocked me with his response. Normally he’d soak up any type of attention he got from a woman.

“She did though, didn’t you, beautiful?” He places a hand on my back. I scrunch my nose in disgust. “Gojo and [Last Name].” I grumble out, shimmying away from his touch. “Oh, sorry ma’am.” She types away on her computer. “Ah, room 404. Here you are.” She hands me the keycard. “Thanks.” I take it, walking away now with an attitude because of whatever that interaction was.

“Ouu fourth floor! Hopefully we have a balcony.” Gojo excitedly says, pressing the button for the elevator. “We’re only here to sleep.” I remind him. “Ah, I don’t need much sleep so it’d be nice to have the balcony while you sleep. Unless you want me in the room. I wouldn’t mind either actually. Both would have nice views!” He exclaims as we enter the elevator, he presses the button with a 4 on it.

“I hope we have a balcony.” I mumble under my breath, I hear him quietly laugh to himself. “Glad we can agree.” He says. The elevator dings and we exit. Our room was only two doors down. Not much walking.

I swipe the keycard and open the door. I smile at the sight. Two beds. “Thank you, Yaga.” I put my hands together happily. “Awe man.” Gojo throws his bag on his bed as I jump on mine. “At least you got your balcony.” I motion to the tiny balcony that could only fit two people standing up. “This sucks. I’m going down there and getting us a better room asap.” He grumbles, and I laugh.

“Oh calm down you baby, I made it look smaller than it was.” I snap my fingers and the balcony grows to its actual width. “That was not nice, beautiful.” He wiggles his finger in disapprovement. “Wasn’t meant to be.” I shrug my shoulders before digging into my backpack. “I’m going to take a shower, don't do anything stupid.” I take my pajamas out and head to the bathroom. “Don’t take too long! I’ll miss you!” He calls after me, I flip him off before entering the room.

I shut the door behind me and set my stuff down. I let out a huff, this is going to be a long mission. I can feel it. I turn the water on and stare at it, watching it until I see steam so I can then take my clothes off. I throw the dirty clothes in the corner before getting in the shower.

It was a quick shower, somehow I feel tired all over again even though I just slept five to six hours in the car.

I get dressed into a sweater and go to pick up my underwear but I don’t see it in my little pile. I glance around the bathroom hoping I dropped it in here. “Shit.” I whisper. Hopefully I left it in my bag and didn’t drop it out there. I slip my shorts on and pick up my dirty clothes to put it in a plastic bag I have in my backpack. I swung open the door and Gojo was standing there with my panties in his hand. A large grin plastered on his face.

I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning in embarrassment. “Forgot something, hm?” He dangles it in front of my face and I glare at him. “You’re not funny.” I go to snatch it but he lifts it up higher. “They seem to be brand new, never worn before?” He observes the light pink cotton panties. “Gojo, please.” I reach to grab them again but he just lifts it up once again.

“Answer my question.” He sticks his tongue in between his teeth, genuinely waiting. I give him an “are you serious?” look and he just nods his head.

“I- No, I’ve worn them a few times.” My face heats up, I push past him and put my dirty clothes on my bed. “Can I just have them, please.” I stick my hand out but he shrugs his shoulders. “How badly do you want them, beautiful?” He asks.

“Gojo, this isn’t funny.” I walk over to him attempting to jump up and grab them. “You’re going to have to try a little harderrr~” He snickers. I only brought one other pair because I figured I could use a washing machine if we needed to stay longer. And that was my one other pair.

I get on top of the bed and go to snatch it since I was higher up but it only causes him to pick me up.

As a reflex I wrap my legs around his waist still trying to grab the stupid pair of underwear. “Beautiful if you wanted me to carry you I would’ve done so.” He continues to tease me and I just roll my eyes in response. “I can’t believe I’m feeding into your fantasies you pervert.” I finally grab the pair of underwear and I hold it tight in my hand so he can’t snatch it back.

“Got them.” I grunt, unwrapping my legs and jumping down. His hand was on my back to steady me. I looked up at him and his blindfold was down to his neck now. I didn’t even realize that it fell. “That was unnecessary.” I shove him but he barely moves. “Mm, to you.” He steps closer to me. “I would love to see you in those pink little panties.” He whispers as he looks down at me.

“I’m sure you do.” I whisper back, not looking away from him.

“You’re not wearing panties at all right now are you?” He questions, his eyes traveling down to my legs. My shorts were hidden under my large sweater. “That’s none of your business.” I avoid the stupid question.

“I got my answer.” He snickers, I didn’t even realize how close he was. His nose inches from my own. I’ve never thought of Gojo this way. I mean he just played around with my own underwear from me. I should be wanting to kill him. But I can feel my own arousal…

I pressed my thighs together to get some sort of friction as Gojo Saturo, the man I hated, was staring me down. “Let me help you with your… little problem.” He hesitantly places his hand on my hip, when he sees I’m not going to stop him he gently lifts my sweater up so he can feel my skin. His fingers are squeezing at my flesh. I subtly gasp at the coldness of his fingertips.

“Are you going to stop me?” He tilted his head, his voice was sultry and smooth. A different tone from what I’m used to. I avoid eye contact, shaking my head ‘no.’

His other hand lifts up to my face, his fingers grabbing my chin, forcing me to look back up to him. “I need an answer, beautiful. With words.” He orders.

“Just fucking touch me, Gojo.” I tell him through grinding teeth, not believing that left my mouth. He licks his lips with a smile, his hands pushing me to the bed. “Saturo, don’t call me Gojo during this.” He then finally closes the distance between us by kissing my lips. He guides me further on the bed so he can kneel on the edge, not unlocking our kiss doing so.

His hands grip onto my hips, pulling me as close as possible to him.

