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Hey 😊👋 I love your Task Force 141 Imagines and finally had the courage to request one myself:
How would they react to the trend where their partner makes dinner but gives them the bigger portion and gives themselves only a small one with the excuse that "That's all we had left" ?
(I hope you understand what I mean)
I'm about 99.9% sure you're talking about the viral TikTok trend. That's what I interpreted the ask as (which is how I wrote it). Most of the time, those videos are pretty wholesome. Sometimes they aren't. But with regards to 141, they're gonna be wholesome about it. No body shaming. Not dismissive. Just walking green flags who are also done with your shit (because pranking them is just hilarious). Anyway! Enjoy!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & practical jokes, humor, fluff, married couple, mild suggestive themes
Word Count: 1k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
"Love, what is that?"
"That's all we had left."
"That's all we had left?" repeats John.
You shrug nonchalantly. There's plenty of food, enough for each of you and leftovers for tomorrow, but John doesn't need to know that...yet.
"It's fine,” you shrug. “I'm not that hungry so I gave you a bigger portion."
John's concern only worsens. "You did what?"
"I wasn’t hungry so I—"
“I heard what you said,” interrupts John. He points at your plate. “But there’s nothing on it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
"No," he says firmly, waving his hand. "No."
Without asking, he swaps your plates.
"John. Stop."
"I'm not that hungry," he says, repeating your own words back at you. "Ate more than enough at work. I don't need all this. You do."
You reach for the plate but he lifts it off the table, holding it out of reach. Part of you wants to scold him to carry on the rouse, but instead you're giggling.
"Not sure what's funny,” grumbles John.
"There's more,” you laugh, covering your mouth.
"There's—” John glances between you and the kitchen. John rolls his eyes but he's trying to hold back a smile. “You naughty fucking thing."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
You place a plate piled high with food in front of Kyle.
“Thanks, babe.” He glances up at you, grinning. His gaze shifts to your plate, smile fading into confusion. You purposely gave yourself less just to see his reaction.
“I forgot forks.” You walk back into the kitchen. “You want a fork, right?”
“Yeah,” replies Kyle slowly, now pointing at your plate. “But…what is that?”
You return to the table. “That’s all we had left.”
Lies. There’s plenty left.
“But why is mine full and yours—” He gestures at your plate.
You feign confusion. “You work really hard. You need it.”
“This,” says Kyle pointing at his own plate. “Is a lot.” He then points at your plate. “That’s not.”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re taking some of mine.”
“Kyle—”
“Don’t argue with me.”
You pick up your fork, intending to eat, but Kyle is quick, snatching your plate right off the table and swapping it with his. He keeps your plate in his hand, shoving you away when you try to reach for it.
“Sit,” he commands.
“Kyle.”
He ignores you, clearing the plate in a couple of bites.
“Kyle,” you scold, but you’re giggling, dropping the guise.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks, glancing around.
Unable to keep control of your composure, you point in the direction of the kitchen. Frowning, Kyle follows your index finger. He takes a few steps into the kitchen and comes to a dead stop.
He slowly spins on his heel, his expression so exasperated that you burst out laughing. With a loud sigh, Kyle returns to the table, swapping the empty plate for the full one.
Dropping into his seat, Kyle shakes his head. “Get yourself a real portion and then come join me.” Then, with a smirk, “You little terror.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny reclines on the sofa, completely absorbed in the rugby match on the television.
With you, is dinner. Two plates, one for each of you. You’ve loaded Johnny’s plate, but have hardly filled yours. It’s just a prank. A test to see if he notices anything.
He has a knack for not paying attention to the smaller details. Sometimes Johnny is so distracted whenever there is a game on that he's oblivious to everything else around him. One time—just to see—you walked around completely naked. It took nearly a full fifteen minutes for him to realize it.
You casually take a seat next to him, offering Johnny his plate.
"Thank you," he says, taking it without removing his gaze from the television.
You keep your plate in your lap, casually moving the few bites of food around while taking incredibly small bites.
Johnny chews. Watches. Still oblivious to your tiny portion.
You purposefully bang your fork against the side of the plate.
He does a double take. "What’s that?"
"What’s what?"
"That.”
You shrug. "It’s all we had left."
With a growl that’s more groan, Johnny starts pushing his food off his plate and onto yours.
"Johnny. No. That's your food." He tuts, not saying anything. "I'm fine." you insist, trying to push his plate away.
“No, love,” says Johnny. He settles back onto the sofa and gives your cheek a quick peck.
You wait a beat. "There's plenty of food."
Johnny turns. Blinks. "Oh, aye?" He grabs your plate and dumps the food back on his.
"Johnny!"
"You’re having a right laugh.” He gestures toward the kitchen. “Go on.”
As you stand, he gives your ass a light smack. When you turn to swat his hand, you’re greeted with his cheeky grin.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
The plate you set before Simon is nearly overflowing.
"Thank you, love," he murmurs, placing his hand at your back.
You lean in, giving him a quick kiss. He accepts it with a soft smile, lightly squeezing your thigh before you step away to grab your own plate.
Compared to Simon’s portion, your plate is practically empty. It’s really only a few bites, but it’s just for kicks. There is plenty still left in the kitchen. You just want to fuck with Simon.
When you set your plate down and fall into your seat, Simon’s attention immediately focuses in on the lack of sustenance.
He leans forward a bit, staring you down, silent.
“What?” you ask, pretending that this is all perfectly normal.
He keeps staring.
“What is it?” you prompt.
“No.”
No. Just—no.
You blink. "No? No what?”
Simon sucks his fork clean and tosses it onto the table, still shaking his head. You’re losing. It’s hardly started and you’ve lost.
“It’s all that’s left!”
He shakes his finger at you, walking away and into the kitchen. “I know you,” he says over his shoulder. “You’re taking the piss.”
Goddamn it.
Simon sees right through you. Always does.
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Princess Treatment - LADS HCs
Premise: You spoil him rotten, giving him the true princess treatment whenever he least expects it. Based on this request. Pairing: reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. This is pure fluff and I wrote these as headcanons on how the MC would spoil the lads men.
XAVIER
Tying His Shoelaces: Xavier, perpetually lost in thought or too sleepy to notice, never realizes his shoelaces have come undone. You’ve taken it upon yourself to stop him mid-step, kneeling down without hesitation to tie them up for him. "Y-you don’t have to do that,” he murmurs, his ears tinged red as other hunters in the UNICORNS squad snicker or raise eyebrows. Despite his protests, he secretly loves the care and attention you give him. Sometimes, he’ll glance down at his laces before heading out, secretly hoping you’ll stop him again.
The Crumb Crisis: You’ve come to notice that Xavier is always getting crumbs on his face—whether it’s from a snack he didn’t realize he’d left out or a meal he’s rushed through. You’ve made it a habit to carry a handkerchief with you, and whenever you see those crumbs stuck to his cheek, you gently take the cloth and wipe them off. He’s always caught off guard, sometimes even stammering, "I'm fine, really!" but the quiet appreciation in his eyes is unmistakable.
Homecooked Comfort: After grueling missions, Xavier is too drained to do much beyond collapsing on his couch. And given his well-documented kitchen disasters—he once managed to burn soup—you’ve made it a point to spoil him with hearty, homecooked meals. From comforting stews to his favorite snacks, you make sure he’s well-fed and taken care of. The first time you did it, his sleepy eyes widened in surprise. “You… made this for me?” “Of course. You deserve it.” He savors every bite, and though he’s not great with words, the way he quietly finishes everything on his plate is thanks enough.
Fuck the machines: Claw machines are Xavier’s mortal enemy. You’ve watched him struggle time and again, his focus no match for the slippery claws, even when he uses his Evol. So, you’ve taken over as his claw machine champion. "Which one do you want this time?” you ask, cracking your knuckles as he hesitates before shyly pointing to a particularly adorable plush. You win it with ease, handing it to him with a triumphant grin. “For you, Your Highness.” He laughs softly, his rare smile lighting up his face. “You’re too good at this.”
Bedhead Boy: Xavier’s perpetually messy bedhead is endearing, but sometimes it’s just too much for you to resist smoothing down. With a quiet hum, you gently comb your fingers through his hair, fixing it without a second thought. “Hey…” he starts to protest, but he always lets you finish, his ears pink as you pat his head affectionately.
ZAYNE
Door Dash: Zayne’s disdain for hospital canteen food is no secret, and you’ve made it your mission to ensure he eats something wholesome during his grueling shifts. You send him meals carefully packed in insulated containers, often including his favorite dishes. Occasionally, you’ll slip in a small dessert, knowing his secret sweet tooth. He doesn’t say much when he gets them, but you’ve caught a glimpse of the faint smirk he wears when he opens the package. “You know I can survive on vending machine snacks, right?” he’d quip over the phone later, but the fact he finishes every bite says otherwise.
Sticky notes: Zayne isn’t the type to expect grand gestures, so you leave small, thoughtful surprises instead. A note tucked into his hospital coat pocket with a cheeky, “Don’t overwork yourself. I still need my heart surgeon around.” Or a sticky note on his dashboard that reads, “Drive safe, handsome.” Once, he found one in his mail that simply said, “Stop glaring at everyone, I know you’re secretly nice.” He pretends to be unfazed, rolling his eyes or muttering something sarcastic like, “Am I being stalked?” but he keeps every single one in a drawer at home.
Spoil me, rotten: Zayne’s wardrobe is filled with impeccably tailored long coats, a staple of his polished appearance. You’ve taken to buying him accessories like elegant brooches, leather gloves, or even scarves that perfectly complement his collection. He always protests when you present them, narrowing his eyes and saying, “You do know I can buy these myself, right?” But the next time you see him, he’s wearing the latest item with an almost imperceptible look of pride. You tease him about it, and he deadpans, “It’s just practical. Don’t overthink it.”
Doctor's Day Out: Knowing how chaotic Zayne’s schedule as a top surgeon can be, you take charge of planning the weekends so he doesn’t have to lift a finger. Whether it’s booking a cozy dinner reservation, arranging a quiet getaway, or even planning an at-home movie night, you ensure everything is set. “All you need to do is show up and look stunning,” you joke, and he raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’m halfway there already,” he retorts dryly, but the way he leans back and relaxes during those weekends tells you he’s more grateful than he lets on.
Massage therapist: Zayne’s hands are his lifeline, and after long, intricate surgeries, they’re often sore and strained. You’ve made it a habit to take his hands in yours and gently massage them, working out the tension in his fingers and wrists. He pretends to be indifferent at first but notices that your skills have improved. After all, you’d put in the effort to learn different techniques to aid him and his skilled hands. “I hope you’re not charging me for this.” He jokes. But as your thumbs press into the tight knots, his usual stoic demeanor falters. The sharp lines of stress around his eyes soften, and his shoulders, once hunched from exhaustion, slowly unwind.
RAFAYEL
After you: It’s no secret Rafayel enjoys being the center of your attention, and you’re more than happy to oblige. Wherever you are—be it a café, an art gallery, or even your own home—you always make it a point to open the door for him. Without fail, he pauses, waiting for you to complete the gesture. It’s not that he can’t do it himself, but he loves seeing that soft, proud smile on your face when you hold the door just for him. Of course, he’d never outright admit it. Instead, he’ll quip something bratty, like, “Took you long enough, Cutie” but the faint curve of his lips tells you he secretly adores it.
Color Splash: Rafayel’s world revolves around his art, and you’ve made it your mission to fuel his creativity. Whether it’s hunting down rare pigments, finding unconventional materials to create new textures, or gifting him innovative tools, you never miss an opportunity to surprise him. When he first discovers your thoughtful additions to his collection, he’s practically radiant, eyes gleaming with inspiration as he eagerly experiments. Of course, he’ll nonchalantly mutter, “I could’ve found this myself, you know,” but his excitement is undeniable, and you know you’ve made his day.
Cheater, Cheater: You pride yourself on your competitive streak, but when it comes to Kitty Cards with Rafayel, you can’t help but let him bend the rules. He catches on every time, glancing at you with a knowing smirk as he casually switches out cards while you pretend not to notice. He knows exactly what you’re doing but plays along with a sly grin. Winning always means he gets to name his prize, and without fail, it’s more time with you. “Your competitive streak is slipping, cutie,” he teases, already pulling you closer. “Guess you’ll just have to pay for it with another evening by my side.”
Passenger Princess: Whether it’s the car or your motorbike, Rafayel is always the passenger princess with you. He’s perfectly content letting you take the wheel, whether it’s navigating through traffic or cruising down open roads. He’ll sit back, casually tossing a playful comment your way, his relaxed demeanor making it clear he has no interest in taking control. But even more than that, he loves the attention you give him. He’ll rest his hand on your shoulder or his head against the seat, basking in the comfort of being close to you. It’s his way of enjoying the ride—and you—without the fuss.
Creative Clean up: Rafayel’s studio is a whirlwind of creativity, but it’s also a constant mess. Brushes, paints, papers, clothes—everything’s scattered around like a storm wrecked his living space. Coffee cups would double as pen holders, and brushes would be left lying around like they were an afterthought. But no matter how chaotic it became, you never complained. You’d roll up your sleeves and clean up every single time you visited him. He’d give you a cheeky grin, the same one he wore whenever he was being a brat, and say, “You know you don’t have to do this, right? I like my space just the way it is.” But he never stopped you, and in the moments when he didn’t look, his eyes would soften, and a hint of appreciation would slip through his normally playful mask. He knew you cared for him in a way that no one else did.
SYLUS
Product Placement: Sylus was used to getting what he wanted, whether it was luxury items or rare finds. He had his preferences, and he wasn’t one to settle for less. But when you made it your mission to keep his favorite, expensive brands stocked in your home—whether it was gourmet food, skincare products, or niche equipment—it didn’t go unnoticed. The first time you did this, Sylus had been caught off guard. He’d teased you, of course. “I don’t need you to be my personal store, kitten. I’ve got everything I need.” But when he came over and found everything perfectly laid out just the way he liked it, the teasing turned into a more meaningful smile. He would let you spoil him just enough to acknowledge your effort, but never enough to let you feel like you were getting the upper hand. That was the Sylus way.
Rare Rhythms: Sylus’ love for rare records was well-known, and so was the fact that he had an extensive collection of limited-edition vinyl. But you didn’t mind diving into the world of obscure, indie artists just to get him something new for his collection. It wasn’t easy, though. It took long hours of scouring flea markets, searching online auction houses, and talking to music enthusiasts who knew more than a thing or two about underground talent. It was often a challenge, but for you, it was worth every second. Sylus didn’t say much, but you could tell by the way he listened to every single one of them, that he was genuinely impressed. "They’ve got potential," he'd said, before you knew it, that same artist was suspiciously rising in popularity, and you’d smile every time Sylus mentioned them. “You really know how to find a diamond in the rough, don’t you, sweetie?”
Spoiled Stubborn: Sylus was always the one taking the lead, always the one orchestrating the grand gestures. Spoiling him? Not so easy. He didn’t make it easy for anyone to do that. He would never outright refuse, but it was clear that when you tried, he preferred to return the favor rather than let you take charge. But you were stubborn—probably even more so than he was. You wanted him to be spoiled just as much. You wanted him to experience the kind of care he gave to everyone else, and you had just the way to do it: Planning dates where he couldn’t take over. Once it was picnic in the woods. You went all out—your best blankets, his favorite snacks, wine you knew he’d like—and most importantly, you took care of every detail so that he couldn’t take charge. The other time, it was a movie night at your place where everything was set: Popcorn, soda, the projector and candy. “You’re stubborn, you know that?” he remarked softly, but there was affection behind his words. "I want spoil you... but you’ve managed to spoil me instead." You smiled, the warmth in your chest spreading, knowing that in these small moment, you had made him feel cared for—something he usually avoided letting others do.
Sylus’ Salon: Sylus had always been a little gruff, his rugged demeanor giving off the impression of someone who was clinical and composed. But you knew him better than that. One of those moments was when you washed and dried his hair. He’d never asked for it, but you’d begun doing it without thinking. Maybe it was the way his silver hair shimmered under the water, or maybe it was the way he looked so disarmed when he let his guard down, letting you comb through his hair with graceful fingers. You’d always notice how his breath would deepen, how his eyes would close just a little longer than necessary. "I know you like doing this," he’d say, the faintest hint of a grin playing on his lips. "But you’re making it hard for me to act all tough with you fussing over me like this." You’d laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead before continuing to dry his hair. It was an act of tenderness, a side of him that no one got to see.
Touch Starved: Sometimes, it wasn’t the grand gestures that mattered. It was the little touches. —a soft brush of your hand against his cheek or the fleeting warmth of your fingers tracing his jaw—he couldn’t help but pause. He’d find himself rewinding moments of you brushing his hair out of his face, or simply wrapping your arms around him when he least expected it. He’d tense, but only for a moment, before letting the warmth of your embrace dissolve his guarded exterior. “It seems like a certain kitten cannot keep her hands to herself.” Sylus would tease, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as you snuck in another kiss, letting him know that you’d spoil him with your touches and kisses, even if he won’t admit it loudly.
AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#lads#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads zayne#lads sylus#lnds rafayel#lnds zayne#lnds xavier#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#l&ds zayne#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#lads drabble#l&ds sylus#l&ds rafayel#l&ds xavier#l&ds#zayne#xavier#rafayel#linaisdelulu
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 14
Or: a secret Admirer AU
TW: homophic language used due to internalized homophobia
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13
Steve doesn’t know what’s worse, not being able to see the expression on Eddie’s face, or the moment he turns around and he can see it. He looks like Steve just shot his dog. But, wouldn’t Chrissy be the dog in that metaphor? Steve drops it before Robin can somehow sense his train of thought and burst into the room with the sole purpose of punching him.
“So, what?” Eddie asks, voice sharp and angry. “This was all just some joke? Pick on the freak? Make him think a pretty girl actually likes him?”
Any sadness he’d been feeling is wiped off his face now, masked over with a tired sort of rage. It’s tempting to go along with Eddie’s assumptions. Yes, it was all just a joke. Yes, they’d all been laughing behind his back for weeks on end. After all, Eddie doesn’t look hurt, he looks pissed.
But, it’s too late. Steve had already seen the anguish in Eddie’s eyes before he’d banked it.
“No,” Steve murmurs, only noticing that Eddie’s mid-tirade when he stops talking. His head’s buzzing too loud to hear much else. “It wasn’t a joke.”
Eddie scoffs, waiting in pointed silence until Steve raises his head and meets his eyes. “Then how do you explain all this?” He gyrates his hand around the room, encompassing all four of their bodies with jerky movements. “Huh, Harrington?”
Steve swallows. He hopes it’s not as audible to everyone else as it is in his own ears, but by the way Eddie’s gaze snaps down to it before pulling back up to meet his eyes again, that hope is futile.
“I just—” Steve starts, forcing himself to keep looking at Eddie, even as his eyes flay him open. “It wasn’t supposed to get this complicated.”
“What does that mean?” Eddie asks, gritting out every word, body leaning toward Steve like he wants to reach across the distance between them and strangle him.
“I just like you, okay?” Steve snaps. Eddie jerks back like he’d just taken a blow. “I liked you, and I thought this would be a good way to, I don’t know, work through it?”
“You like me?” Eddie asks, almost laughing, just like that day in the cafeteria when he was singling out the jocks, just like he always does when something’s not funny but he’s pretending it is.
It hurts anyway.
“I’m sorry,” Steve mutters, staring down at his own lap, unable to look at anyone in the room. “I didn’t mean to make it your problem.”
“Didn’t mean to—” Eddie snaps, and Steve sees an abrupt enough movement that Steve’s afraid Eddie’s going to hit him. Steve jerks back into the couch, heartbeat rabbiting in his chest, but all Eddie’s done is stand, hands clenched, mouth snarling. “How the hell is tricking me into thinking Chrissy Cunningham liked me not making it my problem?”
“Eddie—“ Jeff cuts in, tone a warning, but Eddie doesn’t even seem to notice.
“You really think that’s ‘not making it my problem?’” Eddie asks, throwing finger quotations around it mockingly as he glares down at Steve. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Steve feels small, wishes he was smaller—he wants to sink into the cracks of the Munson’s ratty couch and never be seen again. This moment is too much for him.
He’s known ever since that moment in the cafeteria when Eddie’d pressed his lips to Chrissy’s hand that they’d end up here. He knew, but he’d kept writing the letters, kept Chrissy embroiled into his mess. Chrissy who’s standing silent and shocked behind Eddie, hand pressed to her mouth as Steve’s mess implodes around him.
“I’m sorry,” Steve replies, voice small. He’s not sure if he’s talking to Eddie, or Chrissy, or hell, even Jeff. He just knows that he really, truly is sorry.
“You’re sorry?” Eddie demands, and he’s pacing now, hands fisted into his own hair. “You’re sorry for what? For derailing my life? For making me think someone might actually like me? For what?”
Steve doesn’t say anything as he watches Eddie’s movements become more frenetic. He’s pulling his hair hard now, and all Steve wants to do is reach out and grab Eddie’s hands, make him stop hurting himself. But, it’s not his place, so he clenches his hands into fists atop his own thighs and looks up at the boy he likes unraveling at the seams. Because of him.
“The first time a girl actually likes me and it’s you.” It lands like venom, leaching through all the sinew and bone of Steve’s body and turning his beating heart into a pulpy mess. “What, you thought just because everyone calls me a freak that I’d be a quee—”
“Eddie!” It’s Chrissy and Jeff, both shouting out at the same time, clearly trying to get Eddie to stop talking before he says something irreversible.
It’s too late: Steve’s already heard him.
He doesn’t know what his own face is doing, but when Eddie finally looks at him, his face goes white, then turns sort of green like he’s going to be sick. When he takes a halting step forward, Steve can’t help the way he presses further into the couch, hands shaking where they’re still clenching in his lap.
He wants to scream, or cry, or die so he doesn’t have to do this anymore. But, Eddie’s right, this is all his fault, so the least he can do is offer up an explanation.
“It’s not Chrissy’s fault,” Steve says, looking down at his own shaking hands, willing them to lie still. “Or Jeff’s. I dragged them into this, so don’t be mad at them, okay?”
“Steve—” Chrissy says, voice choking with emotion.
“I was afraid.” Steve talks right over her, doesn’t even look her way. He can’t, or he’ll break. “But, that’s no excuse for making you have to deal with my bullshit.”
“Steve,” Chrissy tries again.
“I’m sorry.” Steve finally looks up from his lap, meeting Eddie’s fathomless eyes. “I’ll leave you alone now.”
Steve gets up on shaky legs and walks to the trailer’s front door, giving Eddie a wide berth. No one says anything as he makes his way through the small living room, or when he opens the door and steps through.
It’s only as the door’s shutting closed behind him that he hears Eddie say, “Shit Harrington, wait.”
Steve doesn’t. He walks down the Munson’s drive and straight out of the trailer park.
No one follows him.
***
The silence hangs like a noose in the trailer after the click of the door closing quietly behind Harrington’s drooping frame. Eddie stares into nothing, entirely blank.
“That was cruel.” It’s Chrissy who says it. Chrissy, who pretended to like him, who led him on, who…was just trying to protect her friend.
“Not any crueler than he was to me,” Eddie mutters, still staring at the closed door feeling inexplicably like he should run after him.
Instead, he turns his back on the door and tries to forget the slope of Harrington’s shoulders as he’d walked out on him.
His brain’s full of fog, emotions swirling around too quickly for him to catch any of them. He can’t make sense of any of this. Not Chrissy who pretended to like him or Steve Harrington, who actually did, not—
“You—” Eddie starts, eyes focusing as something else takes over his brain as he sets his sights on Jeff. “You knew?”
Jeff grimaces, but straightens his spine and tilts his chin up like Eddie’s the enemy now. “Yeah,” he says, all flippant, as if Eddie’s world isn’t shattering around his feet. “I knew.”
Eddie laughs, can’t help it with the way anger’s pooling in his gut. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“It was Steve’s secret to te—”
“Screw Steve!” Eddie shouts, suddenly enough that Chrissy takes a startled step back. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”
Jeff scoffs, stepping in front of Chrissy. “Your friend?” he demands with an incredulous laugh that makes Eddie want to strangle him. “You didn’t even tell me about the letters in the first fucking place!”
He stomps forward, coming at Eddie like he’s going to do—something, Eddie will never know what because Chrissy wraps her arm around his waist and pulls him back with a chiding, worried, “Jeff.”
Eddie stares at the way her fingers curl proprietarily into the fabric of his t-shirt, the way he steadies under her touch and takes a step back, the way he stands in the cradle of her hold like it’s his birthright.
“Hold—hold on,” Eddie says, holding his hand out like that’ll stop the dots from connecting in his own mind. “Are you two—”
He doesn’t finish the thought, can’t put words to what he’s accusing them of, not right now. But, as he flails his fingers between them, they both look at the floor, in goddamn sync, even with their own guilt. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
Anger’s always been Eddie’s worst enemy; he’s pretty sure it’s an inherited trait from his pa, the way rage makes his blood boil, makes him take things too far, makes him react like verbal words are a physical threat. Just like his pa, no matter how much he doesn’t want to be.
“So, you what?” he asks, whole body shaking with the force of his anger. “Decided to lead me on while fucking my best friend?”
He laughs, sharp and mean when Chrissy jerks like he slapped her. He clenches his fist against the desire to do just that.
“You don’t get to talk to her like that,” Jeff replies quietly, like that’ll make him the reasonable one.
“Fuck o—“
“You don’t own her,” Jeff interrupts him, Eddie screams in his throat, wild with the fire burning through him.
Jeff sighs, low and disappointed, just like Uncle Wayne does if Hop picks Eddie up for some trumped-up charges, or he fails another pop quiz, or he brings in more money he can’t explain to his Uncle.
The thought of Wayne is what does him in. Even in absentia, that old man brings him back to himself. Eddie shudders, takes a step back and stares at the carpet beneath his toes, trying to bank his anger back beneath his ribs where it can’t hurt anyone else.
“I’m sorry we hurt you,” Jeff continues, voice soft, soft soft. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on. But Eddie?”
It takes a long moment for Eddie to drag gaze away from his own feet and up to Jeff’s face. Jeff waits, silent, until Eddie meets his eyes.
“You need to figure your own shit out, too,” he says gently. “Because if you don’t? You’re going to hurt everyone around you, not just Steve.”
Eddie looks back at the door Harrington—Steve—had walked through, feelings twisting around on themselves until they’re choking him.
“Harrington,” Eddie starts, throat catching on the consonants of his name like it’d been years since he last spoke. “Did he really—?”
He can’t finish this thought either, hopes Jeff or Chrissy will pluck it from his mind and answer it for him.
“Like you?” Jeff asks, waiting for Eddie to nod his assent before answering. “Yeah, man. He does.”
The present tense is what does him in. Does. Steve Harrington, king of the jocks, liar, boy, likes him. Enough to write letters to him. He doesn’t know what to do with this, where to put it in the reality of his life.
“Oh.”
“You can’t tell anyone, Eddie,” Chrissy says, taking a step around Jeff to look up at Eddie with pleading eyes. “They’ll kill him.”
It’s only then, staring at the terror on Chrissy’s face, that the magnitude of the secret he’s just learned sinks in. Harrington, lady-killer, probable prom king, jock extraordinaire, is queer.
The vindictive part of Eddie he tries to keep caged wants to sling this around— Harrington’s just comeuppance for every time he’s made the rest of them feel less than, feel like a freak. But, even with his anger barely banked, Eddie knows the punishment wouldn’t fit the crime.
Harrington had, what? Laughed snidely behind Hagan after standing by while he’d seen a nerd get his books knocked out of his hands? Had been born with a perfect face and perfect hair in a castle of a house, so he’d been idolized for it.
Telling wouldn’t take that all away—it’d leave Harrington dead.
Even Hagan doesn’t deserve that.
So, all Eddie says is, “I won’t,” quietly, hoping she believes him.
She sighs, slumping into Jeff, trusting him to hold her up. Eddie doesn’t want to see it anymore; he can’t be in the same room as those two and not let the fire in his blood bleed through to his words.
He stands, stiff, unsure, and asks, “can you guys just go?”
“Eddie—“
“Jeff, please,” Eddie asks, voice breaking on the last word.
“Okay.”
Jeff ushers Chrissy out of his trailer and, just before the door shuts behind him, Eddie calls out, “Jeff?”
“Yeah, buddy?” Jeff calls back, not turning back around, not closing the door.
“I’ll call you,” he says, hoping it’s loud enough for his friend to hear. “Okay?”
Jeff doesn’t point out the lack of time frame or the way Eddie’s voice shakes. He’s good like that, always has been, no matter how mad they get at each other. “You call, and I’ll pick up.”
Without another word, Jeff lets the door close. Eddie stands there stationary until he hears the sound of a car starting, kicking up gravel all the way out of the trailer park. Only then, does he collapse onto the couch and bury his head in his hands.
It’s a mistake—the pressure of his hand making pain bloom hard and fast on the bruise on his eyes. Eddie groans, tired, in pain, and completely done. He wants Uncle Wayne to brush his hair out of his face, wants Jeff to sit at his side, or Gareth to light a joint for him, or Chrissy to bump their shoulders together.
He wants—
The bag of frozen peas Harrington had handed him have gone mushy and warm.
The trailer’s quiet, and Eddie’s all alone.
PART 15
#koko's steddie secret admirer au#steddie#my fic#the moment you were all waiting for. now it's just ow ow ow ow
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What Kind of Rizz Boku No Hero Academia Guys Have
Pairing: Izuku Midoriya, Bakugo Katsuki, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Keigo Takami, Toya Todoroki x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, wholesome, flirting, being flustered, kissing, blushing, love confession, holding hands, love letters
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters
A/N: This started as a joke but I really liked it.
IZUKU
Has no intentional rizz. What he does have is completely by accident, so much so that he doesn't even notice it himself and neither do you for the longest time. Any rizz he may have is fumbled by his aggressive blushing and stuttering when you flirt with him and expect him to do the same. Even if he has no rizz he's cute, he's compassionate, he's hard-working, and for you he is indeed boyfriend material.
BAKUGO
Extremely aggressive rizz on his part. There's no way he won't flirt with you any chance he gets, pulling you by the wrist and kissing your cheek in the middle of the hallway. Anyone who would even try to make fun of him for it would get an earful of arguments and insults hurled at them and perhaps more of he feels really pissed off. You're his girlfriend and he will flirt with you no matter who is watching, he won't back down from it.
SHOTO
Feels too drawn back to have rizz but that actually works in his favor. He doesn't say much to you unless he really likes you, otherwise he keeps it to subtle and short handholding sessions. A lot of what he will do, how he will flirt, depends on the weather, if it's cold he offers to warm you up, if it's hot he offers to cool you down, he uses his powers to make you more comfortable. If you don't want to cuddle he won't force you of course, but it is one of his strongest rizz moves.
EIJIRO
Really hopes he has enough rizz to confess to you and have you become his girlfriend. When he tries to confess he often gets his words stuck in his throat and ends up saying something silly instead. He does a lot to try to impress you with his physical feats when his words fail him, he tries to do really well in sports or in any Quirk demonstrations. Finally he works up the courage to tell you how he feels but in the process of it his Quirk activates.
TENYA
Absolutely no rizz to be found in his entire body. This isn't because he's not trying hard to have rizz, to flirt, to get you to be the flustered one in the relationship but it has very little success because you know him too well. One kiss will render him powerless at your feet, a complete puddle on the floor and he really wants to counter it. Unfortunately he can't find the words but he does manage to slip a love letter into your locker and run before you can open it.
KEIGO
Probably has one of the highest amounts of rizz among the heroes. Some of it is intentional, some of it isn't, he's really not trying to flirt with you or anyone. However that is what happens when you're one of the most famous, and in your opinion, handsome heroes in the whole world. He doesn't shy away from flirting with you in public, in front of cameras and reporters, in fact he will kiss you full on the mouth and have it make the news.
TOYA
Does have rizz, knows he has rizz, and uses that to his advantage to get you on his side when he needs to. Sure, he's the villain, he's the bad guy, the one man you shouldn't be attracted to and yet when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear you want nothing more than to be his. When you do go over to his side he doesn't stop, he pulls you onto his lap during meetings, grins while others groan at the sight. There is no force in the world that can stop his flirting.
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#izuku x reader#bakugo x reader#shoto x reader#eijiro x reader#tenya x reader#keigo x reader#toya x reader#hawks x reader#dabi x reader#bnha imagines#mha imagines#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#bnha fluff#mha fluff#bnha x you#mha x you#bnha x female reader#mha x female reader#boku no hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia imagine#boku no hero academia fluff#boku no hero academia x you#boku no hero academia x female reader#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia imagine#my hero academia headcanons#my hero academia fluff
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HI!! how are you??
do you mind doing a poly seventeen relationship with vernon and chan and they spoil her alot?? (smut tho)
thank you!! i love you and your blog <3
18+ / mdi
content: bf!vernon and bf!chan, smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), handjob, mentions of m receiving oral, mentions of shower sex, etc.
wc: 886
a/n: i couldn't help but write them bickering bc i i just know they totally would in real life.
masterlist
"dude, what the fuck? i thought you guys were going to work today. hyung, you literally have a solo song coming up!"
chan's whines were not enough to get you to stop kissing vernon's neck as you cuddled into him on the couch, nor where they enough for vernon, apparently. his hands were very intent on feeling every inch of your tits, something which you did not want chan to take away from you.
