#but yeah i've gotten over most if not all of what was hurting me back then

[minimoll7]

I really want to draw and post art again but yet its been so incredibly hard to really to do anything? I'm at a point where I really just don't know why. I tend to sketch stuff and maybe sometimes I'll start working on the line art but then I just stop and never go back

I don't know what my problem is or what is really stopping me. I get really happy when I sketch and things are coming out really well!! But then that's kind of it? Its not like I feel super depressed about it or anything, so what's holding me back? A big ol mystery

[mcrdvcks]

Could I request a one shot of Old Man Logan? Something with fluff and angst like a huge argument between him and his other half and Laura works to get them to make up after days of not talking

things i wish you said

chapter summary: You and Logan get into a fight and Laura tries to get the two of you to see the errors in your ways.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: thank y'all for sending in requests! i've been working on the last chapter of i love you, in every time but i ran into a bit of writer's block so the requests really helped <3

anyways, i hope this was what you wanted anon!

warnings/tags: au of 'logan (2017)' aka logan doesn't die at the end, arguments, angst, laura being smarter than reader and logan, really this is just laura being a smartass, fluff

"I can’t believe you!” You set the dish towel angrily down on the counter, glaring at Logan. “You are the most stubborn man I have ever met.”

Logan leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression hard. “Yeah? Well, someone’s gotta be stubborn, considering you’re trying to fix a situation that ain’t broken.”

“It is broken, Logan!” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You just refuse to see it because that’s what you do! Shut everything out, pretend like nothing’s wrong until it all blows up in your face.”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “What’s wrong is you makin’ a mountain out of a molehill. I said I’ll handle it.”

“You handling it usually means disappearing for a week and coming back bloodied and brooding!” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “God forbid you actually let someone help you for once.”

“I don’t need your help!” he barked, his voice rising. “I’ve been doin’ just fine on my own for years.”

“And look where that’s gotten you!” The words came out sharper than you intended, but the frustration boiling in your chest wouldn’t let you stop. “You’re not on your own anymore, Logan. When are you gonna get that through your thick skull?”

Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice dropped to a dangerous low. “You don’t think I know that? I didn’t ask for any of this, but here we are. I’m doin’ the best I can, and it ain’t enough for you, is it?”

“That’s not what I said!” You took a step toward him, shaking your head in disbelief. “But you don’t even try to meet me halfway. You just... shut down and push me out the second it gets hard.”

“Maybe I’m tryin’ to protect you,” he shot back, his words laced with frustration.

“From what? From you?” Your voice cracked, the argument chipping away at the walls you’d built to keep your own emotions in check. “I’m not scared of you, Logan. What scares me is losing you because you’re too damn stubborn to let anyone in.”

Logan’s mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came. He stood there, breathing hard, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room, the screen door slamming behind him.

You stood there, staring at the door, your heart pounding. Part of you wanted to go after him, to yell more, to make him understand. But another part of you was too tired—too hurt.

The house was quiet now, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Laura walked in from the hallway. She didn’t say anything right away, just hovered in the doorway, her arms crossed in that way that made her look far older than her twelve years.

“You two are so loud,” she finally said, her tone flat but edged with something that sounded suspiciously like annoyance.

You groaned, dropping your hands and looking over at her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Laura replied, stepping further into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair and sat across from you, her sharp gaze studying your face. “You’re crying.”

You swiped at your cheek quickly, though you weren’t sure why. Laura didn’t miss much. “It’s nothing, kiddo.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” she said, her tone even. She leaned her elbows on the table, her small hands clasped together. “You and Logan fight all the time now.”

“That’s not true,” you replied automatically, though the words felt hollow as soon as you said them.

Laura just stared at you, unblinking. “It is.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes grown-ups argue. That’s just how it is.”

“Yeah, but you’re mad at him all the time. And he’s mad at himself. It’s annoying.” Her bluntness cut through you, and she tilted her head. “Are you going to leave?”

“What? No.” The question startled you, and you leaned forward. “No, Laura. I’m not going anywhere. I love Logan. I just... wish he’d stop shutting me out.”

Laura didn’t say anything for a while. She just stared at you, her gaze as sharp as ever, like she was picking apart everything you’d just said.

Finally, she shrugged. “Then tell him.”

You blinked. “I have told him.”

“No, you yelled at him.” Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact, and it made you feel about two inches tall. “That’s not the same.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face. “It’s complicated, kid.”

Laura tilted her head. “No, it’s not. You’re mad. He’s mad. You both stop talking. Then you stay mad.”

You stared at her, caught off guard by how simple she made it sound. “It’s not that easy.”

Laura didn’t respond to that, just gave you a look—one of those looks that made you realize this twelve-year-old could probably win a staring contest with the Grim Reaper. She stood up without another word and walked back toward the hallway, leaving you sitting there with a mix of frustration, guilt, and... something else you couldn’t quite name.

---

The next few days were... quiet. Too quiet. Logan didn’t come around much, and when he did, it was brief—mostly to grab a beer or say a gruff goodnight. You didn’t push him, not yet, but the silence between you was its own kind of argument.

You also knew that he wasn’t sleeping in bed with you. You could tell because you’d wake up early for work, only to find Logan sprawled out on the couch, his legs dangling off the armrest. You would’ve woken him up—told him to go to bed while you left—but you stopped yourself every time. The anger hadn’t completely faded, but it had started to feel hollow, replaced by something heavier.

This morning was no different. You paused in the living room doorway, coffee in hand, watching him. He was fast asleep, one arm thrown over his face, the other hanging off the edge of the couch. You sighed quietly to yourself.

“Just go to bed, idiot,” you muttered under your breath, knowing he wouldn’t hear it.

---

Laura stood in the doorway of the garage, watching Logan fiddle with the same part of the truck he’d been pretending to fix for the past twenty minutes. She didn’t say anything at first—just stood there, arms crossed, her quiet presence heavy enough that Logan eventually sighed.

“You gonna say somethin’ or just stand there starin’?” he muttered without looking up, his voice rough.

Laura shrugged. “You’re not fixing anything.”

Logan’s hands paused for half a second before he went back to the wrench, a little harder this time. “Truck needs work.”

“It doesn’t,” Laura said bluntly. “You’re hiding.”

Logan froze again, jaw tightening. “Ain’t hidin’.”

“You are,” she insisted. Laura took a step closer, eyeing him like he was some kind of experiment she was studying. “You and Y/N are mad. It’s annoying.”

Logan finally looked up at her, scowling. “What’s annoying is you stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong.”

Laura didn’t flinch. She just stared at him, unfazed as ever. “If you don’t talk to her, she’s going to leave.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, and his grip on the wrench tightened. “She’s not gonna leave.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Logan stared at her, expression unreadable, but he didn’t answer. He looked back at the truck instead, as if the bolts and metal could give him something to focus on. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

Laura stepped closer, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I know you. And I know her. She cries when you’re not looking.”

Logan stilled, his shoulders tensing, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to hear it—didn’t want to think about it.

Laura didn’t stop. “You think shutting her out makes her safer, but it doesn’t. It just makes her sad.”

“Laura,” Logan said sharply, his voice low.

She ignored the warning in his tone. “You don’t want her to leave, but you’re acting like you do.”

That hit something, and Logan finally set the wrench down, exhaling harshly. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.” Laura’s voice was calm, but there was something pointed beneath it. “You’re scared. You don’t want to need her.”

Logan looked at her, his scowl deeper now, though it lacked its usual bite. “Yeah? Where’d you get all that from?”

Laura shrugged. “I watch you. I listen. You’re both loud.”

Logan shook his head and ran a hand over his face, grumbling under his breath. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”

She just tilted her head. “You’re worse.”

Logan let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Great. So now I’m gettin’ life advice from a twelve-year-old.”

Laura shrugged again and turned to leave. “If you don’t talk to her, I will.”

That got his attention. “Hey���”

But she was already walking out of the garage, not bothering to look back. “You’re welcome,” she called flatly.

Logan swore under his breath, watching her disappear. He sat there for a moment, hands resting on his knees, staring at the half-fixed truck. He hated that kid sometimes—hated how she could cut right through him like that.

And worse, she was right.

---

You came back from work late, opting to eat out instead of at home to avoid any awkward interactions. By the time you walked through the door, the house was dark except for the faint glow of the kitchen light. You set your bag down quietly, not wanting to risk waking anyone up.

But as you turned toward the living room, you noticed Logan sitting on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. He wasn’t looking at you—his gaze was fixed on the floor, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely together.

You hesitated, debating whether to say anything or just go straight to bed. Before you could decide, his gravelly voice cut through the silence.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

You froze, then blinked. “What?”

He finally looked up at you, his expression unreadable. “Laura told me. Said she noticed. I didn’t.”

You frowned, your heart sinking a little. “Logan, I—”

“I should’ve noticed,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost too quiet. He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s on me.”

You crossed your arms, unsure what to say. “I didn’t stay out because of you.”

“Yeah, you did,” he replied bluntly, cutting you off again. “You’re avoiding me. I get it.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he was resigned to it—made something twist in your chest. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not avoiding you. I just needed... space.”

Logan scoffed, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Space. Right. Because I’m such a walk in the park to be around.”

“Logan—”

“I get it,” he repeated, louder this time, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t have to explain it. I know what I’m like. Hell, Laura reminds me every day.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “This isn’t about Laura. It’s not even about you being... difficult. It’s about you not letting me in.”

He stiffened at that, his jaw clenching. “I’m tryin’.”

“Are you?” Your voice softened, but the hurt was still there. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re just waiting for me to give up.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and for a second, you thought he might argue. But then he sighed, slumping back against the couch. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice rough, almost bitter. “I don’t know how to let someone in without... screwin’ it all up.”

You stared at him, the anger you’d been holding onto slipping away, replaced by something softer. “You don’t have to have all the answers, Logan. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I just need you to try.”

“I am trying,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “It just... doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

“It is,” you said firmly, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him. “But you can’t keep shutting me out every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

He looked up at you, his expression guarded but vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied your face like he was trying to decide whether to believe you.

Finally, he let out a long breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady. “But you have to let me stay.”

Logan nodded slowly, like he was finally starting to understand. “Alright,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll... figure it out.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you said, offering a small, tentative smile.

He didn’t smile back, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He leaned back against the couch, his eyes meeting yours. “You eaten?”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic. “What?”

“You look tired,” he said gruffly. “Bet you skipped dinner.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I grabbed something on the way home.”

"Good," he muttered again, leaning back against the couch with a long exhale. His hand moved to the bottle of whiskey, but instead of picking it up, his fingers drummed against the glass absently.

You hesitated, then walked over to the couch, standing just in front of him. “Logan.”

He looked up at you, his brow furrowing slightly, waiting for you to say whatever was on your mind.

Instead, you sat down beside him, close enough that your knees touched. For a second, neither of you said anything. Then Logan let out another heavy sigh, reached over, and pulled you into his lap with a quiet grunt.

“Logan—”

“Just sit,” he said, his tone softer than usual, though still carrying that gruff edge. One of his hands rested lightly on your hip, the other settled on your thigh. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in him start to ease as he let himself rest against you.

Your hands moved up instinctively, one settling on his arm, the other gently threading through his hair. He didn’t say anything at first, just breathed deeply, the weight of the past few days pressing down on both of you.

“You should come to bed tonight,” you murmured after a while, your voice quiet but steady.

Logan didn’t move, but you felt the way his body tensed under you. “I’m fine out here.”

“You’re not,” you said simply, your fingers brushing through his hair again. “You look miserable on this couch.”

He huffed a quiet laugh against your shoulder. “I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the point,” you pressed. “I want you in bed. With me. Where you belong.”

Logan lifted his head then, his eyes meeting yours. His expression was guarded, but there was something softer there too, like he was considering your words. “You sure you want me there?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you said, your hand moving to cup his jaw. “I always want you there, Logan. Even when I’m mad at you. Especially when I’m mad at you.”

That earned a faint smirk from him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think I was much for sharing a bed with someone.”

“Well, you’re not great at it,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You steal the blankets, and you snore.”

“Don’t snore,” he muttered, his lips twitching slightly.

“You absolutely snore,” you shot back, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t care. I just want you there.”

Logan studied you for a moment, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “Good.”

For a few minutes, you stayed like that, the silence between you no longer heavy but comfortable. Logan’s head rested against your chest, and you could feel the tension slowly draining out of him as your fingers moved lazily through his hair.

“Y’know,” he muttered after a while, his voice low, “Laura’s a pain in the ass sometimes.”

You chuckled softly. “She’s just looking out for you. For us.”

Logan grunted, his arm tightening around you slightly. “Kid’s too damn smart for her own good.”

“She gets that from you,” you said, smiling.

That earned another faint smirk, though he didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, his eyes closing as he rested against you. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Good,” you said softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair.

For the first time in days, the tension between you felt like it was beginning to mend.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi love!! I would love an Eddie request of him with inexperienced reader but it's not smut it's like the convo leading up to it like May be they start making out and it's getting steamy and she tells him she's a virgin and she's terrified bc what if she's bad at sex and then it's not good for him? What if he sees her naked and thinks she's not pretty?? And it's just Eddie comforting her and reassuring her

Oh, I would most definitely need Eddie to reassure me of these things, too. I hope you like what I've come up with 💕

Words: 1.3k

The old springs in Eddie’s mattress dig into your back, an occasional squeak emanating from them whenever your boyfriend shifts his weight on top of you. His tongue dances with yours, breath colliding and teeth grazing. Eddie encompasses all your senses, surrounding you wholly and leaving no room to think about anything else but him–if your brain can even manage to think at all with strong, calloused hands running over your body. 

His warm fingers trail up the outside of your leg, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The moment Eddie’s hand slips up your shorts on the front of your thigh though, your body goes from pure ecstasy to adrenaline-pumping nerves in an instant.

An involuntary jump of your body against his alerts Eddie that something’s wrong and he immediately pulls away to gaze down at you in concern.

“Are you okay?”

Though it’s clearly not the truth, you nod your head. Slowly, you scoot yourself out from beneath his body and sit up against the cheap mahogany headboard that’s caused a multitude of scratches against the dully painted trailer wall. 

“C-Can we talk for a second though?”

There’s worry in Eddie’s eyes. He’s terrified that he’s done something wrong or has hurt you in some way. Taking care to give you some space, your boyfriend situates himself to sit next to you on his bed, back also resting against the chipped and scuffed headboard.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “What’s going on?”

Tentatively, Eddie offers you his hand, resting it between the two of you. He’s leaving the decision up to you if you want to touch him right now or not. There’s no hesitation though, you eagerly lace your fingers with his. 

You give him a nervous smile, a million thoughts running through your head at once. It’ll be a miracle if you can speak coherently with the rate at which your mind is moving. Deciding to just bite the bullet and get it all out there, you take a deep breath.

“Um, I’m—I’m a virgin, Eddie.”

Whatever reaction you were planning on Eddie to have, he doesn’t give it to you. He seems completely unfazed by your admission. All you get is a nod of his head and a gentle squeeze of your hand. 

“Okay,” he says casually, as if your entire body isn’t running on nervous energy at the moment. “We can go as slow as you want, yeah?”

You know your body should feel relief, but the worry in your head tells you that you’ve only gotten through part of what you need to tell him. Might as well push through to the end.

“I’m…scared,” you admit. Shame floods your body, chilling your veins.

“Of me?” Eddie’s eyes widen and the alarm in them is clear.

“No!” You quickly assure him. “No, no, never of you.”

He heaves a sigh of relief, and you cup his hand in both of yours. Out of all the things that make you anxious about having sex with Eddie, Eddie is not one of them. But that means you have to tell him that you’re the problem. If your anxiety has one mortal nemesis in the world it is vulnerability. 

“I’m scared that I’ll be bad at it,” you admit. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What if you don’t like it? What if I mess up?” What if you don’t like how I look beneath my clothes?

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. The crease in his forehead shows his displeasure with the pressure you’re putting on yourself. “First of all, I don’t think you can really mess up sex, sweetheart. As long as you’re here and your clothes are off, I’d say we’re good to go.” He chuckles, but when you don’t join in, he sighs. “Are you honestly worried that I won’t like it?”

Unable to look him in the eye, you nod. His forehead furrows further as Eddie frowns. Usually, you’d rub your thumb over those wrinkles to smooth them out and calm him down. But usually, you’re not the cause of them. 

Gentle fingers grip your chin and tilt your face so you can look at him.

“Princess, it’s you. I love doing everything with you, you really think I won’t like having sex with you?”

When he puts it like that, you feel silly. Heat blooms in your face as embarrassment is scooped on top of the nerves. There are legitimate concerns, though. You’re sure of it. There has to be.

“W-What if you don’t like what my body looks like?” You ask it so quietly in the hope that he misses it.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t by the way his eyes nearly pop out of his head. He reminds you of one of those stress dolls that you squeeze and the small plastic eyes bulge out.

“Not like your body?” Eddie sounds almost incredulous. He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing into yours as he thinks of a reply. It feels like the understatement of the century to say he was unprepared for you to be worried about this; about something that he whole-heartedly knew to be untrue. A smile quirks Eddie’s mouth as his mind goes back to a day before you’d started dating. He licks over his lips before continuing. “Sweetheart, remember the pool party Jeff threw for his birthday last summer? You wore that low-cut, blue one-piece that showed off most of your back?”

Do you remember? You had agonized over what you should wear to that party and what Eddie would think when he saw you. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, voice quivering. 

“Babe,” he says with a shake of his head. “I still get off thinking about that. About how you looked. There was a reason I had to stay in the pool past the point of me freezing half to death in the water.”

Shock colors your face, and despite the gravity of the conversation, it makes Eddie smile wider.

“You…really?”

“Yes,” Eddie says with a breathless chuckle. “God, you’re so fucking hot. You’re gorgeous. It bothers me that you don’t see that.”

If there’s one thing you can say about your boyfriend, it’s that he’s very candid about his view on things–just ask anyone who’s had the pleasure of hearing him make a grand speech from atop a lunch table. Which is most of the high school-aged population in Hawkins.

Half of your brain is trying to convince you that now is the time he chooses to lie, that he’s just saying this to make you feel better or to shut you up. Meanwhile, the other half is telling the anxiety to put a sock in it and listen to Eddie.

“What’re you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly. A reminder of how well he knows you.

“Too much,” you say with a soft laugh. 

Eddie lets out a long breath and gently pulls you into his lap. He absentmindedly rests his hands on your thighs and his thumbs rub calming circles on your skin.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asks. Needing to show you physically how much he wants to help you, he snakes his arms around your body to hold you snugly against him. Your heart all but melts as he looks up at you with those large, puppy dog eyes.

With a small smile, you lean down and rest your forehead against your boyfriend’s. Sometimes he’s too cute for his own good. 

“You already have,” you say softly.

“What? How?” Eddie’s frowning again, but this time it's in confusion.

“Just by being you,” you tell him with a shrug.

“Well, I am pretty great,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. Your heart feels lighter once the stress lines fade from his beautiful face. 

You chuckle at his ego and sit back up straight.

“There is one more thing you could do for me, though.”

“What’s that, beautiful?”

There’s a hungry gleam in your eyes as you let your gaze trail up and down his lithe body. 

“Take off your shirt.”

[skz-bee123]

Telling Skz your ex texted you

Stray Kids reaction

A/N: So here's another reaction after a very long time. I hope it tuns out alright, I haven't gone through and edited it so if there's any mistakes, no there isn't. Jisung's one is again quite short, I don't know why this keeps happening to me but I find him very hard to write, hopefully a one-shot of him will make up for that (I've got a few ideas, I just need to write it out first). For Seungmin's part, the ending is a bit iffy but other then that, enjoy!

Word count: 5.2K

Bang Chan

"Hey babe?" You called out to your boyfriend who was in the kitchen getting himself a drink.

"Yeah?"

"My ex texted me, what should I text back?"

It goes silent for a couple moments before you call out to him again, "Channie?"

Loud footsteps make their way into the lounge and you see Chan, with a look of annoyance on his face as he makes his way over to you.

"What the fuck does he want?" Chan says as he stands in front of you.

"Just wanted to know if we could meet up." You respond.

Chan goes quiet and you wait for him to speak, watching him as you see his brain ticking over.

"He...wants to meet up?" Chan finally speaks.

You nod your head in confirmation.

"Hasn't that dickhead already put your through enough already? Why is he wanting to talk to you again?" Chan sits down next to you and grabs your hand. "I'm not going to be one of those boyfriends that tells you you can't go, because ultimately it's your choice. But...sweetheart...he put you through hell, he doesn't deserve to see you ever again."

Chan sighs before speaking again, "like I said, it's your choice. Either way I support you, I just personally think that you should ignore him, block him, just get rid of him."

You stay silent for a while before your phone dings again. You look down at it before pulling up the contact of your ex. You block him.

"I did it." You finally speak up.

"What did you do?" Chan asks, grabbing your hand.

You give Chan's hand a squeeze, "I blocked him, I don't know why I hadn't in the first place."

"It's alright baby, I get why you couldn't before."

"Yeah...but I've got you now so, I don't need him anymore."

"That's right, you've got me. And I'm not going anywhere."

Lee Minho

You had gotten a text from your ex.

You chewed on your bottom lip, making it raw and hurt as you agonised over what to do.

You knew you should just delete the messages that kept coming in but just couldn't work up the courage to do it.

You and your ex had not ended on good terms, he was borderline abusive and it took you awhile to work up the strength to leave him. When you finally did, you weren't the same person anymore.

You often got scared by loud shouting and raised hands always made you cower. Minho, you boyfriend of 7 months, knew all about this. He knew about the type of person your ex was and helped you break out of your shell again. He helped you become the person you once were before your ex took that away from you.

Despite all of this, Minho has never been a super protective boyfriend. He never really made a move to go out of his way to protect you, he's never actually really had the need to. Until now.

You were starting to feel anxiety making its way through your body, it clung to you in the most uncomfortable ways possible, squeezing the little bit of air out of your body.

You wanted to tell Minho, why? You weren't even sure yourself. To vent? For advice? To get him to deal with your ex? You don't know. All you know is that your shaking hands and fast-racing heart needed to be with him.

