#gonna write something super fluffy next i promise
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inmyrentedapartment · 6 months ago
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The battle between my need for validation on my writing and my propensity to write fic that I know isn't going to draw the biggest audience... inside you there are two wolves etc etc
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rimaiahwrites · 3 months ago
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My sick little baby (a mini read)
Finally finished this, been sitting in my draft for about a year and a half tbh:( When reader gets sick and and anddd she’s super subby and eren is soo daddy (fave eren) and just wanna baby her :) Sweet 🧁 (not proof read mb lol I’ll edit later)
When y/n got home from school she didn’t feel the best but she still pushed herself to clean up a little and make dinner for her husband Eren before he gets home from work, but when she woke up the next morning her head was pounding and her stomach was dropped when she sat up and the next thing she knew she was up and running to the bathroom and leaning into the toilet letting the rest of last nights dinner out. When she was done her eyes were watering and she was dizzy as she walked back to her bed.
She pouted when she realized her husband had already left for work and laid on his side of the bed. It was not long before tears was streaming down her face because she hated being sick especially when her daddy wasn’t there with her. She grabbed her phone from the other side of the bed and called him. She was in no shape to take care of herself and she knew it. It rang twice before his smooth voice hit her ears. “Wassup baby?”
“Papa…I don’t feel good.” Her lip quivered and her voice cracked feeling her stomach cramp up. “baby what’s the matter?” He cooed stopping his hand movement from writing on his paper now feeling worried for his little princess.
“Can you come home? I think I have the flu.” She whined, wishing he was home already to make her feel better. “You did feel hot when I was in bed with you this morning…you need daddy to come home to take care of you?”
“Yes please I need you, I already throw up and I feel so weak..” she whispered. That was all she needed to say before he was packing his suitcase up and headed to his car to get to his beloved wife.
When he got home he found her curled on the couch wrapped in her pink and white fluffy blanket watching finding Nemo. When he sat his keys down her head popped up he could tell what kind of mood she was in with the pout on her lips, his subby whiny baby.
“Oh my poor babyy.” Eren cooed picking her up bridle style sitting her on his lap. Her bottom lip wobbled and she grabbed on to him tightly. “My princess doesn’t feel good?” She shook her head cuddling his neck. “Have you eaten yet?” She let out a quiet no in the sweetest voice and it melted Erens heart. He sat her back down and headed to the kitchen looking around for something to give her to eat then his mom’s chicken noodle soup recipe popped up in his head. Whenever eren was sick as a kid she would make him chicken noodle soup and crackers and it alway made him feel better..So he got to it, it was a easy and quick recipe and it took no longer than 15 minutes, He also made a her a cup of liquid iv in her pink and white teddy bear water bottle.
Erens pov—
“Here drink this princess…” I shook her awake and gave her the cup, her shaky hands reached out to grab it. My baby was so weak it broke my heart, she was mostly dehydrated from barely drinking or eating for the whole morning. I put my hand on her forehead and she was burning up, i cringed a fever was a good sign because I knew that her body was fighting off whatever it was but I definitely needed to check her temperature.
I went and got the thermometer and her medicine, soon as she saw me coming with the bubblegum pink bottle of liquid she whined loudly, being very overly dramatic. She hated taking medicine with a passion but of course I wasn’t going to just let her sit there with a runny nose and a headache and not do anything.
I poured her a big tablespoon of the medication and lifted it to her mouth, her lips sat in a pout.
I sighed, “baby please open up, it’s gonna make you feel better, promise.” She shook her head no, she was in no way ever a bad girl but as soon as she got sick she was very testy with me.
I hated to get stern with her at a time like this, her eyes glossy and lips pouted so prettily on her face.
“Open, now I’m not going to say it again.” I tilted her head up with my two fingers.
“But pap—“ soon as she opened her mouth I shoved the spoon in her mouth, her little dramatic ass gagged as she swallowed it down, scrunched up face like she just teated the most foul thing in the world. I chuckled as I rolled my eyes.
“This will make you feel better promise, now let’s get some food in you.” She whined and rubbed her stomach.