"just did some recording from the home studio," was all vernon said in reply, hands now reaching your ass to pull you on top of him, lips finding yours in a kiss.
"i will not be a third wheel in my own home," he grumbled, "move over, you've had her all day."
he made his way to the couch, sitting on the other side of you as he fought vernon for your attention. after a bit of back and forth, vernon gave you one last kiss before leaving you in chan's arms, pleased enough to have had you to himself all day.
it's not like chan and vernon never shared you at the same time, but they just so happened to both be a little possessive. they preferred to take turns to ensure they could each be fully satisfied. and you? you had no complaints.
"i'm gonna go make some hoco. want some, baby?" he asked as he headed to the kitchen.
"mm, yes, nonnie," you interrupted a heady kiss from chan to respond.
"for me too!," said the aforementioned boy before kissing you again.
vernon chuckled and shook his head as he left, taking note that he should probably ask you to shower with him later. he wanted the last word after chan had his way with you.
~
"oh, but this is fine? weren't you complaining we took a day off without you literally yesterday?"
now it was vernon's turn to walk in on you and chan. however, this time you were located in the bedroom, with chan deep between your legs as you sat at the edge of the bed.
"sorry, baby. i might've convinced him to stay home since you'd be gone today," you mumbled in between gasps.
"c'mere, baby. my hand is all yours," you gestured him to sit next to you as your other hand held onto chan's head, leading his movements against your cunt.
vernon needed no further encouragement, undoing his pants as he walked over to bed and took a seat next to you, kissing you and letting his hands feel up your tits as you began working him with your own hand — god, he really was a boob guy.
"mmm, missed you today," he hummed between kisses.
"me more, nonn- ah! sorry, channie, fuck, you're being so good for me, baby."
wordlessly, he had demanded for attention while his tongue was deep in you. it was the classic competition for your affection.
"fuck, baby, keep doing that. gonna fuck you later, okay? fuck you to sleep, shit, yeah?", mumbled vernon against your lips. his orgasm was close, you could hear it in his voice. he must've been tired from practicing all day.
"mhm, shit. please," you pleaded before turning your attention to the other boy, "channie, shit, 'm gonna cum soon."
he murmured incoherent words into your folds, nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot as he sped up. you were so into your own pleasure you hadn't realized the poor boy had been using your shoe to hump in order to release his own tension.
you hoped he wouldn't cum from it. you had way better plans for him as soon as you got vernon off with your hand.
a high pitched cry was the last thing you voiced against vernon's lips, soon followed by his own grunts of pleasure as he dirtied your hand with his spunk. he was insistent in kissing you throughout both your orgasms, sometimes not even landing on your lips, but still within the ballpark. it was a disorganized mess, as it usually was with vernon.
chan waited patiently until the two of you got a fill of each other. he'd been enjoying the show you and vernon gave him, lip caught in his teeth up until he reached up to you and stole you away from vernon, instead giving you a taste of yourself through the remnants of his lips.
"stop, i'm the one you should be kissing right now," he complained as vernon chuckled beside you, getting up to get a rag to clean himself with.
"i know, channie," you coo'd, "i'll make it up to you, okay, baby?"
getting up, you held out your hand for him with a smile, leading him to the restroom connected to your room. before entering, you turned back to vernon, nodding at him to follow along and giggling when he lit up at the invitation.
"i'll suck off whoever washes my hair," you proposed once in the bathroom.
you were met with a whiny back and forth between both men, insisting they were the best at washing your hair and that the other had already gotten more than enough attention from you.
in the end, it didn't really matter. you had more than enough in you to satisfy both of them. you just liked to see them bicker over you.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt oneshot#vernon imagines#vernon fanfic#vernon x reader#vernon smut#dino oneshot#dino x reader#dino fanfic#dino smut#dino imagines
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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part three (8.929 words).
| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.
“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further. Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.
| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader (platonic), Other Avengers x R. Angst with comfort, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, severe injuries, no happy ending.
| Author's notes — This is the last part of the "Devious Lies" serie, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).
Many people would say that you are not a hero, not anymore. You have lost this title years ago, the day you revealed your true face to the world by cheating on Natasha —; how could they trust someone with their lives when that person can’t even remain loyal to their girlfriend? A hero is not a human, it is a perfect being that exists for the sole purpose of saving the world, and making children dream. You exist only to give hope to the population, but there is none once they discover that you are just like any of them, someone full of flaws, and failures, just a mess —; just human.
Who knows the horrible things you might have done in the past, or the numerous lies you could have said to twist the reality? Not them, because they know nothing of the truth behind your departure, but they were still convinced that you were a monster who had been lying to them all this time, and it was too late to undo their hatred. A few days had been enough for rumours to spread, suddenly everyone had a story to share that proves how wicked you were. These stories have slowly replaced those of your greatest achievements, the many times you saved the world now forgotten in favor of all the little things you did wrong.
And you know these stories by heart because you have read about them in newspapers, heard them on television and in cafés. Wherever you go, these rumors follow you, they stick to your skin like an obsessive ex that won’t let you go, even after several years. The people never forget, nor they forgive.
Yet, none of them had the courage to hate you to your face. No, it was always behind your back, a bunch of glances they thought were discreet and whispers as soon as you turned around. You might not be their hero anymore, but you haven’t lost your abilities, and they are aware that you could easily kill any of them in less than a minute. But, instead of letting the anger consumes you, you pretended to not see the fear in their eyes, mixed with hatred. Except that, the longer this situation lasted, the more difficult it became for you to ignore their hostility. You would lie if you said it didn’t bother you to see these emotions replace the admiration that used to sparkle in their eyes.
If you are being honest, you have thought about it, about killing some of them. These thoughts come to your mind more times that you care to admit —; it would be so easy to snap their necks so you will never hear their hateful whispers again.
What do you have to lose anyway?
Nothing you haven’t already. At worst, they will send you in prison, but to your exhausted mind the idea sounded more tempting than repellent. Sometimes, you think about it as a sweet dream, and it brings you some peace —; if you were in prison, you would be blessed with ignorance. If you were in prison, they would have a real reason to use these slurs. If you were in prison, you would eventually be where you deserve to be. But, no matter how many times you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and so, instead, you shut yourself away in your crappy apartment, where you could no longer harm anyone.
— — —
“But you are still a hero,” the man told you. It was months ago, almost a year, and it was the first time you had seen Fury since the events that led you to take a break.
A break that was coming to an end, and that you were desperately trying to prolong. Unfortunately, the man is as stubborn as you are, and he is determined to convince you to return to the field. He needs you, and that is obvious, even though those words haven’t crossed his lips. You can feel his desperation.
You disagree with him.
You are not a hero, and he definitely doesn’t need you. There are dozens of agents more talented than you are, dozens of promising, and less controversial, souls who deserve a chance. He should better abandon you now, and let you rot in your apartment, because he will be disappointed sooner or later. But you didn’t tell him that. Instead, you stayed quiet, because the words were stuck in your throat.
“Don’t tell me that you are that kind of agent?” he asked, to fill the silence. The tone of his voice had changed slightly. There was something petty about it, something that is crawling under your skin —; it is the disappointment that his words carry. Yet, you have no idea what he is talking about —; “that kind of agent”? The worlds held no meaning to you, but you could still feel that they didn’t bode well, and that you didn’t want to be that kind of agent. You can see his eyebrows rise in anticipation of an answer you can’t give him.
“What kind?” you asked back, without any conviction, just because you know that is what he expects. You accompany these words with a sigh.
You are not in the mood for this kind of game. You only want one thing, and it is to go back to your apartment, to slip back into the comfort of your sheets and stay there for days to come. In fact, you may never leave them ever again. That is the only place where you can ignore the world, where all your worries disappear along with the rest. The only place where you do not need to be human, or pretend to be strong, where you can be a mess, and no one would be here to judge.
You were really not comfortable at the idea of coming here, to Fury’s office, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. 's headquarters, and being there makes the feeling even worse. He promised you that no one would know, but how could he be sure? The mere thought that one of them could see you there makes you nervous, and prevents you from concentrating.
What if it happens?
What if, despite Fury’s promises, you run into one of them?
You have no idea what you might tell them if it happens. Is it better to beg for their forgiveness, or would it be too much? You bet they wouldn’t even listen to you, anyway —; they haven’t in the past, why would it be different a year later?
Maybe they won’t even acknowledge you, and you should probably do the same —; but wouldn’t it be worse? You are not sure that you could handle this possibility, that you could walk by the people that once were your family as if they were complete strangers.
Maybe it is better if they decide to scream —; that is what a part of you is craving for, no matter how twisted it can be. Because, if they scream, if they still hate you, it means that they care, right? No one would take some of their time and energy to yell at someone they don’t care about, right? Because it wouldn’t make sense.
“The kind that does it for fame,” he replied, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. It was so intense that it made you want to disappear. You hate it, the way he looks at you, as if he knows all the secrets of your soul, and so you are fidgeting in your seat, unable to stay still because of your nerves.
“No, I am not,” you sighed the words that you knew the man was expecting you to say, falling right into his trap. You are conscious of it, but you are too exhausted to fight, and it is way much easier to give the man what he wants.
Yet, your voice is full of uncertainty —; does it make you a bad person to want to stop helping people? At least, that is what he seems to be suggesting, and maybe he is not wrong. Maybe the only reason you want to stop is because you are selfish —; anyone with your skills wouldn’t hesitate to save the world. But not you, not anymore. Why? When did you become one of the bad guys, one of those who don’t care about others?
You want to tell him — to yell at him — that it is not about lost celebrity, that it was about being hated by almost every soul living on earth, but the words get stuck in your throat —; what’s the difference, after all? Are you really gonna let people die because they do not like you, is that the kind of person you became? No, it is not, and it will never be.
“Does that mean I can count on you?” he asked, and you answered with a murmured yes, because that is what he wants to hear, and because you only want this conversation to end. From the very moment you sat on this chair, you have been eyeing the exit, and you are more than willing to give the man what he wants in exchange for the right to leave.
— — —
“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further.
Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity.
What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain. It has been several years since you lost the title of hero. It is not about your great successes anymore, it is about all the mistakes you have ever made, the ones that make you detestable in the public’s eyes. Now, you are just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and a controversial one at that. You are the rotten apple that the direction doesn’t really know what to do with. They might desperately need you — or, more accurately, your skills — but they do not want the world to discover that they didn’t fire you despite what they had announced to ease the minds.
Nevertheless, you had agreed to pretend, and to play Fury’s little games, because you didn’t know what else to do. You have been a little lost since you left the team, and the missions you were regularly sent on were a good distraction, but it has been months now, and you do not have the energy to pretend anymore.
Once this mission is over, the first thing you are going to do is to tell the man that it is over, you are quitting — yeah, you are going to leave the agency, and start a new life. The idea sounds appealing, and warms you heart with an emotion you thought you had forgotten; a will to live. You have waited long enough. You are not sure what you are going to do yet, but you know that it will be better — anything would be better than your current life. It will be a second chance, and a real one this time. Maybe you will change your name, and your face, and so you could be anyone you want to be — someone that no one hates.
But, for now, the only thing you want is some rest. Slowly, your limbs become numb and, soon enough, you are not able to walk anymore, the ground disappears beneath your feet and you collapse into the snow, your legs unable to support the weight of your body.
Maybe that is your second chance, you thought. Maybe the afterlife will be gentle.
It is so tempting to just close your eyes, to let the cold soothe your pain, and take all your worries away. You don’t know how long you have been walking, wandering around, waiting for help that may never come — probably for days. Days that seemed like an eternity. You were trapped in a landscape that you would surely have found magnificent, had the circumstances of your presence here been different.
The snow falling from the sky covers everything, and not an ounce of greenery escapes it. Yet, the sight wasn’t comforting — it was threatening, and scary. It was so cold that you couldn’t feel your fingertips. Everything was white, and all looked the same, turning the forest into a maze with no way out. The trees rose up, mocking and oppressive, as if they were only waiting for the moment you would give up.
Be patient. It will be soon, you thought, as your body hit the ground in silence.
You hardly notice you’ve fallen. You don’t even have the strength to try and get up, but maybe you don’t want to. The snow forms a gentle embrace, and you feel it begin to cover you in white too. Soon, you are going to disappear, and you’ll become a part of the landscape — How is it going to take, for nature to hide your body, to make it seem like you have never been here? A few hours? And how long would it take for them to find you? Probably more time. Who is “them”, anyway? You are not sure someone is coming from you, and despite your hopes, it is more likely that they won’t come. Did you forget that you have no one? If people do not care enough to show up at your funerals, do you really think that they would go to the trouble of looking for you in the middle of nowhere? What an idiot you are, you should know, by now, that there is no hope.
No one is coming.
Even though the idea might sound sad, it brings a small smile to your face, as well as a weird sense of comfort — The peace you’ve been looking for is eventually within your reach. Soon, the world is going to forget your name, and your story. Maybe they won’t even know that you died here, alone in the woods, where no one can find your body.
You have tried to warn them about the situation. A last desperate plea for help to be sent, but you never found out if they got your message because your broken radio had died before they could confirm. Despite being an experienced agent, you have been caught out of guard by the situation — Should you wait for them here, or should you try to find a way back home on your own? The decision was made for you when the enemies started looking for you, there was no way you could escape them by staying in their base. Outside, you could hide more easily, and maybe even find a way out of here.
Yet, the days went by, and all you have done is get lost in the forest, a labyrinth made deadly by the snow and very low temperatures. There is no room for life in this place, and the fact that you survived for a few days is a miracle in itself.
You were perfectly aware of the risks when you accepted the mission. There are always high risks in this profession, and you were prepared to take them all, even the most irrational ones because nothing scared you — That’s your strength, you’ve never shied away from a mission. You knew that it wouldn’t go on forever, and that the risks you were taking would eventually lead to your demise — But who cares? Not you, nor Fury. Maybe it was exactly what you were both looking for-; the man wanted a soldier, and you wanted a way to die with dignity, which is exactly what he offered you.
And so, you accepted every mission he presented to you, worked on every file that was put on your desk without thinking twice about it. There was always a good reason to accept, many lives to save, and countless threats to the world, and for that, you were willing to take the risks that nobody else wanted to take. That’s what heroes do, right? They put their lives in line, for the sake of the population.
So far, you have done surprisingly well, successfully returning from each of your missions. Yet, you knew it was only a matter of time before you ran out of luck. Maybe your current situation is solely your fault, for thinking that you could keep pushing your limits indefinitely — For forgetting that you are not a hero, only human. The blood between your fingers is there to remind you of that. It is red, as the one of all the people who live on this planet, and you can pretend all you like that you are a hero, but you’ll never be able to escape your condition, that of being human.
Yet, there is something oddly comforting in watching your blood staining the snow. Something that cradles you until your eyes close, something that helps you accept your destiny. These bloodstains are the silent promise that peace will soon arrive, the peace you have waited patiently for for years.
— — —
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” the woman screamed, her voice echoing throughout the room. No one dared looking at her, everyone avoiding her gaze. The team had just returned from yet another search mission, one of their last hopes of finding you, only to inform her that they had lost track of you — Again.
The woman knows that she should not have listened to Clint when he told her that she’d better stay in the Quinjet and rest, something she has clearly been lacking in recent days. He even promised her that he would do his best. They all promised, but it was just lies.
Natasha has waited for them for hours, obviously unable to rest because she was so consumed with anxiety. She had walked the whole length of the Quinjet more times than she can count, waiting for their return. When they came back empty-handed, she was furious. Not only they didn’t find you, but above all they had lost the only hint of your presence that they had managed to find since the search began, almost a week ago.
If she had been with them, things would have been different. She would have found you, she is sure of it — because she would have refused to come back before that happened.
Everything now seemed hopeless, and everyone was aware of this. That probably explains why they are abiding her gaze, not to escape her anger, but because they do not want to witness the pain they could read in her eyes. The spy had always been good at hiding her emotions, and no one had ever been able to read her — even after you left, two years ago, she remained composed — but her mask had started to crack in the last few days, and everyone could now see her worries.
Natasha was the one who insisted for the Avengers to come for you, and although she insists that this decision is only motivated by her duty, everyone knows there is more to it than that — Feelings that the years had not erased, strong ones that she had buried, but which were resurfacing since she learned that you were in danger. You are her weakness, you are the only one that can make her lose her temper that easily, it is as if she was suddenly a child again — One with emotions too big for his understanding. It is like two years ago, when she saw the pictures and felt her heart being shattered.
“It is okay, I am sure that we are going to find her,” a voice raised, and it was Fury’s. The man was the only one to be brave enough to do such a thing, the only one who didn’t fear the redhead, even though he was the one who should be most wary. The man is standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, his arms crossed — They could have been talking about their next meal, and he would have had the same fucking attitude, she thought. “She is strong, and smart. I am sure she will find a way to survive, do not underestimate her, Romanoff,” he calmly added, but his disastrous attempt to calm the atmosphere has the opposite effect — All she wanted to do was to violently rip the expression on his face, she couldn’t stand the overconfidence she could read on it, and the calmness that didn’t fit with the seriousness of the situation.