You make your way into your room where Minho was laying on your bed, watching his phone.

Minho looks up at your over the top of his phone before he goes back to watching. A few moments go by and you don't move from your spot in the doorway and Minho pauses his phone and places it down beside him, sitting up and looking over at you.

"Y/n-" Minho goes to say but is cut off from your phone ringing.

You look down and see your ex trying to call you. A sniffle escapes from you as tears well up in your eyes.

"I-" You try to get the words out but you're overcome with tears.

Minho stands up from the bed and makes his way over to you, he grabs your hands and pulls you over to the bed, sitting you both down. Minho gently wipes away your tears and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. "What happened?" He asks.

"My ex texted me." You whisper out, looking down at your hands.

A moment of silence passes before Minho speaks, "What did he say."

"That he wants to talk. He wants to meet up with me and apologise for how things were. he wants to see if we can work things out and get back together."

It goes quite between you two and you look up. Minho's face is blank as h stares off to the side, whatever he's thinking or feeling right now, you can't tell.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you with this." You mumble out.

Minho's face whips around to face you and he opens his mouth. Before he gets the chance to say something, he is once again cut off by your phone ringing.

You feel even more tears well up in your eyes as you see it's your ex trying to call you again. Before you even get the chance to decline the call, your phone is swiped out of your hands.

You watch as Minho answers the call and places it up towards his ear.

"This isn't Y/n." Minho says. There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "Her fucking boyfriend dickhead."

You watch as a look of pure anger forms on Minho's face, "now you listen here you fucking piece of shit. You contact my girl one more time and I promise you that I'll find you and make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?"

Minho seems to be satisfied with himself as he ends the call, blocking the number of your ex. He throws your phone over to the side of the bed and runs a hand through his hair before looking at you.

"You're not a bother Y/n."

Hearing this confuses you, "huh?"

"Before that son of a bitch called, you said you didn't want to bother me with this. Y/n, you're not a bother to me."

"I just...I just didn't know what to do. You just never really seem to care about this stuff so I just assumed..." you trail off.

"I don't care?" Minho looks at you with a hurt look on his face, "you really think I don't care about you?"

"NO!" You quickly scramble to explain yourself. "I know you care about me but you just never really seem to care about you know...other guys...and like what sets me off and that. I'm sorry, I don's really know what I'm saying."

"Baby..." Minho starts, bringing his hand up to your face. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way because it's far from true."

"Huh?"

"Before you met the boys, I had a long talk with them. Of course I didn't tell them everything but a few basics. You know how they can get with new people they meet, they're loud and touchy. I didn't want them to overwhelm you so I told them to just watch themselves. Even now, sometimes I know that they can get a bit much so I step in. I step in and make up reasons to excuse us because I know you need to have some space but you're too scared to say anything."

"I'm always watching you baby. Always." Minho continues. "It kills me to know what you went through and i know that although you're doing so much better, somethings things set you back. And that's okay. But I know that these setbacks really affect you, so I watch you. I watch so that if you need me to step in, I will. I always will, baby."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't know." You say.

"It's alright baby. You mean to much to me and it hurts me to know you're upset."

You push Minho down onto his back and lay on top of him, putting your head underneath his head, snuggling into his chest. You feel his arms come up to wrap around you protectively as Minho places a kiss on the top of your head.

"I love you Min." You whisper out as your eyes fall close, exhausted from today's events.

"I love you too baby, so much more than you'll ever know."

Seo Changbin

It first happened when you were getting ready to go out for breakfast with your boyfriend, Changbin. You had just finished putting your coat on and was waiting for Changbin to come out of the bathroom so that you both could leave when you got the text.

At first you didn't quite know who it was from, simply thinking it was from a wrong number, so you just brushed it off, not giving it a second thought.

The second time it happened, you and Changbin were walking back from breakfast. It was this time that it clicked to you who exactly was texting you. Blocking the number, you thought that that would be it. Of course though, you were wrong.

All throughout the day you had been receiving text messages from you ex, some pleading for you to take him back, others threatening you for leaving. It left you with an uncomfortable feeling inside of you and you were not quite yourself.

You thought you had been quite good at keeping it to yourself, but your boyfriend, who had noticed right away that something was up, thought that you would come to him when or if you needed too.

But after going to entire day with you looking over your shoulder, Changbin was currently very worried. Worried enough that he decided that if you weren't going to say anything to him, he was going to have to make the first move.

You both were currently sitting down on a park bench, just watching the scenery, it was just reaching sunset.

"Baby?" Changbin calls out to you.

"Yeah?" You turn towards Changbin with a smile on your face.

"Something's been bothering you all day and I've been waiting for you to come to me about it but you haven't. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortable."

"Nothing's wrong."

"You've been constantly checking your phone and looking over your shoulder, I'm worried baby."

You start to chew your bottom lip and Changbin notices this, he reaches a hand up and gently pulls your lip out from your teeth with his thumb. "None of that love, you'll just hurt yourself. Tell me what's wrong?"

You open your mouth to say something but suddenly your eyes widen as you look over Changbin's shoulder and you're squeezing his hand. Changbin looks over his shoulder and watches a man walk towards you both.

Not quite recognising him but at the same time feeling that this man is somehow familiar to him, Changbin still protectively moves in front of you and watches as the man stops in front of the both of your. He completely disregards Changbin and speak to you.

"Babe, I've been texting you all day. How come you haven't been texting me back huh?" The man speaks.

Changbin turns towards you and all he sees is fear written all over your face and that's enough for him to feel an immense amount of anger well up inside of him.

The man steps forward and reaches out to grab your hand but before he gets the chance Changbin grabs his wrist.

"I don't know who you think you are. But she is not your 'babe'. Changbin speaks with venom in his words and pushes the man's hand away.

The man turns towards Changbin with annoyance, lacing his voice as he speaks. "And who are you?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm Y/n's boyfriend. And you are?"

"Whatever, Y/n babe. Comeback to me, yeah? We can talk about it." The man, who Changbin now recognises as your ex, takes a step towards you and at this Changbin stands up, shoving the man away.

"You take one step closer to her and I swear to God you're going to regret it. Leave and don't contact her again, do you understand?" Despite being shorter than your ex, Changbin was bigger.

"I said. Do. You. Understand?" Changbin says putting emphasis on each individual word.

Your ex nods his head before turning away and walking off. It isn't until your ex is completely out of sight that Changbin sits back down and turns towards you. Noticing the silent tears rolling down your face, Changbin pulls you into a hug.

"We don't need to talk about it now. But I think we need to have a talk later, yeah?" Changbin mumbles into your hair.

You pull away from Changbin and start to apologise. "I'm-" but before you could even finish your sentence you're cut off by Changbin.

No, none of that. Let's just go back home, make some hot chocolate and cuddle while we watch movies, okay?"

You nod your head at him and he stands up, gently pulling you up with him. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Hwang Hyunjin

"Jinnie?"

You wait for an answer only to receive none. You sigh and make your way over to the bed where your boyfriend was wrapped up in the blankets.

"Jin?"

You see Hyunjin's eyes look at you before he turns around so his back is facing you. You sit down on the bed next to him and tug at the blankets. You feel a smile form on your face as you feel Hyunjin tug the blankets back from you.

"Baby."

"Oh am I still your baby huh? I thought you had replaced me." As Hyunjin says this he turns to look at you. Noticing the big smilie on your face he just pouts. "And now you're laughing at me."

You flop onto him, wrapping your arms and legs around Hyunjin. "I'm not laughing."

"On the inside you definitely are."

"Okay maybe that's true but it's only because you're so cute."

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.

"Baby, you know that I love you right

and that me texting my ex, who I am completely over by the way, would never change that? Beside you, my love, are a lot more handsome.” 

Hyunjin sighs and a smile finally makes its way onto his face. “I know. But it definitely doesn’t pain me to hear it again from you.” 

You roll your eyes at him painfully. “Well if that’s what it takes to stop you from your dramatics, that I’ll tell you over and over again.” 

“Dramatics?” Hyunjin looks at you offended. “I am NOT dramatic.” 

“Jinnie, you are the definition of dramatic.” 

“You know what? For that, I’m not speaking to you again.” Hyunjin gently pushes you off him and rolls over so he’s facing away from you as your laughter sounds around the room.

Han Jisung

“You’ve been staring at your phone for a while, is everything alright?” 

You turn to look up at Jisung who had asked you that question, you smile at him softly before replying, “Yeah, Minjun texted me.” 

“Minjun, your ex?”

You nod your head before looking back down at your phone, replying to a text Minjun sent you. 

Some time passes and you’ve noticed that Jisung has been really quiet, you look up at him to see him staring off, a spaced out look on his face. 

“Ji?” You gently call out for Jisung. 

Jisung snaps out of the daze he was in and looks at you, “Yeah?” 

You move closer to where Jisung is sitting and grab his hand, rubbing your thumb over his. “You were staring into nothing, just wanting to make sure you were okay.” 

“You…your ex.” Jisung mumbles.

“What about him?” 

“How come you’re talking to him?” 

“Oh, you know how he ended up dating one of my friends after we broke up?” 

Jisung nods his head. 

“Well he wants to propose to her, just asking me for some advice on how to go about it.” 

“Oh.” You see Jisung visibly relax and you place your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. 

“You don’t have to worry Ji, I would never leave you.” 

“I know, I guess I just got into my head a bit is all.” 

With the hand that’s holding Jisung’s, you bring it up to your lips, and place a kiss on his hand. “I know my love, that’s why I’m always here to bring you out of it when you get too far.”

You feel a kiss being placed on the top of your head as Jisung mumbles, ‘I love you’ into your hair. 

Lee Felix

You and your ex ended your relationship on good terms. At the time you both just realised that you weren’t right for each other and agreed that maybe being a couple just wasn’t good for you both.

Your ex ended up getting a promotion at work and had to go overseas for some time. You were extremely happy for him but ended up losing contact.

That’s why when your ex texted you out of the blue, you were surprised yes, but also happy. 

“What’s got you all happy, my love?” 

You looked over at Felix who walked into the living room where you were sitting on the couch. 

“Do you remember Minjun?”

This causes Felix to stop in his tracks. “Like..your ex Minjun?” 

You nod your head, “Mhm.”

“Yeah I do. What about him?” 

“He’s back in Seoul and asked if we could meet up.” 

“Oh.” 

You look up from your phone then and over to Felix.

“Lix.” You call out softly. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Felix smiles at you, although you could tell it was forced. “Are you gonna…meet up with him?” 

“Probably, it would be nice to see how he’s doing.”

“Oh..that’s-that’s good then.” 

A bit confused, you slowly nod your head. “Uh yeah, it is. Are you sure everything is alright?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine, really.” 

You stare at Felix for a moment before continuing on. “Well, Minjun is officially back to live in Seoul now. He’s worked his way up and is now extending his branch more.” 

“You certainly know a lot about Minjun.” 

“We’ve just been texting, trying to find time to catch up.” 

Felix goes really quiet then. You could tell something was bothering him but he just wouldn’t admit it. Getting a bit worried you sit closer to Felix and grab his hands. 

“Lix..what’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing, because it obviously is something.”

Felix doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “You and Minjun.” 

“What about us?” You asked, slightly confused.

“You both were very close.”

“We were.”

“And he’s a very handsome guy who is back and wants to meet up with you.” 

It suddenly clicks in your head what was up with Felix. Reaching over, you gently grab Felix’s face in your hands and turn his face to look at yours. “Lixie.” 

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much.” 

Felix eyes widen as you say those words, neither of you had spoken them outloud before, so this moment meant a lot. “You love me?” 

“I do.” You nod your head. “Very much, and some silly old ex isn’t going to change that okay?” 

“Even if he’s really handsome.” 

“In my eyes, no one is more handsome than you. And I will fight anyone who says otherwise.” 

Felix lets out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” 

You smile at Felix before leaning in and placing your head on his chest, closing your eyes. You feel Felix run his fingers through your hair as you feel him relax underneath you. 

“Don’t overthink it okay? I love you a lot and that won’t ever change.” You say, your words muffled from your face being stuffed in Felix’s chest. 

“I know my love and I love you a lot too.” Felix says before closing his eyes and falling asleep with you held tightly to his chest. 

Kim Seungmin

You and Seugmin were just chilling on your couch. He for once had a few days off and chose to spend it with you. It was silent between both you had, had been for the past couple of hours until you broke the silence.

You had been debating with yourself whether or not you should speak to Seungmin about this, but seeing as he was your boyfriend, you decided that you should. It would honestly make you feel better if you did. 

“Hey Minnie?” You finally speak up.

Seungmin just hums not looking up from his phone but letting you know that you had his attention. 

“My um…my ex texted me.” 

“Nice try Y/n.” 

You look at Seungmin confused. “Huh?” 

Seungmin, still not looking at you, answers “I’ve seen this over tik tok. I know you’ve been getting me good with your pranks but this time it’s not gonna work babe.” 

You go quiet for a bit, silently cursing yourself for all the pranks you’ve pulled on your boyfriend. But this time, it wasn’t a prank, your ex had actually texted you and it had left you feeling uncomfortable. 

Not quite knowing what to say you just turn into yourself, staring off into space. 

“Y/n?” 

You look over to Seungmin to see him watching you. “Hmm?” 

“Something’s wrong.” Seungmin doesn’t ask, he states.

You don’t say anything and this causes Seungmin to move closer towards you, grabbing your hand. 

“You weren’t pranking me were you?” Seungmin asks. “Your ex actually did text you.” 

You just nod your head and show him the text messages from your phone. You watch as a wave of anger washes over his face before turning towards you, locking your phone and throwing it gently towards the side. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurt. 

“What are you sorry for?” 

“For always pranking you, it’s not..I mean I just…I don’t know. I guess I thought they were funny but…” You say turning your face away from Seungmin but Seungmin’s fingers gently turn your face to look back at him. 

“They are funny. I might not show it, but the joy it gives you when you successfully prank me, makes me happy. And besides, all your pranks are completely harmless.”

“I guess so.” 

You watch as Seungmin sighs before he leans forward and places a small kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. “Why don’t you let me deal with this douchebag of an ex and then we can talk about all the pranks I know you have planned for the members, I’m more than willing to be an accomplice.”

“Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah baby, the two of us together? The boys are not gonna know what’s hit them, and let’s just say, it’s gonna be amazing.” 

Yang Jeongin

Your ex texting you had been completely out of the blue. Your relationship had ended because of the fact that he was moving, needing to move countries because of work and you couldn’t because your own responsibilities kept you where you were. 

So your relationship ended on mutual terms. Over time, the two of you did end up losing contact with each other, simply because of time differences and the fact that you had found someone new. 

You had been at the boys practice, having finished work for the day, you decided to drop by and watch them. And although you and Jeongin weren’t heavy on the pda, it was obvious that Jeongin needed you there. Not saying it out loud but sending you a smile and a squeeze to your hand was all it took for you to stay longer than orginially planned. 

It was while the boys were dancing that you recieved the text from your ex. 

The conversation with your ex went as so:

Ex: Hey Y/n, haven't spoken for a long while now. I’m currently back in Seoul and was wondering if you wanted to meet up?”

You: Oh Minjun! How have you been? It’s been what, 3 years since you’ve last been back to Seoul?” 

Ex: Yea, it’s been awhile. But the company has been quite successful and they’ve made a branch here in Seoul, I was made to move with it, and oversee it all.

You: Wow, that’s amazing, I’m proud of you.

Ex: Thanks! So about that catch up? What do you say?

You: Yeah of course! Just let me know what you're free and we can sort something out.

You and your ex organise a time and date to meet, you're so engrossed in the conversation with your ex that you don’t even realise that the boys are on a break and that they’re currently trying to get your attention.

“Y/n!”

Your name being yelled causes you to look up and you notice all the boys, obviously taking a break have sat all around you and are looking at you. 

“Yeah?” You smile at them all before looking over at Jeongin who was calling your name.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes.” Jeongin says. 

“Oh sorry Innie, Minjun texted me and I’ve just been making plans with him.” You respond, grabbing Jeongin’s hand and bringing it onto your lap, showing him the messages between you and your ex. 

“How’s it going so far?” You turn to the boys as Jeongin reads through the messages. 

“It’s going, that’s all I can really say at the moment.” Chan speaks for the rest of the boys who all nod their heads. 

“Well I know you all will get there, I mean, you always do.” 

Jeongin hands you your phone back, not saying anything as you continue to talk with all the boys.

“Ok, I know we all noticed it but I’m gonna be the one to say it.” Jisung says, interrupting the conversation you were having with Felix. 

You turn to Jisung with a raised eyebrow, “noticed what?” 

“Jeongin.” Jisung points towards him. 

“What about him?” You asked confused.

“I’m not the only one right?” Jisung ignores your question and asks his own. 

The other members all nod their heads. You turn to look at Jeongin but don’t notice anything wrong with him. 

“What’s wrong with Jeongin?” You ask again. 

“Ever since you mentioned at Minjeon? Minjin? guy, and then letting Jeongin read the messages the obviously happened between you both, Jeongin’s had his jaw clenched and a far off look on his face.” Seungmin finally answers you. 

“Oh Minjun? He’s my ex, he just texted cause he wants to meet up.” You smile, completely oblivious. 

“Your ex? You ended on good terms then?” Chan asks. 

You nod your head. “Yeah, he had to move countries because of work but I couldn’t leave home because of school and work. So we both decided to break up. He’s currently back in Seoul, for the first time in 3 years, just texted me and asked if we could catch up.” 

“What else did you guys text about?” 

“Oh he just mentioned about going to the cafe where we had our first date, it ended up becoming one we went to all the time.” You smile at the memories. 

“He also called you pretty and that he couldn’t wait to see you in person. Said he missed you a lot.” Jeongin speaks for the first time. 

You turn towards him with a confused look. “He didn’t call me pretty but he did say that he missed me and wanted to catch up.” 

You look at all the other boys and notice them glancing at each other. “I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?” You ask nervously.

“No love, it’s just that, he was your first boyfriend right?” Chan smiles at you. 

You nod your head, “yeah, he was my first and then i’ve been with Jeongin ever since.” 

“Alright well, from what I’m getting here, your ex doesn’t have a new partner?” 

“Not that I know of. But we haven't spoken in a while, so maybe.” 

“Okay, so let’s say he doesn’t, and from the look on Jeongin’s face after he read the messages. Your ex was trying to flirt with you.” 

“What?!” You exclaim in shock. You quickly grab your phone and read through the messages, realising that it did indeed look like your ex was flirting with you. 

“Jeongin I…I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I wasn’t flirting with him, I promise.” You quickly rush to explain. 

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just clenches his jaw. With a nudge from Chan, Jeongin speaks. 

“No baby, it’s alright, I know you weren’t flirting with him. I was just jealous I guess.” Jeongin reaches over and brushes some hair away from your face, letting his hand rest on your face. 

You reach a hand up and grab Jeongin’s one that was resting on your face. You smile at him before speaking. “I can cancel my hang out with him if you want?”

“No baby, you don’t have to do that on my terms. I know you were looking forward to catching up with him.”

“Yeah, but you’re obviously uncomfortable about that and I would rather just not go.” 

“Why don’t you just text him and make it clear that you’ve got a boyfriend? You can still go and hang out with him, just as long as he knows you're taken.”

“Taken but the most amazing guy ever.” You grin, a toothy grin at Jeongin.

Jeongin laughs under his breath a little before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you," he mumbles into your head.

“I love you too.” 

Plus a little extra of the boys looking at your both with heart eyes. 

“Omg they’re so cute.” 

“I know right, like can you believe we raised him to be like this.” 

“Yeah and Y/n, what a cutie.”

“Ahh I just wanna squeeze their cheeks.” 

A slapping sound can be heard as Minho looks down at Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Changbin who were fangirling over the two of you. 

“They're obviously having a moment, leave them alone.” Chan says. 

“Exactly, Jeongin’s very private when it comes to his relationship with Y/n, let’s just leave them alone.” Seungmin says. 

“Awww, but they’re just so cute.” Felix whines. 

“Yeah! Even you all must admit that this is just so heartwarming to watch.” Jisung says. 

“Maybe it is, but let’s leave them to it alright boys.” Chan says as he rounds the pouting boys up and walks them out the door. 

As all the boys leave, Chan and Minho linger in the door, a soft smile on both their faces. 

“They are really cute though.” Chan says to Minho. “Makes me want to wrap them up and protect them both from the world.” 

“I know how you feel, come on your old man, let’s get these kids some food. Then we’ll bring some back for the two lovebirds.” Minho says with a small smile on his face as both he and Chan leave both you and Jeongin in the dance practice room to spend some time together. 

[jensengirl83]

Pining In The Pines

Dean x reader

Word count-3843

Warnings- Angst, some fluff

Summary- Y/N and the boys have to go on a hunt in her old hometown. She's not happy to go home, and especially not when Dean makes a comment that brings up bad memories. How will she take it? And will Dean be able to make it right?

A/N- This fills my Secret Passageway square for @jacklesversebingo

First, I suck at summaries 😂 Second, this fic is a little self-indulgent. I've written it about where I'm actually from and the stigma about the people in this area. I really hope you like it!

“So, get this,” Sam started the conversation as he looked at his laptop. 

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled in her chest. It never failed. When he found a hunt, the first words out of his mouth were, ‘So, get this.’ That’s how she and Dean knew to stop and pay attention. He had something they needed to hear. So, she tried to contain her laughter and give Sam the attention he wanted. 

“Y/N…Do you have to laugh every single time?” Sam groaned but didn’t wait for a response, continuing with what he wanted to say, “There’s supposedly been a Wendigo spotted in Morehead, Kentucky. Homeowners caught it on their security camera for their driveway.”

“Morehead…Isn’t that close to where you grew up, sweetheart?” Dean wondered, looking over at the huntress beside him. 

“It’s a few counties over, but yeah, it’s close enough. Did you say there was footage?” she questioned, leaning forward to look at Sam’s laptop as he spun it around for her and Dean to see. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Dean put his hand on her lower back as he leaned forward to watch the video. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had fallen in love with the eldest Winchester. But how was she supposed to be around him, living in the bunker with him, and not fall head over heels? 