After what felt like hours of making out he pulls away, he roughly takes his shirt off, throwing it on the ground. I then do the same thing, just wanting this to happen sooner.

“No bra either? I’m starting to think you left your panties on the ground on purpose~” He satirized me, his hands immediately found my boobs, his mouth on mine once again. “So soft.” He whines in between kisses.

He then kisses the corner of my mouth, going down to my neck. “I’m going to make you feel so good you’ll never have a mean thing to say ever again.” He promises, I let out a shaky breath feeling his lips kiss in between my breasts, trailing all the way down to my shorts. “Let’s see what’s down here.” He smiles to himself, tapping my thighs indicating that I need to lift up. I do so and he yanks my shorts off abruptly. I let out a small yelp due to the coldness hitting me down there. My legs were spread since he was in between them. Giving him an automatic view of my pussy.

“It’s prettier than I ever imagined.” He cooed, his left hand was holding onto my thigh as he got closer down. His stomach now on the bed. His face inches from my core. His other hand traced around my pussy, teasing me. My hole clenching around nothing, waiting for some sort of action. “Oh, you gotta be patient [Name]... I’ve been wanting this for a long, long time.” He bites his lips, admiring me from down there. I hide my face in my hands. “Shut up.” I pull a pillow to me to put my head on it. “Don’t be shy now.” He chuckles, before I even get myself fully situated I feel his lips connected to my clit.

My leg jerks from the sudden contact and his hand grabs my ankle to keep it still. He plants kisses on my sweet spot. “You’re soaking already.” He enthusiastically mutters, his tongue now diving in. I instinctively grab his hair in response. “Go- Saturo…” I moaned out.

He begins to suck at my clit, his little whimpers he let out vibrating causing even more pleasure for me. I hump my hips into his mouth as he practically makes out with my cunt.

My fingers massage into his scalp, taking ahold a handful of hair. Tugging on it as he gets faster. “Saturo, please.. Please keep going, keep going!” I beg, throwing my head back. I heard him mumble something but I couldn’t make it out.

Then I feel two digits enter my soaking, lonesome hole as his tongue plays with my bud. His fingers begin to scissor inside of me, going in and out whilst stretching me out. “Don’t stop, I’m almost there!” I squeal out, not able to say it any other way. My other hand found his hair. I attempt to bring him closer, grinding myself on his face.

“I’m almost there, i’m almost there!” I cry, tears actually brimming my eyes. He hums out loud as his fingers get faster. His head moved side to side, his nose adding extra satisfaction. I feel him try to lift his head but I push him back.

His laugh muffled as he does what I want him to do. My tummy tightens and I feel like I’m about to explode. “Oh I’m cu- cumming! I’m cumming!” I call out senselessly. My hips roll, riding out my orgasm. He pulls his head back but still fingering me, making it even more intense than there being nothing. “Did that feel good, beautiful?” His fingers stop their movement but don’t leave my pussy, his palm now laying on my clit as he comes up to kiss me.

“Taste yourself? Taste that?” He sloppily makes out with me. “Hm?”

“Mhm.” I tiredly respond, feeling slightly fucked out already and it was only the beginning. “I want you to taste how amazing you are.” He pulls his fingers that were once in my cunt up to my lips. “Suck them.” He demands, tracing his fingers around my lips before shoving them into my mouth. My tongue wraps around them and I begin to slurp up my own juices. My eyes never leave his.

His pupils dilated to where I could barely see the bright blinding blue. “What a sight.” He grins, taking his fingers away with a pop after exiting my mouth. “I need to be inside you.” He groans, he gets off the bed to shove his pants off impatiently. I observe him as my hands go to my boobs, my fingers toying with my nipples.

His dick springs out once his boxers go down with his pants, I notice the pre-cum already oozing out making the redness of his tip more prominent. I bite my lip as my mouth waters at the sight. “Like what you see?” Saturo winks, I roll my eyes. “I got so into eating you out I didn’t even notice my blindfold.” He laughs at himself, taking his blindfold off from it being around his neck. “It got some of your juices on it.” He pouts, throwing it on top of his pants. “What a messy girl.” He crawls back on the bed and in between my legs.

I look away embarrassed but he grips my jaw, making me look back at him. “I want you to watch me fuck your little pretty pussy.” He commands, letting my face go to smack my thighs open even more for him. “Just look at that.”

He takes his cock into his hand, smacking it on my clit. I jolt since I was still sensitive from the orgasm I just had. “I need you to watch, remember beautiful.” His hand goes to the back of my neck lifting me to get a better look at his thick mushroom tip entering my desperate hole.

“You’re taking too long.” I complain, wiggling down for him to fill me up.

“Oh yeah? Too needy for this cock huh?” His hand drops my neck and goes to my hip along with his other one. “Yes, please. Come on, idiot.” I frown. “Back to those mean names, beautiful? They really hurt my feelings, you know.” Then before I could spit back he thrusts forward, now fully sheathed into me. I yelp in response, grabbing onto his hands.

“I really have to dick you down senseless just to be nice to me?” He pulls back to where his cock is almost out of me. “I- Fuck you.” I spew out. “That’s what I’m about to do, beautiful.” He harshly thrusts back into me, now keeping a steady pace.

“Have anything to say now, meanie?” He huffs, squeezing my hips to bring them close to him as he’s already maliciously bullying my walls. His tip repeatedly hit that perfect g-spot in the back. All he gets in response is a dumb-ified set of moans that get knocked out from the rough hits.

Skin to skin loudly smacking. Almost sounding like it’s echoing in this hotel room.

I feel stupid with how I couldn’t respond to him. My hands finding their way to his sides, clawing at them from how intense everything feels.

“I- I’m clo-se! Harder!” I wrap my legs around his waist.