“You know nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth, the only way she had found to not scream at him, “you are just trying to make yourself feel better about what’s happening because it is your fault. One of your agents is going to die, and it is all your fault!” she yelled the last sentence, unable to keep her voice low as she felt the rage building inside her. The man didn’t even care, he sees you as an asset, not as a human.
“She is an agent, Romanoff, and one of the best. It is her job to take risks, and she knew them before accepting the mission. This regrettable accident is no one’s fault,” he said, unimpressed by the redhead’s outburst.
“Oh, please!” she exclaimed with a bitter laugh, “this mission wasn’t risky, it was suicidal, and you are perfectly aware of that. No one in their right mind would have accepted it, but she was vulnerable, and you knew it, and took advantage of her state to get what you wanted!” she had moved closer, until she was almost spitting in his face, until the accusing finger she was pointing at him almost touched his chest. She knows the man and his tricks, she knows that he always finds a way to get what he wants. “I hope it was worth it because, if we don’t find her alive, I’ll make sure to bury you next to her grave,” she spitted, not even trying to hide her threat — No, not a threat. It was more than that, it was a promise.
Those are the last words she said before leaving the Quinjet.
They have been looking for you for days, and everyone is painfully aware that the chances of finding you are diminishing with every passing minute. Yet, the woman is not ready to stop, not until she has hugged you one last time, dead or alive. Looking for you was no easy task, and every clue they have found eventually led to a dead end — You are too skilled for your own good, she thought, and it was almost frustrating. If it wasn’t for your skills, and your ability to disappear without leaving a trace, they would have found you days ago. If it wasn’t for your skills, Fury would have never sent you on this mission alone, and he definitely wouldn’t have waited for so long before sending a rescue team.
The woman had to beg him, to scream, for him to accept to give in some pieces of information about how you were doing. He said that you were fine. He said that you were fine, but it was just a lie. He looked at her, promising that nothing would happen to you, but he only said that to get her out of his office. As she later learned, the man had no idea of how you were doing because it was a no-contact mission, and if you gave them news, it would only be to share bad ones.
She heard the message you sent, a plea for help playing on a loop in her mind. Despite the poor quality of the transmission, and the cut words that prevented them from understanding your situation clearly, she could feel your fear, one that made her blood run cold — The woman has never heard you being so scared before.
Fury has waited two days before sharing the message with her. He said that he was positive you would find a way out on your own, and it would be too risky to send a team there when they had no idea how the situation was, but she hadn’t listened to him. All the woman could see was how he almost ruined every chance to rescue you for some ego problems, and foolish confidence — Everyone knows that after two days the chances of finding a missing person alive are slim.
She hates him for that. She hates him for allowing you to die.
Or maybe it is herself that she hates, for letting you down years ago, when you needed her the most — If she hadn't, none of that would have happened, you wouldn’t have taken such risks in the hope of achieving some kind of redemption.
“What do you want?” she asked curtly to the person that was following her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was — Steve. In recent years, the man had developed the bad habit of following her wherever she went, convinced that she needed him.
“You forgot that,” he said, and she looked over her shoulder at the jacket in his hands. A wry smile appeared on her lips at the sight of the garment.
“Because I don’t need it,” she sighed, her tone as cold as the forest because of how exasperated she was by the way the man was trying to play hero. Maybe he was one for the rest of the world, but the woman definitely didn’t need to be saved, and especially not by a man that is convinced he knows everything better than everyone else.
“And, how exactly, do you expect to be able to help her if you are freezing to death?” He asked, trying to coax her into taking the jacket — But only someone who doesn’t know her well could imagine having any chance of convincing the woman.
“Did you forget where I am from, Roger?” She asked back, stopping in her tracks to face him, the sudden act surprising the man who almost ran into her, “If you are cold, then you can go back to the jet. No one asked you to follow me. So now, shut up or leave me alone,” she warned him before resuming her journey, the man at her heels. Natasha wasn’t walking in the forest for pleasure, and she couldn’t afford any distraction.
The woman has to concentrate to make sure she doesn’t miss any traces of your presence. These are rare, almost imperceptible, and easily hidden by the snow. She needs to be sure that she won’t miss anything, and that is something she can’t do if the centenarian doesn’t stop rambling in her ears.
Fortunately, the message seems to have got through because not a word was spoken for the next hours, and the two Avengers just walked in silence. Only the snow crunching under their feet broke the heavy silence. It had been hours, and the landscape didn’t seem to change, giving the impression that they were walking in place, or that they were going in circles. No matter where her eyes landed, all she could see were snow-covered trees, but that was until she spotted it. It was almost invisible, but there was no way she was going to miss the only thing that wasn’t white in the landscape — A red stop. A spot of blood, probably caused by a few drops, but that was leading to a trail staining the forest’s perfect white coat.
“Wait! Where are you going?” the man exclaimed when he noticed that his partner had run off, but he got no answer. His eyes weren’t as sharp as hers, and so he didn’t notice the stains straight away.
When he finally catches up with the woman, he was so taken aback by the scene that he was unable to move, or speak. It was so unexpected that he felt like he was daydreaming, and wondered if it wasn’t the cold that was causing him to hallucinate.
There, a few meters away from him, the redhead was kneeling in the snow. She was close to a body whose identity was in no doubt — You. Suddenly, all he can see is the rigidity of your body, the bluish tint of your lips, the snow that is covering your face, but above all the scarlet puddle that is staining the snow, so big that no one could miss it.
“Give me the jacket,” she asked him, her tone firm despite the obvious tremor in her voice. Her eyes never leave you, even for a moment, perhaps because she was afraid that you would disappear, and that she would lose you, again. “Steve. The jacket,” she asked again, but more urgently this time, “give me the fucking jacket, and go get the others!” she repeated, and the shout seems to shake the man out of his torpor because he eventually hands her the jacket before running off, in the direction of the jet.
Natasha didn’t look back, but she heard his footsteps in the snow as he walked away. Now alone, she gently lifts your body, wrapping you in the jacket, and even pulling the hood down your face to protect you from the snow and wind. She can’t help but let her hands linger on your visage, her thumb gently tracing your features, then brushing past your now blue lips to eventually follow the wound on your cheek.
For a few seconds, she allows herself to get lost in the familiarity of your face, but the blood that is left on her thumb after she ran it over your cheek brings her back to reality — You are dying. Maybe you already are, dead. Yet, there is not much she can do before the arrival of the rest of the team, except praying to all the gods whose names she knows, even though she has never believed in them — Please, if you exist, it is the moment to do something good, she thought, and the woman was so deep in her thoughts, trying to keep the last shred of sanity she had, because the last thing you need is for her to lose her temper, that she missed it at first, those words that came out of your mouth.
“What?” she asked, a little abruptly, as her eyes fell on your face. Your expression hadn’t changed, your eyes were still closed, and so were your lips, giving the impression that she had imagined the whisper. “Did you say something?” She nevertheless asked, and several seconds passed in silence. She felt the hope that had made her heart beat being replaced by despair, until she notices the trembling of your lips as they try to come to life. At first, no sound escapes, only a whimper that breaks her heart. “Shh, it is okay, take your time, baby. You can do it,” she quietly encouraged you as she noticed your struggles.
Her hands cup your face, and the warmth of the contact, accompanied by the circles her thumbs are tracing on your cheeks, is comforting. It helps you to ignore the pain for a moment. The gesture even gave you the strength to talk.
“You..,” you started, but this simple word requires so much effort that you need to catch your breath before continuing. “ ..came..,” you eventually added, the second word coming out as a broken whisper, and the woman has to be close if she wants to understand what you are saying.
“Yes!” She exclaimed, “yes, I did. W- We are all here, baby,” she softly replied, her voice trembling slightly because of emotion, just like her hands as she continued cradling your face.
They are here? All of them? You thought, and the realization brings tears to your eyes. The woman can also feel tears welling up in her eyes, and you can see them. Yet, she should not cry. She has no right to cry when you need her to be strong and calm your fears. The woman knows it and yet, she can’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. For so long, she had hoped to see you again, prayed for a second chance even though she knew she didn’t deserve it, but she hadn’t imagined that life could be cruel enough to offer her what she most wanted under the worst circumstances — Once again, she was about to lose the most important person in her life.
“Is.. that.. end.. ?” You painfully asked the woman.
You have once heard a belief saying that the Angel in charge of helping a soul to travel to the other side always takes the appearance of the person the deceased loved the most during their life. You wouldn’t have expected anyone but the redhead to be yours. You may have tried to hate her for years, but the truth is that you have been unable to stop loving the woman.
“Because..,” you continued, but were stopped by a violent coughing fit. “Am.. ready.. now..,” you eventually managed to say. You want nothing more than to touch her face one last time, but your body refuses to listen to your desire and, as you try to move your hand, all you manage to do is to wiggle your fingertips — But it is okay, you thought. You are content enough with being able to see her one last time, and knowing that her comforting touch is the last thing you would feel before Death wraps its arms around your body, taking you somewhere where pain does not exist.
“The.. end?” The woman repeated after you, a bit confused at your words, and you can tell because of how her eyebrows are knitted together. “Oh no, honey, it is not,” she whispered, trying to bring you a bit of comfort. “You are going to be fine, I promise,” she said, repeating those words a few times, unsure if they are really meant for you.
“I.. know.., I.. believe.. you..,” you whispered back.
“Then stay with me, baby, okay? Keep your eyes open for me, please. Just a few more minutes, and then everything will be fine, I promise. Do you think you can do that for me?” She started rambling when she noticed that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Yet, it doesn’t seem to work as she watches you slowly slip into unconsciousness. “Tell me, love, where does it hurt? Could you do that for me?” She attempted, hoping that the question would be enough to ground you, to keep you here, with her, until the others arrive.
“Everywhere..,” you whispered, and it was the last thing you said. You were in so much pain that your whole body was numb, and you could barely feel something, unable to tell the difference between your arms and legs.
You are not sure what happened next, or how long it was before the rest of the team arrived, because despite Natasha’s attempts to encourage you to stay awake, you ended up losing consciousness. The last thing you were aware of was the sound of a vehicle, along with a few words that were yelled, and even if you couldn’t understand what they were saying, you were able to grasp the urgency in their tones. The last thing you remember was being lifted. That is when you knew you could do, before the arms that were carrying you were comforting, they were the promise that everything would be fine now.
After all, she promised. Didn’t she?
— — —
It was all a lie, when she promised that things would be okay now.
Since the very moment you have opened your eyes, after a few days spent in a coma, the world has been nothing but pain. She had promised you a world where suffering doesn’t exist, but had given you the exact opposite, every day being worse than the one that preceded it. Your wounds won’t heal, and despite the weeks that had passed, you were unable to walk properly, or anything without help. Every step you make, every breath you take, are the reminders of what was taken from you.
You had wished for Death. You had waited for the moment you could leave this world almost impatiently, but when the time eventually came, you were brutally ripped from Its arms. When the woman wrapped her arms around you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, whispering the promise that everything would be fine now, you naively believed her. It is not before it was too late that you realized your mistake. You have thought that the woman you saw was your angel, but it has only been Natasha, a human, with her flaws and mysteries.
Why did she even decide to come?
The question has not left your mind since you opened your eyes. It raises a feeling of confusion, and anger, because there is no explanation you could think of that would make a bit of sense.
You have not talked since they brought you there, at the compound. It is a place that you’ve never thought you would ever see again, but mostly a place you never wanted to return to. At first, they thought that you just needed a bit of time to adapt, but the days soon became weeks, and you remained locked in your silence despite their many attempts to encourage you to say a few words. The only sounds they have heard coming from you are the whimpers of pain that sometimes fall past your lips.
Natasha has tried to speak to you, but you would always ignore her questions and ramblings. Yet, it has never stopped her from trying. Even though she is not sure that you can hear her, even though whenever she enters your room, she finds you looking out of the window, staring blankly. The woman had stopped closing the shutters a while ago, so you would always have something to look at, but you probably didn’t even notice the difference. It seems that your mind is somewhere else, somewhere she can’t reach.
You are far from here, from this room you hate with your whole heart but that you can’t leave despite your desires. A room that is not yours, and certainly not home despite what they may say, and you would rather be anywhere else, even if it means locking yourself in your thoughts.
It is something they would have known if they had asked you, but apparently they didn’t think to ask for your opinion when deciding your future. The Avengers Tower is quiet, and comfortable. Somewhere you are familiar with, and where you would be able to get the care you need — The perfect place. The only place. You have no family, no friends, that could have agreed to take care of you until you are back on your feet. The Avengers may not be your family anymore, but they are the only ones who have agreed to bear this responsibility — Or most likely they felt like they had to. You probably want to be here as much as they want you to be there, and you know that they are silently praying that you will go away soon. You are the constant reminder of what they want to forget.
And so, you have slowly found comfort in your own mind. The only place where they can’t bother you, where suffering and time does not exist. Except that, as the days go by, it gets harder to ignore the woman. She is the only one who has never given up, always trying to talk to you when she comes to your room, even though you have never replied once. Whenever she comes to bring your meal, or your medicine, or help you to change, she would stay a bit longer, rambling about anything that comes to her mind — And you hate it. You don’t care about her last mission, nor do you care about the last movie she has seen.
When she is here, time seems to flow slowly, minutes becoming a painful eternity. You wish the woman would understand your silence as the sign that you don’t want to talk, but it is apparently not a sufficient clue because she has never stopped talking.
The last thing you want is to get out of your caparace, because you don’t want to see what is outside, but it becomes almost impossible to ignore the world when the woman keeps invading your bubble. Her voice, her soft touches,.. they held a new promise — Everything will be fine, she continues saying, but now you know it is not true. You have fallen for her lies one time, and promised to yourself that you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. These touches didn’t bring you any comfort, only frustration which then turned into anger. You have felt it boiling inside you for days now — Until you couldn’t bear it any more.
“Why?” You whispered. The woman was helping you to put on clean pyjamas, and you think she was rambling about her day when you cut her off with your question.
You are not sure why you have decided to talk that day. You are not even sure that it was your decision, the broken whisper falling past your lips before you could realize what was happening. You wish you could take back your word, but it was too late. The woman was as surprised as you were, judging by the expression on her face. Her lips are moving, but it is her turn to be at a loss of words.
Somehow, the hesitation you could read on her face made yours disappear instantaneously. Suddenly, you didn’t want to stay silent anymore. You wanted to be heard, to get the anger out of your body because you couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.
“Why?!” You repeated, but this time you yelled the question. At least, it was the intention, but after so much time without talking, the word was nothing like a scream, only a strangled cry. Yet, despite your voice being weak, you realized that you didn’t want to stay quiet anymore — Not now, when you just got it back. Not when there are so many things you want to say, to scream in their faces.
“Why what?” She softly asked, stopping what she was doing for a second. Her hands were resting on your knees as she was talking. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, and had to lower your head a little to meet her eyes. Yet, she doesn’t dare to hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.
You scoff when she looks away, doing the same thing as you can feel tears coming in your eyes. She must not see them. “Playing games, are we?” You said back. Your tone is venomous, your words rude, and meant to hurt the woman, even though she took care of you the past few weeks.
It may sound unfair to treat the woman after all she has done for you — After she saved your life. Yet, she is still the one who dumped you years ago, the one who broke your heart, ruined your life, and made promises she couldn’t keep. The truth is that, if you can’t handle her presence, it is because you know that you don’t want her to be really gone — You shouldn’t, but you want more of it, more of her and her reassuring presence. Her sudden gentleness, after she pushed you away so violently, is building your hopes back up. A feeling that is painful when you know that they would never become a reality.
“Listen,.. I-,” she sighed, but before she could find the right words to answer your questions, you cut her, again. You already had enough, wanting this conversation to end, and now.
“If you can’t give me an honest answer, then I don’t want to listen to you,” you abruptly said, warning the woman that she should carefully choose her next words.
The woman may want to say something, but when she opens her lips, no sound comes out — Because she has no idea what to say. The truth is that Natasha is as confused as you are, the same unanswered questions occupying her mind. She doesn’t know why she went after you, and the lack of response keeps her awake at night.
The woman simply knew that she needed to be there, that her place was by your side, and no word was strong enough to describe how worried she had been about you all this time, a feeling that has lingered inside her since you left. She pretended not to care, tried to bury these feelings as she had been raised to do, but it never really left.
You had poisoned her soul, her heart.
But you know. You already know the answers to your questions, you only asked because you wanted to hear them from her mouth. You want her to admit that her actions were only guided by her guilt, not by the love she pretends to bear for you, because that is the only way you would be able to get rid of the painful hope that, maybe, things could go back to the way they used to be.
But obviously she wouldn’t say that.
The great Natasha Romanoff would never admit that she is selfish, and imperfect.