It was true that he had a temper, could be a real grump, and be downright mean sometimes. But, over the years, she’d learned that his temper flared most when someone he cared about was in danger. He would be grumpy when the weight of the world had gotten almost too heavy to bear, and he tried to push it down and keep it bottled up. He was mean when he thought he needed to push someone he cared about away because he was the one putting them in danger. To her, that was just the sign of a man who had been hurt, a man who loved deeply, one who cared so much that the thought of losing someone he loved was unbearable. So, how was she not going to fall for him at some point? 

But that’s as far as it went. She would never admit her feelings. She couldn’t. The likely rejection would be her end, and she would have to leave the bunker. She’d rather pine for him in tortuous silence than not have him in her life at all. So, as always, she shoved her feelings back down, focusing on the screen in front of her, and prepared for the hunt she knew was coming. 

“Earth to Y/N,” Dean nudged her, clearly seeing she was in her own little world. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m watching,” she rolled her eyes, trying to hide that she was fantasizing about the green-eyed Adonis. 

“Where was that pretty little head of yours?” he teased, his words making her heart ache. If only he really thought that way. 

“Just thinking of what I’ll need to pack. ‘Cause we’re clearly going to Kentucky, am I right?” she lied, hoping they would buy it. 

“Yeah, we have to check this out. I’ve never heard of a Wendigo this far east before,” Sam answered, getting Dean’s attention away from her. Thank Chuck. 

“There’s a lot of things in the Appalachian mountains that no one knows about. Trust me, you don’t want to be caught in those woods alone after dark,” she shivered at the thought. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?” Dean tried to tease, but she gave him a stern look that made him think twice. 

“You should know that I’m not scared of the dark. I follow you into some of the darkest, creepiest places on earth. But, I grew up there, Dean. It’s not even just the monsters you have to worry about. I mean, there are bears, mountain lions, wolves…” she trailed off, not wanting to mention some of the crazy people that live in those mountains. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean huffed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “I get it.” 

“You better. You have to keep your head on a swivel while we’re in the woods. I’d hate to have to save your sorry ass from the real-life Yogi Bear,” she winked, “Because your ass will be the picnic basket.” 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed at her sarcasm as Sam laughed. Even though she was crazy in love with him, she could give him shit right back. And to be honest, she thoroughly enjoyed frustrating him. As she saw it, it was payback for him making her love him in the first place. She continued to chuckle as she went to her room to pack. Y/N didn’t like the thought of going home. Too many memories she’d like to forget. But duty calls, so she was packing her bags for the long drive to southeast Kentucky. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I highly doubt there’s a Wendigo here. They don’t stay in the wide-open woods,” Dean complained while trekking through the mountains. 

“Dean, do you not know anything about the topography of Kentucky?” Y/N asked, shaking her head in annoyance. He’d been in a mood all day. 

“Yes, sweetheart. I spend all my free time studying the layout of a state I rarely ever visit,” his sarcasm made her want to smack him in the head. 

“Well, dear,” she said just as sarcastically, “Kentucky is known for its underground cave systems. You know, Mammoth Cave. One of the biggest cave systems in the world…”  

“Of course! Because spelunking is high on my to-do list!” 

“Oh! Look at him, Sam. He’s using big boy words like spelunking. I’m so proud of you, Dean!” she half shouted at him. Trying to keep her voice down so as not to attract unwanted attention to whatever was out there. 

“Guys! Knock it off. We’re here to kill a Wendigo. Not for you two to kill each other!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“She started it,” Dean whined, acting like a child. 

“Fuck off, Dean,” she growled as she walked ahead of them. Leading them to the caves she knew were close. 

Y/N ignored the bickering between the brothers behind her as she made her way through the trees. She loved Dean, but today, she thought about leaving him in one of the caves they found. He’d been an ass since they woke up at the motel, and she couldn’t figure out what had his boxers in a bunch. They’d had to share a bed, but she didn’t think he’d be that pissed about that, but she wouldn’t put anything past him at that point. But, whatever it was, it tempted her to make him Wendigo lunch. 

“Slow down, Y/N. We’re not born and raised hillbillies like you are. It’s taking us a little longer to navigate this hellscape,” Dean yelled, grumbling under his breath about her getting too far ahead. 

Y/N froze. That was the last straw. Yes, she’d been born and raised in the area, but that word…Hillbilly. She’d been trying to get rid of that stigma since she left the mountains, and now hearing Dean, the man she loved, call her that derogatory term was too much to take. 

“Let me tell you something, asshole! Yeah, I grew up here, but I’m not a fucking hillbilly! I’ll have you know not everyone who lives in Appalachia are backwoods, uneducated, rednecks! So, take that term, and shove it straight up your ass!” she screamed, her anger boiling over into dangerous territory. 

Before either of the boys could say a word, a guttural, terrifying growl tore through the darkening woods. Y/N spun around to see what they’d been there to find. The Wendgio was only about thirty feet behind her, moving in quickly. Sam shouted for her to get behind him, breaking her out of her stupor. Once she’d cleared his line of sight, Sam grabbed his homemade flamethrower, flicking his lighter to ignite it, but nothing happened. He tried again but to no avail. Y/N’s screams tore through the night air…

“Run! Follow me!” 

The boys were quick at her heels as she weaved them in and out of the trees and underbrush. Dean couldn’t help but think about how impressed he was at her agility in that terrain. He could tell she’d grown up here and knew her way around, which brought him to his next thought. How guilty he felt for saying what he had. But now was not the time to apologize. Right now, he had to concentrate on not losing sight of her and getting shredded to pieces by the monster on their tails.  

“Here! Guys, hurry!” she shouted, an old moonshining cabin in her sight. 

Once she reached the cabin, she flung open the door, waiting for the boys to enter before slamming it shut, silently praying that the rickety lock would hold just long enough to devise a plan. 

“What the hell happened back there?” Dean asked, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. 

“I don’t know! The flamethrower has never not worked before,” Sam answered with the same labored breathing as his brother. 

“Well, we can figure that out later. Now, we need to figure out how to stay alive!” Y/N yelled, panic starting to set in. 

“Calm down, sweetheart. We’ll be okay,” Dean tried to calm her down, but she was still too angry with him. 

“Don’t! Do not ‘sweetheart’ me! You had no right to talk to me like that!” 

“Look, swe- Y/N, I’m sorry. But I don’t understand why that made you so mad,” Dean spoke as he looked around the cabin for something to use as a makeshift weapon. 

“That was a shit apology, Winchester. Just…just don’t speak to me until we get out of this mess,” she groaned, then mumbled, “If we live through this mess.” 

“Hey!” Dean shouted, getting her attention, “We are getting out of this. Don’t talk like that.” 

“Can you tell me how you plan to get us out of here? Cause I don’t see another way out except through the door that Wendigo is now trying to beat down!” 

As she walked toward Dean, her foot almost went through the floor, or at least it felt like it. She stopped, pushing down with her foot one more time. The bounce under her foot had her laughing loudly, and the boys looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Dean spoke as she started to rip the rug she stood on out of the way. 

“Care to tell us what you find so funny?” 

“This!” she continued to laugh in relief as she pointed to the hatch in the floor where she’d been standing, “It’s our way out!” 

“How do you know that? It could be just an old cellar,” Sam asked, walking over to inspect what she’d found. 

“Well, as Dean so nicely put it, us hillbillies would dig secret passageways to transport the moonshine back and forth without the police seeing them. They almost always lead to an abandoned coal mine or cave opening. Sometimes other cabins.” 

“Y/N, come on, I tried to apologize. I didn’t know it would upset you that much,” Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“Well, it did, and…” she started to argue when Sam interrupted them. 

“Maybe you two can finish this fight once we know we’re not going to die? Let’s go!” 

Y/N and Dean simultaneously rolled their eyes. Sam would have told them they were two peas in a pod if they weren’t in such a hurry to save their asses. Y/N was the first one down the ladder, explaining that she’d be their best bet for not getting completely lost underground, and neither brother disagreed. Dean followed, with Sam on his heels. Once they were underground, Y/N led the way, and the boys were impressed with how well she could get around in the tunnels. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Dean was going to ask if she really knew where she was going, but before he could open his mouth, they turned a corner and could see a light up ahead in the tunnel's ceiling. Y/N was climbing the ladder through another hatch before Dean knew what was happening. Maybe her nickname should be Squirrel instead of him, he chuckled to himself. As the last brother made it out of the tunnel and into another cabin, Y/N slammed the hatch, pushing an old, heavy piece of furniture over it. Luckily, this one was still quite furnished, with beds still in the bedrooms and an old couch in front of a fireplace. 

“This is home until morning,” she stated, looking around, finding, albeit dusty, pillows and blankets in a closet.

“Better than nothing,” Sam shrugged, walking into one of the bedrooms and shutting the door, leaving only one bedroom for her and Dean. 

“Looks like we’re sharing again, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Nah, take the bed. I’ll take the couch,” she whispered, not looking at him. Damn, she was still mad. 

“I’m not taking a bed and putting you on an old debilitated couch, Y/N.” 

“It’s fine. My adrenaline is still too high to sleep. Besides, I’ll keep watch so you can get some rest. You have to drive us back to the bunker tomorrow. I can sleep in the car.” 

“Y/N…” 

“No, Dean, it’s fine. Please, just take the bed. I’m too tired to argue,” she almost begged, wanting to be alone. 

“I thought you said you weren’t tired?” he smirked, trying to joke, but she wasn’t having it. 

“I’m mentally exhausted. I just need time to myself to wind down. Now, please, go get some sleep so we can get the hell out of here in the morning,” she pleaded, the look on her face breaking his heart. He had really hurt her with what he said. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Good night,” he said dejectedly, knowing it would be a sleepless night. His guilt would make sure of it. 

“Night,” she replied, turning her back to him, sitting down on the couch, staring out the window, never glancing his way. The click of the door made her wince as Dean went to bed.

Sleepless night was an understatement. Dean’s eyes didn’t close once as he lay there thinking how wrong the day had gone. He and Y/N had argued since their feet hit the floor that morning. Him being an ass was the reason for it. He hated fighting with her, but when he woke that morning, she was curled up at his side, her head on his chest. Usually, a man wouldn't complain about having a beautiful woman wrapped around him, but it tends to put you in a pissy mood when it’s a woman you love but can’t have. 

Dean was ass over tea kettle for Y/N, but he’d never tell her that. She deserved so much better than being saddled with a man who could barely stand his own company most days. He drank too much, and he wasn’t good at communicating how he felt. He knew that. Sam had told him many times he needed to learn to open up, but he didn’t want to burden anyone with the shitshow that was his mind. Especially her. So, as with his other emotions, he pushed his love for her deep and tried to ignore it. Lately, that hadn’t been working so well. As he lay there telling himself all the reasons he couldn’t have her, a sound caught his attention. He tiptoed to the door, cracking it slowly, and what he saw had him rushing out the door. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he quizzed her as he rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. Her sobs were what he’d heard. 

“I’m fine, Dean. Go back to bed,” she hiccuped through her tears. She couldn’t tell him the full truth. 

“Obviously, you are the opposite of fine. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, placing her chin between his thumb and index finger to turn her face to him, “Is this about today?” 

“Partially,” she admitted, trying to turn her head back to the window, but his grip wouldn’t let her.

“Y/N…I’m so so sorry. I know I was being an ass, but I had no idea it would hurt your feelings like that. Can you explain to me why? I’m not trying to fight. I honestly don’t understand.” 

“I’ve tried to get rid of the ‘hillbilly’ stigma since I left this place. It's always the same thing whenever someone finds out where I’m from. There’s this image people have about people from the Appalachian mountains that just aren’t true. We’re not a bunch of ignorant, uneducated people who live deep in the woods and never come out. Unfortunately, movies and TV shows have depicted us in such a bad light that most people think that’s all we are. And when that term comes from the man you…” she gasped, catching what she almost said. But Dean caught it as well. 

“The man you what, Y/N?” he asked, holding his breath. Was she about to admit what he thought? Maybe, just maybe, he could try to be better, be the man she deserved if she loved him too. 

“Dean…” she whimpered, trying to turn away from him again, but he wasn’t letting her go now. 

“Uh uh, say it. Say it, Y/N,” he pleaded, his eyes staring into hers, “Were you going to say the man you loved?” 

“Yes! Okay? I was going to say the man I loved!” she shouted in frustration as she jumped from the couch, finally breaking Dean’s hold on her, “Now, go ahead and tell me that you don’t see me that way, tell me that you don’t want me, so I can prepare to pack my shit and leave when we get back to the bunker. Because I can’t stay there and see you every day after your rejection. I just can’t.” 

Dean stood and walked to her as she stood staring out the window, her back to him after her confession. He touched her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. Her look of sadness and despair nearly ripped his heart from his chest. He thought having his heart literally ripped out would hurt less than seeing her like this. He slid his hand up from her shoulder to cup her cheek. A tear trickled down her face as she closed her eyes at his touch, and he swiped it away with his thumb. 

“Is that what you want me to tell you, or do you want me to tell you the truth?” he asked softly, waiting for her to open her eyes, which didn’t take a split second. Her eyes went wide. 

“What are you saying?” she uttered shakily. 

“I’m saying that I love you, too, Y/N. I have for a long time.” 

“But, but,” she stuttered, trying to find her words, “You were so mad at me when we woke up this morning. That isn’t how someone acts when they love the person in bed with them.” 

“Sweetheart, I was mad because I opened my eyes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen curled up against me, and all I could think was how I wanted it to mean something, and I didn’t think it ever would. If I’m being honest, you could do so much better. And thinking I’d never have you that way pissed me off because I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I want you, Y/N. You’re my first thought when I wake up, and I fall asleep picturing you beside me. I know I’m not a good man, and there’s someone out there that could and would give you more than I’ll ever be able to, but if you really love me, I’m going to be selfish for one time in my fucking life and ask you to give me a chance. I can guarantee that I’m going to piss you off and probably hurt your feelings again, but it will never be intentional. So, what do you say? You want to give us a shot?” He poured his heart out to her, leaning his forehead against hers as he waited for an answer. 

“Dean, contrary to what you believe, you are a good man. You love with your whole being and fiercely protect those lucky enough to get that love. I know you don’t believe you deserve it, but you deserve the world, Dean Winchester, and I’d be honored to be the one to try and give it to you.” 

“Really?” he asked with a million-watt smile, leaning back to look her in the eye. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she returned his smile, both sighing in relief. 

“Come here,” he growled, pulling her face to his and kissing her passionately. 

The kiss was better than either had imagined, and they both poured the love they felt for the other into it. They stayed that way until the need to breathe became too much, pulling away with smiles. He pulled her into a hug, laying his head on top of hers. They stayed silent for a few minutes before Dean broke the silence. 

“So, you want to move your stuff into my room when we get back? 

“I don’t know, Dean,” she pulled back, chewing on her bottom lip, “I really think we need to take this as slowly as possible. Make sure that we’re going to last.” 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” he agreed, his heart clenching at the hurt he felt. 

“I’m just joking,” she laughed, poking him in the ribs, “You’re not going to get rid of me now!” 

“Damn it, Y/N! That wasn’t funny! You almost gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, not finding her joke all that funny. 

“I think I’m hilarious,” she smirked up at him. 

“You’re something, alright. Now, how about we both try to get some rest? We have a lot of packing to do when we get home,” he suggested, leading her toward the bedroom, “You have a lot of shit. I don’t know where we’re going to put it all.” 

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned, “Well, we could always get rid of your vinyl collection to make room.” 

“Hey! Those are fighting words,” he growled playfully, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. 

“Bring it on, old man,” she cackled as his eyes shot up his forehead in shock. 

“I’ll show you an old man!” he said in faux anger, chasing her into the bedroom. 

All that could be heard as the bedroom door shut was the laughter and playful banter between the new couple, and that’s how it stayed for the years to come.

@flamencodiva​ @foxyjwls007​ @emoryhemsworth​ ​​ @valsworldofcreativity​​ @hardcoresupernaturalfans​​

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[rollingsins]

In the name of Taylor Swift

summary: You have to break up with Vada. In the name of Taylor Swift.

pairing: vada cavell x fem!reader

warnings: pure fluff.

word count: 900 words.

a/n: maybe one of the dumber things I've written, but I was in a fluffy mood for bbg Vada. Inspired by tiktok.

“Baby,” You huff dramatically as Vada walks through the door to your bedroom, “I’m glad you’re here. We have to break up.” 

Vada halts. She blinks, her brown eyes widening as her entire face falls. Her hands fall limp by her sides. She’d arrived, not two minutes ago, while you were toiling in bed, thinking seriously. Clutching a twelve inch record in your hands and deciding some things just had to be done. 

“What?” She asks, sounding crestfallen, “But I got you flowers.”

She gestures to the stack of lilies she has in hand. She looks wounded, confused, hurt. Like a little puppy you’ve just kicked in the face. 

Immediately, you sit up, heart falling. 

“No, babe,” You retract, reaching out to her. She blinks back at you, eyes as wide as chocolate buttons, “I wasn’t being serious.  Not a real breakup. A fake breakup. A fake-up.” 

Now, she’s confused. Her eyebrows knit together as you watch as she tries to work it out. 

“A fakeup?” She repeats, blinking slowly, “Why?” 

You tilt your head back to reveal your latest purchase. A shiny, purple vinyl of Taylor Swift’s latest record. 

“Taylor Swift just released an album and I need to experience it in full.” You say, quite seriously. You are serious when it comes to Taylor Swift. You’d thought Vada would know this by now. 

Vada stares. 

Your lips purse into a coo as you pry the lilies from her hand. 

“You got me flowers?” You say, rubbing your hand over her cheek, “That’s so sweet.” 

She smiles, a little shy. 

“Yeah. The lilies you like.” She says, and then she frowns again, “But I’m confused. Why does Taylor Swift mean we have to fake break up?”

“Because I need to be sad, babe,” You explain as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I need to feel pain the way she felt pain when she wrote these songs.”

“Doesn’t she have a nice song?” Vada asks, a little dubious. 

“No,” You say immediately, “I mean, yes, but I’m saving those ones for when we get back together.” 

“But we’re not apart.” Says Vada, still confused. 

You can’t resist. You lean down and press a kiss to the pout on her lips. 

“We are as of now.” You tell her. You exhale, close your eyes and try to think of Vada breaking up with you. A sharp pain flashes through your chest. You imagine her looking mournful as she does it. Stuttering over her words. Looking almost embarrassed as she tells you she never wants to see you again. 

It works, for a split second.

And then you open your eyes. 

She’s staring back at you, looking sweet as ever. Tilts her head like a confused puppy. 

“Say something mean,” You prompt.

She frowns. 

“No,” She says, “I don’t want to.”

“Babe,” You groan, “I need you to make me sad.” 

“I don’t want to make you sad,” She says. She leans into you and wraps her arms around your waist, snuggling into your chest, “I want you to be happy all the time.” 

You groan. In all your grand-scheming plans, you’d forgotten you were dating a literal ray of sunshine. A golden retriever of a girlfriend who’d never gotten mad at you, or said nasty things about you, or even had a bad thought about you in her life. 

But you need this. 

“Please?” You ask, smoothing down her dark hair to look into her eyes, “For me?” 

Vada frowns. She’d do anything you ask, this you know. And it's hardly a big ask. All she’d have to do is tell you she never wants to see you again and you’d cry and listen to ‘Last Kiss’ and pretend as if your entire world is crumbling. 

And then have vigorous make-up sex to ‘Sparks Fly’. A win-win, truly. A rollercoaster of emotions.  

You squeeze her shoulders in encouragement. 

“Okay,” Vada says, sounding resigned. Her eyebrows knit like she’s thinking hard, “I… don’t like your shoes.” 

At this, you snort. 

“You don’t like my shoes?” You ask, “That’s the meanest thing you could think of?” 

She looks up at you, pout still on her lips. 

“Yeah,” She says. She curls back into your chest, “Because you’re perfect and there’s nothing mean to say about you.”

She pauses. 

“And I actually do like your shoes,” She mumbles into your chest, “I’d steal them if we were the same size.” 

You sigh, wrapping your arm around her shoulders and lean down to kiss her head. 

“How am I supposed to listen to the album when you’re being so sweet?” You grumble. 

“We could listen to the nice songs together?” Vada pitches with a happy smile. And then her lips curl into a coy smile, “And then we could listen to the naughty songs and make out.” 

“There’s no naughty songs, babe, it’s Taylor Swift.” You say with a laugh. 

“Oh,” She looks a little disappointed, “Well, maybe we could make out to the sad songs and pretend like we just got back together?” 

You hum. 

Making out with Vada does sound a lot better than fake breaking up with her. She emphasizes her point with a kiss to your chest. 

“Fine.” You relent, leaning down to press your lips to hers. 

She sighs, happily, curling her hand against the back of your neck to pull you closer. 

“I hope you can rest easy knowing I’ll never experience the blood-curling pain Taylor Swift felt writing ‘Dear John’.” You grumble against her lips. 

She pulls back, a smile on her lips, “Good,” She says, “And you never will. I promise.”

[love-anddeepression]

absolutely obsessed with protective dad miguel omg, like if on a mission where a villains being a creep he would be so feral cause THAATS HIS DAUGHTER so joel coded

Hope you like this nonnie<3333 sorry if there’s any typos.

Tw: a creep. Panic attacks and feelings of inadequacy

"You know, of all the super-heroes I've fought, I'm going to enjoy defeating you the most." the villain grins and chokes you harder, his other hand travels down the side of your spidersuit and he pins you against a wall, "I think it's the suit."

"What is wrong with you dude?" you wheeze out.

He only punches you and his hand moves from your throat to your jaw, "Careful, girly. Or I might not be as merciful as I'm being right now."

You huff, "Yeah, sure. Okay.”

You only realise he’s being serious when his eyes turn animalistic and he grips your cheeks so your mouth is slightly open. That’s when you start to thrash around. Kicking everywhere and you manage to snag him in the balls and he doubles over.

You immediately break out into a run and let out a thwip of webs to swing above him.

Unbeknownst to you or the villain, Miguel O’Hara himself is swinging at full speed to that very alleyway because he was eyes on you.

The moment, he saw the villain acting the way he did, he decided one thing.

He was going to make him suffer.