“My tummy hurts I don’t wanna’ papa” she whimpered but of course she still ate, because no way was I about to let her go all day without eating or drinking. She drank half her cup of water and was all ready feeling a little better.
I grabbed her and carried her up stairs to our bathroom to run her a hot bath.
My bath was a jet tub so when I poured some of her favorite bubble bath there was more bubbles than water at this point, I made the water hot because she normally liked to be boiled alive every time she takes a bath or shower.
“I just wanna lay down..” I turned around to see her standing in the bathroom door way, her teddy bear in hand.
“I know but you’re sweaty baby, C’mere.” When her head touched my chest her whole body went limp and supported its-self against me.
“Let’s get you outta these clothes” I mumble, tossing her shirt to the other side of the bathroom, into her hamper. I lifted her up and placed her in the tub. I smile, Her aching body begins to loosen up from the warm water, her chunky little cheeks squashed from pressing them against the cold edge of the tub finally feeling like she’s able to relax she lies her head down on the edge of the tub, whimpering every time I gently message her scalp. Her once fresh braids now a bit frizzed for tossing and turning on my cotton pillow case without her silk hello kitty bonnet.
“You feel good baby?” I smile, she nods her head only before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. I grabbed her bath rag and wiped her runny nose gently trying to not irritate it more than it already was, red and raw from blowing it all day. I wash her body, starting from face to chest, to her bottom half to her feet, trying not wake her.
I grabbed her towel and carry her, her legs dangling at my side secured with my hands interlocking under her butt. She let a huffed breath, coddling her face into my neck.
I putt lotion on her whole body, head to toe. I placed my shirt that looked like a dress, stopping mid thigh to her.
“Papa?” I heard softly, looking up from sliding her panties on. Her big brown eyes filling with tears. Worried, I moved up to her face and wiped them with my thumb stroking her face. Her skin so soft and clean
“What’s the matter pumpkin?”
“I..I love you so much, you’re the best husband I could have ever asked for, you take such good care of me.” She cried her lip wobbling, my poor baby was always so emotional whenever she was sick.
“I know baby, I know, I love you and I’ll always take care of you. Through sickness and health till death do us part baby I mean it.” I grin seeing a giggle creep through her pouty face.
“You’re so corny.” She smiled, for the first time today.
“I know as long as I get to see that beautiful I’ll say whatever.” I mumble kissing her lips softly.
“You feel better?” She nodded closing her eyes briefly before answering me with a quiet yes. “M’ sleepy ..”
“Yeah? Alright let’s go to sleep.” I pulled her to the top of the bed and wrapped my arms around her, her arms tucked between us both, while her head rests in my chest.
My sick little baby .. I thought before kissing her on the forehead and drifting off to sleep myself
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neewtmas · 2 years ago
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hi!! i was wondering whether i could request a george x reader with she/her pronouns? maybe the reader is an assistant at lockwood and co and george is really protective over her bc she’s super sweet. maybe after the joplin incident she keeps having nightmares and george goes and comforts her, and lots of cute fluffy stuff :)
Nightmares
A/N: first off, thank you so much for your request! I had such a great time writing it. I hope you don't mind that I expanded on your idea a little, it just inspired me a lot. There is quite a lot of angstiness in the first half, but I made sure to include lots of fluff in the second half :)
I hope you enjoy it because personally I think this is one of the best things I've written so far and I'm very proud of it <3
pairing: george karim x fem!reader
word count: 3.2k
masterlist
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You had just finished the first chapter of your newly acquired book that you had gotten from the library this morning when it knocked at the door and Lockwood stuck his head in. "We're leaving now," he said. You put your book aside and followed him out into the hallway. Lucy was waiting at the door in a beautiful royal blue dress. "Where's George?" you asked.
Lockwood gave you a tightlipped smile. "He's staying here. Says he's not done with the research yet."
"Is that Joplin woman still here?"
You grimaced at his nod. A part of you felt bad because you were genuinely happy for George. He seemed to have found someone who shared his passion for research, but at the same time, you couldn't help but be creeped out by this woman. Something about her just didn't sit right with you. When you had brought it up to George one time, he had just dismissed it with a 'researchers are just a little weird, I mean, look at me'. You didn't agree at all but decided to just let the topic go.