That she is far from the hero everyone thinks she is.
“Get. out,” you eventually asked the woman. She has hesitated, and missed her chance to say something. “GET OUT,” you yelled when you noticed she was about to protest, “LEAVE ME ALONE,” you added, pushing the woman who was kneeling in front of you with all your strength. When she didn’t budge, it only added to your distress.
For once, she listened to you, and left the room. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and just like that you found yourself plunged into the silence you’ve been longing for — Yet, it didn’t feel as comforting as you expected it to be.
Somehow, since that day, you have only felt worse. Since you have found your voice again, you only used it to express your anger, yelling at anyone trying to get into your room. It has been several days now, that your cries have been echoing in the tower, making it clear that you wanted to be left alone. If the past few weeks you have been bearing Natasha’s presence, it wasn’t the case anymore, and now the woman couldn’t even do something as simple as knocking at your door without you screaming. You do not want to see, hear, or feel her — Even the mere thought of the redhead was too much.
All of them had tried to step in your room, convinced they would be the one able to calm you down, but everything they achieved was to worsen the situation. Eventually, they stopped coming, giving you the loneliness you thought you wanted — Then why are not feeling better, now that you have what you asked for?
You are torn apart by contradictory feelings and needs, unable to quite understand what is going on in your mind — It is obvious that you don’t want to see Natasha. And yet, everytime someone other than the woman opened this door, you felt disappointment filling your heart. Maybe that is why you yelled, why you were so angry.
When they eventually stopped knocking at your door, you caught yourself hoping for them to come back. Your days are now an endless succession of hopes, built up at every sound of footsteps in the corridor, and disappointments, when you eventually hear them going away. She has proven you right, you thought. She has proven to you that she doesn’t care, and you have used up all your tears crying over this idea, days and nights.
You wish you hadn’t said those things, that you hadn’t screamed at the woman, because you were now missing her presence. Her gentleness may have been annoying, but it has been so long since the last time someone has been this gentle with you, that now it was gone, you were craving to get it back. She gave you a second chance, and you have thrown it away for what? Nothing.
It took a few days before you eventually decided to leave your room. It was not by choice, obviously, and you only agreed to leave the comfort of your bed because of the hunger that was slowly gnawing at your insides. The last meal you got was the same day as the last time you saw Natasha, and you knew you couldn’t go much longer without eating. At first, you told yourself you would endure the pain, that you deserved it for what you did to the woman, but it didn’t make it more bearable, and you eventually gave in.
The plan you made in your mind was easy — Waiting for the night to come, make sure that no one is awake, and then quickly getting down to the kitchen. Only a few minutes, only time to grab some snacks before making it back to the comfort of your room. Yet, you should have known that things never go as they are meant to.
The journey to the kitchen was everything but easy. You have probably been a bit too optimistic about your ability to walk when you thought about your plan. The pain in your leg was so intense that you were only able to take a few steps before collapsing, and had to almost drag yourself down there. Every step felt like running miles, leaving you short of breath. And yet, despite all your efforts, despite your strong will, you were eventually forced to give up when your legs have once again shifted under your weight, leaving you on the ground, unable to get up despite your attempts.
When even crawling felt too demanding, you were left with no choices but to wait for someone to rescue you. Suddenly, you were submerged by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, and shame, that only worsened when you heard footsteps. You didn’t say anything, and only closed your eyes, hiding your tears behind your eyelids. You were softly praying that whoever is here would ignore your limp figure, scattered on the living-room’s floor, and do whatever they came here for as if you weren’t here.
“Oh sweetie, no.. I won’t do that,” a feminine voice softly said, and you immediately recognize it as Wanda’s. It holds a gentleness that is unique.
Your suspicions are confirmed a moment later, when the woman kneels beside you. For a second, you thought about pushing her away, especially when her hand brushes your hair out of your face. The witch is aware of that, but she also knows that, deep down, behind the walls that you’ve built to protect yourself, you were craving for her attention. That’s why the woman didn’t remove her hand right away, a sad smile stretching her lips when she realized how you were leaning into her touch.
“Are you hungry?” She eventually asked, and you opened your eyes, a bit surprised by the sudden question. You blink, twice, unable to give the woman a verbal answer — But she doesn’t need one. She is perfectly aware of why you came downstairs, and she doesn’t need to use her mind-reading abilities to know that, already aware of how you have been refusing to eat anything for the past few days. “Good,” she whispered, careful with her words. She couldn’t risk you shutting down, again. “Because I was cooking, but did way too much for one person,” she explained, smiling.
It is a lie, and you both are aware of that.
It is past midnight, and the woman was probably just looking for some water. She definitely wasn’t cooking, and is probably not even hungry, but she knows that this innocent lie would help you to feel less guilty. The woman knows how stubborn you can be, and how you would probably have refused if she had proposed to cook you a meal, scared of wasting her time. Yet, she couldn’t let you go back to your room with only a snack. You need energy, if you want to get back on your feet as soon as possible.
“Come here,” she said when you hesitantly nodded, “let me help you,” she added, and you didn’t protest when the woman wrapped her arms around you — Her embrace was soft, and comforting.
“I got you,” she whispered in your mind, “everything will be fine now,” and, this time, the words felt true. It has been a long time since you felt as safe as you did in the Witch’s arms, the woman being the only one who has never treated you differently, or hated you for what happened years ago. She was the hope that things could work out.
THE END. —
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).
| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @liasxeatt, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.
#a spes writing#devious lies#marvel cinematic universe#marvel fanfiction#marvel writer#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff writing#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff x reader#reader insert#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff comfort#angst writing#no happy ending#angst no comfort#black widow#black widow x reader#avengers#avengers fanfiction#avengers x reader#avengers angst
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Ok i said i would do itater, but this was done for my sister who got really hurt and wanted comfort out of my drabble, shout out to you @saltynsassy31 XD
This will probably be very OOC bc again, i am NOT too acquainted with these characters
So apologies in advance, but i think this will still be very entertaining for you :]
So yeah, here's part 2!
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Jazz was tired, they haven't given him much time to rest since he came back. And even if they did, it's not like he could rest anyways, thinking about....about Prowl.
No way he could have just left him, right? After everything....it just didn't feel right, and the way they spoke to him about it too. Call him crazy but something in his gut told him they were hiding something from him. But it just never seemed enough to push him to look into it (oh how he would regret that for the rest of his life)
Today was supposed to be a normal routine check to the new mechas, with new recruits coming in for him to teach.
Jazz was given a new mecha suit, despite his protests to it (which surprised even him honestly, but it just didn't feel right). He hadn't gotten the chance to see it yet, today was the day they would present the new model, though it was said to be in its early stages still.
...
He doesn't know how it happened, how he'd gotten here, but all he knew was that he had seen red. When he gotten to see his new mech suit, it seemed oddly familiar in touch, in fact something about it made him feel sick to his stomach.
Small dents and scarring coated the plating around the panels that opened to the cockpit. He recognised that plating, from crawling on it with his magnets, sleeping on them comfortably despite being made of metal (there was something so warm about it, but that warmth was....lost. He wanted to puke). But what broke the string holding him together, a scar, a scar so familiar it sent him back to the exact moment he witnessed his partner getting it in the first place.
Jazz had weilded that shut himself, they had gotten in a bad scuffle a while back, and with worry he wanted to try and make sure Prowl wouldn't be in too much pain before they could get some proper help.
"Jazz?" Someone called out to him. That was the last thing he remembered.
Now? Now he stood by the halls in which they didn't allow the likes of him inside, the halls in which the scientists worked on. He made a fast dash to the last room, the room one of the scientists told him had the one he was looking for (though he wasn't proud to admit he had perhaps aggressively gotten that answer out of the poor guy). He had a weird unknown blaster weapon with him that he had ripped from the mech suit he was supposed to try out (deep down, he hoped that weapon didn't belong to Prowl. He hoped that he wasn't too late), using that, he blasted the door open hoping that would keep anyone from stopping him from getting inside.
As soon as Jazz layed his eyes on the scene before him; his partner hanging from wires holding him into place, chain keeping him from leaving, mutilated almost beyong recognition save his face, and with a small weak staticked cry from his partner, "Jazz?" the small bit of awarness he had gained back was gone again. All he could do in that moment was to yell, a desperate cry that came from the pits of his lungs.
"GET AWAY FROM MY PARTNER!"
And in another flurry of motions he didn’t have complete control over, he was beating the ever living hell out of the prick who decided it was a good idea to mess with HIS partner! He didn’t even know how long he had been at it until the twisted man he called a boss scratched his face, small bits of blood flowing out. In shock and pain, he grabbed the man by the neck of his shirt and threw him to the otherside of the room. Once he was certain that he wouldn't be getting up again, he turned to face Prowl once more, running and calling out to him as he ran to scoop up his beloved's face, blurting out a mess of an apology.
"I'm so sorry, i shouldn't have brought you here- we, we need to get you out-"
Oh did the guilt eat him up from the inside, he- he shouldn't have brought him here. Prowl probably hated him right now, but the sudden distant bell of an alarm down the halls had him scrambling to his feet to try and make things right.
Suddenly, as adrenaline slowly faded off, he realised how much damage he had actually taken throughout his rampage, a limp on his left leg catching up to him. Stinging pain on his face and limbs, but he needed to keep moving, they weren't safe yet.
"I have to get you to a safe place," he mumbled, mostly to himself, "and- and then maybe call for help. Oh but who could i even go to?" As he spoke, he started to set Prowl's limbs free from it's chains, gods they were so damaged, he could barely look at the missing parts. But as he worked his way through, he let out small sighs of relief to see that at least, he seemed to not be missing some vital parts. He could still maybe make a run for it, if only he could stall the facility long enough-
"You really shouldn't have...."
Jazz turned in shock, Prowl's voice snapping him out of his panicked haze.
"Prowl..." if he wasn’t crying already, now he certainly was. Gods he fucked up badly.
Not having the courage to face the other just yet, he turned back to the chained leg he had been working on. Prowl didn't seem to have wanted an answer either way, sitting up as he watched the organic do his work (Jazz tried to ignore the missing arm).
As he finished getting rid of the chain, he got up again, letting out a hiss of pain from his injuries (which did not go unnoticed by the mech). Clutching his left side as a bleeding cut let out a terrible stinging sensation which he doesn't think he'll ever get used to, he walked over to the final limb stuck under chains. As he walked over, he briefed over the quick plan he thought of
"Look, i- i know you might not trust me right now-" a huff, almost soundling like a disbeliefing chuckle, was heard from the mech, Jazz ignored it. "But there is a place you can go to and hide, hide- hide until maybe i can get help or- or find a way to send you back-"
"You wouldn't make it that far." Prowl spoke, matter of factly, which got a hit under Jazz's skin
"I know that! Which is why you will make a run for it. There's an exit by the other side of this room where you can leave-"
A sudden realisation hit Prowl. Jazz wasn't planning on coming with him.
And the human nodded, seeming to understand that Prowl finally got what he was saying. As he reached the last final screw to Prowl's chains, he finished off what he was trying to say "I'll keep them busy long enough for you to leave," before he could finish, as the final screw was let lose and Prowl was free to move, he felt himself be lift up from the ground and let out a startled yelp. "Wha- HEY!"
It took Jazz being shoved inside Prowl's cockpit for him to realise that he had been picked up by the mech (maybe a possible concussion he thought to himself). Jazz couldn't even try to jump out as, despite it missing the plating to shut him inside, Prowl placed his servo up to close to exit.
Desperately and confused, Jazz called out, "What are you doing?!"
To be entirely honest, Prowl wasn't sure himself, he was just as confused as the human to his actions, usually so full of logic. This one was acted apon pure emotion. Emotion of fear, anxiety, anger but most importantly
Desperation
Because somehow, this stupid human had his spark between his fingers, and he'd be dammed if he let him get himself killed just for him.
This isn't how he would want to say goodbye
---
Thanks again, to my sister who pushed me to write this, and also helped out in some parts!
Might have done more if i could, but it's super late rn lol (it's 4am and our mon will kills us for staying up this late).
Again sorry for any OOC moments, but i hope this was to your enjoyment! Maybe i can do a part 3 to this, but idk enough about how things work to do that, so i let anyone be free to mess around with this :]
Oh my... oh fuck I can't. I just keep thinking about Prowl pressing his palm on his chest even when other humans eventually get to him and start shooting. He's a mess, half of his armor is missing he's probably leaving an energon trail behind him. But he knows that while it would take a lot of bullets to take him down, it would take only one lucky bullet to kill Jazz. I'm. AUGh
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Your wish is my command mr. Freaky profile picture @thespectacularsunnyd (nah but fr your pfp makes me feel...... well it makes me feel something alright but it's not pleasant /silly)
Dream doesn't know rest.
He's been brought back after 494 years right into a war against his brother who is now a multiverse known villain, Dream has emotional development of a literal 6 year old with experience in life FOR ONLY 6 YEARS. IN CANON THE APPLE INCIDENT HAPPENED WHEN THEY WERE 6!!! In my headcanon I spread it out to 16 but the canon version adds more to his tragedy. He's under constant pressure to keep everyone happy, pressured to keep his cheerful persona, he's always stressed, there is always something to do, there is always someone in need of help. When he's given rest he can't sit still, he gets nervous because it's weird for him to not be in a never ending rush or actively helping someone. At one moment his and his friends' lives are threatened and later he has to go around and cheer everyone up like nothing's happened and then he has to clean up Nightmare's mess and then he has to pretend to be 100% positive because everyone depends on him and then he has to plan to stop his brother and then actually execute it and again he fights for his life while still holding onto the hope the Nightmare he knew is somehow still in there somewhere and he has to save him too. He doesn't only blame Nightmare or villagers from dreamtale but also himself, so that adds to the stress of feeling like he has to make up for what he didn't do, feeling like he wasn't helpful enough, sure he helped the villagers but what good did it do when he "ignored" his brother and they died in the end?
This also brings in the topic of how the villagers treated him or rather exploited him for his positivity or overally helpful nature. Both him and Nightmare were taught from the very beginning that their own feelings and needs don't matter, they were assigned roles they have to stick to and it's their fault if they crack. As any golden child a lot was and is expected from Dream and as any high achiever the price he has to pay is constant burnout from overworking himself to do better, be better
It would be common for him to start shaking, rattling his bones, fidgeting with his fingers, scratching his arms, I also think he would pick up smoking, he knows it sets a bad example, not like it's any harm to him specifically, but it calms him down so he often smokes when no one's looking. It also links to his endless feeling of being watched, either by the enemy or literally anyone and he's afraid to show any negativity not to break any poor soul's view on him.
All these feelings bottling up inside also give me a feeling he would often get mad at less important stuff or break down at little inconveniences not because it actually botheres him that much but just because he has to let out all that stress somehow so anger issues Dream? Count me in. I can imagine him either starting to scream at Ink or Swap or hyperventilating to the point of almost passing out.
Another point leading from that. He's an emotional hypocrite. He is the type of person to try his best to only show his good side, never cry in front of someone, never be negative, put his feelings aside for the sake of others but he goes around cheering up everyone and telling them they can cry and no one will judge them, that keeping it inside only makes it worse ect.
Also Dream absolutely smokes weed /hj
Maybe I'll add more later tell me what yall think gang
🌙"Stressful nights"✨
I think Dream would smoke a lot, he has so many responsibilities and pressure put on him he would try anything to feel better even for a little while...
#undertale au#undertale#sans au#utau#utmv#dream sans#dreamtale#nightmare sans#infodump#more like info dumb#Dream is pathetic but it's not his fault#let's give him a little kiss#muah :* for the little prince#oh but don't get me started on Nightmare and how he was literally named Nightmare just because it was the opposite of dream#Nim never fucking liked that guy huh💀💀💀#angst
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hey i wanted to request soft promt 37 with lando... idk its just really lando coded
i love you forever for sending me f1 prompts!! 💜 and it IS lando coded, thank you for requesting and i hope you'll like it!
fluff prompt: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'
lando adjusts his jacket for the third time, ignoring carlos and his pointedly amused stare. he obviously has it easy - his girlfriend is right next to him and they both are sickeningly in love with each other, so it's not like he has to woo her with his appereance. unlike lando, who is very much single and has a job to woo you with his appereance. shit, does he have time to go back and change?
'cabron, you're overthinking this,' carlos says in attempt to calm him down. 'you look fine, i promise i wouldn't have set you up on a double date if i weren't sure that she likes you back.'
just the thought that carlos might be right, that you actually might lando back is enough to perk him up. carlos is not that cruel to joke about stuff like this and lando is...well, hopeful. his hope rise further when rebecca softly says that you two would make a great couple. he honestly can't agree more; his imagination painted that picture too many times in his mind of you two being together. god, you'd be so good to each other, he knows. he knows all of this, so he has no idea why he starts acting like an idiot when you turn up.