I close my eyes, taking in the feeling that’s in my stomach once again but before I get there I feel emptiness in my core. My eyes shoot open. “Wha- Why’d you do that?” I angrily ask him. He laughs, picking me up. “Turn around.” He does a little spin with his finger. I get onto my knees, my ass touching the heels of my feet.

“Say please.” I cross my arms, not liking the way he just talked to me. “Beautiful if you want to feel that orgasm, do as said.” He glances to the spot in the bed of where he wants me. “Say please first.” I argue with him. “Don’t make me force you now.” He pouts, but when I don’t move he sighs.

Seconds later his hands grab my waist, moving where I was to then shove my torso down leaving my ass in the air. His hand travels to my head, pushing it even further into the sheets as his dick re-enters my pussy. I let out a relieved moan.

It doesn’t last long when he begins pounding into me. His hand still pushing my face into the bed, his other grabbing my ass, playing with it like it was a fun toy.

My hand goes down to my clit, rubbing it so I can feel my orgasm. “Saturooo, faster.” I plead. “Faster? He repeats, I nod my head. “I need your words!” He sings.

“Fuck me faster!” I yell out, bringing my ass to meet his pelvis. He lets go of my head and smacks my ass, grabbing onto my hips to fuck me at an unfathomable pace. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I grip onto the sheet as I also rub my clit. “Almost there?”

“Mhm, keep going.” I fuck my ass back to meet him once again. He mutters out profanities, his thrusts getting sloppier. “I’m close to.” He tells me.

“Move your hand.” He swats my hand that was attached to my clit to replace it with his own getting me closer. “Fuck!” I cry out, arching my back when I feel all the little butterflies in my stomach erupt wildly. I hear my pussy squelch loudly. “Where do you want my cum?” He grunts, as his takes his fingers back from my clit. His dick still pumping in and out of me. “Inside,” I murmur, tucking my thighs together making it tighter for him. “Shit.” He whimpers.

“I’ll give it all to you.” He humps into me at a quick pace once again. I cry out, feeling another orgasm coming. “Gonna fill this pussy to the brim.”

“You want that don’t you? You want Saturo Gojo’s cum filled deep inside that cunt.” He says, never relenting. “I wa-want it, give it to mee~”

“Yeah, here, here ohmygoddd~” His hips connect to my ass, grabbing my hips to pull me as close as possible so his load travels deep inside me. I wiggle my hips to feel his cock massage around my walls. “Fuck, beautiful…” He hovers over me, grabbing my neck to pull me in for a messy kiss before slowly slipping out of me.

I feel a mixture of our cum spilling out of my cunt. He pulls away to watch it. I turn my head to see his expression. He then takes the cum and pushes it back into my hole.

I lay my legs down so he can’t see it anymore. “Awe, got shy again?” He giggles, wiping some of the cum onto my ass. “You’re so weird.” I mumble into the bed, feeling my eyes get heavy. “Let me clean you up before you go to sleep, [Name].” He gets up off of the bed. I hear him in the bathroom and the sink water turns on for a few moments and then he comes back. “Lift your hips, beautiful.” He taps my ass. I lay there for a moment wondering if I should be a smart ass or not but he beats me to it when he says “please.”

I smirk, doing as he told me to and he cleans the cum up with a wet rag before cleaning himself and throwing the cum rag on the ground. I flinch in disgust.

I tiredly sit up as he puts his boxers back on before laying down on the bed. I lay on top of him, pulling the covers over us. “Not even going to get dressed in those pink panties?” He says coyly. “Shhh.” I put my finger to his lips, I feel him kiss it as I doze off.

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revelboo · 2 days ago

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what is your worst "hear me out" for transformers? mine is tarantulas like a spider in irl hell no… but a big robot spider thats hot

Probably Tarantulas (I love his Earthspark design) or IDW Waspinator.

I read Windblade for Metroplex lore and it reminded me of this messed up, fatally gullible mech that is everyone’s punching bag and just knows it.

Worker Bee

IDW Waspinator x Reader

• Dragging his broken body, his alt mode scrabbles for purchase in the leaf litter. It’s hard to focus on much besides the pain and finding somewhere safe to hide and heal. He’s not even sure what he did, only that Skywarp had pointed at him right before Megatron went ballistic on him and the two other Decepticons that had been close by. Maybe he had done something wrong. He must have. “Waspinator’s fault,” he rasps, antenna flicking because there’s light up ahead, a building where he’ll be out of the snow just beginning to fall. Leaving the tree line, he drags himself inside, legs scrabbling and knocking over a metal can that clatters as it goes rolling and he collapses on the straw inside. So tired, burrowing in.

• Looking up from your book at the noise, you groan because the raccoons are back and they’ve tipped over the trash can. It’s late and you just want to ignore it and deal with it in the morning, but there might be garbage strewn across the yard by then. Standing, you tug on a coat, grab a flashlight, and a rifle just in case it’s a bear, not cute little trash pandas raiding your garbage. You’d left the barn door open apparently and you find the can turned over, but its contents not scattered everywhere. Maybe the sound scared them off? Setting the gun down, you right the can and turn as something shifts within the hay, rising slowly to tower over you.

• There’s a human with a weapon. Here to hurt him, because everyone does. They always do. It hurts to transform and reach for the human, but his injuries throw him off balance and he crashes down, knocking the little organic sprawling with him. And you’re screaming at him, your fear jangling through him making him curl forward, servos over his head. Waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. “Not hurt Waspinator?”

• Hyperventilating as the monster lifts its big head slightly, you can’t even scream. Voice overlayed with slow buzz, the thing had spoken. It’s gigantic, seizing your ankle when you try to crawl away and dragging you back, looming over you. All you can do is hold up your hands in supplication as those awful mandibles work and those glowing optics stare. “Don’t hurt me.”