The villain finally got to his feet and let out a breath and a groan.

He heard a sound behind him, from the dark of the alleyway and dared to turn around.

Two red eyes stared into his own.

He disappeared into the darkness as he was pulled in by garnet webs. The only thing that could be heard were shrieks of pain and the sound of bones being broken.

The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a snarl, “You will never touch anyone ever again.”

——————-

You were huddled in a corner of a balcony, hugging your knees as you replayed the memory over and over again. Every breath you took hurt and only quickened with each passing moment.

It’s not that serious you idiot what is wrong with you now he’s probably gotten away and Miguel is going to be pissed

You flinch at the sound of someone landing on the balcony. And you almost let out a sob in relief when you hear Miguel’s voice.

His head whips to where you are and his mask disintegrates. His eyes widen a little and he makes himself a bit smaller and says your name softly.

Your breathing slows a little as he breathes with you. Guiding you and his hand hesitantly brings your own away from where it’s holding your hair tightly.

“You’re okay.” His voice is soft and calm, “I’m here.”

With a hiccup you throw your hands around him, “I’m sorry, I fucked up.”

“Hey.” He pats your back soothingly, “it’s okay. I got him. The mission is over.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to.” Your voice breaks against his shoulder and so does his heart.

“I don’t care.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Almost.”

You pull back to look into his eyes, “sorry.”

“Shut up.never apologise. No one hurts my kid and and gets away with it.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. Understand?” He cups your cheeks softly, and your face scrunches up as tears form, “oh babygirl.” He breathes out as you start to sob.

“I just.. don’t want to be a burden.” You wheeze out between sobs.

That’s when he understands it’s not just about that asshole.

“You’re not a burden, honey.” He says against your hair as you hug him again.

He shushes you as your sobs only grow.

“Hey. Hey.” He pulls you away gently to look you in the eyes, “look at me. You’re not a burden. You’re a valuable asset to this team and we’re all lucky to have you. If anyone of them even heard what you’re saying right now, they’d be shocked. And then they’d be mad. I know that this feeling won’t go away immediately, but for today, know that none of this is your fault.”

“But he could have gotten away.”

“But he didn’t.” He reassures you.

“I can’t screw up like this, Miguel.”

“You can’t blame yourself. He was being a fucking creep and you ran away. It’s alright. You’re human.” He says your name to make a point. “And that’s okay. Okay?”

You breathe heavily and nod.

“Good. Now? Do you want to takeout? We can watch Star Wars back at home.”

You flash him a small smile, “yes please.”

He smiles and takes your hand, “Come on.”

You hug him once again and shake your head against his shoulder.

“You just wiped your nose on me, didn’t you?”

“No, what are you talking about?”

You know that the suit is a hologram right?”

“So the snot is on your shoulder?”

“I swear to god.”

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part6

multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

A few weeks later, Y/N found herself at the Red Bull Formula One team’s headquarters. Her company had been invited for a special event, showcasing new collaborative projects. The idea of being back in the F1 world was both exciting and nerve-wracking, but it wasn’t race weekend, so she didn’t expect to run into Lando.

As she walked through the impressive facility, she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Kelly Piquet, Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, was chatting animatedly with a few team members. Penelope, Kelly's adorable daughter, was playfully twirling around nearby. When Kelly’s eyes met Y/N’s, her face lit up with a warm smile.

“Y/N! Baby!” Kelly exclaimed, rushing over to embrace her. “It’s so good to see you!”

Y/N returned the hug, feeling a wave of nostalgia. “You too, Kelly. Oh my god it’s been way too long. I've missed you so much!”

Just then, Penelope ran up and wrapped her little arms around Y/N’s legs. “Auntie Y/N!” she squealed, looking up with bright eyes.

Y/N crouched down to give the little girl a proper hug. “Hey, P! You’ve gotten so big!”

Max Verstappen, standing a few feet away, turned around at the commotion and grinned when he saw Y/N. “Well, if it isn’t the famous Y/N,” he teased, walking over to join the group. “Long time no see.”

Y/N stood up, returning Max’s grin. “Hey, Maximus. Congrats on the last race, by the way. You were incredible. Cute little family you've got here.”

“Thanks Y/N,” Max said, giving her a friendly hug. “How’ve you been? We haven's seen much of you since- well yeah, missed you alot. How are you?”

“Busy, but good,” she replied. “It’s nice to be back in this world, even if it’s just for a bit.”

Kelly looped her arm through Y/N’s. “We’ve missed having you around. It’s not the same without you.”

Y/N smiled, her heart warming at the welcome. “I’ve missed you guys too. It feels like coming home.”

Penelope tugged at Y/N’s hand. “Come play with me, Auntie Y/N!”

Laughing, Y/N allowed herself to be pulled towards a small play area. “Alright, P. What are we playing?”

As she engaged with Penelope, Kelly and Max exchanged knowing looks, happy to see their friend smiling and relaxed. It was a moment of genuine connection and warmth, a reminder that some bonds remained unbroken despite the turbulence of the past.

Kelly watched Y/N with Penelope and then leaned closer to Max. “I hope today goes smoothly for her. She deserves a break from all of that. She is still hurting y'know baby?”

Max nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “Yeah, she does deserve a good day today. It’s good to see her smile again after we missed out on seeing it for months..”

Y/N lifted Penelope onto her shoulders, the little girl giggling with delight. “Alright, P, let’s go get some apple juice!” she said, feeling the joy of the moment lighten her heart.

As they made their way through the crowd, Y/N’s thoughts drifted. It feels good to be surrounded by friends again. Maybe I can finally put the past behind me. She smiled at Penelope, who was happily pointing out various sights around the Red Bull facility.

Turning a corner, Y/N suddenly collided with someone. Penelope squealed in surprise, and Y/N instinctively reached out to steady herself and the little girl. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up and met Lando’s equally startled eyes.

Oh no. Not now, not here.

Lando’s surprise quickly shifted to a mix of emotions. Y/N? Of all places, here? And she looks as beautiful as ever, You're joking. His heart pounded in his chest, memories of their recent argument and their past flooding his mind.

Before either could react, Penelope squealed with delight. “Uncle Lando!” she exclaimed, leaning over Y/N’s shoulders to hug him. This caused Y/N and Lando to be pulled closer together, their faces just inches apart, almost as if they were embracing. Lando wanted to wrap his arms around the woman in front of him and never let go. He missed this, the feeling of being loved by Y/N.

“Penelope, careful,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart racing from the sudden proximity to Lando.

“Hey, P,” Lando managed to say, his voice strained. He gently ruffled Penelope’s hair, trying to focus on the little girl and not the overwhelming presence of Y/N so close to him. Why does this still affect me so much?

Penelope’s excitement was palpable. “Y/N is getting me apple juice! Come with us, Uncle Lando!”

This is not happening. Please, not now. Y/N could feel her pulse quicken, a mix of anxiety and the unresolved feelings she thought she had buried deep.

Lando forced a smile, though he could feel the tension radiating from Y/N. “Sure, P. Let’s get you that apple juice,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. Stay calm, don’t let her see how much this affects you.

They walked together, a somewhat awkward silence settling over them. Y/N could feel the weight of Lando’s presence beside her, each step bringing back memories she had tried so hard to suppress. Just focus on Penelope. Don’t think about him.

When they reached the refreshment table, Penelope squirmed off Y/N’s shoulders and eagerly grabbed a cup of apple juice. “Thank you, Auntie Y/N!” she chirped, then looked up at Lando. “Can we play a game now?”

Y/N forced a smile, her voice strained. “Why don’t you go show Max your juice, P? I’m sure he’d love to see it.”

Penelope nodded enthusiastically and ran off, leaving Y/N and Lando standing awkwardly by the table. The tension between them was palpable, neither knowing what to say.

Lando finally broke the silence. “Y/N… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

What are you even supposed to say in a moment like this?

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be here either,” Y/N replied, her voice tinged with an edge she couldn’t quite suppress. Stay calm. Don’t let him get to you.

Lando looked down, his fingers drumming nervously against the table. “How have you been?” he asked, the question loaded with more meaning than he intended.

“Fine,” she said shortly, trying to keep her emotions in check. Don’t show him how much he still affects you.

The silence stretched between them, filled with everything left unsaid. Finally, Y/N took a deep breath. “Lando, about what I said last time…”

Lando shook his head, cutting her off. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.” But his eyes betrayed the hurt he still felt. I don’t think I can handle this right now.

Just then, Penelope returned, tugging on Lando’s hand. “Come on, Uncle Lando Auntie Y/N! Let’s go play!”

Lando forced a smile, grateful for the distraction. “Sure thing, P.”

As they walked away, Y/N watched them go, her heart heavy with the weight of unresolved feelings and the painful realization that moving on was going to be much harder than she ever anticipated. Maybe it’s time to face the past, no matter how much it hurts.

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313

comment to get added to taglist

[whore-ibly-hot]

Y'all remember Kory Koffman that soft English Teacher? Dawg, I don't know if I should hug and squeeze the air out of that or give him the most sloppiest slop ever. Either way, I love men like that.

"I appreciate this, so, so much you couldn't possibly understand..." He whispering out rambling statements. The occasional moan that slips from his lips he always manages to stifle by biting down lightly on his index finger, hands gripping the hard mahogany desk behind him.

He wants to make eye contact so bad, but he knows the sight of his perfect favorite student on their knees, suckling at his cock, would make him blow immediately, ruining the experience he wished he could make last forever. "Its been a long time." He admits. "A really long time since I've gotten to do anything like this; since anyone's done anything like this to me." He chuckles weakly, removing his fogged up glasses and setting them on the desk. "Being cooped up in here all day, as much as I love it doesn't leave me a lot of time to go out and pursue... other things." He admits.

A sudden hollowing of your cheeks makes him grian, failing to stifle it this time. "God, this is so good, shit, whew-" He's trying to keep it down. "I'm getting close, if you w-wanr me finishing elsewhere you have to pull off now." He warns, and the glance up you give him, pretty wet eyes, your refusal to move, make his cock twitch. It's over for him, and he lets out not a moan, but the most pitiful little squeak you've heard. "Shit!" He yells, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth as he bucks against your mouth, trying his best not to gag you.

He can't even bare to look as you swallow, he's sensitive, he doesn't want to go again but he knows if he sees that it'll all rush back to his now limp cock. Closing his eyes, a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. "Thank you, tha k you again." After a moment, he's hears a shuffling fabric. He winces momentarily at the idea you're already getting up to go, when he feels a pressure on his chest. Fumbling for his glasses and sliding them on, he sees you leaned on him, arms around his waist in a soft hug.

He's worried at first. "Oh, my dear, oh no..." He strokes your back out of instinct. "Did i hurt you, or bruise you, I really didn't mean to; what do you need, what do you-"

You just look up at him, not hurt or crying "Tired." You mumble. "I'm tired, just sleepy." You explain.

He nods in understanding, releasing a breath in relief. "I see. You want me to move you to the couch by my desk. No one comes in at this time of night, I could let you rest while I finish up some work-"

"Wanna stay here." You mumble, yawning into his chest and muffling your sounds against his thick sweater vest. His face goes red, somehow more embarrassed by this than the public act of intimacy from earlier. He smiles, its giddy. He slowly lifts shaky hands to press you closer into him.

"Yeah. That can be arranged too."

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hii, i love your storys and i hope you could do a Casey Nowak one, were casey is older than the reader. Casey has her menopause and has not that much of a high sex drive anymore and other menopause symtomes. She is really scared that the reader will leaver her. They have to find a way to handel the "problem".

Hey, friend! Hope you enjoy! 💖 - illdowhatiwantthanks

Changes

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: implied sex, discussions about sex, menopause, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Something's wrong with Casey. You can tell. But she doesn't seem to want to talk about. You're worried you've done something wrong, but it turns out to be something neither of you have control over.

It was one of those days that should have been perfect. A light rain outside served as the perfect excuse for you and Casey to stay in bed all day. And, for the most part, that’s where you’d been. Besides a late brunch–pancakes eaten hot as you stood by the kitchen counter–you’d been lounging around. Casey had gotten a bit of work done, but her laptop sat abandoned on the nightstand now as you straddled her hips, lavishing her in long, slow kisses. You took your time with her; you had time to take today.

But there came a moment when you realized, even as aroused as you were, that Casey was no longer kissing you back, not really. You pulled back, looking at her curiously, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You okay, love?” you asked.

Casey avoided your eyes. “Yeah. I’m sorry, honey, I’m just not feeling it today.”

“That’s okay,” you assured her, moving to lay beside her. And it was. It was always okay if Casey wasn’t feeling it. But you couldn’t help the aching in your lower stomach, the wetness pooling that you knew would probably not be taken care of today. And probably not tomorrow. The truth was, Casey hadn’t been feeling it much at all lately, which was odd for her. For the entirety of your relationship, over five years now, Casey had always had by far the highest sex drive of the two of you. But now, it was like a switch had been flipped.

Nevertheless, you tried your best to be loving and supportive, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing your face into the crook of her neck. But as soon as you did, Casey squirmed away, huffing.

“Y/N, just…don’t touch me right now, okay?!”

Her voice was rough, harsh, and you flinched. Casey sighed and covered her face with her hands, flushing deeply. You moved away, watching her with concern. Casey never yelled at you. And she always liked to be touched. So much so that you teased her about it. Something was wrong. And it had to have been something you did.

You wondered what it was. It must have been something bad for Casey to react like this. Casey was so direct, she didn’t let anything fester. So for her to avoid talking about it? You wracked your brain, going over the last weeks and months of your relationship, trying to figure out what you’d done to drive a wedge between the two of you.

You felt tears form in the corners of your eyes. This had never happened. Not with Casey. You talked things through. You worked things out. You left nothing unsaid or unspoken. You were suddenly terrified that something had ruptured, something that you wouldn’t be able to fix.

“I’m sorry, Casey,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

She turned quickly to look at you, her eyes wide with surprise and concern. “Oh, honey, for what?” she asked, wiping a loose tear from underneath your eye.

“I can tell something’s wrong,” you said, your voice quiet. “Did I do something? Did I hurt you?”

Casey exhaled heavily, a few of her own tears glistening in her eyes.

“It’s not you, sweetheart, it’s me,” she mumbled.

Your heart dropped all the way to your stomach. It’s not you, it’s me. That’s what people said before they left you.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Casey groaned and rubbed her temples, chuckling a little. “But you might want to break up with me after this.”

“Casey,” you pleaded. “Please talk to me. What the hell is going on!?”

She sniffled, a single tear dripping down the side of her face, and you grasped her fingers in yours.

“I haven’t had a period in three months.” She spoke quickly, as if afraid she might not get it all out.

Your hand shot to your mouth. “You’re pregnant!?”

Casey choked out something that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Y/N, I’m gay. How would that even happen!? I’m not pregnant.” She took a shaky breath. “I’m starting menopause.”

You were silent for a moment, watching as Casey squeezed her eyes shut, trying (and mostly failing) to suck the tears back into her eyes.

“Oh,” you said, when you finally spoke. And then felt like an absolute idiot that that’s what you led with. But this was new, and you weren’t really sure how to address it. You were years, maybe even decades, away from menopause yourself, but you wanted to do all you could to support Casey.

“Well, are you…” You stumbled through your words, as if tripping over rocks. “Do you feel… okay? How are you– God…” You covered your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry, love, I’m completely fucking this up.”

When you removed your hands from your face, you were shocked to see Casey shaking with sobs.

You surged toward her. “Hey,” you cooed, your voice heavy with emotion. Your hands stopped just before touching her. “Can I… Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nodded, shuddering, and you pulled her onto you so that she could rest her head on your chest and you could wrap your arms protectively around her, placing a flurry of kisses on the top of her head. When her tears had subsided and her breathing slowed, you carded your fingers through her hair, hoping the rhythm would help calm her.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she said, her voice rough from crying. “You’re not doing anything wrong. I just… I’m hot as hell all the time, and I’m moody, and I’m dry as the fucking Sahara.”

“You are hot all the time,” you teased, resting your chin on her head.

She swatted at your arm. “This just…” Casey sniffled again, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “It’s not what you signed up for. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Casey.” You sighed, caressing her cheek. “This is exactly what I signed up for.”

“No, it’s not. I’m basically an old lady.”

“Hey,” you said, tilting her chin up so she had to look at you. “I can assure you that you’re not an old lady. You know how I know?”

Casey shook her head.

“Because I don’t want to fuck old ladies.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled a bit.

“Now when you’re actually an old lady, like a little meemaw, and we’re living in the retirement village, I’m sure then I’ll want to fuck old ladies because I’ll be old, too, and my tastes will have grown with me. But for now? No old ladies. Only MILFs.”

Casey giggled, and you smiled, glad to see your girl feeling like herself again.

“Okay,” she conceded, still a bit hesitant. “But you deserve sex if that’s what you want. And I… I don’t really want sex very much right now.”

You stared at her, eyebrows raised. “Come on, now, Counsellor, you work SVU. You know better than that. Nobody deserves sex. That’s not how it works. And I think you forget that I know my way around a vibrator.”

“Yeah, but–” You shushed her quickly with a finger pressed lightly on her lips.

“No buts. I love you, Case. Not because you’re great in bed. Although…” You shrugged. “I mean, you are. I love you because you’re you. That’s not gonna change.”

Casey sighed. “Okay,” she whispered, snaking her arms around you.

You sat like that for a few minutes, relieved to be on the same page again, to know what was wrong. And even though you might not be able to fix it, you could at least be there for her.

Casey finally spoke, her fingers playing lightly with the drawstring of your sweatpants. “If you wanted to try out the vibrator… Maybe I could watch?”

You shot up, staring at Casey as she smirked at you, desperately hoping she was serious. “Really?”

She nodded, propping herself up with her elbow. You launched yourself out of bed, full-on sprinting to the closet, where you kept all the toys. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you breathed.

Casey laughed and called out, “You better not come too fast! That’s no fun for me.”

You grinned, poking out of the closet to point at her. “See? I told you! MILF.”

Casey shook her head playfully, relieved that you’d taken the news so well. And so, so happy that you were hers. As you rifled through the closet, you felt much the same.

[ohithankyou]

decided to watch all of buck’s breakups last night and here are (part) of the conversations/how each of the breakups played out to compare and contrast if you so desire. i didn’t include the entire conversations because it would be too long and i think the parts i included capture the core of the breakups well enough.

note: information in square brackets is just some context i included since i didn't add the full conversations

buck and abby, breakup, 1x10:

[after abby’s mom passes and she books a ticket to ireland in an effort to find herself and what she wants]

abby: “. . .i care about you so much. you’re amazing. and these last few months, i think you've gotten me, at least halfway, to the person i want to be. but I've got to do this [go to ireland/travel] so that i know i have something to give.”

buck: “i’m excited for you. almost as much as i am, um, sad for me. i’m gonna miss you.”

abby: “i’m gonna miss you, too.”

[when buck is dropping her to the airport]

abby: "you're not gonna come in with me?"

buck: "i learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors."

abby: "i must be crazy to be leaving you behind."

buck: "you're not leaving anything behind. you're moving toward something. and i'm gonna be right here when you come back, okay? go on. you got this, okay?"

abby: "take care of yourself, okay?"

buck: "you, too, abby."

buck and abby, ‘closure’, 3x18:

[after abby and buck meet for the first time since 1x10 when she and her finance are in a train derailment and buck + the 118 save his life]

abby: “. . .i just had no sense of self. i had to leave everything that i knew so that i could remember who i actually am.”

buck: “and you did, right? i mean, you did remember, but you still didn't come home.”

abby: “yeah, i know. i think i was afraid that if i came back, i would become that person again. because i missed you. i wanted to see you. but i didn't trust myself.”

buck: “because being here, being with me, you might lose yourself again?”

abby: “yeah.”

buck: “i’m glad to see you happy, abby. you deserve it.”

—

buck and ali, 2x18:

[after buck’s leg gets crushed under the fire truck and it hits ali what it means to be with a firefighter]

ali: “. . .look, it’s not like i didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when i met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.”

buck: “exactly.”

ali: “that was one day. one day of my life, evan. it’s every day for you. i’m just starting to really understand what that means.”

buck: “wait, so-so you want me to quit my job, that's what you're asking me to do?”

ali: “no, i would never, i would never ask you to do that. listen. i know it's who you are. i’m just not sure. if it's…”

buck: “…who you are.”

ali: “hey. i don't know yet. okay?”

—

buck and taylor, 5x18:

[after taylor publishes the story about jonah buck had asked her not]

taylor: “. . .i’m sorry you're still upset about the story.”

buck: “you’re not sorry for what you did, though.”

taylor: “the story was gonna come out regardless. if i hadn't have broken it, someone else would have.”

buck: “you couldn't have called me first? no. you-you just, you figured i’d be fine. i’d get over it.”

taylor: “buck, i wasn't trying to hurt you or anyone else. i was just trying to get the truth out there. a truth the public has every right to know.”

buck: “this is literally our first argument all over again.”

taylor: “which is why we shouldn't be having it. you knew who i was when we started dating.”

buck: “i guess i thought i could learn to live with it.”

taylor: “i don't want to be something you have to learn to live with.”

buck: “and i don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. i need things to be different, taylor.”

taylor: “okay. i’m willing to try that. clean slate.”

buck: “yeah. just not together.”

—

buck and tommy, 8x06:

[after bucks tells tommy that he also dated abby]

buck: ". . .my relationship with abby was—it was the most transformative of my life. until now. look, i-i think one of the reasons that i am so comfortable with you is-is 'cause you're so comfortable with you."

tommy: "i wasn't always that way."

buck: "i know, i-i do. and honestly, it just makes me admire you more."

buck: "i want you to move in with me. i want you to move in with me. i-'m ready to take the next step. and i'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you. all I'm saying is, why be apart when we can be together?"

tommy: "evan, that is so sweet but I can't move in with you."

buck: "and why not?"

tommy: "because, i know how this ends."

buck: "uh, wh-what's that supposed to mean?"

tommy: "look, evan. you're an incredible guy. big-hearted. hot as hell. funny. impulsive. but what you're feeling right now is... is new. and it's exciting, and it feels like forever. but you're still figuring yourself out. and that's good."

buck: "what are you saying?"

tommy: "i'm saying no matter how bad i wanted to be, i'm not your last. i'm your first."

buck: "well, hey, they-they can be the same thing."

tommy: "but they usually aren't. if i were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it but you'd end up breaking my heart. and i, i don't think that i could deal with that."

tommy: "i should go."

buck: "wait, wait, wait, hey, hey, um... wait, d-did you just break up with me?"

tommy: "yeah. i guess i did. believe me, i didn't see it coming, either. should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. i'll see you around, buck."