'this looks suspiciously like a double date from the outside,' you murmur, sliding up to the booth next to him, watching as carlos and rebecca argue about the drinks.
you look beautiful. stunning, really. which is what he is supposed to say but instead what comes from his mouth is: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'
lando is ready to hit his head on the table, but then you laugh and oh. he is okay with being an idiot if it makes you laugh like that. he likes your laugh, like your smile. lando likes so many things about you, it's getting ridicilous how he has such a hard time articulating all of it to you.
'you two look cute,' carlos comments offhandedly.
'oh, do we?' you ask, turning to lando, smiling. 'not as cute as you two though.'
'we are cuter than them.' lando argues, when food arrives. 'how can you lie to them?'
he likes making you laugh. lando is sure that he looks like a lovesick puppy, but my god, if making you laugh was a job, he'd apply for it and stay in this position for as long as you'll have him. your eyes shine bright when you turn to him, sitting as close as this little booth allows you to. 'that's very confident,' you comment, chuckling. 'but we gotta let them win this one, lan. they are together, afterall.'
lando blinks. he can be such an idiot, but he surely can't miss this chance, right? 'then we should get together too,' he says quietly even though both carlos and rebecca are busy slow dancing on the dance floor. 'so we can win this argument.'
there's a pause when you try to gauge his reaction, to understand whether he's being real or not. lando just stares at you with all of the emotions written clearly on his face for you to see. 'just for the sake of winning this argument?' you ask at last, more serious but still smiling.
'for winning this life.' lando lets out and cringes at the same second, making you howl with laughter.
'oh my god, that was horrible!' you squeak, leaning on him, laughing.
'i can't believe i said that as well,' lando mutters, shy, but happily wrapping one arm around your shoulders. 'cringed so hard.'
'okay, lando norris.' you lean back, still laughing. 'okay. am i correct in assumption that you imply us being together will mean that we're winning this life?' lando nods, biting his lower lip. you smile softly, taking his hand in yours. 'i agree, then.'
lando fears his heart stopped. 'yeah?'
you lean in, brushing his nose with his. 'yeah.'
nevermind, his heart is fine. it's beating again, stronger than ever.
a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#lando norris#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#f1 prompt#I LOVE WRITING FOR MY FAV BOY
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thinking about toxic situationship!heeseung :(
you’re by far his favorite out of all the girls he fucks but he’s too cocky to let you know that. in the back of your mind, though, you know. you can’t imagine that he takes his other girls out for late night ramen or lets them sit on his lap and watch him play video games.
you can’t imagine he’s as gentle and sweet during aftercare with anyone else. in fact, you really hope he isn’t. you hope he kicks out all the other girls he sleeps with as soon as he’s done with them. you hope that he doesn’t let them spend the night like he does with you, even going as far as to make you breakfast or take you out the next day.
every time he’s with another girl, he can’t stop thinking about fucking annoying they are and can’t help himself from comparing them to you. he knows you would be so much better: better at sucking his dick, better at riding him, just your pussy in general was better.
he’d text you when he was hanging out with other girls, not even waiting for them to leave the room but doing it right next to them. he didn’t care if they could see, even when he was texting you about how bad they were and how he wished he were with you instead.
heeseung: this blows
y/n: whys that?
heeseung: bc she isn’t you baby
y/n: you could always leave and come over :)
heeseung: aww my girl wants me to ditch this chick and come fuck her instead? is that what you want, little princess?
y/n: fuck hee…please :(
he could not say no to you. 10 minutes later and he’s ditched the random girl he was with and was instead pounding you into your mattress, grunting loudly as you clenched around him.
“fuck yeah, baby,” he moaned, hips drilling into you. “you’re such a good girl. so much fucking better than anyone else.”
and you took it so well, eating up every last word.
he also loved that you didn’t talk to any other guys. you just wanted him and only him so, so badly, and maybe if he did relationships, he would choose you to be his girlfriend. but, he didn’t date and he made sure you were aware of that from the start your situationship. but the point was, he loved that you were still loyal to him, not even wanting to talk to another guy because they just weren’t heeseung. no one did it like him.
no one ate you out until you were squirting everywhere and shaking like he did. no one fucked you until your eyes were rolling into the back of your head and drooling onto his sheets like he did. no one made you feel like passing out from intense pleasure like heeseung.
you liked him. you were probably in love with him. you hated knowing he saw other girls and he loved knowing it made you upset. he loved knowing that you liked him enough to get so jealous of other girls.
again, he would never tell you that he couldn’t give less of a shit about the other girls. in fact, he would purposely use them just to make you jealous, fucking them for the sole reason of knowing you would hate it. your jealousy was what got him off because it showed that you cared about him, that you wanted him all to yourself.
he thought about you every time he thrusted his cock inside another girl’s pussy. he thought about how much tighter you were than them. how much warmer, wetter, and more delicious you were.
heeseung liked you a lot too. he was also probably in love with you and he realized that when he was finishing on the tits of someone else and moaned out your name instead of theirs.
-
like sorry i just needed to get this off my chest bc heeseung is FUCKING WITH ME TODAY!!
anyway how are y’all? :3
#enhypen#enhypen smut#enha smut#enha x reader#enhypen x reader#kpop smut#heeseung smut#heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung enha#enha heeseung#heeseung enhypen#enhypen heeseung#lee heesung x reader#lee heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#heeseung hard thoughts
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Paddock Bunny Series - 2
AN - So, I know I've been MIA but Friday and Saturday I have off so I'm hoping I can get a lot done in those days! Once I get started on the requests I'm sure they'll start flowing a lot easier again! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send in SMAU, text AU, and Fluff requests because I am genuinely stuck right now with those.
Drivers Included:
Oscar Piastri x Lily Zneimer x reader (Lily on FT)
Charles Leclerc x reader
TW - Phone sex, oral (m and f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, protected sex
WC - 4.7K
Y/N POV
"Driver's room 15 minutes"
I see a text saying from Oscar making m
e smirk slightly. The Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix wrapped up about an hour ago and seeing Oscar moving through the garage before going into the media pen I knew he was upset with losing 2 places during the race.
While about half of the grid knows about what happened between Lando, Carlos and I, Charles has been the only new driver to be bold enough to invite me over until now.
Once the 15 minutes of socializing with some of the engineers is up I slowly make my way to where both the drivers rooms are. When Lando sees me in the hallways he sends me a quick smirk.
"Oscar actually listened to me?" Lando says when I pass him going to the door with 81 on the front.
"You suggested me to him?" I ask a little surprised not thinking Lando would be the one to start encouraging other drivers.
"Only him and only today. He was upset with his results. He needed a pick me up and I knew if I didn't encourage him he would absolutely never message you," Lando replies back making me laugh softly and shake my head.
"Stop talking about me like I can't do anything for myself," Oscar says while opening the door and looking at Lando.
Lando doesn't get another word in before Oscar's hand is wrapped around my wrist while he pulls me into his drivers room before closing the door and locking it so no one can disturb us.
"Oscar, I don't mean to kill the mood before it's even been set but what about Lily?" I ask softly. I knew he was in a long term relationship and I be damned if I'm the reason they split.
"She knows. I told her before I even texted you," Oscar replies back making a me cock my head to the side a bit surprised.
"She said you're my only pass, even joked that she wants to join next time. But if I'm honest I don't think it was a joke, I know she has a massive girl crush on you," Oscar says with a slight laugh falling from his lips but leaving me slightly shocked. It had never once been a secret that I was bi sexual but I thought one of the wags would even know who I was.
"Well, maybe if she really wants that maybe we could set it up," I say with a soft shrug of my shoulders before walking towards Oscar and softly placing my hands around his neck and pulling him closer making his breath hitch slightly.
"Fuck," Oscar gasps slightly when my words sink in making me smirk slightly.
"What do you want today?" I ask softly while looking up at him making him look down and stare at my lips before he crashes his down on mine making me moan out in shock.
I feel Oscar's hands trail down to my waist where he squeezes my hips slightly making me moan which he takes advantage of by slipping his tongue into my mouth letting me taste him.
I feel Oscar slowly moving up towards the small hard couch where he slowly sits down pulling me towards him and into his lap forcing me to straddle around his waist.
Oscar was still in his racing suit and with his hanging around his waist it wasn't hard to push them down enough to reach into his fireproofs and briefs to fetch out his already throbbing cock.
"Shit," Oscar hisses when my fingers firmly wrap around his cock and slowly start jerking him off. He was girthy as fuck and I knew it was gonna make me a few extra seconds to fully wrap my lips around my cock but I don't waist time getting onto my knees in front of Oscar.
"What are- fuck," Oscar starts talking but is quickly cut off when I take a slow lick from the base of his cock to his leaking tip before I slowly start wrapping my lips around his cock and try to relax my jaw enough to take more of his cock.
Once my mouth is as stuffed as I can get it I look up to find Oscar already staring down at me with wide eyes. I slowly start pulling off his cock making Oscar throw his head back with a moan.
"Sorry I can't take more," I admit softly once I've pulled back making Oscar look down at me with a stunned look.
"I don't give a fuck," Oscar says seriously before his hands are tangled in my hair once again pushing me towards his cock.
Once my lips are wrapped around his cock I start bobbing my head on his cock making a chorus of moans leave Oscar's mouth.
Learning different things about each of the boys might become my favorite thing.
Lando is more submissive even if he tries to be dominant. I know the truth and I'm determined to get him to let me dominate him so he realizes how good it can be.
Carlos is dominant like no ones business. He has a big cock and knows how to use it properly. So far he's the adventurous one loving to try different positions, different places, anything he can do to switch it us he'll try it.
Charles, well he's just a sweetheart. I've only been with him once and he was more about my pleasure than his.
And now little Oscar, the baby of the paddock, is noisy. From the moment his lips touched mine little gasps and moans have not stopped.
I could tell Oscar was getting close which has me speeding up my actions slightly which has Oscar's hands gripping my hair hards and pushing me down even more making me gag slightly.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Oscar groans trying to pull me off his cock to not cum in my mouth but I seal my lips around his tip and use my tongue to tease him.
"Fuck, fuck fuck," Oscar chants between breathless moans before I feel a jet of cum hit the back of my throat before another and another filling my mouth up to the brim making me swallow still while he's cumming.
By the time he was finished cumming he had filled my mouth with his cum once again making me swallow again.
So not only was Oscar vocal he was also a cummer. Like a lot of cum.
"I didn't think you would swallow otherwise I would've given a warning about how much I cum," Oscar tells me with a blush creeping up on his cheeks clearly slightly embarrassed.
"Oscar, that was the hottest thing ever! Please do not feel bad," I tells him softly while climbing back into his lap.
"Are you sure?" He asks while running his hands up and down my back softly. I just nod my head and place a soft kiss on his cheek making Oscar take my chin in one of his hands and softly pulling me down for a kiss.
"I wanna repay the favor," Oscar softly mumbles against my lips making me smile softly and nod.
As Oscar's lips start trailing down my neck I hear his phone go off making him throw his head back with a groan before reaching over to silence it before we both see Lily's bright smile lighting up on screen. I can tell her contact picture is older because of how young she looks but she's got the same wide smile.
"Answer it," I tell him softly starting to climb off his lap making him tighten his grip on my hip keeping me from getting up.
"Hey, love," Oscar smiles into the camera.
"Hi! Just wanted to see how it went with Y/N?" Lily asks with a clear giddiness in her voice, excited to hear about what happened.
"How about you ask her?" Oscar says back with a slight smirk playing on his lips and when the camera phone turns towards me I see the wide eyed look on her face clearly not expecting me to still be near.
"Hi Y/N! Um- well hi," Lily says making a small laugh fall from my lips. I could see how this whole situation would be strange for her. I mean I was in Italy sitting in her boyfriends lap while she's somewhere in the UK alone.
"Hi, well Lily, your Oscar has been amazing. Thank you for sharing," I tell her softly feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks.
"Of course, I really hope I didn't interrupt anything, I was just too excited to wait any longer," Lily admits making me smile.
"If I knew you were this excited I would've made him Facetime you," I tell her softly while sending a teasing glance towards Oscar who has a satisfied look on his face.
"However I do think my job here is done, your man is tapped out," I giggle while flashing the camera back to Oscar.
"No, we in fact are not done and I am not tapped out," Oscar says quickly while sitting up and pulling me closer.
"Lily go get your vibrator," Oscar says while taking the phone from my hand. I feel the energy shift making me sit up a bit straighter. In a split second Oscar went from half asleep and ready for a nap to whatever is about to happen.
"Osc-" Lily says softly.
"Oscar, if she's not comfortable with this it's okay," I tell him making him shake his head.
"Lily, I know you wish you could be here right now so this is the best I can give you. Strip down and get your vibrator. I know you're fucking soaked already," Oscar tells her. I can hear her getting up out of bed and the sound of clothes hitting the floor before a drawer is opened and slowly closed shortly after.
"I'm gonna give Y/N the phone. You tell her if you want the camera facing her or me," Oscar tells her softly before handing me the phone. Lily had the phone angled just on her face so I can't see more than just her bare shoulders but knowing that she was completely bare was enough to be a complete turn on.
Before I get a chance to do anything Oscar is pulling the phone out of my hand again before he placing it on the couch so it can face the room before standing us up and pulling our bodies into the view.
Oscar slowly unzips my dress while the both of us stare into the camera where I see Lily's cheeks heat but regardless I hear the familiar sound of a vibrator being clicked on before I see a look of relaxation spread across Lily's face.
"Lily what are you doing?" Oscar asks sternly making Lily's eyes open again before she blushes and flips the camera making me gasp slightly as the slightly.
Lily's legs are spread open and while I can't see more than her bare pussy and vibrator clearly on her clit it was enough to make my knees weak.
"Lily, you're quite impatient today," Oscar smirks while slowly pushing my dress down revealing my tits to Lily making her gasp slightly.
"She's so pretty," I hear Lily mumble softly before flipping the camera back to her face showing the bright smile she has across her blushing face.
"She is isn't she," Oscar replies softly while running his fingers along my sides making a goosebumps spread across my skin.
"Lily that's all you," I reply softly before I feel Oscar slowly pulling my thong down my legs letting me step out of it before he discards it somewhere in the room.
Once I was stripped down Oscar pushes me towards the bed again making me grab the phone and wait for Oscar's next instruction.
"Go on, You know what to do," Oscar tells me while gesturing towards the couch making me sit down slowly before laying down and spreading my legs.
"Fuck, you're soaked," Oscar says while still standing but staring at my dripping core.
Once Oscar climbs onto the couch I flip the camera so Lily and can see what he's doing.
Once Lily's eyes open again I see her gasp at the sight in front of her. Her boyfriend is in-between my thighs looking up at the camera before I feel his tongue on my clit making me moan and arch my back at how much I need this right now.
"Oscar," I moan using my free hand to grip into his hair.
I hear another click on through the phone letting me know she had turned the vibrator up higher.
"Fuck, Oscar I'm not gonna last long. I may have played a bit before I called," Lily admits before she flips the camera so I can see what's she's doing.
"Mm, show Y/N how wet you are and maybe I'll let you cum," Oscar says into the camera with a smirk before Lily moves around slightly before propping the phone on a pillow before spreading her thigh again. I let out a shocked gasp at the sight in front of me.
"Fuck, she's fucking soaked Oscar," I tell him softly making Oscar take the phone from my hand to catch a sight of his girlfriend before groaning.
"God you're fucking beautiful," Oscar tells her making me smile softly before Oscar angles the phone onto my body where Oscar shoves two fingers deep into my pussy making a me whimper at the feeling.
"Fuck, she's soaked too," Lily mumbles.
"Dildo or vibrator Lily?" Oscar asks little making Lily pick up the dildo and show the camera.
"Oscar, is that your dick?" I ask a bit stunned when I recognize the thick uncut cock making Oscar smirks down at me.
"You want one too?" Oscar says with a smirk making me laugh softly but it's cut off when Oscar starts finger fucking me harder making me whimper and moan at the intense feeling starting to spread across my body.
Oscar hands me the phone back to I can see Lily cumming but made sure I kept the phone angled on my pussy so she could see when I came.
"I want you guys cumming together," Oscar tells us sternly making Lily whimper clearly closer to the edge than me.
"Please, Y/N cum for Oscar," Lily says softly making a me whimper at her words before Oscar brings his free hand down to my clit where he starts teasing it.
"Fuck Oscar I'm gonna cum," I whimper making Oscar speed his actions up slightly before he starts counting down from 5.
"5"
"4"
"3" Oscar continues fingering me while both Lily and I's moans start growing in volume clearly getting far to close to the edge.
"Oscar I'm gonna cum," Lily whimpers.
"Fucking hold it! Be a good girl," Oscar tells her sternly.
"2" Oscar continues his counting.
"1, cum for me," Oscar tells us both instantly sending both Lily into a squirting orgasm with a load moan.