• This is new. Someone afraid of him? It should make him feel powerful to be the one feared for once, but it just makes him oddly ill. Sitting up and gingerly touching the wound in his torso sluggishly bleeding energon, he makes a buzzing click of his mandibles. “No hurt,” he says as you scramble to your hands and knees to put some distance between you. “Already hurt,” he adds tiredly, and you hesitate in your retreat. Staring at the energon welling through his servos. You take a hand through your hair, expression twisting.

• All you have to do is run like hell. That thing, Waspinator it had called itself, is hurt too badly to chase you. But there’s something about its defeated tone that makes you feel guilty. This isn’t your problem. Big and scary was already hurt when he crashed in your barn. So why do you go over to the workbench and retrieve a roll of duct tape? He hisses at you, rearing back when you try to touch him and you freeze. “Cut that out,” you snap and his antenna flatten back. Not hurt Waspinator? You’d guessed with the way he’d worded that question that maybe he’s used to being hurt. That he’d fold if you acted aggressive and you were right. It’s unsettling to see a giant, metal death bug cringe like a puppy being scolded. But he doesn’t make a peep as you find the hole in his metal side and gingerly tape the leaking lines, trying to not think too closely on what you’re touching or that your hands are inside him rooting around. “Waspinator, right?” The way he’s just staring down at you with those wide glowing optics just cements in your head that he’s a big, really ugly puppy.

#transformers x reader #waspinator #Waspinator x reader

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oikawaweon · 2 days ago

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fragile ft. fushiguro megumi

pairing: f.megumi x female reader genre: angst/fluff word count: 6,1k synopsis: in a slow, fragile basis of the beginning of your relationship, life with megumi has been nothing but ordinary. and in between drunken confessions, he finds out how you feel destined to be an afterthought, and how much he loves you pains him to see you like that. warnings: college!au, mentions of cheating and self-deprecation, drinking. angst with a tiny bit of comfort. might be ooc idk idc.

if you had to describe your current status with megumi in one word, you'd probably have an internal battle about how to define it.

you wouldn't call it weak because even if you had been officially together for nearly four months now, the way your bond and mutual understanding were getting dangerously stronger every day, you swore you could've trusted your life on megumi the moment you crossed paths with him. it was eager and hot-blooded, and you were unsure about what would be next, but you sure wanted it to be with him and him only.

you also wouldn't exactly call it delicate because the intensity of whatever process you two were crossing now—hands intertwined, still learning about each other—made it a sweet type of harsh and a soft type of powerful, just like the desire to get to know him even more and melt into him.

and if it really had to be one word only, you'd stick with fragile. fragile, because you were still visited by ghosts of past wounds and you knew it was the same for megumi. fragile, because you knew well he had his own trammels and issues, and while you loved that part of him as well, what if love wasn't enough for him to let you in? fragile, because a part of you still found it impossible to believe he could actually fall for you the way he swore he had.

you were at your apartment bathroom, putting on your makeup and finishing the last touches, checking up if anything was missing. suddenly, the little visit that came over a couple of hours ago before you'd go out with your friends knocked briefly on the open door to poke his head inside.

"i was thinking, and maybe... i thought i'd like to accompany you this time". megumi peeped at himself in the bathroom mirror, adjusting a stray of his hair to keep it in place. he was dressed up and hair combed, looking all pretty for you.

you turned your head to look directly at him with undeniable joy and surprise. "there's no way".

"seriously. i'm dead serious". he stared right at you, appreciating your look with amused eyes. you took a step closer to analyze his expression and confirm this was indeed, not a joke.

"who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend"

"but it's me!", he responded with an offended chuckle. "unless you don't want me to go with you, which i'd understand-"

"for god's sake megumi, i'm literally so happy right now you wouldn't understand!", you chanted before jumping into his embrace and smelling his perfume.

he sappily smiled from ear to ear with his eyes shuttled, internally awarding himself for making you happy. oh, how he loved seeing you like that.

now it was a lively evening, filled with laughter, chatter, and the faint buzz of music pulsing through the bar's walls. megumi hadn’t been one to attend many of your mutual friends’ meetings, but tonight, it was almost as if he felt the urge to be part of the crowd, if only for your sake. he knew you'd usually thrive in social situations, smile lighting up the room, and easy laughter filling every empty space with a warmth that seemed to draw people in. and since he, for once in his life, decided to go out with you by his side, tonight you were in your element considering it'd probably wouldn't happen again anytime soon.

by the time the middle of the night was reached, you were starting to get visibly tipsy, your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, and your movements just a little looser and carefree. your partner stayed by your side, engaging in conversation occasionally and offering a sense of security through the place with magnetic energy, keeping you in his orbit. he had poured himself a single drink earlier in the evening—just enough to take the edge off the social setting, but nothing that would leave him out of control. the truth was, tonight he preferred to keep his mind sharp and stay observant, especially at a gathering like this. a part of him knew he had to take care of you, and the other one simply wanted to remember this night out with detail. he held a glass in his hand, nursing it while watching over you, with a drunk itadori blabber-mouthing into his ear. he didn't need more than this.

however, as the night went on, megumi found himself a little on edge. you'd already laughed so hard at some brain-rotted thing toge was talking about, nearly dropping off your glass on the table, only to grab your boyfriend's arm dramatically like he was your lifeline.

“megumiii”, you whispered as loud as you could. “did you hear that one? i think it was the funniest shit ever. i mean, ever.”

“you’re at your limit” he muttered back with a concerned, but amused tone. you scrunched your nose and shook your head with a pout, not paying much attention to what he was saying.

“i’m fine,” you insisted, holding up a finger and pushing it into your chest with such determination that you swore he almost believed it (he clearly didn't). “totally…totally fine”.

he chuckled at your motions, and eventually, sensing you might need a break, your boyfriend gently nudged you and spoke to your ear.