[lxvemaze]

⫸ you know i love you

synopsis. when your best friend needs to show his parents that he's settled down enough for them to offer him a job in their company, he asks for your help- in the form of a fake engagement.

pairing. nonidol!/ceo's son!cha eunwoo x reader

genre. ceo's son au, childhood friends to lovers, fake relationship

wc. 10k!! (longest fic i've ever published, bear with me.)

warnings. some mild sexual references, some hurt lots of comfort, dongmin is silly, is jinwoo a wingman or a shit starter? we'll never know

a/n. this idea popped into my mind and i just loved it so much, i had to write it. happy holidays, ya'll!

January 15th

“There is no way in hell you’re actually that stupid.”

“I’m not stupid! You’re just not hearing me out!” Dongmin called out from the small couch in the living room of your sixth-floor studio apartment as you leaned against the counter in the kitchen, waiting for the water for your tea to boil.

You and Dongmin have been friends for over twenty years now. His father was the CEO of a huge company, his mother was the CFO of the same company, and your mother was their housekeeper. She was also basically Dongmin’s nanny, tutor, and personal chef. Starting from the age of six years old, your mother worked out a deal with Dongmin’s parents so that every day after school, their personal driver would pick Dongmin up from his fancy private school, then drive to your significantly less fancy public school, and then drive the two of you back to Dongmin’s house, where the two of you would hang out and do your homework while your mother took care of things around the house until Dongmin’s parents came home.

This routine lasted until the two of you graduated high school. Over the years, the two of you had become close as could be, even hanging out on the weekends. There was never room for any doubt in your friendship; even though Dongmin had gone to Oxford University in the UK, which was arguably the most extra school he’d gotten accepted into (you had begged him to go to Columbia University so you could visit New York), you stayed home and worked in your father’s little corner store. But even so, Dongmin traveled home for every long weekend, every holiday, and every vacation he had. And he spent all the time he was home with you.

You’d done a lot of dumb things to get each other out of a lot of sticky situations in the past, but what he was suggesting now was a new low.

“Well, I don’t really think getting married is the best course of action.” You mused as you poured the hot water into the two waiting mismatched coffee mugs.

“You’re not listening!” Dongmin exclaimed as he hopped over the back of the couch and strolled into the kitchen, leaning on the counter as he watched you steep the tea.

“Then explain to me how this is a good idea.”

“Because. I’m pushing thirty now-”

“You’re twenty seven.”

“Pushing thirty. And my folks want to retire soon, and my dad wants me to take his place, which is like, what I’ve been shooting for since I was a kid. But my mom is pushing back because she thinks I’m not mature enough. She says that she won’t even think about letting me join the company until I’ve shown that I’ve settled down.”

“You go to the club literally every weekend. I think I might be on your mom’s side on this one.” You handed Dongmin his mug of tea and strolled into the living room, settling down on the couch, and picking up the remote to browse for a movie to watch.

“Yeah, but if I stop going to the club for a while and make it look like I'm in a serious relationship, then my mom will see how mature I’ve gotten, and let me join the company!” Dongmin gleefully relayed his plan to you as he stole the blanket from your lap and wrapped it around himself, curling into the other corner of the couch.

“And you think that us getting married is your best bet?”

“Not married! Fake engaged. There’s a difference.”

“Let me reiterate; you really think getting fake engaged to me is the best idea?”

Dongmin turned to you, confusion written all over his face, “yeah? You’re like, my best friend.”

“Well, duh. I just think your mom would prefer it if you got engaged to like, another rich girl.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes and snatched the remote out of your hand, scrolling for a moment before pressing play on a random nature documentary. “I think my mom would see it as a win either way. She’s been on my ass to get into a serious relationship since I started university. Which is totally unfair, by the way! Jinwoo hasn’t had a date since middle school, and he’s already on track to be the COO at his dad’s company. And Myungjun’s had like, twelve relationships in the past year and a half, and his startup is already turning a massive profit.”

“Rich people problems.” You sighed, watching as a lion on TV devoured a gazelle.

“Yeah, it is. But I never ask you for anything. I think you owe me. And I can’t keep working at Minhyuk’s parents company forever. It’s getting kind of embarrassing.”

You remembered all the times that Dongmin paid to have you flown out to England, paid for you to stay in fancy hotels, car service, room service, treated you to extravagant meals, the tens of thousands of dollars worth of birthday and Christmas presents he’d bought you over the years. And you realize, he’s right. You do owe him.

“Okay…We need a plan.”

Dongmin practically jumped out of his seat at your sudden agreement. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, reaching over to grab the remote, turning the TV down. “But we’re gonna need it to be airtight if we want this to be believable.”

“You’re the smart one. Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it.”

As you looked at Dongmin’s gleeful face, you almost regretted agreeing to his scheme. Dongmin saw the crease between your brows, and reached over to poke your shoulder.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I know it’s kind of a lot.”

You brushed him off with a shrug of your shoulder. “No, you’re right. I owe you. This is honestly the least I could do.”

“Then let’s do this.” He grinned, holding up his pinkie finger in front of you. You playfully rolled your eyes with a scoff before linking your pinkie in his.

“Let’s do it.”

January 18th

“No, that one’s not big enough.”

You sighed as Dongmin rejected yet another one of your suggestions. “I’m the one who has to wear it, why do you have such a strong opinion?”

“Because I’m the one buying it!”

You and Dongmin were currently at a swanky jewelry shop searching for the perfect engagement ring. At seven in the morning. On a Thursday. Neither of you were in a particularly good mood.

“Shouldn’t you want a smaller ring, then?” You questioned his logic, looking up at him with a cocked brow.

“Hey, only the best for my future wifey-poo.” Dongmin made a kissy face at you, causing you to audibly groan in disgust, pushing his face away. You ignored his giggles as you felt your phone buzz. You saw the most recent text was from your father, asking you to come into work early to help him open his corner store.

“Okay. Well, I have to go to work.”

“Nooooo! You can’t make me do this by myself! The dinner’s next weekend and we won’t have time to meet up again before then.” He protested, grabbing your arm and bouncing on the balls of his feet like a spoiled child- which he was.

“I would say I trust you, but I don’t. You know my ring size, I don’t want anything big, I don’t want anything gold, do not get me anything square cut, and for the love of God, please just ask the lady at the counter for help instead of just buying me the first thing you see that you don’t hate.” You patted his shoulder and made your way out the shop, waving a goodbye to him over your shoulder. You could see Dongmin’s downtrodden expression in the reflection on the glass door as you left. You just hoped he would get you something understated. You would be having to wear it every day for the foreseeable future.

You and Dongmin had spent nearly three hours the other night working out your plan.

Dongmin had invited his parents over for dinner at his swanky penthouse next Saturday night. He’d hired a fancy chef to make the dinner, and a decorator to make his apartment look not so “twenty seven year old single man-child”. After the main course and right before dessert, he would stand from his chair and announce that he had something important to say. Then, he would turn to you, get on one knee, and propose with whatever hopefully not-ugly ring he’d chosen today. To which his parents would hopefully be overjoyed and proud, and after at most a few months, they’d realize how mature he’d gotten since getting engaged, and give him the job in their company.

You weren’t sure it would work, you weren’t sure how long it would take, but you were determined to go through with it. After all the amazing opportunities and experiences that Dongmin had given you over the years, you figured that the least you could do was pretend to be his fiancee for a few months.

January 27th

Today was the day he would propose. You’ve never been this stressed in your entire life. A package had been delivered to your door with a note from Dongmin inside, “Blue has always been your color.” You had been staring at the dress in the box for the past ten minutes, trying to not think about how many thousands of dollars he’d spent on it. He was right, though. He’d taken you to Japan for spring break a few years ago and the two of you’d gotten a color palette analysis done. You’d have assumed he’d forgotten all about it, but the beautiful navy dress on your bed proved otherwise.

You looked at the time on your phone, the numbers 4:27 glared up at you, eliciting a sigh from your mouth. The weight of your actions was starting to weigh down on your shoulders. Why did you have to agree to this? It’s not like you didn’t like Dongmin’s family- they were fine! From the limited interactions you’d had with them over the years and from what Dongmin’s told you about them, they were perfectly nice people. But it was only natural for you to be a little bit intimidated by them. They were wealthy, powerful people, and you were about to get “engaged” to their son.

You got ready slowly, almost unconsciously dragging out the process as long as you could. Your phone rang right as you were slipping on the sleek black pumps Dongmin had bought for you last summer while he was vacationing in Paris.

“Yes?” You picked up the phone, looking at yourself in the mirror one last time before meeting your doom. You looked good. Hopefully good enough.

“I’m waiting in the car. Are you ready?” Dongmin’s pixelated voice rang out through the phone. You grabbed your purse, put on your coat, took a deep breath, and walked out your door.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Without another word, Dongmin hung up the call. You scoffed and dumped your phone in your bag. You silently thanked whatever invisible force was on your side that day, as the elevator in your building that had been broken for the past two months had finally gotten fixed. You were not looking forward to walking down six flights of stairs in those heels.

As soon as you walked outside your building, you spotted Dongmin’s fancy black car. You couldn’t see him through the tinted windows, but you knew it was him when his driver stepped outside and walked around the car to open the back door for you. You slid into the backseat where Dongmin was playing a game on his phone. He looked up at you briefly, mumbling a “Hey”, and going back to staring at the screen.

You rolled your eyes at your iPad kid of a best friend and rested your head on the window as the car drove through the busy city streets.

Twenty minutes later, you pulled up to Dongmin’s penthouse. No matter how many times you’d been there, you would always be in awe at the massive building.

“You okay?” You turned to look at Dongmin as he spoke, meeting his eyes, seeing the concerned look on his face, you put on a smile, and lightly punched his shoulder as his driver opened the door.

“Of course. Not like I’m about to pretend to get engaged to my best friend in front of his family or anything.”

Dongmin didn’t look convinced as he took your hand in his before you had the chance to leave the car. “You know, it’s not too late to back out.”

His words didn’t do anything to quell the uncertainty in your stomach. But still, you put on a brave face and playfully rolled your eyes. “As if anyone else would be willing to get engaged to you.”

Your words seemed to sate Dongmin’s concern as he rolled his eyes in turn and shoved your arm, prompting you to step out of the car. You looked up at the tall building in front of you and took a shaky breath. It’s not like it was real. You didn’t actually have to get married to him or anything. It was all temporary.

“They’ll be here any minute. We should go up.” Dongmin’s warm breath on your ear caused you to jump, prompting him to flash you a confused look. You shook your head and followed him into the building, mentally hyping yourself up for the night that was to come.

|

“You look beautiful, darling.”

Dongmin’s parents had arrived ten minutes after you had, and you had been internally screaming the entire time since then. You were sat next to Dongmin at the table in his huge dining room with his mother sitting directly across from you. 

“Ah, thank you so much. You know, Dongmin bought pretty much my entire outfit.” You replied, doing your best to keep your shaky hands still as you cut through your expensive steak. You could see Dongmin trying to hold in his laughter in the corner of your eye. Clearly seeing you in intense mental turmoil was funny to him.

“Oh, our Dongmin has always been such a thoughtful boy.”

Thoughtful. Hilarious.

“Yeah, he’s great.”

“So, dear, are you still working at your fathers shop?”

You took a sip of wine and wiped your fingers on your napkin. “Yeah, I am. But I’m planning on applying to some jobs in corporate. Even if just working in the mail room or reception.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure we could find you a job somewhere in our company. I’m sure I know someone that could use a secretary or assistant.” Dongmin’s father spoke up, causing Dongmin to choke on his wine. You lightly patted his back as he coughed into his elbow, offering a tight-lipped smile to his confused parents.

“That’s very kind, but you really don’t have to do that.” You spoke over Dongmin’s coughing.

“We’d love to have you in our company, really. You and your parents are practically family.”

Dongmin took a deep breath as his coughing fit came to an end. “Are you guys for real?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we be?”

Dongmin stayed quiet for the rest of the main course, leaving you alone to continue awkwardly conversing with his parents, and ignoring every kick under the table that you gave him.

“So Dongmin, why did you set up this dinner, anyway?” Dongmin’s mother asked, leaning back in her chair as dessert was being made.

“Well…” Dongmin started. ‘Here we go’ you thought as your leg started shaking. “You know that the two of us have been friends for a long time.” He continued, taking your hand in his, looking at you with what anyone on the outside would see as fondness, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he was struggling to not burst out laughing.

“I hope this doesn’t come as a shock to you two, but we’re ready to take the next step…” Dongmin rose from his seat and pushed it to the side, immediately dropping to one knee in front of you. He softly spoke your name as he looked up at you. You could tell he was about to lose it.

You heard his mother gasp from the other side of the table as he continued, “You’ve been by my side for as long as I can remember. You’ve been my best friend, my partner in crime, and my biggest supporter. We’ve been through every step of our lives together. But I want to go through the next part of our lives…With you as my wife.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that his speech was very sweet. But you did know better. And now you were the one struggling to hold in your laughter.

Dongmin reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, “Will you marry me?” He opened the box and your jaw hit the ground. He did good. He did really good. The ring was exactly what you wanted. It was a small round cut diamond surrounded by smaller gems on a beautiful silver band.

You ecstatically nodded your head, holding out your hand for Dongmin to slip the ring onto your finger. The two of you stood up and hugged each other tightly. “I asked the lady at the counter.” He whispered in your ear. You giggled into his shoulder before his mother spoke up.

“Well, it’s about time!”

The smiles immediately dropped off of your faces. 

…What?

The two of you pulled away from each other, slowly turning to look at his parents as they beamed at the two of you from across the table.

“The two of you have been attached at the hip since you were kids. It was only a matter of time.” His father agreed, holding his wife’s hand as the two of them looked up at you with an endearing gaze.

“...Huh?”

February 11th

“Oh yeah, my mom is throwing a valentine’s day party and she wants to know if you’re gonna be there.”

Dongmin was in your kitchen drying and putting away dishes as you washed them.

“Why would I be there?”

“...Because we’re engaged?”

“Oh, yeah.”

You hadn’t actually forgotten. You couldn’t now that your parents knew. As soon as your mother had shown up to work the day after the dinner, Dongmin’s mom was immediately gushing about the engagement that you had forgotten to let your mom in on. Your mom immediately called your dad to tell him about it, and then he immediately called you.

You couldn’t just tell them that it was a lie- they were just so happy about it, you didn’t have the heart to break it to them.

“I can’t just show up to my parents' valentine's party without my fiancée.” Dongmin whined as he put away your ancient cast-iron frying pan. You rolled your eyes behind his back.

“You don’t have to show up at all, actually.”

“Let’s be real for a second. There is no way that my mother will let me get out of going to one of her parties, and I really don’t want to go by myself.” Dongmin gave you his best puppy dog eyes, which caused you to physically hold yourself back from laughing in his face.

“Pleeeeease. I’ll buy you a new outfit for it. I swear to God, you’ll be the prettiest girl there. I’ll have to be constantly throwing hands to keep those gross corporate men’s hands off my gorgeous fiancée.”

“Whatever. I’ll go. You don’t have to buy me a new outfit.” You relented, drying off your hands before opening the fridge to grab a soda.

“You aren’t wearing your ring.”

You looked down at your left hand before looking back up at Dongmin, “Yeah. Our parents aren’t around, why would I?”

You didn’t see Dongmin’s pout as you flopped onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you settled into the squishy furniture.

“Okay, but I spent a lot of money on that rock. Also, didn’t you say it put off that creepy guy who works at the coffee shop?” Dongmin hopped over the back of the couch to sit right next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Well, yeah. I wear it in public. But why would I wear it when I’m in the comfort of my own home?” You moved his arm from your shoulder, opting to ignore the disappointed sigh that came from your best friend.

“I’ll take you shopping for the party tomorrow. Get you a cute dress and shoes or whatever.”

“You don’t have to spend money on me, Dongmin.”

“I don’t care. I want to.”

You glanced at Dongmin to see him pouting with his hands in his lap, watching silently as you scrolled through Netflix instead of snatching the remote from your hands and picking a show like he usually would. You sighed and laid your head on his shoulder, feeling his breath stop for a second before he rested his head on top of your own.

Dongmin is your best friend. He’s helped you so much in so many ways, and you genuinely would do anything for him, and you think he’d do the same for you. Ever since you agreed to get fake engaged to him, there was a thought in the back of your mind; “What if this ruins our friendship?” You pushed it aside at first, brushing it off as a stupid anxiety-induced worry. But every day since then, the thought has only grown more and more prominent.

“I’m free after two.”

You could feel the smile in Dongmin’s cheeks and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close as you finally settled on a movie.

God, you hoped you were wrong.

February 14th

“Keep your eyes closed!”

“They are closed.”

“You better not be peeping.”

“This may come as a shock to you, but I actually really do not want to see you naked!”

You were in Dongmin’s bedroom getting ready for his parents' valentine's day party. You’d have gotten ready at your own apartment, but Dongmin had called you over to help him decide on what to wear, so you decided to just bring your clothes with you and get ready there. Which was probably a good idea, because unlike your apartment, Dongmin’s penthouse actually had a full-length mirror and good lighting.

Dongmin had taken you shopping the day before, and despite your protesting, bought you an inordinately expensive, albeit beautiful, blush-pink dress, and a pair of white pumps. They were beautiful, and although you appreciated Dongmin being so willing to spend money on you, you hated knowing the actual number that he was spending.

“Okay, you can look now.”

You waited patiently for Dongmin’s response after he opened his eyes, but he just looked at you with a blank stare. You looked down at yourself, thinking you might have forgotten to zip a zipper, or your dress had gotten stuck somewhere.

“What?”

“No. Nothing. It looks good.” Dongmin cleared his throat and pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly typing something before standing up and leaving the room. “You coming?” He called over his shoulder.

“...Okay…” You said under your breath, grabbing your phone from his vanity and following him out of the room. You felt Dongmin’s eyes on you as you put on your coat, looking up at him with a raised brow, he quickly turned away and busied himself with tying his shoes.

“Okay, let’s go.” Dongmin quickly hurried out the door, leaving you behind in a confused state. You shook your head before turning out the lights, setting the alarm system, and locking the door behind you.

You knew you were in for a long night.

|

“Well, aren’t you two just a beautiful couple!” Dongmin’s mother called the two of you out immediately as you walked through the doors to their impressive home. You were no stranger to the glamour and wealth of the Lee’s life, but it still threw you off to see so many beautiful, wealthy people all in one place. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Lee.” She greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, and her son with a tight embrace. You looked around the room to see some vaguely familiar faces; you recognized Park Jinwoo’s parents conversing with Dongmin’s father, someone by the drinks table who you were pretty sure was named Yoon Sanha, and the three of Dongmin’s friends that you were actually on a first-name basis with, Bin, Myungjun, and Minhyuk, greeted the two of you with a wave from the other side of the room.

“Well, you two have fun! We have food, drinks, desserts, whatever you like!”

“Thanks, mom.” Dongmin took your hand and led you over to his friends, meanwhile, the sudden realization that you hadn’t seen any of these people since long before your fake engagement hit you like a ton of bricks. You could see them smirking at the two of you as you neared. Dongmin felt the shift in your demeanor and he turned to look at you, your face had paled as if all the blood had drained from your face. 

“Just be chill.” He whispered to you as you neared the small group. You gave him a small nod, and quickly plastered a smile back onto your face.

“Hey guys how’s it-” Dongmin was cut off by Myungjun grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a shake.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us that the two of you were even dating! And now you’re engaged!”

“Yeah, man. How could you not tell us?” Minhyuk added on as Bin shook his head in disappointment at the two of you.

“Believe me, it was a surprise for us, too.” You joked as Myungjun turned to you and wrapped his arms around you in a back-breaking hug.

“Well, I’m happy for you two. I think we were just all surprised it took you two this long.” Bin smiled at the two of you as he took a sip of his champagne. You and Dongmin briefly made eye contact before awkwardly smiling at the group.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone’s been saying.” Dongmin slipped his hand back into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You gave him a small smile, trying to give off the best “head-over-heels in love” vibe that you could. You weren’t sure how convincing you were being, but Dongmin always was a good actor. He’d make it work.

At some point in the party, you’d ended up at the drinks table, a champagne flute in your hand as you leaned against the wall, trying to recharge from being bombarded with questions and congratulations from people you’d never met. You weren’t sure where Dongmin had ended up- the last you saw, he’d been taken aside by Minhyuk’s father to talk about some business stuff that you didn’t understand nor particularly care about.

You were content with standing in the corner people-watching before someone you hadn’t spoken to for years sidled up to you.

“Well, don’t you look nice?”

You froze in place when you heard the voice of Park Jinwoo addressing you. You slowly turned your head in his direction. Shit. He looked really good. You’d had a little bit of a crush- no, you’d had a massive crush on him while you were in highschool. He was one of Dongmin’s closest friends back in the day, but you’d only seen him a few times since he’d gotten back from university. You thought he was really cute back then, but he’d really grown into his looks. He’d gotten a little bit taller (at least, he was a little bit taller than you, now), he’d gotten a nice haircut, you could tell he’s been hitting the gym, and from your many late nights staying up late stalking his Instagram, you knew that he’d gotten a few tattoos. And he’s single.

“Oh…Hey, Jinwoo. Nice to see you again.”

“No need to be so formal. We’ve known each other a long time.” Jinwoo stood next to you and leaned on the wall, mirroring your stance. “Congrats on the engagement by the way. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Really?” You scoffed, taking a sip of champagne, “seems like you’re the only one who didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, I was under the impression that you were into someone else until now.”

His statement caused you to choke on your champagne. You cleared your throat and shook your head. Jinwoo stayed silent, simply smirking at you as he took a sip of wine. “Well, I guess you were wrong.”