"Fuck Oscar!" Lily and I both moan the same thing making Oscar smirk slightly knowing he had just made two girls cum at the same time in completely different countries as each other.
"Fuck, Oscar she soaked the bed," I tell him softly while watching Lily ride her orgasm out before I see her slowly slip the dildo out of her pussy before he body went limp in relaxation.
"I mean you soaked the couch and me," Oscar replies back with a smirk making me look down and realize just how much I had cum too.
"Fuck that was good," Lily finally says something while showing her face on camera again.
"Give her aftercare and call me after please," Lily tells him softly making Oscar grab the phone and talk to her for a few seconds before he says his good byes and turns his attention back to me.
I was already back in my dress searching around the room for my panties.
"I have a shower," Oscar tells me while looking at my pleasure sliding down my thighs.
"It's okay, I just don't know where my thong is," I tell him softly making him smile and shrug his shoulder.
"Oscar don't be a weirdo give em back," I tell him while holding my hands out while he groans and reaches into his pocket and pulling them out.
"How did I miss that," I say while he helps me step into them. Once they're pulled up on my hip Oscar sends a teasing rub to my clit for a few seconds making me moan out softly. His actions stopped as quick as they started making me whimper at the loss of contact.
"That was mean," I mumble against his lips before kisses him.
"Just like making me give them back," he smirks back before placing another kiss on my lips.
Oscar pulls away and finds a shirt on the ground before approaching me again and wiping my thighs down.
"I can't make you shower but I refuse to send you back into the garage with your cum leaking down your thighs," Oscar tells me softly before standing up and looking at me.
"Go make sure Lily is okay, please. This is a weird situation for her, and I don't want to ruin a friendship with her over a heat of the moment situation," I tell him softly making Oscar laugh slightly.
"This was her idea. I had told her about the little group chat Lando had thrown me in this weekend and I explained the whole situation and she admitted that she thought it would be hot if I found a way to join," Oscar admits softly making a me laugh a little.
"So Lando was right in a way. You weren't gonna do this without some encouragement," I joke making Oscar groan but none the less nod his head in confirmation.
"Can we do this again sometime?" Oscar asks softly making me laugh a little and nod.
"Whenever you or Lily want. You don't have to put her in the big group chat but I'd love to have one with you, her and I if that was okay," I tell him softly making a bright smile spread across his face before he nods his head.
"I'll talk to her and we'll work something out," Oscar tells me before placing a soft kiss on my lips and walking me to the door where I slipped back into the garage after making sure the coast was clear.
It wasn't even 5 minutes later when I got a new text from Oscar saying hi. When I open the message I Oscar had thrown Lily and I into a group chat.
*image attached*
"Thank you for that!"
I read the message and look at the picture to notice her soft pink sheets covered in her orgasm the same way I had covered Oscar's race suit and couch.
It only a week later when a knock at the door sounds through my apartment. I'm currently on the phone with one of my best friends which has me quickly telling her good bye and I loved her before I made my way to the door and checked through the peephole before opening the door for Charles.
"How can I help you today," I ask with a sarcastic tone given that Charles had pushed his way through the door without an invite.
"Please, I'm so fucking stressed right now with Monaco this weekend I just need a release, please," Charles says in a hurried breath making a smile crack out on my face.
"No," I tell him with a straight face and a smirk.
"What! WHy not please! I really just need to get my mind off of this weekend for just an hour or so," Charles says getting increasingly more anxious.
"Charles, you need to focus on this weekend. These emotions are good. I refuse to be a distraction okay. If you win on Sunday you can come stroming into my apartment some time next week and I'll make sure to give a reward," I tell him softly while pulling him in for a hug and place a soft kiss on his cheek which turns slightly red under my touch.
"Y/N- you know what, the wait will be worth it and when I win Monaco I'm gonna have you cumming so fucking hard you can't think straight," Charles says with a final nod before pulling me back into his arms for a hug before he made his way back to the front door.
"Don't let anyone else touch you for the next week. I want you desperate," Charles says with a bright smirk on his face making me laugh and shake my head softly.
The second the front door of my apartment is closed behind Charles I receive a text when I check it I see that Charles had wasted no time in letting the rest of the boys know how off limits I was until he won Monaco.
It's Monday not even 10 in the morning when a loud knock rings through my apartment making me check to see who it was before opening the door to Charles.
"Get in your room, please, I can't wait a second longer to taste you," Charles says before I can even get a word in.
"Hey Charles, slow down. Congradulation," I say while closing the door before pulling Charles into me and placing a kiss on his lips.
"Thank you, I really appreciate it. It took everything in me not to jump you at the club last night," Charles admits making me laugh and shake my head slightly.
Lando had made it his mission to piss Charles off the whole week when he declared me as off limits. While Lando respected Charles's wishes the same way everyone respected each other he made it a goal to rile Charles up as much as possible and last night in the Monaco club where we were celebrating Charles Lando had pulled me into his lap and made sure every feathered kiss along my jaw or neck was explicitly seen my Charles.
"You could've. I did say after you won Monaco I was all yours. Speaking of club, how the fuck are you awake right now. You were fucking plastered when I brought you and Alexandra up to your place," I tell him softly while he busies himself with placing soft kisses all along my jawline.
"I had good motivation," he tells me simply with a smirk.
Alex and Charles had a very open relationship. Like so open we all knew it was open before this little arrangement became a thing. I mean hell Alex and I had spent a few nights together long before Charles ever got the chance.
"Okay no more talking, your room now, please," Charles says sternly before adding in a sweet please.
I make my way into my room with Charles following closely behind and the second I'm in the room Charles is pulling my sleep shirt off a long with pulling my black leggings down my legs leaving me in my Ferrari red thong I put on when I woke up knowing there was a good chance today was when Charles would be knocking on my door.
"Fuck, I wish I could see you in red more," Charles groans when he sees the thong.
"Mmm I only wear red for Carlos," I say with a smirk knowing how Carlos getting his hands on me before Charles is the only thing Charles is 'jealous' about.
Charles just sends me a dirty look before sending down a harsh slap down on my ass making me whimper at the sting.
"Oh, so first it was Lando all week not knowing how to keep his hands to himself and now you want to go and say stupid things," Charles says with a smirk before picking me up and bringing me to my bed were he plops me down and instantly spreads my legs before sending a slap down on my pussy making a me jump and whimper at the sudden stinging sensations.
"I haven't even touched you and I can tell your soaked," Charles says down at me before moving my things to the side to find my pussy absolutely dripping for him.
"Fuck, so fucking gorgeous," Charles groans before leaning down and taking a small lick through my folds making me gasps when the tip of his tongue grazes my pussy.
"I'll be here for the next hour so you better make yourself comfortable," Charles mumbles into my pussy before he starts eating me out like there's no tomorrow.
It doesn't take long for Charles to bring me over the edge. After going a week without touching myself or any of the boys I was desperate and ready.
"Fuck, CHarles," I moan as I cum on his tongue. Charles makes no attempt at stopping, if anything he sped up his actions making me scream out slightly.
Another 3 orgasms later Charles is finally pulling his drenched face away from my overstimulated pussy clearly being serious about spending the next hours between my thighs because when I turn my head slightly I see the clock just after 11 in the morning.
"Color?" Charles asks while giving me a look of concern when he sees my blissed out state.
Once the group chat started to grow we all started setting ground rules, and almost instantly Carlos had implemented a safe word system as well as a hand signal in case I can't speak, knowing that while right now it was fairly Vanilla there would come a time it was in fact not vanilla and they all agreed that this was meant for my pleasure just as much as theirs.
"Green," I reply softly making Charles smile slightly up at me before he's stripping out of his clothes and grabbing a condom out of my night stand where he finds my vibrator making me look at it in horror and shake my head knowing what he was thinking.
We had also made an agreement that we will always use protection unless it was a private arrangement and conversation
"You mean you didn't touch yourself at all this last week?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face.
"No, you weren't super clear so I just didn't touch at all," I tell him softly making him smirk before putting it back into the drawer and finally grabbing the condom before ripping it open and rolling it on his cock.
Once it was fully on he slowly slides in making both of us moan in contentment before he almost instantly starts thrusting into me no longer being able to restrain himself.
"Fuck, Charlie," I moan when he starts hitting my sweet spot over and over again.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful taking me," Charles grunts softly while looking down at me making me moan at his praise.
Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind. 'Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind.
"Fuck," Charles grunts while throwing his head back before letting out a finally groan of pleasure before cumming with a final thrust sending me over the edge to the feeling of Charles filling the condom up.
"Charlie," I gasp out while he softly thrusts into me helping me ride out my orgasm.
Once we have both come down from our highs Charles slowly pulls his cock out of me before tying off and throwing the condom in the trash before coming back into the room from my bathroom with a warm towel he used to wipe me down softly before climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest.
"I'm gonna fall back to sleep," I mumble against his skin making Charles giggle softly.
"Okay, when Alex wakes up she's gonna grab us all lunch if that's okay," Charles tells me softly making a me nod against his chest before letting sleep consume my body.
#formula 1#f1#f1 x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one imagines#f1 smut#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#lando norris#Charles Leclerc#Oscar Piastri#ln4#mclaren#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#cota 2024#austin gp 2024#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles lecrelc#cl16#cl16 one shot#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#CL16 smut#Charles leclerc smut#formula one x reader
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thinkin’ bout ₊˚⊹♡ husband!sanemi ♡₊˚⊹
♡ husband!sanemi who cried like a baby on your wedding day.
♡ husband!sanemi who holds your hand in the marketplace and lets you tug him along to go see whatever it is you want to see — a new rug, a vase, a little trinket you’ve got absolutely no space or use for.
♡ husband!sanemi who hogs the covers at night and cheekily insists you have to cuddle up close with him if you want to get underneath them to get warm.
♡ husband!sanemi who lets you sleep in on your day off, wakes up early to do laundry and make breakfast and kiss you on the forehead when you finally wake up towards noon.
♡ husband!sanemi who sits next to you in pillar meetings, your pinkies linked on the wooden floor as the master speaks.
♡ husband!sanemi who keeps watch while you rest on a mission, vigilant and alert. nothing’s going to hurt you, not on his watch—even if he has to stay up all night.
♡ husband!sanemi who just grits his teeth and takes it while you beat his ass for being mean to genya, dragging him away by the ear as you berate him loud enough for the entire house to hear.
♡ husband!sanemi who doesn’t hold back on you in pillar training, knowing you can take it. he just wants to make sure you’re at your best. he can’t have you slacking off in the field, y’know?
♡ husband!sanemi who patches you up quietly by the fire at night after he’s beat your ass in training all day. his touch is gentle now, fingers ghosting over your bruises and wrapping bandages around your cuts. if it’s really bad, he’ll kiss you better.
♡ husband!sanemi who fights to get you on missions together so he can look out for you, but if he can’t, will kiss you good luck and tell you he loves you before you leave.
♡ husband!sanemi who waits at the door for you to come back, keeping dinner warm on the stove, and sprints across the lawn when he sees the outline of your form coming up the hill to the wind estate.
♡ husband!sanemi who keeps the letters you write him while you’re away in a box in the closet, and reads them when he misses you (he’ll die before admitting this much).
♡ husband!sanemi who, with your help, finally manages to begin mending his relationship with his younger brother. who stops, arms full of food, in the doorway when he sees you and genya sitting at the table together during dinner, laughing and eating. who is overwhelmed by the love he has for his little family, and who would fight with everything he has to protect it.
divider by @/saradika-graphics — sacchan….my sacchan….please. i am so very soft for him. anyways, i’ve been sitting on these for a while and decided to lock in and finish it. hope you like! love, - 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢
#your honor i love him#sanemi x reader#shinaguzawa sanemi#sanemi shinazugawa#kny sanemi#sanemi shinaguzawa#demon slayer sanemi#sanemi fluff#sanemi x reader fluff#kny x reader#kny fluff#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer x reader#kny#sanemi shinaguzawa x reader#sanemi shinazugawa x reader#sanemi shinaguzawa fluff#kitty.writes!
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understand
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: yoon joenghan x f.reader
↳ Watching your “best friend” marry your ex is heart breaking. At least Jeonghan is by your side. He’s the only one who could make you feel less heartbroken.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, non idol au
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, angst, mutual pining, they’re both head over heels for each other, smut warning below the cut.
an: this was inspired by the song understand by keshi. Thank you @whimsical-whatever for helping me with this story.
𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Unprotected sex (the mc is on birth control), body worship, cum play, creampie, oral, shower sex, fingering, light choking, jeonghan is fascinated with the mc neck, nicknamed: (hers) honey, baby
It was your best friend's wedding and you sat at a table in the corner with a glass of champagne in your hand as you watched her dance with her new husband. You couldn’t help but feel quite awkward even attending this wedding. The man your best friend was marrying was your ex boyfriend that you dated for three years. Somehow you had managed to stay friends even though it made you sick to your stomach seeing them together.
Walking across the ballroom as the song finished playing you were quickly stopped by your best friend grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the dance floor. It took everything to not pull your hand away and take off running. You didn’t want to be at this wedding and you sure as hell didn’t want to pretend that you were having a great time.
“Come dance with us,” she said, attempting to pull you onto the dance floor where her new husband was and all the bridesmaids.
“I’m gonna go get more alcohol,” you said before downing what was left of your champagne. You needed something stronger if you were going to survive tonight.
“You better dance with me before the night is over,” the bride said before dancing away.
You closed your eyes tightly and reluctantly saying, “okay.”
Turning on your heels you rolled your eyes and headed straight towards the bar. You weren’t even sure why you agreed to come to this wedding. Your best friend and new husband were quite aware of how uncomfortable their relationship made you feel.
Standing at the bar you found a man ordering a drink. He was a familiar face, and close friend that you were hoping could distract you. You were quite shocked to see him standing at the bar alone. At any event he always seemed to have some women falling at his feet.
“I need a real drink,” you sighed leaning against the bar.
“I can’t believe you even showed up,” Jeonghan said leaning against the bar with you. He looked absolutely handsome in a suit just like he always does.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, “she begged me to come. She said she couldn’t get married without her best friend being here.”
You could vividly remember your best friend coming straight to your apartment after he proposed to her. They had only been dating a year and three months before he got down on one knee. Seeing the huge rock your best friend had on her ring finger made you feel like you had wasted three years of your life on the man that was going to marry your best friend.
“It’s safe to say at this point I would rather light myself on fire than be here,” you said, reaching over and grabbing the glass that was sitting in front of Jeonghan.
He smirked as he watched you standing next to him down the drink that just sat in front of him. He couldn’t help but let his dark eyes travel up and down your soft body. You're wearing a stunning blue dress that hugged your curves perfectly.
“You know everyone thinks she’s a terrible person for what she did to you,” Jeonghan said looking over at the bride who was dancing awkwardly with her new husband.
“Maybe something was wrong with me,” you said wondering why you weren't enough. You're the exact opposite of your best friend and you thought maybe you just weren’t enough for him. Maybe he wanted someone prettier like your best friend or someone is small and skinny.
“Or maybe you were just too good for him,” Jeonghan said, causing you to smile.
“Where’s Joshua?” You asked, attempting to change the subject.
“He flew home to see his parents. Also he said he wasn’t a fan of the lovely couple anymore after what they did to you.” From the moment Joshua found out about the bride and groom's engagement he practically stopped being friends with them. He took your side instantly and told you shouldn’t attend this wedding. You aren’t shocked he’s not here. You didn’t think Jeonghan would come. You’re shocked to see him here.
“You know I would have also skipped this and left for my business trip tonight but I hated the thought of you being here sad and not having anyone.”
“Lucky him he got to skip this wedding. You could have also skipped it. I would have been okay,” you said trying to not sound sad about his statement.
“I wanted to make sure I got to say a proper goodbye to you.” Jeonghan has a feeling his business trip was going to be a lot longer than a month and he couldn’t leave knowing you had to attend this wedding alone. “Would you dance with me?” Jeonghan asked, holding his hand out. This must be his attempt to change the subject.
You took your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly nodded. You reached out and took his hand as he led you to the dance floor. The band had switched it up from a fast tempo swing song to a slower song. Looking around you watched as boys and girls coupled up across the dance floor. You and Jeonghan have been friends most of your lives but they never danced or did anything romantic together. Back in the day when you were in college when Joshua and Jeonghan frat had a dance you actually went with Joshua not Jeonghan. You had gone most of your life having a crush on the man you’re dancing with. Jeonghan was the definition of a ladies man and constantly had ladies dying to go out with him. You couldn’t help but wonder where his date was for the wedding.
“Jeonghan, who did you bring tonight?” You asked wondering if you knew his date.
Resting his hands on your soft hips he pulled you closer to him and signaled for you to put your arms around his shoulders. He gave you that signature Yoon Jeonghan smirk that seemed to make all the girls melt as he stared into your eyes.
“I didn’t bring a date,” he simply stated.