“you know... i'm done with the chill guy jokes now. how about some fresh air?”

you stared at him for a second. "you're seriously so boring", you said with a delighted tone before standing up and grabbing his arm to pull him into you and bring him to the stairs at the corner of the bar.

you waved back at the table with a muttered "we'll be right back", and once you reached the stairs, step by step, he pulled a hand to put a firm hold on your waist to prevent you from falling down, his lips wandering all over your arm giving little pecks wherever he could reach.

once on the second floor of the building, the terrace welcomed both of you with the cool night air, a reprieve from the warmth of the salon downstairs. you clung to megumi's arm, looking up at him with a sparkling, slightly hazy look, one he was starting to recognize as a tipsy declaration of love waiting to happen. you leaned against him, letting out a small, content sigh as he gazed at the streetlights and the stars above.

your eyes wandered for a while before finding a nice spot to spend the time: a balcony, away from the noise and chaos inside. you leaned your elbows on the railing, and while you were gazing out at the city lights, megumi looked at the way the wind tousled your hair, the faint smile on your lips as you swayed a little, and even seemed to notice your distant expression, guessing that you might have started to dissociate and were somewhere far away. he stood beside you, leaning slightly closer and letting the quiet of the night settle around him.

you began talking, idly at first. it didn't matter that much anyway, it wasn't like you would remember any of it tomorrow morning. you rambled about something silly you'd seen earlier that day, making him laugh, and then he would add something he remembered at the moment. both of your words were flowing like a stream with no filter, voices soft and warm.

you stood close together on the balcony, leaning against each other as you looked out at the skyline, your cheeks flushed from the drinks you’d had earlier. the night air was cool, the city below sprawling out like a carpet of lights. you two were alone now, away from the noise, and he found himself drawn into the conversation that had become strangely vulnerable, more layered than he’d expected.

somewhere in the middle of your ramblings, your voice dropped to a softer, almost reflective tone. you laughed, a hint of bitterness coloring the edges, and your gaze drifted down to your hands, fidgeting with a handmade bracelet you paired with megumi during one of your first dates.

"you look like you're thinking too much about something", he uttered while taking off his black leather jacket and gently covering your shoulders, sensing that the temperature was quite lower outside.

you jumped as you fell off of the trance you were in and gave him a tsk. "oh it's nothing".

"if you say it's nothing then it's something that's concerning you. we can talk". he was observing too much and that was making you nervous.

you paused a little before clearing up your throat. was it a good idea to talk about it? was it necessary? really necessary? and then, the drunken eagerness hit you. fuck it.

"do you think that... we're heading into a good pathway?

he took a while to try and formulate a proper answer, wanting as much clarity as possible to avoid triggering a tipsy you. "if you talk about us, about our relationship... i think we are heading into a good pathway. why?"

"sometimes i'm scared this might not work out no matter what"

"what do you mean?", he answered with a concerned look.

“not trying to yapp, but i'm not sure if i've ever told you this, yet…” you began, your voice slurring just slightly as you played again with the charm on your wrist, “sometimes i can't stop thinking about how i got fucking cheated on. it wasn’t a big deal, though,” you shrugged casually as if discussing something as trivial as a forgotten text message. sensing his disquiet look, you kept talking in an attempt to erase the tension. “stuff like that just happens, y'know? at least when you're not much to stick around for.”

your words fell into the silence, each one landing heavily, cutting through the quiet in a way that made megumi realize how his chest was now aching. it was the way you’d spoken so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if it were a universal truth you'd come to accept. although drunk, the way you didn’t even flinch as you spoke, your expression still relaxed, but there was an undercurrent of sadness in your words, something so deeply ingrained that you probably weren’t even aware of it.

“honestly,” you swore you tried to stop yourself from speaking, but there was this odd feeling of needing to spit it out under the excuse of intoxication, your voice low and soft as you now ran your fingers along the metal of the railing. “i should've seen it coming with him. he was… well, he wasn’t perfect, but he was my first boyfriend.” you let out a soft laugh, the kind that didn’t quite match your eyes. “i think i always knew he didn’t really want to be with me, at least not in the way i wanted him to.”

megumi tensed, his grip tightening slightly around the rail of the balcony. he’d never really heard you talk about this, about anyone before him, and he felt a pang of something unfamiliar—a mixture of protectiveness and a strange, almost possessive ache. he kept watching you, trying to read between the lines of the sadness beneath your casual tone, the hints of self-deprecation you tried so hard to hide behind some silly narrative.

you noticed the change in his expression and felt immediately guilty for ruining the vibes of the moment. "i'm sorry for-"

"you don't have to say sorry. you can... keep talking if you... feel safe".

the relaxation slowly filled your body as you freed your thoughts. “he was always looking somewhere else, y'know? it’s funny…” you trailed off before chuckling again after the realization hit, feeling it all absurd now. “i think he only dated me because he couldn’t have the girl he actually wanted.” you shrugged, your expression oddly resigned. “and i was fine with that. i mean, who was i to think i’d be someone’s first choice? so stupidly in love and available”.

megumi felt his heart clench again. he wanted to reach out, to shake you from this idea that you weren't enough, that you somehow deserved less because of who you were. he knew you somehow struggled with self-perception, but he hadn’t realized just how deep it went. and it hurt him to think that, somewhere along the way, you’d convinced yourself that you were unworthy of loyalty, that betrayal was something you simply had to accept.