After Lockwood and Lucy left, you weighed your options. Either you could go back into the living room and continue your book, or you could join George in the kitchen. Usually, the answer would have been obvious: join George in the kitchen with your book. But with Joplin in there… You sighed, walking back and resuming your place in the armchair.
The next time you put your book aside was when you heard a commotion from the kitchen and then a door closing. "Is she gone?" you asked, stepping into the hallway. George turned around. He seemed exhausted, pale and with dark circles under his eyes. "Yes, she, unfortunately, had to leave already", he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You didn't say anything, but apparently, your expression said enough. "I know you don't like her, y/n, but she just … cares a lot." A moment of silence. "You wouldn't understand." Your chest tightened at his words. If he just knew how much you cared.
You smiled weakly, not wanting to argue with him. In the kitchen, the entire table was covered in books. Some were opened, others piling up. Pieces of paper scribbled full of notes and diagrams and timelines were scattered all over. George cleared the table of the tea cups and brought them over to the sink. You noticed a packed duffel bag next to the door. "Are you leaving now?" you asked. "Yeah, meet-up time with Flo is in twenty minutes," he said after a look at the clock. You watched him gather his things and put on his shoes and jacket until he was standing by the door, ready to go.
You went up to him and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you, and you stayed embraced like that for a while before he gently pushed you away. "I have to go now." "Please be careful, okay?", you whispered, and he nodded. "No George, you need to promise me. That you're gonna be careful" you repeated, your tone urgent. He smiled down at you. "I promise, y/n."
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The next few hours you alternated between reading a few pages, and then pacing around the house when you couldn't concentrate longer than a few minutes before the anxiety was too bad. You knew how dangerous their mission was, and it killed you inside that you couldn't help them. But you also knew that Lockwood was right when I told you that you wouldn't be of much use, seeing as you currently didn't have much practice with a rapier. So you had no other choice but to stay home and wait for them to return, hopefully, all in one piece.
It was several hours past midnight when the sound of a key turning in a lock made you jump. You had nodded off at the kitchen table, too tired to keep your eyes open after a while. The kitchen door flew open and Lockwood and Lucy came in, both dripping wet. Lockwood had a cut on his temple, face all bloody. You rose from your seat.
"Where's George? What happened? Are you okay?" Frantically you hurried around the table, quickly checking to see if they had any other injuries, but they seemed to be fine. "George should be back in a while, he went to drop off the mirror", Lockwood said tiredly, taking one of the biscuits off the plate you had prepared for their return. You could feel yourself relaxing a little. All was well, they got the mirror and it was probably already safe with DEPRAC. "And we took a little bath in the Thames." Lockwood didn't smile, and the comment didn't roll off his tongue as effortlessly as usual. You could tell he was still tense. Lucy had been quiet, water dripping from her hair down her dress and making a puddle on the floor. "You two should take a shower," you said. "I'll wait here for George."
Soon you were alone in the kitchen again, but now any trace of tiredness was long gone. The tight knot of anxiety in your stomach had returned quickly, tugging on your insides. You knew it was part of the plan that George didn't arrive here with Lockwood and Lucy, but you couldn't help that your mind was running a million miles a minute, imagining every possible way something could have gone wrong.
You busied yourself with preparing a fresh kettle of tea and some sandwiches, and when you were done, you sat back at the table. That's when your eyes fell onto a thin, black book that was lying across from you, completely unassuming. You immediately knew that this was what your colleagues had risked their life for tonight. You picked it up, inspecting it from all sides. It had a simple black cover, and when you opened it, the pages were thin, almost brittle to the touch, and yellow at the edges. You quickly flicked through it and scanned over the pages before you froze. There was a picture of a man holding a mirror into a woman's face. That seemed promising. You hurried to read the text that accompanied the illustration, almost stumbling over the words in your head.
Yes, I killed him. Shot him with my father's pistol, sealed him with iron, buried him deep. Yet I still see him when I close my eyes, swathed in his velvet cloak, performing his rituals. I shall claim an act of self-defence, a bid to save my soul.
So Mary Dulac killed Bickerstaff. But why? You kept reading.