You pushed your eyebrows together and gave him a confused look, it was rare Jeonghan ever went to an event without a date. “That’s odd,” you said with a little laugh as you swayed to the beat of the music. He didn’t say anything, Jeonghan just gave you a smile and pulled you slightly closer to his body. You swayed to the beat of the slow song the band was playing.
“I should have asked you to dance long before now,” he said softly.
“I was hiding in a corner not many people knew where I was,” you let out a soft little laugh.
He shook his head and said, “I’m saying I should have taken you out on a proper date.” His words caught you off guard. “I shouldn’t have waited until the night of your asshole ex’s wedding. And the night before I’m leaving for at least a month.” You blankly stared at him just confused by what he was saying to you. You have always had a crush on Jeonghan for most of your life, but you didn’t think in a million years he would ever return your feelings. He’s always been the talk around town with all the girls. He’s charming and oh so handsome. He could have any girl he could possibly ever want. You’re confused as to why he would want you.
“Why would you ask me out?” You asked speaking up for the first time.
“Because you’re pretty and funny and why wouldn’t I?” He stopped dancing and reached down and grabbed your hand. Lacing your fingers together he led you out of the ballroom where everyone was still dancing and you headed out to the balcony.
You stood outside in the crisp night air. You silently stared at him, not even sure what was going on. You weren't sure if this was all a nightmare for the fact you were at your best friend's wedding where the man she was marrying was your ex boyfriend or if it was a dream based on the fact Jeonghan just admitted he wished he’d taken you out on a proper date.
“Honey I like you, I have for a while,” he stated. Your eyes grew wide, shocked by his words. “You were so torn up by that asshole in there I didn’t know what to do.”
“You literally leave tomorrow for a month-long business trip,” you sighed. You weren't even going to get a chance with him before he was gone for a whole month, maybe even more.
“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered.
“What if they ask you to move there for your job?” You asked the one question that terrified you. Jeonghan worked for a big tech company and they were opening a new branch in Tokyo and they asked Jeonghan to help run it as they opened.
He dropped his head and looked at his feet. He had thought about that quite a bit.
“I’m going to come back and when I do. I’m going to take you on a proper date,” he placed his free hand under your chin and slowly tilted it up so you were looking right into his beautiful dark eye.
“Do you promise?” You asked, causing him to smile.
“Yes,” he nodded his head. “And if they ask me to stay longer I’ll fly you out to Tokyo. We can even try to do long distance.”
You hate the idea of long distance but you would do it in a heartbeat for him. “Okay.”
“Honey, can I kiss you?” he asked. You’ve always loved when he’s called you honey. He says he calls you it because you’re always so sweet to him. You didn’t say anything, you just nodded. You couldn’t lie, you dreamed about kissing Jeonghan since your early teenage years. Jeonghan and Joshua have been some of the only people who have constantly been in your life. His strong hand went from under your chin to resting on your cheek as he softly pressed his lips to yours. You smiled into his lips enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours. Pulling away he gave you that heart melting smirk. “That’s to be continued.”
You nodded and whispered, “to be continued.”
The two of you walked back inside to find the dancing had picked up again. At this point you had no desire to be at this wedding. You asked Jeonghan to wait by the door while you went and said goodbye to your best friend. Walking back to Jeonghan you asked him to walk you home. You walked hand in hand down the streets of the city until they arrived at your home.
Standing on the steps in front of your apartment you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at Jeonghan. You didn’t think you would ever get over how good he looked in a suit. His hands were in his pockets as he smirked at you. You couldn’t lie, you desperately wanted to spend the night with him.
“I want to invite you up,” you sighed.
“Honey, how much I would love to, why don’t we wait until I get back.” He reached up and rested his hand on your cheek. “You aren’t the type of girl to invite a guy upstairs before even the first date and I would love to do nothing more than go upstairs, but I need to take you out on a proper date.” His sweet words caused you to smile.
“Jeonghan, I don't want to wait until a proper date. I don’t want to wait a month or possibly more to finally be with you.” He’s silent for a moment as if he’s trying to figure out what to say.
“Are you sure?”
You don’t say anything, you just crash your lips into his. Your first kiss with Jeonghan is everything you’ve always imagined it would be.
He pulls away from you smiling, “let’s go up stairs.”
Walking inside your apartment you set out your heels and set your bag down. You can feel Jeonghan's eyes burning into you as he steps out of his shoes.
“I need to take my makeup off and change. I don’t want to be reminded of this wedding anymore.” You sigh.
“Why don’t you take a shower?” He asked.
You can play this one of two ways and you decide it’s time to be bold. Biting your bottom lip you muster up some confidence before saying, “will you join me?”
“Absolutely,” he smiles.
-
Standing under the warm water you watch him slowly join you in the shower. He’s so pretty he’s absolutely breathtaking. Neither of you say anything for a long moment, you just take in sight of both your naked bodies.
“I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this,” he says, breaking the silence. He steps closer to you resting his hand on the side of your neck. “Shau always gives me shit for not telling you how I felt.”
“I know you like me now,” reaching out resting your hand on his chest. “Are you going to show me how much you like me?”
“Is that what you want honey?” He leans forward so his forehead is resting against yours. “You want me to show you how pretty I think you are? And how badly I want you?”
“Please.”
Leaning in, he crashed his lips into yours for a heated kiss. His hand doesn’t leave your neck as your lips move together. Your finger tangled into his long blonde hair holding him close to you. You can feel his hardened length pressing against your stomach.
Pulling away you smile at him. If you’re only going to have one night, before you go possibly months not see him you want to make the most of it. You want to give him everything.
“I want you,” you say, stepping back.
“You can have me,” he says.
You drop down to your knees in front of him. He looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “This sight I never want to forget,” he pulls your hair away from your face.
You take his hardened length in your hands and slowly start to pump, feeling him growing even harder. You give kitten licks to his sensitive head. Looking up at him through your lash you see the intoxicating sight of him biting his lip holding back a moan. Hollowing your cheeks you take him in your mouth. One hand rests on his thigh to steady yourself.
You can tell he’s trying to show restraint allowing you to control what’s happening.
“Fuck- you’re good at this-“ he moans.
Releasing him with a pop you look at him and smile before slowly licking his sensitive slit that is already leaking salty precum. You take him in your mouth once again. This time he hits the back of your throat almost triggering your gag reflex.
“Baby I don’t want to blow in your mouth our first time,” he tugs on your hair gently. Sitting back on your hunches you look up at him trying to look innocent. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he sighs. He reached down, helping you stand up.
His lips crash into yours for a searing kiss. He moves you backwards with zero effort. Your back is against the cold tile wall. His hands are everywhere he can reach, before his long fingers slip through your wet folds. The moment his finger brushes your sensitive clit you instantly gasp. His other hand rests on your neck. You realize that this man has a fascination with your neck, but you won’t complain though.
“You’re so pretty.” He whispers with his lips against your jaw. “Is our first time together going to be in this shower?”
“God I want it to,” you sigh as his finger plays with your clit. His slender fingers know just the right way to touch you. Your body feels like a live wire.
“Do I need to get a condom?” His hands never leave your body.
“No, I'm on birth control and I’m clean. I’ve never had sex without a condom.” You sigh. You know you should probably ask him to get a condom but you don’t trust anyone more in this world then Yoon Jeonghan.
“Can I fuck you raw in the shower?” His lips brush against yours.
“Please.” You would beg this man for anything.
“I need you to come on my fingers and then you can come on my cock,” his finger dipped down inside you. His palm works against your sensitive clit while he pumps two fingers in and out of you.
“Fuck-“ you whimper. The coil in your stomach is tightening as you feel like you’re on the brink of falling apart.
“Honey, just come for me,” his hand on your throat adds a little bit of pressure pushing you over the edge. A white hot wave washes over you as you moan his name loudly.
Cleaning your eyes, your head rests back against the tile as you try to catch your breath. He slowly removes his fingers from your wet core. Bringing them up to his lips he licks them clean.
“God you’re beautiful when you come,” he smiles before pressing his lips to yours for another heated kiss.
“I need you to trust me,” he says, taking your hand. “Turn around and press your chest against the wall.” You don’t even question his request, you just do what he asks. The cold tile against your hardened nipples makes you gasp. His hand kneads the flesh of your ass while running his length between your folds. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” you moan as his bulbous head nudges your clit.
One hand grips your hip as he pushes into you. This thrust are slow but deep. This angle has him hitting the deepest parts. Your cheek rest against the tile trying to ground yourself as Jeonghan fucks you. You can only moan his name as he repeatedly brushes your g spot.
Reaching between your legs you rub your clit knowing that you are desperately close to falling apart.
“Fuck you’re tight,” he moans. “How am I supposed to go to Tokyo for a month after knowing what it’s like to be inside you?”
“Jeonghan-“ you can’t think of anything other than his name. “I’m- clo-close” you moan.
“Where can I finish?” He asked.
“Inside-“
“Baby please come-“
“Close-“ you whine.
He picks up his pace desperately trying to push you over the edge. His fingers are digging into your hips. You have a feeling he might be leaving bruises. You’ll look at them as a reminder of what unfolds tonight. This time when your orgasm hits you it’s the hardest you have ever came. You feel like you’re on the edge of blacking out. Your eyes practically roll back in your head as your walls contact. Jeonghan falls apart right behind you moaning your name. He paints thick white ropes inside you. Slowly he pulls out watching as his cum slowly drips out of you while you’re still leaning against the wall. Standing there for a moment taking in the site if you before he grabs a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made.
He helps you turn around so your back is resting against the wall. The smile on his face makes you smile as well.
“I can’t wait till I’m home and I just get to constantly be with you.”
Jeonghan aftercare consisted of him washing your hair and taking the time to fully clean your body before he pulls you to bed. He spent the entire night holding you and kissing you. You have one last round together where he makes slow passionate love to you promising he’ll be back soon.
When morning comes you drive him to the airport and say your goodbyes for now. You know that you may not get to be fully together right now, but you know that being fully with Jeonghan is what the future holds for you.
If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and tags that would be greatly appreciated.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen insert reader#yoon jeonghan imagine#yoon jeonghan smut#jeonghan imagine#jeonghan smut#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan fanfiction#seventeen fanfiction#my writing#jeonghan writing#understand
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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.
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Optimus should go more mad with longing more often. For MY entertainment.
You write great btw! Good for you!
thank you <333 i love making characters suffer from love
cw: implied stalking
word count: 406
Optimus drove past your house today. He set out on a routine patrol through Jasper, searching for alarming signs of Decepticon activity, but for some reason, his wheels carried him along a route too familiar to him. Humans would call this phenomenon muscle memory, an ability allowing them to perform actions unconsciously if repeated often enough. He did it out of a burning longing.
He knew the coordinates of your house by heart, having been in the area hundreds of times. At first, it was only for patrols, then for drop-offs, and once, for a visit when he had to recharge on your driveway due to unusually high Decepticon activity in the vicinity. And though he was glad you had a roof over your head—such a beautifully arranged one, too—a part of him detested this place. This was where your partings occurred, where he was forced to leave you to fend for yourself, exposed to danger. His paranoia screamed that the Decepticons could strike at any moment, that the second he took his optics off you, they would abduct you. They would take you, wrench you from his servos, and he would be powerless to stop it. They would destroy the primary reason he continued his miserable existence at all.
He knows he shouldn’t slow down as he nears the familiar building. He knows it’s unethical, another boundary he is crossing. But he must be sure you’re safe, that you’re still part of his life. It’s been so long since you were at the base (a week), so much time without messages, contact, certainty. Optimus wants to see you, to finally reassure himself that everything is fine. That you’re alive and haven’t forgotten him because he has thought of you constantly. A relentless stream of questions and uncertainties, but also warm memories, keeping him from descending into madness.
He wonders when the patrol stopped being a duty and started becoming personal. Did he pass your house by coincidence, or did he deliberately take this route, hoping to see you?
Ultimately, it all boils down to him being a naïve fool. Perhaps even a lunatic, spinning endless imaginary scenarios of moments you’ll never share. He drafts plans in his processor that will never come to fruition. And despite the constant disappointment, failures, and relentless fracturing of his spark, he still expects different outcomes, clinging desperately to a sliver of hope that this time, something—anything—will go his way.
#transformers#transformers x reader#optimus prime x reader#optimus x reader#tfp#obsessed!optimus#be silly
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Wiggly Wednesday?
The brain worms are here again.
I honestly hate Christmas and avoid doing too much for it. However, an idea came to me suddenly and I can’t stop thinking about…
Secret Santa Steddie AU.
In one of Steve’s high school classes senior year, they’re assigned a Secret Santa project. They all put their names in a Santa hat and have to draw one out (returning it for another if it’s their own) and that’s the person they have to secretly give a gift to, either homemade or purchased, but there’s a cap of like…whatever the equivalent of $20 today is back then. Idk.
This is supposed to be a team building type of exercise, something to foster camaraderie, after say maybe a huge argument/fight broke out between Tommy and his group and the Freak, Eddie Munson, as well as some other nerds. Steve is exhausted and doesn’t care for Tommy’s bullshittery anymore, so he didn’t really get involved, though Eddie did throw a few digs his way. Which was hurtful but probably deserved.
Anyways, Steve draws out Eddie’s name.
For the next week or so the last fifteen minutes of class are devoted to questionnaires and such where the students answer questions about themselves directly or they fill in answers to widely asked questions, all used to let the Secret Santas learn about their recipients. Some people take it more seriously than others.
Steve gets to know more about Eddie, who is more blasé about it all, obviously not expecting anyone to give him something good (if they give him anything at all) since he has no friends in the class and most people don’t like him. So Steve, who has never paid Eddie any amount of attention before in the past but has been now and finds himself intrigued, starts observing Eddie outside of class.
Steve knows he could buy Eddie something music related. An easy cop-out gift. But the more he observes Eddie, the more he gets to see the tiny cracks in the Freak persona whenever he spies on him, sees the nerdy but also kind person beneath the leather jacket. And…okay…maybe he starts to develop a sort of crush without realizing that’s what happens.
Maybe he bribes other nerds about Hellfire Club and Eddie and makes certain they don’t squeal about him asking (he doesn’t realize he comes off as threatening, he just thinks he’s being urging), maybe he hears Eddie mention things and then he goes and asks Dustin what they mean, learning it’s from a book series about midgets and some jewelry or whatever, and so an idea forms.
While shuttling the kids about after school, Steve asks Will if he’d be willing to draw something for him, which Steve would pay him for. Will, obviously excited because it’s his first commission job and Steve pays him fairly, agrees.
(Steve may also purchase a patch at the record store they stop at—Will’s request as he wants to buy something for Jonathan—because it reminds him of Eddie, but that doesn’t matter.)
Yadda yadda ya, it’s time to exchange gifts. The teacher has allowed them to drop them off leading up to the Friday before winter vacation to keep the mystery alive.
When Eddie gets his, he’s expecting something more like a prank gift. Instead, he’s gifted a colored drawing (sadly not enough time for a painting) of Eddie dressed as someone named something like Spider or Arrow Gone or whatever, Steve doesn’t really know, but it’s him fighting off a horde of monster things with a flaming eyeball in the background and further back is an erupting volcano.
Steve doesn’t know what the hell is going on, not really able to absorb the massive info dump Dustin gave him, but Will assured Steve that the dude was cool and the battle depicted was awesome and important when he dropped off his old yearbook for model reference. Will’s opinion was enough for Steve of course. He just hoped Eddie liked it, and the patch that he rolled up with the picture.
Eddie is, of course, gobsmacked and trying his hardest not to show it. He scans the classroom to try to figure out who could have given him such an amazing gift, but no one even looks at him. There’s no way he would ever suspect the truth.
Steve ended up getting a can of Farrah Fawcett spray, which everyone laughed at and assumed was a joke gift for a jock, but Steve noticed a small twitch of a smile on Tommy’s face, the only one besides Dustin now who knows his secret.
Later, Eddie’s battle vest is adorned with the patch he received in his gift, a red and black Leviathan cross, but Steve doesn’t know what happened to the drawing. He hopes it didn’t get trashed.
It’s not until later, after everything with Vecna and recovering what was salvageable from the trailer, that he found the picture safely secured behind a glass frame hidden in Eddie’s room. It’s only then that Steve realizes that he might have been a little bit in love with Eddie “the Freak” Munson all this time.
~
Aaaaaaaah sorry this is a little bit of a nebulous ending here. Does this story follow canon and Eddie is dead, never knowing who his Secret Santa is? Or is Eddie recovering from his injuries, fated to recognize Will’s art style and thus learning the truth behind one of his most prized possessions? Who’s to say 🤷
I’m just gonna tag my perma list because I’m lazy. Anyone can be happy to consider this a tag for their own future brain worms tho!
Hostage Hotties:
@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife
@everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes
#wiggly wednesday#brain worms#secret santa au#pre steddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#light angst#vague ending#open ending#plot thots
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