“y/n…” he began softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city below them. he wanted to say something, anything that would shake you out of the spiral, to let his girl see herself the way he did. “you’re not—” he hesitated, unsure if his words could even reach you, especially with the tipsy haze softening the edges of your pain.

however, you didn’t seem to notice the interruption, your voice growing a little distant as you continued, your gaze fixed on some point in the distance. “i always knew, deep down. there was this... odd gut feeling all the time when he’d tell me not to worry, that i was enough… but you know, people can’t help what they feel.” you let out a small sigh, shaking your head as if amused by your own naivety. “i was always the backup plan, and that’s fine. i got used to it. people settle sometimes. but it didn't feel right. and now i feel it so right with you that it scares me to even think of it happening again”.

to hear his precious girlfriend saying those things about herself, so casually and yet so cuttingly, felt like a punch to his gut. megumi could feel his frustration building, not at you, but at the way you dismissed yourself as if you were something disposable, something that could be set aside. his mind raced with memories of your laughter, your intelligence, your cockiness, the way you lit up a room with your energy. how could you not see what he saw? how could you believe you were anything less than fucking exceptional?

he leaned in slightly, his hand reaching out to gently turn your face towards him, his gaze intense, searching his loved one's eyes for something—anything—that might indicate she understood how deeply he cared for her, how much he wished she could see her own worth. “i need you to understand that you weren’t a backup plan to him, and you’re definitely not one to me,” he said, his voice firm but soft, every word laced with sincerity. “i don’t know why he couldn’t see what he had… but i do. i do see you, y/n.”

you looked at him, your gaze softening slightly, and for a moment, he thought he’d gotten through to you. but then, you shrugged with that same dismissive smile tugging at your lips as if you couldn’t quite believe him. “thanks, gumi. but… it’s fine, really. it’s not a big deal. i’m over it, and i'm just drunk. you probably shouldn't take me seriously” you said, your voice light, brushing off his words as if they were just platitudes.

he frowned, feeling a growing frustration—not at you, but at this wall you’d built around yourself, this barrier that kept you from accepting the love he was trying to offer. “you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that,” he said, his voice was firmer now, a touch of impatience slipping through. “you don’t have to dismiss yourself. you don’t have to make yourself small just because someone else didn’t appreciate you.”

you blinked, taken aback by his tone, and for a moment, your guard slipped. but then again, you chuckled, brushing off his words with a playful smile, as if trying to lighten the mood. “megumi, you’re too serious sometimes,” you teased, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, your expression warm but carrying a hint of something deeper, a sadness you still couldn’t quite shake away.

megumi looked back at you, his hand instinctively tightening around yours, and his voice came out low, steady, holding a softness that he rarely showed up until now. “i… actually thought you were funny the first time i saw you,” he murmured, his words tentative, as if hoping they might somehow shift your perspective, if only by a fraction. “and pretty, too,” he added, his eyes steady on you, willing for you to hear him. "really pretty".

you stood there, your gaze drifting up to meet his, and for a moment, you seemed to register the sincerity in his voice. but your smile wavered as if you couldn’t believe him. “you're tripping,” she laughed, waving it off, your voice light but carrying a trace of disbelief, as if his words were something foreign you couldn’t quite grasp.

“no no, i mean it,” he replied, his tone confident and his blue eyes unwavering. he took a small step closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering there, brushing against your cheek. “i thought you were amazing from the start. and i still do.. and i probably ever will. there's so much more i still haven't discovered 'bout you, and it makes me wanna study you for the rest of my life”.

for a brief second, something flickered in your eyes—a vulnerability, maybe? a glimpse of the girl beneath the layers of defense you'd built. you looked at him, really looked at him, searching his face as if trying to find the truth in his words. nonetheless, as quickly as it appeared, the vulnerability faded, and you plastered on a smile, your walls snapping back up.

“thanks, gumi,” you said before leaning in to kiss his cheek, your tone light, almost playful, trying your drunken best to deflect the seriousness of the moment. “but really, it’s fine. i’m over it, i swear” you gave a small shrug, your voice tinged with a forced nonchalance that made his heart ache even more.

he let you laugh and deflect, but his mind was racing since he could understand the baggage you were trying so hard to release. all those scars left by past betrayals and insecurities hurt him more than he could ever put into words, especially because he came too late to prevent you from experiencing it. knowing that you weren't ready to confront those feelings, he didn’t push you any further, less in this state. instead, he simply stayed by your side, letting his presence speak for him, hoping that, over time, you’d begin to believe him. it really frustrated him, the way you downplayed your own worth, the way you brushed off your concerns as if they were something you simply had to endure. he knew you were stronger than you realized and also that you carried so much more beauty and light than you could ever see in yourself.

you stayed on the balcony a while longer, and though your expression remained casual, he could see the faintest hint of something deeper beneath your face, a shadow of the hurt you tried so hard to bury. he didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to push you beyond what you were willing to share, and decided to wait for you, so as you stood there, side by side, he silently vowed to show you, in every way he could, that you were worth more than the broken pieces you’d been led to believe you were.

when you finally made your way back inside, you sobered up, and your head rested on his shoulder as you walked. megumi wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as if to shield you from the doubts you carried. and though you might not remember much of your conversation come morning, he hoped that, on some level, you’d feel the weight of his words, that you would begin to see yourself through his eyes, if only just a little.

at that moment, megumi made a mental note to himself to keep reminding you of your worth and the love he held for you through every small gesture, every silent reassurance until the day he died. because even if he struggled to be expressive, you were worth every effort, every unspoken word, and every moment spent in quiet understanding.

the atmosphere shifted after your quiet conversation on the balcony, but your laughter was quick to fill the silence, your spirits as buoyant as ever as you headed back into the warm hum of the party. inside, the music now thumped louder, people clustered in lively groups, and the smell of smoke and drinks mingled in the air. once you saw the group again, you practically bounced back into the party with them, your arm linked with megumi's as you steered him toward with a radiant smile. you were joyfully unrestrained and had totally forgotten about what had you so petty a while ago, ringing out above the music as if your earlier words had been nothing more than a passing breeze.