“Guess so. It’s funny, I was so sure I was right. I mean, it’s not every day someone you haven’t spoken to in years likes one of your four-year-old Instagram posts at three in the morning.”

You were about to refute his accusation before you were cut off by a very welcome interruption. “You two enjoying yourselves?” Dongmin approached the two of you, a glass of champagne in hand, and an indecipherable look on his face. He stood right beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, staring directly at Jinwoo.

“Just fine.” Jinwoo replied with the same smirk as before, taking a sip of wine as he eyed Dongmin. “You two look good together.”

“Yeah. We do.”

The vibe of the room had massively shifted since Dongmin had approached you two. His hand had moved down from your waist to your hip, and he was holding you tighter than ever. Your eyes darted between Jinwoo and Dongmin, waiting for one of them to say something, but they both remained quiet, their eye contact unwavering.

“Well, I’m happy for you two. See you at the wedding.” Jinwoo gave you a quick wink before flashing Dongmin a smirk and walking off into the crowd. You looked up at Dongmin who still had that look on his face. You’d never seen that look before.

“Let’s go.” He said, grabbing your hand and walking in the direction of the front door.

“Go where?”

“Home.”

“Whose home?”

“Mine.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Okay…But maybe we should say goodbye to your parents and friends first?”

Dongmin paused in his tracks, you could see him roll his eyes before nodding in agreement. He dragged you around the house to bid quick goodbyes to his family and friends before he walked the two of you to the foyer, helping you with your coat, and dragging you into his car. He’d driven the two of you there himself, and you were honestly worried that in his current mood, the night was going to end up with the two of you crashing into a tree.

You stayed silent for the first few minutes of the trip, your hands folded in your lap. You’d rarely seen Dongmin so irritated- his hands were tightly gripping the steering feel, and you could practically hear his jaw clenching. You felt like a scolded child the way you were so hesitant to say anything to him.

“Are you okay?”

Dongmin sighed heavily. Glancing over at you, his demeanor melting as he saw you staring at him with that concerned look on your face. His grip on the steering wheel relaxed, and he reached over to hold your left hand in his own, his thumb lightly brushing over your ring finger.

“I’m okay. Just tired, I guess.”

The two of you stayed silent for the rest of the drive to Dongmin’s penthouse. The car was filled with a tense air, even as Dongmin gently held your hand, you couldn’t help but feel you’d done something wrong.

The two of you made your way up to Dongmin’s apartment, turning off the alarm and kicking your shoes off as soon as you were in the door. Without a word, Dongmin went straight to his bedroom, leaving you sighing as you made your way to the guest room. Usually your apartment was the designated hangout spot, Dongmin always said it was more “cozy”, but you’d still stayed over at Dongmin’s enough for you to have a drawer of clothes in his guest room and a toothbrush in the bathroom.

You had been laying in bed for at least an hour at that point. You’d tried to sleep, you really had, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what you could have possibly said to make Dongmin act the way he did. So you resorted to scrolling on your phone to calm your mind, before you heard a light knock on the bedroom door.

You padded over to it, cracking it open to see Dongmin on the other side, nervously shifting his weight between his feet.

“Hey…” He whispered, leaning on the doorway as he looked around the room, doing all he could to not make direct eye contact with you. “I…I guess I wanted to apologize for being a total dickhead tonight.”

“Yeah…You kinda were.”

He smiled at the ground, his eyes still not meeting yours. “Well, I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know. I don’t really have an excuse.”

His eyes finally met yours.

“Are we cool?”

You let out a short laugh and rolled your eyes, poking his arm before responding, “we were always cool.”

He smiled fondly down at you, reaching his arms out, prompting you to lean into him and wrap your arms around his waist, your head comfortably resting on his chest. The two of you stood silently for a minute, his head resting on top of yours. Before pulling away, he gave you a quick peck on top of your head, flashing you a quick smile before taking a step back.

“Goodnight, fiancée.”

“Goodnight, fiance.”

You were friends. Best friends. You always would be. But you were starting to like hearing him call you that.

June 20th

You thought it would be over by now. You thought it would’ve been a few months, a couple family dinners, maybe a fancy corporate party or two, Dongmin’s parents would give him a job in the company, and you could call off your engagement and go back to your normal lives. And yet here you were, six months later. Still engaged- fake engaged. Every time you got together with Dongmin’s family, he’d whisper to you, “I’m sure they’re gonna give the news tonight.” and yet, they never did. And both of your families and all of your friends were still convinced that the two of you were a happy soon-to-be-wed couple. His parents had even spent Easter at your family’s house. It was starting to feel too real.

And now here you were, sitting in a private plane, getting ready to embark on an all expenses paid two week long vacation to Lake Como- where the Lee family apparently owned a large plot of property. Because of course they did. You hadn’t ever realized exactly how wealthy Dongmin’s family was until you’d gotten engaged to him, and you felt more insecure in your own life by the day because of it.

“You want some more champagne?” At the question, you removed one of your earbuds and looked up from the book in your lap to Dongmin, who was sitting across from you, headphones on with his iPad resting on top of the table between the two of you. You shook your head wordlessly, putting the earbud back in place and returning to the book that you honestly couldn’t have relayed the plot of even with a gun to your head.

Planes are so boring.

Dongmin smirked up at you as if he could tell what was on your mind. “Told you you should have brought your laptop.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, flipping to the next page as if you were actually reading. “Why would I want to bring my laptop when I’m going to Italy? I don’t know about you, but I’m intending to actually enjoy myself while we’re there.”

“I don’t think Dongmin could enjoy himself without bringing his iPad.” His younger brother piped up from the seat across the aisle. 

“You’re literally playing Roblox right now.” Dongmin rolled his eyes as he removed his headphones.

“You cannot stop me from grinding on Dress To Impress.”

“You’re like, twenty five.”

“Yeah, and I’m absolutely eating these little kids up.”

“That’s a disturbing sentence.”

“You’re making it weird.”

“Back me up here.” Dongmin addressed you, taking his headphones off and tossing them to the side.

You stuck your tongue out at him before tossing your book in the same direction as his headphones- you’d finally given up on trying to read.

“You’re the worst.” Dongmin sighed.

“You like it.”

“I don’t get you two.”

The two of you quickly turned to Dongmin’s brother, who was still staring at his computer screen, undoubtedly still beefing with middle schoolers on Roblox.

“What do you mean?” Your voice cracked slightly as you asked the question. You could see Dongmin grimacing at it from across the table.

“I mean, you two have been together for like, years at this point. But I’ve never even seen you two kiss.”

“Years-? I mean, yeah. But what’s your point?” Dongmin stumbled over his words, crossing both his legs and arms in a painfully conspicuous fashion.

“I don’t know, it’s just weird. Are you two on some like, hardcore, celibate, not even kissing until you get married shit? I find that hard to believe since you’re like, always at each other's apartments- also like, why don’t you two just move in together? I’ve been to both of your guys’ places, and Dongmin’s is like, way nicer. I don’t know, you guys just aren’t like, a normal couple.”

You were in shock at how hard Dongmin’s brother clocked you. You hadn’t thought of any of that. Why the hell wouldn’t you two have kissed? Normal engaged people kiss. The two of you had never even had your mouths anywhere near each other.

“I’m sorry I haven’t ever made out with my fiancée in front of my little brother. That’s not something I’m into.” Dongmin mused as he picked up his headphones from the floor of the plane, placing them back over his head and resuming his show. You let out a silent sigh of relief at his smooth recovery. 

This was going to become a problem.

June 25th

You hadn't realized that mega yachts were a real thing until this morning when you and the Lee’s packed into the fancy black car that picked you up at their summer home and brought you to the lake, where you were met with the largest boat you’d ever laid eyes on.

After being “confronted” about your strange relationship by Dongmin’s brother on the plane, that same night, you and Dongmin stayed up late in your shared room discussing ways to make your relationship seem more natural.

“Well, we can’t just like, make out in front of your family.” You mused from your side of the ginormous bed in the room that had been assigned to you and Dongmin.

“Normal people don’t make out with each other in front of their families, I don’t think.” He agreed from his side of the bed, “But maybe, we could just like, I don’t know, maybe give each other a little peck on the cheek once in a while. Or call each other stupid pet names like ‘babe’ or ‘sweet cheeks’.”

“If you call me sweet cheeks, I will kill you.”

“No sweet cheeks, then.” Dongmin tossed his phone across the bed and turned to look at you, propping himself up on his elbow. You turned to him with a raised brow, tossing your phone in the same direction.

“What?”

“This is fun.” He smiled up at you, twirling a loose string on the blanket around his finger.

“Is it really?”

“Yeah.” He whispered before turning his back to you and flicking the “off” switch on the lamp on his bedside table. You settled into your pillows and breathed out a heavy sigh. You were having much less fun with this than Dongmin was.

You were currently laying down in a lounge chair on the bow of the yacht in your swimsuit, pretending to watch Dongmin as he repeatedly jumped off the side of the boat and clambered back up, asking you each time to rate his jump and the following splash. Dongmin’s brother was in the chair beside you, arm over his eyes, probably taking a nap. You were going to have to wake him up soon to tell him to reapply his sunscreen.

“Babe, watch this!” Dongmin called out to you, prompting you to look over to him, your hand shielding the sun from your eyes so you could see your fiance’s grinning face as he took a few steps back, dripping water onto the freshly mopped floor. He ran forward and jumped off the boat once again, you could see him lurch forward right before he leapt in what you were sure was a poorly executed attempt at a front-flip.

You grimaced as you heard the splash- you had a feeling that he’d landed face-first. Your suspicions were confirmed as you heard coughing as Dongmin climbed up the side of the boat. As soon as he made it back onto the bow, he walked over to where you were laying, and sat down on the ground next to your chair, laying his head on top of your bare thigh. You patted his back as he continued coughing weakly- trying your hardest to keep from laughing at your friend.

“That was great. Ten out of ten.”

He looked back up at you, a look of pure disdain on his face. “I hate you so much.”

You giggled and ran your hands through his hair. He rolled his eyes at you as he rested his chin on your thigh, closing his eyes as you continued running your fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp in a soothing manner. You were worried that you were laying on the “head-over-heels in love” thing too thick, but your worries were immediately quelled as Dongmin’s mother entered the scene.

“You two are just so sweet.” She giggled as she approached you, tightly gripping her full glass of champagne.

“They’re disgusting.” Dongmin’s brother protested from his spot, finally waking up from his nap. 

“You’re just jealous.” Dongmin teased, discreetly flipping his brother off as his mother settled into her seat on the younger brother’s opposite side.

“You two have been all up in each other’s business since we landed. Is that Italian air really getting to you guys that much? My room’s right next to yours, I’m just glad you two are quiet when you bang.”

You were so sure he was onto you.

“You poor thing.” Dongmin mused as he wrapped his arms around your leg, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

His brother simply rolled his eyes and laid back down, placing his arm back over his eyes. You turned back to Dongmin, who was already looking up at you with a lazy smile. You hated these moments. The moments that made this whole thing feel like a part of it was real. Because why were you here on a yacht in Italy with his family, with his head on your thigh, and a ring on your finger if no part of it was real?

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Dongmin whispered as he stood up. He leaned over and gently put his hand on the side of your face, giving a short, sweet kiss to your forehead before going inside.

You watched as he walked back inside, trying not to lose your mind as you heard his mother drunkenly giggling from behind you.

God, you hated this.

July 5th

It was the night before the end of your vacation in Italy, and you just couldn’t wait to go home.

Sharing a bed with Dongmin every night of the past two weeks had been nothing short of torture. It wasn’t like he’d been all up in your space, and he didn’t snore- actually, he was very quiet and very respectful of the invisible line that you’d drawn in the middle of the bed, sticking exclusively to his side, and keeping all of his clothes on- despite the fact that you knew he usually slept in just his underwear.

But you often found yourself awake into the early hours of the morning just staring at his back, trying to push the random romantic scenarios about your best friend that your brain was making up into the back of your mind. You told yourself that it was all just because of the atmosphere. I mean, what else are you supposed to think when you’re sharing a bed in a romantic villa in Italy? You were just excited to go back home and sleep in your own bed. Alone.

But here you were, sitting out on the balcony that was attached to your room, glass of red wine in hand as you listened to Dongmin ramble on about something that you couldn’t pay attention to- not while the moon was out in full and it just lit up his features so beautifully.

“You know what I’m talking about?” Dongmin turned to you, his eyes scanning over your face that was undoubtedly just staring up at him blankly.

“Not really.” You hummed taking a big sip of your wine, your eyes met his and you immediately looked away, opting to stare out into the beautiful Italian nature instead of at your beautiful best friend’s face.

“You okay?” Dongmin asked softly, nudging your arm much softer than he usually would.

You took an even bigger sip of wine. “I’ll be okay. Just ready to go home, I guess.”

“Yeah…” He sighed, his eyes still on you. “It’s getting pretty late. You ready to go to bed?”

You were going to miss him saying that.

“Yeah.”

You got ready for bed as slowly as possible, dragging the process out as long as you could. You could feel Dongmin’s eyes on you as you slowly brushed your teeth, and again as you were brushing your hair, and again as you exited the bathroom after getting into your pajamas, and again as you climbed into bed.

The two of you laid there in silence in the dark until, simultaneously, you turned to each other. As soon as your eyes met each other, you could feel your eyes welling up. You didn’t want this to be over.

“You sure you’re okay?” Dongmin whispered, shuffling a little bit closer to you. In the moonlight peeking through the curtains, you could see the worried look in his eyes. You nodded quickly, staying still as he reached out to brush your hair out of your face. His fingers lingered over your jawline, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. “You know, I’m really glad that you were able to come on this trip. I think I’d have gone insane without you here.”

“Yeah?” You whispered back, the feeling of his fingers on your jaw causing your mind to struggle to come up with a witty reply.

“Yeah.” He breathed out, moving his hand to stroke his thumb across your cheekbone, brushing away the tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen. “You’re the best fake fiancée I’ve ever had.”

Right. Fake.

“High praise.” You joked, causing Dongmin to flash you a grin that made your heart ache. You loved his smile.

“I love you, you know? You’re my best friend.”

Friend. Friend. You needed to hammer that word into your mind.

“I love you too, Dongmin.”

He ran his thumb over your cheek one last time before leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, bidding you a goodnight, and turning back around- leaving you laying there, staring blankly at his back

You were so screwed.

December 21st

Eleven months. Eleven. Months.

You’d been engaged to your best friend for almost an entire year.

After your trip to Lake Como, things started to become more complicated. Dongmin’s parents had started asking the two of you to set a date and start looking at venues, menus, dresses, suits, flowers, honeymoon destinations, guest lists- you name it. Your acting in Italy had apparently shown them how “in love” you were with each other, and they were eager for the two of you to finally tie the knot. You had been holding them off by telling them that you wanted to wait until the new year for all of that, but they, especially his mother, were all too ready to get involved in the wedding planning.

You’d started hating being engaged to Dongmin. Every time the two of you were alone together, it just reminded you of your last night in Italy. The way he held your face so gently, and the way he wiped away your tear was constantly on your mind.

But you doubted he even noticed the tense air whenever the two of you met up, as he had been sulking since the end of the summer over the fact that his parents still hadn’t offered him a job yet.

But today was the day of his parents Christmas party, and he was so sure that they would offer it to him tonight. You had your doubts.

The two of you were getting ready in Dongmin’s apartment as you usually did for his parents' parties. You were wearing a beautiful forest green satin dress that you'd gotten as a bridesmaid for an old friend, and the same heels that you’d worn when Dongmin had proposed to you almost a year ago. You were waiting in the foyer for Dongmin to come out of his room, tapping your foot as the seconds ticked by.

“Alright, you ready to go?” He asked in a jovial tone as he entered the room, fixing the cuffs of his suit jacket. He looked up at you in anticipation and stopped in his tracks, his hand freezing on his sleeve as his eyes wandered over your form.

You stood there silently for a good few seconds, waiting for him to say something. But he didn’t. “...Yeah?”

His eyes snapped up to your face and he slightly shook his head, dropping his hands from his sleeve. “Right! Okay, let’s go, then.”

He hurriedly turned off the lights and set the alarm before helping you with your jacket, and offering his elbow to you. You gave him a suspicious glare, but he just grinned at you, guiding you downstairs to where his driver was waiting.

|

You were drunk. But you felt the need to be even drunker. The two of you had been at the party for around an hour when Dongmin’s father tapped the side of his champagne glass and made an announcement: He was finally letting Dongmin into the company. At first, you turned to Dongmin ecstatically, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek and hugging him tightly. He’d wanted this for so long.

But then you remembered.

It was over now.

You and Dongmin had agreed in the beginning that you would be engaged only until his parents offered him a job at their company. You’d agreed to this. You knew this was coming. So why were you sitting in an empty room crying into your champagne?

You didn’t look up as you heard the door open, you were assuming that it was a drunk couple looking for some privacy until you heard a familiar voice speak up.

“Any particular reason you’re sitting alone crying into your champagne?” None other than Park Jinwoo asked as he sidled into the room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his beautifully fitting dark blue suit.

You tearfully chuckled, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “You know, I was just asking myself that question.” You looked up at Jinwoo who was leaning on his shoulder against an ornate bookshelf, looking down on you with a placid look on his face.

“Trouble in paradise?” He mused as he dragged his finger down the spine of one of the books.

You scoffed at him, leaning back in your chair as you downed the rest of your champagne in one gulp. “Something like that.”

“That’s a shame…He’s been head over heels for you since high school, so I can’t imagine what could have happened.”

Your eyes snapped up to him, he looked back down at you with a knowing smirk. “What do you mean by that, Jinwoo?”

He shrugged his shoulders casually, as if to brush off your question. “I don’t know. What do you think it means?”

“I’m so not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Fair enough. Should probably be getting back to the party anyway.” He offered a hand to you which you rolled your eyes at before taking, allowing him to help you out of your chair. “You’d better get back to your fiance. It’s not a good idea for a pretty girl to be drunk and alone at a party.”

Jinwoo didn’t let go of your hand until the two of you were out in the hallway. He gave you a one-armed hug, smirking into your ear, “well, speak of the devil.”

You turned to see Dongmin standing at the other end of the hall, staring at the two of you, an undoubtedly shocked expression casted over his face.

“See you later.” Jinwoo turned and gave you a wave over his shoulder, leaving you standing in the hallway, swaying slightly. You shouldn’t have chugged that glass of champagne. But as soon as you started to feel a little too dizzy, Dongmin was by your side, his steady hands holding onto your waist.

You leaned into him with a deep sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. As soon as the side of your face made contact with his chest, you felt your eyes welling up. He gently stroked the back of your head, confused at your demeanor, but wanting to offer whatever comfort he could nonetheless.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head, gently rubbing his nose into your hair. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You choked back a sob as you pressed your face into his chest even harder. “Please don’t call me that.”

His hand went still on the back of your head. “Why?”

You took a shaky breath, bringing your hands to his back, gripping into his suit jacket. “Cause it’s over now. Right?”

Dongmin stayed silent, opting to continue gently stroking your hair instead of responding, letting you cry off your makeup into his expensive suit.

“I think I should take you home.” He said to you softly, gently unwrapping your arms from around his body. You sniffled and feebly attempted to wipe away the tears from your face, not daring to look Dongmin in the eye. You nodded at the ground and allowed him to guide you to the front door and help you put on your coat. 

“Stay here for a second. I’m gonna go say goodbye to my parents.” You nodded gently, staring down at your shoes. You’ve never felt so pathetic in your life.

Dongmin returned a minute later, gently taking your hand and leading you to the car. The two of you sat in silence, Dongmin running his thumb over your knuckles, and you, staring out the window, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were running down your face.

You knew it had to come to an end eventually. You always did. But it still hurt.

The car pulled up to Dongmin’s penthouse, and you mindlessly let Dongmin lead you up to his apartment. Your brain was practically dead at that point. He could have been taking you to an old abandoned house to murder you and you wouldn’t have noticed, nor would you have particularly cared.

You let him help you take off your jacket and heels and lead you to his room. He motioned for you to sit down on his bed, which you did, flopping onto it, laying flat on your back, folding your hands over your stomach in an attempt to soothe its churning. Dongmin sighed as he watched you lay down, taking off his suit jacket, shoes, and tie, and sitting down next to you.

“Do you want the ring back?” Your voice cracked as you asked the question, your eyes threatening to shed even more tears. Dongmin sighed as he leaned back, laying down next to you.

“No. I bought it for you.”

Your lips trembled at his words, you quickly wiped away the tears that had started to spill. “I don’t want this to be over.” You finally choked out, your hand covering your mouth to stifle your sobs.

“I know.” Dongmin replied gently, reaching over to wrap his arm under you, prompting you to roll over and dig your face into his chest. “It’s okay.” He whispered as you cried into him. “You’re just drunk. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“No, I won’t.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”

Dongmin held you tighter at those words, his brow furrowing as you said it. “You’re not going to lose me, baby.”

“I just want to stay with you.”

“We’ll always be together.”

“It’s going to be different now.” Your tear ducts had finally run dry. You just felt defeated now. Dongmin still held you just as tight as before, one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Yes, it does.”

This time it was Dongmin’s turn to cry. Yet, he smiled. “I love you.”

“God, don’t say that to me.” You sighed into his neck, rubbing your sore eyes as tears continued to run down Dongmin’s face.

“No, but it’s true. I love you so much.”

You pulled away, he was starting to confuse you. You propped yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him. Your confusion grew as you saw him smiling up at you through his tears. “What are you talking about?”

Dongmin leaned up and reached for your face, holding it in the same way he had during that night in Italy, his fingers on your jawline and his thumb stroking your cheek. “I don’t want this to be over, either.”

“...Are you drunk?”

He grinned up at you and brought his other hand to your cheek, looking at you with a kind of fondness you’d never seen on his face before. “Definitely not. I just love you.”

“Dongmin, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that a few times.” You replied, sitting up fully, Dongmin following you, still holding your face. “But what do you mean?”

Dongmin gently smiled down at you, one of his hands trailing down from your face to take your left hand, gently sliding the ring off your finger. Your heart dropped as he did so, tears once more threatening to start spilling from your eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, you completely froze in place as Dongmin slid off the bed and onto the floor, kneeling in front of you, still holding your left hand in his gentle grip.