His cunning servant trapped me. The doctor held the glass before me. One glimpse and I felt my sanity shake loose. For this looking glass was not a mirror after all, it was a window. Only one glimpse, and I am damned. All I want to see is more.
You read over that paragraph again. A window? To where? What did she mean? You inspected the illustration once more, this time more closely. It didn't take long for you to discover the swirling shape inside the mirror, and at once you could feel a wave of cold dread wash over you. You knew that symbol. You knew it very well. With shaking hands you pushed away one of the mugs on the table and revealed what was underneath. The same swirling shape, etched in there by a black pen. The very pen you had gifted George a while back.
You felt your throat close up, the anxiety you had been feeling turning into a full-blown panic searing through your entire body. George must have looked into the glass. And if Mary Dulac was telling the truth, that meant he probably hadn't dropped it off at DEPRAC.
"LOCKWOOD! LUCY!" You wanted to scream, but your voice gave out on you. Wasting no time, you sprinted upstairs, colliding full force with Lockwood who was on his way downstairs.
"Woah, y/n" He caught your wrist, furrowing his eyebrows at your dishevelled state. "What's the matter?" "The mirror is not a mirror and George looked into it and now he's obsessed and he -" You stumbled over your words, unable to form a clear sentence.
Lockwood brought you back down into the kitchen and Lucy managed to calm you down enough so that you could explain to them what you discovered. "We need to go back to Bickerstaff's grave" decided Lucy, already starting to throw chains into a duffle bag. You jumped up from your chair. "I'm coming with you."
Lockwood looked at you as if you just suggested you throw yourself down the staircase. "Absolutely not," he said firmly. "But I have to! George is in danger!" Your voice was high-pitched, and you were still shaking. How could Lockwood possibly think that you would just stay here when George - your George - was in a situation like that?
Lockwood grabbed you, fingers digging into your arms, forcing you to stand still as he looked at you with a grim expression that you had never seen on him before. "y/n, listen to me. Yes, he is in danger. And no, you're not coming with us." "But -" "No buts. George would rip me to pieces if I were to let you in harm's way so carelessly. He would quite literally kill me and probably put up my head next to those ghost masks in the hallway. And he would be right to do so. You are not trained right now, and as your employer I'm telling you right now, you're staying back."
You were stunned. Lucy pushed Lockwood aside, embracing you tightly. "It's gonna be fine, y/n. He's gonna be fine. And you know that he would never want you to risk your life for him."
You knew she was right, but you also knew that George would not hesitate a single second to go save you if the roles were reversed.
"I can't just stay here and do nothing," you said weakly, voice wavering. "You're not doing nothing", Lockwood reassured you. "You can make preparations for when we come back. George's probably gonna be out of it. And if things go south and we're not back in the morning, you call DEPRAC and send them after us."
You decided not to argue with him over the fact that if they were not back by morning, they were probably all dead anyways. You knew that Lockwood would not change his mind.
The next few hours were the most agonizing in your life. If you thought you had been anxious before, that was nothing compared to how you felt now. Your whole body felt stiff and weak at the same time, and you could not stop your hands from shaking. After accidentally dropping a mug (it was one of Lockwood's favourites, but you decided it didn't matter after the way he dismissed you earlier), you just left the kitchen and curled up in George's favourite armchair in the library, staring at the ceiling and willing for the minutes and hours to go by faster.
Finally, after what felt like several eternities, the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. You scrambled to get up, getting caught in the blanket you had thrown over yourself and almost crashing into one of the bookshelves before regaining balance and dashing to the door.
You ripped it open, and as you saw George standing in front of you, looking tired but unharmed, you collapsed into his arms with a sob. He caught you and wrapped his arms around you so tightly that for a moment, you couldn't breathe. But you did not care. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. 
"Let's get inside", he said softly, and you reluctantly let go of him. Suddenly you felt exhausted, all the tension from the night falling off you at once, making room for relief. Silent tears were streaming down your cheeks, and you made no effort to stop them. George's gaze softened as he looked at you and he gently wiped away some tears before hugging you again and placing a kiss on top of your head. "I'm okay, y/n. You don't need to cry."