megumi, however, found himself seeing you in a different mood, the weight of your confessions lingering at the back of his mind. he watched you as you laughed with your friends, your movements fluid yet slightly unsteady, your smile big and genuine. but he couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest; your words haunted him, your offhanded comments that told him more than you realized. you swayed closer to him now and then, your hand brushing his, and every time you looked up at him with that carefree grin, he felt the urge to lock you in a glass box and shield you from everything that had ever made you feel so small.

you suddenly grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the dance floor with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "come on! just one dance, please!" you pleaded, pouting just enough to make him sigh but follow willingly. it would be just for once, right? and how could he ignore his pretty girlfriend's contagious enthusiasm, her laughter spilling over as she twirled him around, not caring who was watching or how out of sync their movements were? megumi went along with you, a half-smile tugging at his lips as you spun and swayed, your arms stretching out wide like you were trying to embrace the whole world.

but beneath it all, he could see the vulnerability in you—how your laughter was a bit too loud, your smiles a bit too wide. every so often, your gaze would drift, your eyes unfocused for a fleeting second, and he knew you were miles away, lost in thoughts that were far from joyful. then, with a blink, you’d snap back, finding him again in the crowd, lighting up as if he were your anchor.

as the night wore on, both of your energies began to wane, your steps becoming even more unsteady, your phrases turning softer and a little slurred. megumi noticed the faint flush on your cheeks, the way you leaned into him more heavily with each passing moment, your body resting briefly on his as you cackled at something he didn’t quite catch.

“alright, i think we’ve had enough for one night,” he murmured gently, his voice barely audible over the music, though his words were more for himself than for you. after saying your goodbyes with everyone before they took their way home, he guided you towards the exit with one arm around your waist, trying his best to ignore the knowing glances from a few of your friends as they watched him support you. he could almost hear the teasing they’d throw at him the next day, but he didn’t care; all he wanted was to get you somewhere safe and quiet.

outside, the cool night air hit you, and you let out a content sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder with a soft smile. “you’re a good boyfriend, y’know that?” you murmured, your voice sleepy and muffled as you nuzzled closer to him. you giggled, clearly a little too tipsy and tired to remember half the things you’d said tonight, including your own heart-wrenching confessions. but you were blissfully unaware, your smile soft and genuine as you looked up at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes.

megumi's heart twisted, and he gave a content sigh, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “yeah? and you’re a good girlfriend”, he replied softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. he wanted to say more, wanted to tell you that he saw everything you tried to hide, but also that you didn’t need to pretend with him. he ended up holding back, not wanting to burden you in this moment.

as you walked, you swayed slightly, humming a tune under your breath, your head lolling from side to side. you rambled on about the night, recounting funny moments and half-remembered jokes, your words slurring just enough that he had to focus to keep up. but he listened to your every word, nodding and laughing with you in all the right places, his arm steady around you as he guided you along the sidewalk.

when you reached his car, you fumbled with the door handle, giggling as you struggled to open it until he gently nudged your hand away and opened it for you. you collapsed into the passenger seat with a satisfied exhale, stretching your arms above your head as you settled in, you eyes already beginning to droop. he watched you for a moment, taking in the soft, peaceful expression on your face, and he felt that same protective instinct rises within him, fierce and unrelenting.

sliding into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at you, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. you were half-asleep now, your head resting against the window, and he couldn’t help but reach out, giving you a slight peck on the top of your head. you stirred at his touch, blinking up at him with a drowsy smile.

“y'know, gumi,” you murmured, your words barely a whisper, “i’m really happy with you… like, really, really happy.”

his heart clenched, and genuinely smiled, his voice soft as he replied, “i’m happy with you too, y/n.” he wanted to say so much more, to tell you how deeply he cared, how much your words had affected him tonight, but since you wouldn’t remember it in the morning, he stayed shut and appreciated the moment.

as he drove, the city lights blurred past the car, and he glanced over at you now and then, his system relaxing as he saw you taking a little nap on the seat next to him. the way you had such an important conversation, how you two danced right after, and how you were peacefully asleep in his car, letting him drive you home late at night—it made him think. he realized that there was so much you probably kept hidden, so many feelings and thoughts you carried beneath your exterior, and he felt an overwhelming need to protect you from all the bad things in the world.

when they finally reached your apartment, he helped you out of the car, guiding you up the steps as you leaned heavily against him, your little sounds soft and sleepy. you fumbled for your keys, dropping them once before he gently took them from your hand, unlocking the door and leading you inside. you stumbled over to the couch, flopping down with a content sigh, almost falling asleep right again.

megumi knelt beside you, brushing a gentle hand over your cheek. “get some sleep, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft. and after noticing you weren't even considering going to your room, too worn out to move, he picked you up over his shoulder to take you to your bed. he carefully cleaned your makeup from your face, took off your clothes, and put on your pajamas before tucking you under the sheets.

as he watched you drift off, your breathing slow and even, he determined to stay by your side and help you in any way he could. he had no idea of how he would do it but was pretty sure he couldn’t just stand by and watch you suffer in silence. he had to be there, every step of the way, until you realized he was as serious as you to commit, no matter what it took. because you were totally worth it and you made him feel more than anyone had ever done before. he’d show you that you were his first choice, now and always.

megumi wasn’t planning to stay, but as he knelt beside you to give you a last goodnight kiss, your eyes fluttered open, just barely, and you reached out with a sleepy murmur. “stay, please?” you wish was soft, almost pleading, and even though he wasn’t sure at first, he just couldn’t say no to you.