“..Huh?”

He chuckled at you fondly, his eyes filled with nothing but adoration, and love spread across his face.

“I want to marry you. For real.” His eyes and smile softened as you stared down at him in shock, “At the start of this, I really did just see this me asking you for a favor. I really thought that at the end of this, we would call off the engagement, and go about our lives as normal. I didn’t expect this to go on this long, and I never expected to realize that I was in love with my best friend, but I did. I think I realized it for the first time in Italy. I loved going to sleep next to you every night and waking up next to you every morning, I loved seeing you with my parents and my brother, I loved sitting on the balcony drinking wine with you, I just loved spending every minute of every day with you. And it made me realize that I love you. As more than a friend. And I think I always have.”

He shifted in his spot on the floor, nervously looking up at your confused stare. He really hoped he wasn’t making a mistake by telling you right now.

“It made me realize that I wished this was for real. So, do you want to make it real?”

Just as he was starting to think that he was making a massive mistake by confessing his love to his best friend, you quickly slid off the bed onto the floor, and hugged him tightly, causing him to fall backwards onto the carpet.

“God, I love you so much.” You whispered into his neck, holding him tighter than you’d ever held anyone. He was smiling so hard, he was sure his face could have gotten stuck that way. He hugged you back just as tightly before pulling back and grabbing your face, causing your eyes to meet his.

“So is that a yes?”

“Obviously. Yes!”

Dongmin grabbed your left hand, sliding the ring back onto your finger before his hands quickly went up to the sides of your face and his lips collided with yours. Your hands gripped the back of his shirt as your lips moved against his, fighting back the happy tears that welled in your eyes.

Dongmin pulled back for breath, breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against yours. He opened his eyes and met yours, “I love you.”

“I know.”

the two of you giggled quietly before your lips met again.

December 22nd

You woke the next morning in Dongmin’s bed, your dress and his suit lay wrinkled on the floor. You groaned into the pillow and turned to your side, almost jumping as you were met with the face of your fiance sleeping soundly next to you.

You smiled softly, brushing his soft hair out of his face, admiring his features in the early morning light.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, reaching up in confusion to grab your hand that was lightly grazing his face. He smiled warmly and leaned into your hand as soon as he realized it was you. “Good morning.” He groaned, his deep morning voice causing your stomach to flutter.

“Good morning.” You replied gently, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He looked up at you softly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand before slowly sitting up and tossing back the blankets.

“How about I make us some pancakes?” He called over his shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom.

“Sounds good.” You stretched and sat up as Dongmin turned on the shower in the other room.

“You coming?” He called out, you smiled and shimmied out from the blankets, your feet meeting the soft carpet on the floor.

“Just a second!”

You could get used to this.

[marshmallowprotection]

"What do you have there, Saeran?"

Saeran glanced over his shoulder to meet your gaze. He wasn't trying to go out of his way to hide what he was doing, which was a good sign, after all! It was a difficult transition to go from hiding something that had remotely anything to do with things that deviated from Mint Eye's goals to being allowed to enjoy his hobbies without a hammer being held above his head.

He knew you would never judge him for what he enjoyed, but he was still learning what he wanted to do with his time. It... was easier for Ray. Ray had begun to cultivate a garden in a small plot of your backyard. He started out a lot smaller despite the plans you'd seen in his journal if only because... he only had so much space to work with.

However, it gave him something to do in his free time and it kept his hands busy. Ray had a difficult time relaxing, and you knew that it wasn't that different for Saeran. He needed to do something. He couldn't sit still. They both didn't know how to catch their breath and let the moment play itself out. The therapist had advised them to take it easy, to build up their new hobbies without turning them into a big task like their previous job had done, but the idea of "taking things nice and easy" wasn't in their vocabulary.

So, to see him working on something made you happy, but you sought him out to make sure that he hadn't forgotten to take care of his needs. He needed to take longer breaks, drink some water, have a nice snack, lean his head back and relax his shoulders, and most of all, enjoy himself.

"A caterpillar habitat," he explained. "I noticed Ray's distress over a few eaten flower petals... and decided to investigate what creature had lunch in his garden. He doesn't want to hurt a little bug, but he doesn't want them to eat all of his flowers, either. I can't imagine I would be all that happy if somebody took me away from such a nice meal, so, I figure I should do something for the caterpillar."

A smile danced across your face as you realized his intention. Even after the fear Saeran had expressed to you about what he thought of himself compared to Ray, you couldn't see where he could've gotten that idea other than Rika. He feared that he was nothing but destruction, a hollow shell filled with nothing but anger, but here he was, with a pair of tender hands, taking care of a small bug that most people would simply smush to be rid of their "problem".

Not just because he wanted to look after Ray, but because he empathized with the creature who'd done nothing wrong.

He and Ray used to compare themselves to bugs, "we're insignificant, worthless, take up space, and better off dead". Saeran had only recently told you that they didn't view bugs like that... and the only reason why he ever said those words was... because they were insults hurled at him as a little boy. Those cruel words cut deep into his tender chest, into Ray's chest too, but they never thought to insult bugs or hate them for it.

How could they?

The bug had committed no crime, it merely existed. It was no different than how they never committed any crime by being born and... no one should have made them feel otherwise.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," you eventually said. "Have you been doing research on what they like best?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It turns out there's a lot of material you can read on the subject online. I think... I've figured out the best environment for this little guy, though. I didn't want to get it wrong, so I made sure what I found was... more or less safe for his specific family. It's tricky to get it just right, apparently. It's so "simple" that you can miss it."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"...Can you grab some twigs from the garden?"

"Of course! We'll make the best home for your caterpillar friend."

[apocalypseornaw]

Real or Not (Pt 1/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

When Dean starts mentioning his ex it makes you start doubting how stable your relationship is

@lacilou s idea

You were half asleep, curled up to Dean's chest. His fingers were slowly tracing patterns on your bare back as he sung along with whatever was playing on the radio, the light rumble of his voice was nearly lulling you back to sleep. The bed was warm and soft, his body against yours was an added warmth and comfort. You'd known the boys most of your life, the perks of hunting but you and Dean was a development that had just happened a few years before.

Him and Sam had discovered the men of letters bunker and as a byproduct had extended an invitation for you to use one of the many extra bedrooms. You weren't sure how the line between friends and lovers was crossed between you and Dean.

The first time you saw a spark of what could be was when a guy had gotten handsy with you in a bar after a hunt. You were sore after all three of you had gotten tossed around, the bruising on your side was already multiple shades of purple. You'd left the boys to go to the bathroom and hadn't noticed a guy watching you.

When you walked out the bathroom he'd grabbed you rather roughly. Any other time you would've kicked his ass with no problem but his fingertips had dug into the bruise forcing the air out of your lungs and a gasp of pain to escape your lips. "Hey asshole" You heard Dean's voice a half a second before the guy was ripped off of you.

You watched as Dean hit him and felt some sense of vindication when the guy went down but when Dean moved to hit him again you grabbed his arm, the bouncer was headed your way and not to mention you knew Dean.

He was strong enough to take down monsters on the daily, if he went off on this drunken asshole he could kill him. The anger in his eyes quickly dissolved when he realized it was your hand on him "Sweetheart he hurt you" you smiled slightly "I've had worse dee. You probably broke his jaw as is. Let the bouncer handle it, let's grab Sam and head back to the motel"

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

From that day on any time the three of you went out Dean would stand outside the bathroom and wait on you. You'd felt guilty for a while that his chances of hooking up was cut down extremely by every woman in the bar seeing him waiting on you but when you'd finally brought it up to him he'd simply said "You're more important to me"

The first time Dean kissed you was late one night. You and him had been dancing around feelings for each other for a while.

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

You'd been in your room, laid across the bed listening to music when he'd knocked on your door. "Come in!" You called out turning to sit up instead of being sprawled out. Dean walked in and a smile pulled onto his face "Were you asleep?" Your eyes widened when you realized how your hair probably looked. Not that he hadn't seen you at a worse time but nonetheless you smoothed a hand over your hair "No, was just listening to music" he nodded slowly but you could tell he hadn't just come to your door to see what you were up to. "Something wrong Dee?"

He motioned down the hall "There's a um meteor shower tonight. Sam told me about it, I know you like that kind of thing and there's a few clearings not far from here if you wanna take a little ride?"

You nodded "Yeah let me get my boots on and grab a hoodie" the smile he gave you made your heart flip "Take your time sweetheart"

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

About half an hour later you were laying across baby's hood next to Dean, watching the night sky. His hand found your leg, squeezing gently before he sat up "Y/N, can we talk?" You sat up too and took his offered hand to get off the impala. Once you were both standing he gave you one of those smiles that made your knees weak "Can I just kiss you and stop this dancing around? I know how I feel about you and I'm fairly certain how you feel about me"

"I'd like that" you admitted and next thing you knew his lips were on yours. Kissing Dean was better than you'd ever imagined and you'd imagined it plenty. The way he made you feel from just a kiss was dizzying. When he pulled away he slid his arms around your waist pulling you even closer "I could get used to doing that" you laughed "I could get used to you doing that"

The two of you had ended up watching the sun come up before going back to the bunker. You'd never admit under threat of torture but you were half in love with him then.

You felt his fingers hesitate just a moment before he said "I know you're awake" you cut your eyes up to see green eyes watching you closely. You smiled "I was enjoying the song" he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips but when his hands moved to your hips rolling you over on top of him the kiss deepened. When you had to move away from each other to catch your breath he grinned at you "If I get that for a song what do I get for a few?" You raised an eyebrow rolling your hips down against his which made him choke out a groan "I'm sure we can come to an agreement"

Yeah you'd never admit it but you were head over heels for the eldest Winchester.

You were moving through the bunker, humming to yourself. You'd just gotten through with laundry and was headed to see if Sam needed help with research.

You were almost to the library when you heard Dean and Sam both laughing. The sound warmed your heart, they rarely genuinely laughed. "Man you remember how Mila lost the cop that was chasing her, met us back at Bobby's and cooked breakfast" Sam said and you felt yourself falter.

Sam was one of your closest friends and yeah him and Dean had hunted close with Camila for a while especially while her and Dean were a thing but as far as you knew they hadn't talked to her in a while. Why were they reminiscing about Dean's ex? Your stomach dropped to your feet when Dean's voice was the next to say "Mila has always been a force of nature"

You knew when it came to these two your poker face was shit so you stopped dead in your tracks unsure what to do next. When they started into another story starring none other than Camila Paulso you spun on your heel and headed for the garage. You hadn't realized you were crying until your vision went blurry.

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

This wasn't like you. You weren't the overly jealous type and getting this upset over something so trivial as them reminiscing? Because you had fallen in love with Dean and honestly had no clue if he felt the same. Every insecurity you felt from when you first got with Dean came rushing back. Every little voice that said you weren't his type, that you weren't good enough for him, that he'd never love you blared through your head.

You walked over to one of the older cars you always liked and sat down next to it, forcing yourself to calm down. They were just talking. Maybe you needed a break, you could go visit Jody and the girls. A few minutes passed before your phone went off with a text from Dean "Where are you at?"

You pushed yourself to your feet, checking your reflection in the window of the car before texting back "Garage" you needed to get a grip. Dean wasn't the type to not say what he wanted. He was with you, that counted for something right?

About the time you heard his voice ring through the garage calling your name a small whisper flashed through your head saying "What if he's passing time until he can get her back?"

Why the hell was your own brain working so hard against you?

@lacilou

[hollybell51]

If I don't have you

Navigation

Ethan Hunt x AFAB!Reader

Mission Impossible (around MI3)

Word count: 6.6K

Summary: your mind won't let go of a close call, or all the things that remain unsaid between you and Ethan.

Content: gratuitous smut, angst, light blood/wounds (canon typical), swearing, angst with a happy ending, some mildly dubious moments (ie., sneaking into people's beds), but there's explicit consent so dw about that. Friends to lovers, first kisses (like between people), oral (f receiving), handjobs, making out, missionary, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk, sappy love confessions (I'm a sap myself, give me a break). I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: hey guys I'm back with another terrible title and porn nobody asked for! I've recently been consumed by Mission Impossible and was devastated by the lack of Ethan Hunt content, and I may or may not be starting down the Tom Cruise rabbit hole, so I did the natural thing and wrote some good old smut. This man makes me absolutely feral in every film (sixty fucking one and he's still got it! What the fuck!) but the long hair really gets me (you all know this already) so I chose to go with somewhere around the MI3 mark. I'm also somehow convinced that he just gets hotter with each film but that's another issue.

Mandatory disclaimer, I don't really care what Tom Cruise does in his own free time with his money and energy but I personally don't fuck with scientology, so yeah. Anyways, enjoy!

The door to the hotel room banged shut behind you, loud and sudden in the cool stillness of the evening. Your face felt hot, and not just because of the heat outside or the fact that you’d just effectively undertaken a high-speed parkour course, blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding. 

“What the hell, Ethan?” you hissed as you spun to face him, jerking your arm out of his grip. 

He ignored you, stepping closer in the narrow entryway. “Are you hurt?” 

Were you hurt? God, it never failed to amaze you just how little regard this man had for his own safety. First he’d quite literally jumped off the roof of a building (albeit a low building, and he’d slid down the tented roof of one of the market stalls first), then raced head-first into what had nearly ended up an all-out fire fight, despite you and Luther both yelling across the comms at him to stop, go around and cut them off! Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t listened. 

“That was fucking insane!” you burst. 

“Are you ok?” 

You were being pursued, first at a walk and then a run. Ethan had seen, you’d told him and Luther both over the comms, and had been receiving directions from the latter. But there were three men chasing you – working for the man you were stalking, most likely, although you weren’t sure – and the streets were unfamiliar, the heat of the evening oppressive, the crush of bodies at the market stifling and the air dusty and thick. You knew, even as your feet pounded on the uneven ground, that you were not going to outlast these men – locals, larger and more numerous than you. 

“You’re fucking insane, you know that?” 

Ethan had barrelled into you from the side just as the first gunshot had gone off, rolling with a grunt and a curse over some poor stallholder’s display and behind a wall of crates. The rush of relief his presence unfailingly conjured was short-lived as he dragged you to your feet, a quick “alright?” and that goddamn movie-star grin before he was pushing you out from behind the makeshift shelter and back into the crowd. You hadn’t even noticed the substantial tear in his shirt or the rough hatching of a graze high on his cheek until you’d been leaning against a wall, panting and a little shaky, but alive and free of your pursuers. 

You’d almost ripped him a (another) new one then and there, but then he’d shaken his head at you and held up his hand, panting, “let’s just get back,” before you could even open your mouth. So you’d held your tongue. Until you’d gotten back. 

Now, both his hands were on your shoulders, firm and warm, holding you still. “(Y/N),” he was saying, his eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” you sighed after a moment, half tempted to jerk out of his grasp again. You didn’t. “I’m fine. Are you?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded, his hands sliding down to grip your arms. The graze wasn’t too bad up close, but as your eyes flicked to the cut on his arm, your anger reared its head again. God, if that had been twenty centimetres to the right…

“No you’re fuckin not,” you said, breathing deeply. It was late, and you didn’t want to disturb anyone more than you already had. “Let me see that.” 

His hands dropped from you altogether, and he stepped back. “It’s fine, (Y/N), just a graze.” 

“A bullet graze!” 

“It’s fine.” 

You shook your head, closing what little distance had opened up between you to point your finger into his chest. “Don’t ever pull shit like that again.” 

“No promises,” he shrugged.

Jesus fucking Christ! You had half a mind to grab his gun off him and finish the job right there, see how fine he’d be with his brains blown onto the wall behind him. Even then he’d brush it off as a bruise, maybe a light concussion. You swallowed. “Ethan, you could have been killed !” 

“But I wasn’t. All that matters is that you’re alright.” He’d taken your hand, folding your accusing finger back towards your palm gently – so gently it made your heart ache – and enclosing your fist in his much larger one. Your stupid, traitorous stomach did a flip to rival his acrobatics. 

“No,” you gritted, “that’s not all that matters! You fucking–” matter. You matter to me. You pressed your lips firmly together, the words boiling in the back of your throat, spiralling into a hard, painful lump. You matter, Ethan, more than any fucking mission. None of it would mean shit if you didn’t make it, if I didn’t have you. You matter and I fucking love you, you idiot!

He was looking at you oddly, you realised, the silence hanging between you so thickly you’d need a damn chainsaw to cut it. His hand still cradled yours, but as you watched, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and the ready-for-anything gleam you were so painfully familiar with faded from his eyes. 

You both turned as someone – Luther – cleared his throat, a sharp silhouette against the glow of twilight through the window behind him. 

“Are you alright?” your friend asked, looking between the two of you. 

“Yeah,” you huffed, pulling back and running both your now-free hands through your hair. 

“Ethan?” 

“Yeah.” 

Another silence, though less tense. 

“Taking a shower,” you muttered, feeling your own body slouch as the adrenaline drained from you. You were sweaty, hot, dusty, shaky and too strung out for any more of this shit. Nobody stopped you as you trudged past first Ethan, then Luther, down the narrow hallway and into the small hotel bathroom. You thought you could hear Luther’s rumbling voice over the stream of shower water, Ethan’s higher-pitched response, but couldn’t make out any words. Maybe that was for the better.

In your dream, Ethan wasn’t fine. In your dream, he hadn’t moved as fast and wasn’t stumbling to his feet, pulling you with him. In your dream, he went down and stayed down, breath coming fast and short, and instead of a rip in his sleeve there was a dark stain spreading over his chest. 

“Ethan?” you said, watching yourself scramble across the rough dirt of the street to his side, your hands flitting uselessly over his torso. 

He cursed, taking your hand as he had so many times before, big and warm and more comforting than it had any right to be. “You alright?” he asked, teeth gritted. 

“Yeah, fine. Fuck, Ethan hold on–” 

“No, (Y/N)–” 

“Hold on , dammit!” It was amazing how viscerally you could feel the pain, sharp and hot like a gunshot wound of your own. You fumbled at your pockets with one hand, pressing down on his chest with the other, but your phone was nowhere to be found. When you shouted for an ambulance or help or anything at all, nobody was listening. The market bustled on around you, the people no more real than shadows on a wall. 

Ethan was saying your name again, his blood hot and wet against your palm. Too much, too much too fast. 

“All that matters is that you’re alright,” he was telling you, and half your mind was seeing him as he had been in the hallway – serious, sweaty, patch of pink skin over his cheekbone hatched with where the dirt had caught and cut it as he’d rolled. 

In your dream, you told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, words spilling from you in a sick waterfall. “You matter, Ethan. You matter to me, I love you, do you know how much you matter to me?” 

You’d seen people die before. It was part and parcel of your job, so you knew what it looked like. This was no different. Ethan’s eyes were hazy, unfocussed, and he was too pale. There was a light sheen of sweat beading his face and neck. His chest was soaked with his blood and your hands were slick with it. His fingers were loosening around your own. 

“Ethan?” you asked, your own grip slackening as his head lolled. “Ethan, come on, just hold on–” 

No one’s coming. 

“Hold on, Ethan. Don’t go. Don’t go, I can’t do this without you.” 

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. 

“Please, just– listen to me. You don’t know. You have no idea how much you matter to me, how much I need you. Ethan, come on, I love you!” 

In your dream, Ethan was dead and you woke shivering despite the warmth of the room. You lay stock-still, counting to ten again and again until your breathing finally slowed and your heart rate returned to normal. You wriggled down under the sheet you’d draped over yourself, curling inwards and wishing for something more substantial than the loose t-shirt – once Ethan’s – and your underwear. 

You’d watched Ethan die a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. Nobody would ever torture it out of you, but these – when he didn’t know, when it was too late before you told him ��� were the worst. It left you with a sick feeling in your gut, a hollow emptiness in your chest where your heart and lungs should have been, and limbs so heavy you were always surprised you managed to get up the next morning. And, of course, the inevitable wave of loathing at how fucking pathetic you were dreaming about telling your partner – friend , probably your best friend, because you were long past being coworkers – that you loved him. 

You sighed, turning over. It was close to the full moon, the open window casting a rectangle of silver over the lump that was your legs, the light breeze moving the curtains gently. You could get up and close it. You should. 

You’d been too pissed off and tired after your shower to do much more than grunt thanks to Luther when he handed you a cold doner kebab, eat it, then fall onto your bed and close your eyes. Usually, you’d have forced Ethan to take a shower too, waited until he emerged in fresh clothes and smelling like cheap soap, hair damp and curling around his ears, and patted the spot on the couch or bed or floor beside you. He’d always roll his eyes but sit anyway, and he’d stay sitting as you cleaned and dressed – sometimes stitched – whatever injuries he’d acquired with only minimal complaining. He’d give you the same treatment afterwards. 

You hadn’t done any of that before, and now you missed the little ritual. You’d been mentally cataloguing the first aid kit for antiseptic cream, bandages, wound pads, suture needles and sterile thread as soon as it had even clocked in your mind that he had more than just the graze to his cheek, the uncomfortable weight of your dream growing heavier with the realisation that you’d left it all to him. And Luther, you supposed. 

It was such a little thing, but in the moment it seemed to loom over you, blocking out the moon’s rectangle. 

You sighed again, your feet hitting the floor before you’d even fully realised that you were getting up. 2.28 AM glowed sickly green from the digital clock on the nightstand. Maybe if you hadn’t had that specific dream, you thought, you would have given this more consideration. Turned over and closed your eyes, decided to wait until morning proper, dismissed your guilt and concern as remnants of a stressful evening. But you had had that dream, and now that you’d eased the door open and were slipping down the hallway towards the room Ethan occupied, there was no way you could have turned back. 

His door was ajar, and didn’t squeal or protest when you eased it open. The set-up, like most hotel bedrooms, was exactly the same as your own. Cupboard on one wall (open, with a duffle bag resting half in and half out of it), dresser next to the door (two guns and a few spare magazines next to them), and a double bed by the window. The orientation of the room meant that the moonlight fell on the floor instead of the bed, but you could still clearly make out Ethan’s prone form, sheet wrinkled and twisted under him, one arm dangling over the side of the mattress, a few strands of hair over his face fluttering with each breath. 