That night, or rather morning, you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next day was spent recovering, and Lockwood, George and Lucy filling you in about what exactly happened last night. Knowing how they narrowly avoided death several times made you feel horrible, especially because you still felt so useless. While they were out there, risking their life for each other, you had just sat at home, doing nothing but panicking. George had assured you multiple times that you did the right thing, and that all he wanted was for you to be safe, but you couldn't quite shake the feeling.
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That was when the nightmares began. It started with you jerking awake in the middle of the night, tangled up in your blanket, your hair a mess and your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin. Your heart was racing so fast you thought it might explode in your chest, but you could not remember what you dreamt about. All you knew was that you were filled with a great sense of terror every time you woke. But every night, the dreams would get clearer, and worse. Each one featured George, dying a more gruesome death every single time. Shot by Joplin, suffocated by the vengeful ghost of old Bickerstaff, driven into madness by the bone glass.
It didn't take George long to notice the dark circles under your eyes. One morning, a few days after the incident, he stopped you on the staircase. "y/n, what is going on with you?", he asked, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. "You look like you haven't slept in days." You smiled at him, trying hard to not appear as tired as you were. "I'm doing fine. Just not sleeping very well." You didn't want to tell him that you weren't sleeping well because you saw him die in your dreams every night. Knowing George, he would blame himself, and that was the last thing you needed him to do after everything he went through.
That night, you went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Next thing you knew, you were awake, the scream that woke you up still on your lips, shaking worse than any night before. You gasped for air, taking deep, long breaths trying to calm your racing heart. Your fingers were gripping the blanket so tightly it hurt, and you willed yourself to release them before getting up slowly. You were weak in the knees, but after a few seconds, you felt steady enough to make your way downstairs. With your mouth feeling dry like sandpaper, you wanted nothing more than a glass of cold water. You slowly took one step after the other, careful to avoid the ones that creaked when you stepped on them.
The staircase was dark, only illuminated by a few beams of moonlight cutting through the darkness, so you did not see George standing at the door to his room. "Where are you going, y/n?" You flinched, clasping your hand on your mouth to stop the startled yelp. "I just want something to drink." Your voice was as raspy as if you hadn't talked in days. George extended his hand. "I have something in my room." You didn't have the energy to argue, and if you were honest with yourself, in this moment there was nothing you wanted more than to be with George. Just to know that he was alive and well and all your dreams were truly just that: dreams.
You took his hand and he lead you into his room, to his bed, where you sat down. He poured you a glass of water from the carafe on the bedside table and handed it over to you. While you were sipping, he shuffled around somewhat awkwardly, before sitting down next to you. "Can you please just tell me what's going on with you, Y/N? You're worrying me. You've barely eaten the last few days and you look so tired." You didn't reply. "Plus I heard you screaming just now", he added quietly.
Something about the way he said it, the way he sounded so sad, made all your resolve crumble. You tried to blink away the tears that threatened to spill over your lashes, looking away from him so that he didn't see your tears.
George gently took the glass out of your hands, put it down on the nightstand and then wrapped his arms around you without saying a word. You buried your face in his chest, finally allowing the tears to fall freely and the sobs to wrack your body. He gently caressed your back, not letting go until your sobs slowly subsided.
When you sat back up, your eyes were puffy, but you already felt better. You hadn't realised what toll it had taken on you to bottle your feelings up like this. George's hand rested on your thigh, where his thumb was rubbing soothing little circles while you drank the rest of the water.
"You wanna tell me what's going on?"
"I've been having nightmares", you quietly said. "About you and the bone glass." George let out a long, drawn-out breath, his grip on your thigh tightening. "I'm sorry, Y/N", he finally says, and you shake your head softly. "It's not your fault, Georgie. I just wish I could have helped."
"Y/N. Do you have any idea how relieved I was when Lockwood and Lucy appeared in that catacomb and you were nowhere to be seen? You know how much it helped me, knowing that you are here and that no matter what happens, you'll be safe? You'll be okay?"