a faint smile tugged at his lips as he nodded, whispering, “alright, i’ll stay for my pretty baby.” you sighed with relief, closing your eyes as you felt him settling into the bed, curling up like it was the most natural thing in the world to have him beside you. after making sure you were comfortable, he lied beside you, leaning back and watching as your breathing slowed again, your face in complete relaxation. a part of him considered moving to the armchair across your bedroom to give you space, but then you shifted, your hand reaching out instinctively to find his, your fingers brushing against his arm as you pulled him to hug you, like seeking the reassurance of his presence even in sleep. you both held a mutual grip that was soft but unmistakable, and it was almost as if you telepathically shared in your dreams how comforted you were by the closeness between each other. you murmured something incoherent in your sleep, a soft smile gracing your lips as you shifted even closer. he felt a wave of tenderness wash over him, sensing you like this, so vulnerable and peaceful. the noise and the lights of the party, the weight of everything—all of it felt like a distant memory in this quiet, cozy moment.

megumi stayed awake a while longer, simply watching over you as you slept. he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing that you held such a distorted view of yourself. he still couldn't stop thinking about that. your casual words from earlier echoed in his mind. but truly, you were everything to him, and after all, genuine—he hated that someone had made you feel less than worthy.

eventually, the warmth and quiet pulled him under, and he found himself drifting off, his hand still resting near yours, your fingers just barely brushing against each other as he fell asleep cuddling you.

the morning sun filtered softly through the window, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stirred first, blinking groggily as you adjusted to the brightness, your head throbbing slightly from the previous night’s drinks. you closed your eyes for a moment, recalling bits and pieces of the party—the music, the laughter, megumi’s comforting presence… and then something more, a memory at the edge of your mind that felt both familiar and hazy. your face flushed as you remembered small fragments, wondering if you’d said anything embarrassing.

that's when you felt it—an arm resting near yours, warm and solid. you opened her eyes slowly again, your gaze falling on megumi beside you, still fast asleep. his face was relaxed, his usual guarded expression softened by sleep, and you couldn’t help but smile, watching him for a moment in the quiet. it was rare to see him like this, peaceful and ethereal, and a part of you felt grateful that he’d stayed for the night.

but then a pang of anxiety surfaced. did I say something? you wondered, bits of the night coming back in flashes. you remembered his face when you guys talked on the balcony, how he’d looked at you with an intensity you hadn’t quite understood in the moment. had you let something slip? had you told him about… that?

you bit her lip, cheeks warming with embarrassment, but before you could dwell too much, you felt him shift beside you, his eyes fluttering open. he looked at you, a bit groggy but immediately alert, his gaze softening when he saw you were already awake.

“morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“morning,” you replied, your voice a bit softer than usual, still unsure if he remembered everything.

he sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as he adjusted to being awake. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his tone gentle but perceptive as he tapped your forehead with his finger, like he was searching for something that would tell him about your state.

“im… not too bad, actually” you replied, managing a small smile. you looked away, your fingers absentmindedly picking at the fabric of the sheets, still trying to piece together the foggy memories from the night before.

your boyfriend watched you, noticing the way you seemed lost in thought, and he couldn’t help but reach out, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “baby…” he began, his voice soft but firm, “about last night…”

you tensed slightly, your gaze darting up to meet his. “oh god, did i… did i say something embarrassing, right?” you laughed nervously, brushing it off with a wave, while you couldn't look at him in the eyes from how your heart pounded as you waited for his response.

he paused, studying your face for a moment. “not embarrassing,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “but… you did say something that i don’t think you’d want me to just brush off.”

your smile faltered, and you glanced down, biting her lip. “megumi, i—” your started, but he interrupted you gently, his hand still resting on your shoulder.

“you don’t have to explain anything now,” he said softly. “it's just that… i need you to know that you don’t have to feel like that. whatever happened in the past, it doesn’t change the way i see you now and it's nothing like what we have at this moment”.

your eyes softened, your heart aching as you looked at him, realizing just how much he cared, even if you hadn’t meant for him to know everything. you wanted to laugh it off, to make light of it like you usually did, but something about his gaze told you that he wouldn’t let you deflect this time.

“thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper as you met his eyes. you felt your throat tighten, the weight of your past bubbling up as you tried to push it back, but his gaze anchored you, reminding you that you weren't alone in this. "thank you for being mine..."

he reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “thank you for being mine. i’ll be here whenever you’re ready to talk, okay? no pressure.”

you managed a small smile, squeezing his hand back. “i… i appreciate that, gumi,” you responded, wavering slightly. and for this time, you allowed yourself to believe it—believe that maybe, just maybe, you were worth the kindness the world offered. that you deserved the caring and love megumi gave you.

it was all still fragile— the slow building trust between you, the comfort of his presence, the trust you had on yourself as a partner. fragile. but so it was now the fear of being replaced, because as you sat there in silence, your hand still in his, the weight of every bad memory suddenly felt a little lighter, held together by the understanding and sweet amenity between the quiet morning and who you were now sure, was the love of your life.

a/n: okkk this will be long!! first able, i need to apologize for announcing an angstober only for me to didn't even start it 😭😭 i was really excited for that project but a month ago i suddenly became a functional member of society bc i got called for this student federation team at my uni, got into this research project of bioinformatics and even got called to expose for a congress about some drawings i did to communicate science?? with literal professionals?? as a stem girlie i'm like HONORED but as an individual i'm honestly so tired and i'm so sorry for that... however, i still wanna take care of all the 31 drafts i have on this app so i'll be posting them but i assure you this WILL take long lmao. i post this as a little gift and because i reaaaally wanted to show it off soon. hope you let me know your thoughts on the comments. thank you for all the new people here (and the ones who stayed for a whole month), and i hope you enjoy this as much as i do! xx

#jjk #jjk angst #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi angst #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

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