You’d seen him asleep before, of course you had. There hadn’t always been hotel rooms with two bedrooms and a pull-out couch to rotate through, nice as that was. There hadn’t even always been separate beds or mattresses – or any at all. Sometimes you ended up side by side in a queen that was supposed to be two singles, slumped on top of him in the back of a van or on a rooftop, curled against his back in a sleeping bag that was only really meant for one person. You didn’t mind, not really, but seeing him like that – totally relaxed, peaceful – tugged at something deep inside you. 

You hesitated, one hand on the doorframe, shivering once more in the breeze from his open window. The curtains billowed inwards, floated suspended for a moment, then receded back to brush at the thick sill. The bed rustled as Ethan turned over, and you froze. He’d said something, you thought he’d said something that sounded like your name. Then he did it again, and you were sure. 

“(Y/N).” 

You crossed the room silently, kneeling then lying smoothly on the bed and against his back like you were made to fit there. He hummed softly as your arm slid over his ribs, your fingers splayed over his heart. Still beating, strong and even and alive. 

He sighed, shifting ever so slightly back towards you, his own hand finding yours, larger fingers lacing with your own. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. The dressing on his arm where the bullet had clipped him seemed to glow, taunting you. He did this himself, it said. You left, he almost took a fucking bullet for you and you didn’t even fix it for him .

The slow expansion and contraction of his torso paused for a moment. Neither of you were heavy sleepers, your job had seen to that. “(Y/N)?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. 

Everything. “Yelling at you. I just…” You paused, no longer cold in the shadow of your dream, but still aware of its presence. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt.” 

There was a beat of silence, then he was turning over again to face you, his hand slipping from your own to run up over your forearm, your elbow, your upper arm, catching momentarily on the sleeve of your shirt before coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re here,” he whispered. “Thought I was dreaming…” 

You smiled, reaching out to run your fingers around the neck of his wifebeater singlet. Even just waking up, he looked good in the damn thing. “You were.” 

He frowned, the patch of rough red hashing standing out in the silvery dimness. Up this close, you could see every minute crease between his brows that hadn’t been there a minute ago, every tiny line of tension around his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked. 

 You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I felt bad.” I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help you and I couldn’t tell you, and you still don’t know. 

“For yelling at me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t wanna see you get hurt, either. That’s–” 

“All that matters. You said.” 

You were at a crossroads. You felt it as if someone had infused your every cell with the knowledge that you had two options, and you could only take one, and it would change things. How, you weren’t sure, but the sticky warmth of Ethan’s blood between your fingers and the rough dirt digging into your knees still made your skin tingle. 

“You’re wrong,” you continued. “That’s not all that matters.” 

The frown deepened. “Hm?” 

“You matter, Ethan. To me. If I don’t have you…” You shrugged, once again counting your breaths. How was it that you were more highly strung now than you had been while you were quite literally being chased through a market and shot at? It was so far away now, a distant memory of someone else. This, here, the gap barely wider than ten centimetres between your face and Ethan’s, the warm air and the pale moonlight, the warmer weight of his hand still on your shoulder… That was real. 

But bravery – a strange word, you realised, even as you had the thought – only went so far. “Don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” you finished lamely. 

He knew it wasn’t what you’d been going to say, that it barely went half way to getting across what you wanted to. But still, he just smiled and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You won’t ever have to find out.” 

Maybe you weren’t really awake. Maybe you’d wandered into his dream instead of his room, or maybe (and more likely) he’d found his way into yours. Maybe you really had turned over and gone back to sleep instead of padding down the hall and sliding in next to him, and this was your mind’s way of apologising to you for the earlier horror show. It must be, you reasoned, because somewhere you’d ended up pressed against his front – something that hadn’t happened before; you always found yourself curled around him from behind. Your skin felt like it was on fire as his hand slid across your collar, up your neck to rest on your cheek. 

The kiss, when it came, hardly registered as something new. After all, how many times had this played out in your mind? How many times had you wondered what it would be like to move those last few centimetres, lean across that last gap, shove the two of you over that line like he’d shoved you out of the way of that bullet. It was an extension of where you were right now, of where you’d been for the last however long, of where you’d somehow known you were eventually going to end up. 

He was as gentle with you as he’d always been, soft and so painfully careful. He held you like you might break, as if you were something precious and delicate, his hand warm where he cradled your face. You felt the last sticky residue of tension and fear drain from your body as you slid the hand that had been resting on his chest down, over his ribs, around his back, pressing between his shoulder blades. 

“Ethan,” you whispered as he pulled away, still close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. You weren’t shivering anymore. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he replied, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face. 

You smiled, every cell in your body tingling with warmth. “So’re you.” 

“Mm-mm,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Not like you. You have no idea how beautiful you are.” 

There wasn’t much your kiss-addled, Ethan-filled brain could say to that. You closed the gap once more, his mouth impossibly soft, the faint hint of his toothpaste clinging to his tongue when it slid against your own. Someone – you or him, you weren’t sure – made a tiny noise somewhere in the realm of a sigh as you shifted even closer to him, hooking your leg over his. 

He was almost on top of you now, leaning over you, suspended carefully on one arm. You’d been here before, pressed into the floor of wherever you were sparring, sweaty and determined to do whatever it took to gain the upper hand again. Secretly, though, you’d wondered what that would feel like like this, and now you wondered if he had, too. 

Just as you had all those other times, you pushed your hips up off the mattress and flipped him smoothly. He huffed as you straddled him, blinking up at you in surprise before a smile spread over his face and he sat up, kissing you once more, his hands settling on your hips. You were half aware of your body curving towards his as your hands tangled in his hair, the rapid deterioration of your kisses into something that probably wouldn’t fit the word under any stringent definition. 

“Can I?” he asked, fingers flitting around the hem of your shirt. 

You just nodded, pulling the garment over your head quicker than you ever had before and casting it aside. If Ethan recognised it, he didn’t say anything. 

“You too,” you whispered when he didn’t show any signs of copying you, pulling at the thin cotton of his own shirt. 

“Huh?” 

“Shirt, dummy,” you smiled. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.” 

“All’s fair in love and war.” 

Love. Your heart sped up at the word. This could be love. Or war, you supposed.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” you said, wrinkling your nose. 

“Sure it is,” he shrugged. But his hands were at the hem of the stupid thing, and before you could say anything else he was easing it over his head – mindful of his arm – and tossing it to join yours. “Fair now?” 

“Yeah.” You’d seen him without a shirt before. Changing in the back of a van, bandaging a cracked rib or disinfecting a patch of tiny cuts where he’d rolled through broken glass (which happened far too frequently, in your opinion), passing him on his way out of the bathroom. Every time made your stomach flip over and your mind race, but you’d never been able to touch him like this before; run your hands down over his shoulders and arms, across his stomach, up again over his chest, around his ribcage, down the curve of his spine. 

He was in the same boat, you supposed, smiling as his hand slid appreciatively up your side, thumb skimming the soft underside of your breast. You moaned as he bent to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking at the flesh over your jugular and where your neck met your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin occasionally, tongue soothing the blossoming marks left behind. 

“Can I ask you something?” you sighed as he mouthed at the hollow of your collar bone. 

“Yeah.” 

“You said my name before. Were you dreaming about me?” 

Again, “Yeah.” 

You smiled. “What about me?” 

“That you were here.” He broke away from your skin, stretching to place a soft kiss on your lips. “And you were safe.” 

“Well I am.” There was more to it, you could feel it. 

“You are.” Another kiss, almost chaste in its brevity. 

“What else?” you asked. 

He paused, hesitant, then, “You had your legs around my neck.” 

Oh. Oh. 

“Fuck, Ethan,” you whispered. That image wasn’t a new one. The fact that he dreamed about you was news enough, but that… That sent a veritable deluge of heat and desire down through your body, pooling wetly between your thighs. You had to consciously stop yourself from grinding on him right then and there.  

You wouldn’t have been able to, anyway. He was pushing you backwards now, his kisses trailing down over your sternum, between your breasts – he paused here to mouth at one, kneading the other gently, making you moan again – and on to your stomach. He slowed when he reached the waistband of your underwear, kissing across the bridge between your hip bones, leaving you a belt of faint hickeys. 

“Can–” 

“Yes,” you answered.

He looked up at you from where he’d slid between your legs, one hand on your hip and the other pushing at your thigh. His hair hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes (you’d been trying to get him to let you trim it for weeks now), lips pink and kiss-swollen and so pretty. “Ok,” he smiled, pulling your underwear down over your legs shockingly easily, considering they were still wrapped around his waist. You cursed softly as he bent his head again, kissing the inside of your thigh. 

“Wondered what this’d be like,” he whispered, sucking at a spot beside it.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, your hand sliding down to rest on his head, fingers carding through his hair. 

He hummed softly into your skin. “What you’d taste like.” 

You cursed again as he licked over the mark, fingers skirting where you wanted him most, your skin on fire with every kiss.

“What you’d sound like.”

You pressed your lips together firmly, stifling any sound as he slid a finger over your wetness. You raised your head, meeting his eyes directly. “Do you wanna find out?” 

“Yes,” he breathed. His breath hitched in his chest, and there was that perfect movie-star grin. “Fuck, yes.” 

You opened your mouth to say something to that, but before the words had formed in your mind Ethan was licking up your cunt and the only thing that came out of your mouth was an embarrassingly loud moan. You felt him smile, his own soft noise of pleasure muffled against your flesh as he licked again, then sucked determinedly at your clit. 

“Oh, fuck , Ethan–” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, legs locked around his shoulders. 

“Hm?” 

“That’s fucking– You’re– Holy shit that’s good.” 

Ethan just grinned again, his tongue flicking over you, one finger circling your entrance. A suggestion. “Is this alright?” 

You nodded frantically, pressing your lips together as he pushed it inside you. “Yes,” you whined as he licked you again, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress as the hand not gripping his hair twisted in the sheets. He groaned softly, the sound reverberating over you as he sucked your clit, his finger working your hole. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–” you panted, practically grinding on his face. 

A soft hum, then he was adding a second finger, lapping up everything you were giving him as you squirmed , your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could feel the orgasm coming now, coiling in your stomach like a spring, hot and tight and Ethan was the one building it up. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his tongue and lips, every little grunt or hum, and his free hand gripping your thigh like a vice. You hoped you’d have bruises. 

“Oh, oh, Ethan, oh my God–” 

Close, you were so damn close. You were aware of your hips jutting up against his face, and the tiny part of your brain that wasn’t consumed with pleasure and want might have felt bad. 

“I’m gonna– fuck – holy shit , Ethan– Ethan I’m gonna–” 

Then everything was crashing around you and you were crying his name, your legs spasming and your spine arching, electricity fizzing through you. Ethan continued fucking you with his hand, slower and gentler now, his mouth soft on your sensitive clit. Maybe it was gradual, maybe not, but eventually your body transitioned from roiling static to a gentle buzz and your grip on his hair slackened, your legs relaxing around his shoulders. 

He sat calmly between your legs, licking his fingers. The entire lower half of his face shone silver in the moonlight with your slick, his lips pink and swollen, eyes fixed keenly on you. You thought if he looked at you like that a second longer, you were going to cum all over again. 

You smiled at him, your hand finding his where it still rested on your hip. Gently (though maybe it was because your limbs still felt so heavy and floppy), you pulled him up the bed and down on top of yourself, stretching up to kiss him hard. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue when it slid into your mouth, and his hand on your skin was slightly sticky. It slid around your waist, pushing against the small of your back, pressing your chest to his. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to get enough of it.

You whispered his name against his lips, your own hands settled firmly around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The fabric of his underwear – why the hell was he still wearing anything? – seemed to burn where it brushed over your hip, pressing hot and hard against you. 

“(Y/N),” he breathed, pulling back enough to study your face carefully, as if he were memorising every detail. 

You felt the air catch in your lungs, your heart skip a beat. “You’re so…” Pretty. Lovely. Gorgeous. Hot. Handsome. Beautiful. You’re everything, Ethan. “God, I love you.”

He froze, and it was only then that you realised you’d said it. You’d actually said the goddamn words, aloud, to him. 

“Are you serious?” he asked. Not incredulous, not judgemental, simply seeking clarification. 

And how the hell were you supposed to lie? You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry. 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you,” you repeated numbly. Then, swallowing, “Is that ok?” 

Another beat passed in silence, then he laughed. “Yes, dammit, I love you too.” 

“You… love me too.” Had you heard him right? Had you somehow wandered back to your dream, fallen into an orgasm-dulled sleep and imagined the last few minutes? But no, Ethan’s lips felt real enough when they brushed yours again, his fingers felt real enough on your back. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you. And you love me, don’t you?” 

You nodded, an absurd bubble of laughter swelling in your chest. “Yes,” you grinned. “I love you, Ethan.”

This kiss was different. A kiss has to taste different after something like that, you supposed, and you were both still smiling. You reached down, your fingers skirting the waistband of his underwear, then further still to press your hand against his hard bulge. He moaned into your mouth, breaking the kiss to glance down, up again. 

“Off,” you whispered, already pulling at the fabric. He obliged, quickly and smoothly as he’d rid himself of his shirt, and in a moment his lips were back against your own, hot and hungry. You took his cock in your hand, your own lips moving away from his across his jaw, the hollow where it met his neck, his skin clean and smooth and tasting faintly of hotel soap. 

His dick was hot to the touch, thick and long and roped with veins. You’d wondered, sometimes, what this would feel like. You’d imagined the sound he’d make when you touched him like this (it couldn’t ever have come close to the real thing, you knew that now), how that hot weight would feel against your tongue. He groaned in earnest as you stroked your hand along his length, your thumb swiping around the leaking head. He cursed softly, your name hissing between his teeth, hips moving gently in tandem with your hand. 

“I wanted you for so long, Ethan,” you murmured into his neck. “You have no idea.” 

“Yeah?” 

You smiled. “I dream about you too, you know.” 

He faltered, just for a moment, then, “What about me?” 

You felt your smile widen and you frantically suppressed the urge to laugh again at the echo of your own earlier words. “I dream about fucking you six ways into next week,” you said simply. “Sucking your cock till I’m choking on it and making you cum in my mouth. Or in my pussy, I don’t care.”

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), Jesus,” he groaned, the sound sending another bolt of heat to your still sensitive pussy. “You think about that when we’re out there?” 

“Mhm.” This time you did laugh, nothing more than a soft exhale, not stopping your hand’s movements. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to jerk you off when you’re tryna aim a gun.” 

His cock twitched in your grasp, a low moan pressed back behind his lips. “God, (Y/N) that’s–” 

“Insane?” 

“So fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Wanna feel you, all of you. Can I?” 

Now it was your turn to curse. “Yes,” you breathed, wriggling to wrap your legs around his waist, your hand leaving its place to grip his shoulder, run down his arm, guide his hand to your hip. “Please, Ethan.”

“Here?” 

“Yeah. Here.” You ground your hips against his, already tingling as his cock slid against your slick centre. “I want you inside me. Need you.” 

“Shit, ok, just let me–” He broke off as he sank into you, his hum of pleasure mingling with your own breathy moan. Maybe it was the after effects of your earlier orgasm, the dream state you still weren’t entirely sure you’d broken out of, or a combination of both, but you swore that nothing would ever top this feeling. It was like he was made for you, slow and soft as he pulled out and pushed back in, did it again, then again and again. 

“Shit, Ethan,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair as he bent his head to kiss your chest. You were glad it was still long enough for this, that you hadn’t managed to get him to cut it. He groaned against you and you smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut. 

“Harder?” you murmured. “Don’t have to be so gentle.” 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied, his breath warm against your skin. 

“You won’t, don’t worry. Please?” 

He raised his head, eyes searching your face. “Ok,” he said, dipping down to kiss your lips quickly and softly before he was drawing away and sitting back between your legs, lifting your hips with one hand and sliding a pillow under your lower back with the other. 

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swirling alongside the magma in your stomach. This time he pushed hard into you, his cock stroking every inch of your insides, the hand that had been on your hip sliding to press down on your pelvis. “Yes,” you gasped, “yes, just like that.” 

“Like this?” Another thrust, even and determined. 

“Yeah, oh fuck that’s so good.” You reached up over your head, one hand gripping the headboard of the bed as the other twisted in the sheets, eyes fixed on Ethan. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, shining as though he was cast in silver. He was a fucking masterpiece. 

“You’re so good,” he said. “You look so perfect like that, feel like Heaven, (Y/N), I swear.” 

Oh, did he know what he was doing to you? Every jolt of his hips against yours building low inside you, his barely restrained little sounds and the heaving of his chest. You weren’t going to last much longer. 

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, “ fuck, Ethan, you feel so good. Making me feel so fucking good, so good , you have no idea.” 

“Hm?” 

“So hot. You’re so goddamn hot, you know that?” 

“(Y/N)–” 

You were close. You were so fucking close, wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You whined his name, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, legs tight around his waist. 

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m– I’m gonna–” He broke off, pressing his lips together, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum?”

“Yeah, fuck, where do I–” 

“In me.” 

“You sure?” 

Were you sure? You’d been sure for way too long now. “Yeah, dammit, wanna feel you cum in my pussy, fucking filling me up so good–” 

That did it. His thrusts stuttered and slowed as he spilled inside you, his chest heaving and his head tilted back, eyes closed, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. God, he was just too much, and you’d made him look like that. It had been you, all you, and it was you he was still buried deep inside. Your own climax rolled over you with that, your body squeezing tight and hot around him, your grip on the bed hard enough that you were sure your knuckles were white, spine arching as bliss flooded your body. You might have said his name, he might have said yours again, but it didn’t matter. 

You lay there, warm all over and shaking, watching him. After a moment, his eyes opened and he smiled at you, gingerly pulling out to flop beside you on the mattress. 

“Clean up?” he asked, already reaching over the side of the bed. 

“Yeah.” You were too heavy to do anything but let him gently run the towel he’d found between your legs, thighs and stomach twitching when the rough cotton came into contact with your oversensitive clit. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, cursorily wiping at his own crotch before tossing the piece of fabric away. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed again, wriggling off the pillow and kicking it aside. You shifted closer to him, his arm sliding around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, his heart beating strong next to your own. Your eyes were drawn to the darker, rougher patch on his cheek, and you frowned. 

“What?” he asked. 

“This.” You ran your fingers over it gently, barely even touching the skin, doing the same to the dressing on his arm. “And this. Can I have a look tomorrow?” 

“It is tomorrow.” He nodded to the clock. Right, yeah. After midnight. “I thought I did an ok job,” he went on before you could say anything. 

“Ethan, there’s nothing even on this one,” you protested. “It’s just… there.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna kiss it better?” 

“I never said that.” You smiled, dipping to brush the spot with your lips. Featherlight, barely there. “Better?” 

He nodded. 

“I still want to check them.” 

“Ok,” he relented, squeezing your shoulder gently.  

You shifted closer, your face inches from his own. Up this close, you could see the baby hairs stuck to his forehead with sweat, every eyelash shining iridescent white under the moon. “I meant it,” you whispered.

“What?” 

“That you matter to me. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.” 

His breath rushed through his lungs and back out again as he stretched to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most important thing to me, too. I love you.” 

You tilted your face to his, this time meeting his lips with your own. It was slow, unhurried, relaxed and tender, and everything you adored in Ethan. “I love you, too,” you whispered into it. Then, grinning as you drew back, “And I meant all the other stuff, too.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “All of it?” 

“Yeah.” 

His chest shook with faint laughter under you, his hand stroking over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you thought like that. Didn’t know you thought about me like that.” 

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging, your cheeks warm. “Sorry if it was a bit much.” 

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “it wasn’t. I liked it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You know,” you said as you lay down, “anyone else couldn’t waterboard that out of me.” 

“Guess I’m just that special.” 

“You are, Ethan.” You weren’t shivering anymore, the only weight in you was the pleasant kind of exhaustion that came with finally being safe, being home. Ethan was alive and he knew, he knew you loved him, and he knew what he meant to you, and he loved you too. If this was a dream, it was the best one you’d ever had.

[nordidia]

May I request some pain, Raph flavored

Pretty pleaseeeee

i hope i dont sound angry writing this, but please dont send/ask me stuff like this! i've gotten a lot of similar asks like this and this is scary for me but i need to set a boundary!

.

i dont like making "angst" or sad things, i dont make non-happy content for the sake of inflicting pain, and i dont like people assuming/thinking i do! i make it for meaningful emotional impact, i dont want people to tell me how much they like that i "put raph through pain" or assume im appealing to people who like doing that .. it makes me very sad!

i dont make "angst" to purely hurt characters, im making fanart of a character with emotional depth, and to explore the character's reaction to serious matters, and to let people know that theyre not alone, and that struggling can look like many things

some of the most motivating things ive been told by people who like my comics is that it's helped them (and their therapist sometimes!) figure out what was up with them, because i write a lot of things such as ptsd and anxiety and general mental pain to look different than the media portrays. because there really is alot of forms mental issues can take, and not all of them get portrayed, which leaves real people wondering "whats wrong with me" when its right there, just different form!

i think the closest i'll get to making it "just because" is vent art, but that too has meaning. and i will specify when its vent art for that very reason. to say "this isnt necessarily me exploring anything, or canonical, its to make myself feel less alone, and hopefully, the people seeing this as well"

and thats why i make the content i do, its not because i enjoy putting characters i like through bad things,,, in fact, i often hesitate/regret posting because i feel bad about the things i create for the sake of this. but i try to look past it because it can genuinely help a lot of people, and it does help myself too.

i think that assuming i make emotional stuff just for the sake of pain takes away from that.. i try very hard to not over-do sad stuff and i often cut down on it because i dont want to overwhelm people with it, and to prove that i only do the necessities for the sake of healing from the things i put emphasis on

any of the pain i "put them through" is my take on what they've canonically been through, and exploring their reaction and way to deal with the aftermath of that. nothing more,,, nothing less.

ugly things are still worth talking about, especially for the sake of healing growth

this got alot i hope i made sense uhh yeah!! yeah.,, apolocheese!!

TL;DR: i personally make pain for the necessity of healing, not because i think its fun

and now back to our regularly scheduled program