Warmth spreads in your chest at the sincerity of his words. "But that's the thing, George. I would not have been okay. If something had happened to you…" you trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. George took a deep breath, then he cupped your cheeks and gently turned your face towards him. Suddenly your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time not because of panic. "But that didn't happen", he said, his left thumb wiping away a few stray tears from your cheek. "I am here, and I am okay, and you have nothing to worry about. Okay?" "Okay."
He smiled at you, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let's sleep."
"Can I stay here tonight?"
"You can stay here every night, you know that."
He laid down, leaving enough space for you and you cuddled into him. His arms wrapped around you, and suddenly you were surrounded by his scent and his warmth and you just closed your eyes. "Good night, Y/N." was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep. 
And this time, there was no nightmare.
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fluffystevefest · 5 months ago
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Steve's birthday month started yesterday and we're off to the races! Thank you so much to everyone who shared their creations or showed their love and support. Make sure to show each other your affection with likes, kudos, reblogs, shares, and comments! 💙
THEME ★ AFFECTION
Mission — Heat by @buckys-wintersoldier ★ Fic: 6.7k, E ★ Pairing: Steve/Reader ★ Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.
Day 01: Steve's Affection by @mercurial-chuckles ★ Fic: M ★ Pairing: Steve/Reader ★ Knowing Steve Rogers, one can easily bet Steve cannot for the sake of anything in the world, do casual dating. He was possessive, an age-old man who can't let go of that streak. His commitment and love are so deep it becomes too evident.
You, Next to Me by EiraLloyd ★ Fic: 4.9k, T ★ Pairing: Steve/Bucky ★ “About,” Bucky started, “what happened in Siberia... before the bunker.” “What about it?” Steve asked, trying to keep his voice steady. This was Bucky. Just Bucky. They were going to be okay, no matter how this conversation went. Steve might’ve been scared before, but… he could trust this — trust the two of them and their friendship. “Why did you let me kiss you?” Bucky asked so quietly Steve almost didn’t hear him, super-soldier hearing and all. (Or, Bucky kisses Steve shortly before they walk into Hydra's secret bunker in Siberia. They don't talk about it until much later.)
Fluffy Steve Fest Rec List Day 1 - Affection by @bulkyphrase ★ Rec list ★ Pairing: Multi ★ Welcome to @fluffystevefest week! The theme for Monday is affection, and while I cannot promise that every list this week will adhere to the themes and prompts, this one mostly does!
Fluffy Steve Fest Rec List: July 1: Affection by @ephemeralbutterfly ★ Rec list ★ Pairing: Multi ★ Hello everyone! I am doing daily themed rec lists for @fluffystevefest. The fics are related (some more loosely than others) to the daily prompts. The number of fics for any given day and prompt varies, but I have at least one fic for each day. There's also a wide variety of fic types and ratings, so I hope there will be something for everyone. The lists are vertically long, so I've put them behind a cut. Our first day features fics with both romantic and platonic affection.
PROMPT ★ HANDHOLDING
Walking Home in the Rain by @darthbloodorange ★ Art: G ★ Pairing: Steve/Thor ★ Steve and Thor walk home in the rain after a date.
PROMPT ★ TOUCH-STARVED
Clipped Wings I was a Broken Thing by @16woodsequ ★ Fic: 5.8k, G ★ Pairing: Steve & Tony ★ Captain America is supposed to have beautiful, strong wings. But after the ice, he keeps them covered, never exposing them or showing them to anyone. Tony finds out why. In the process he learns that no one has preened Rogers since before the ice. That needs to change.
His Favourite by @darthbloodorange ★ Fic: 200, G ★ Pairing: Steve/Thor ★ Steve shouldn't have a favourite Avenger, but he does.
The Shield Bearer by @gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes ★ Fic ★ Pairing: Steve/Bucky ★
PROMPT ★ KISSES
Red Lips & Rosy Cheeks by @ijustreallylikecaptainamericaok ★ Art ★ Pairing: Steve/Scott ★ “I’m never gonna get over that,” he said, his warm gaze sweeping over Steve’s face.
Kiss It Better by @darthbloodorange ★ Fic: 400, T ★ Pairing: Steve/Scott ★ Steve struggles to tend to his wounds after a battle. He knows he should ask for help, but he doesn't want to be a bother.
Sweetest tradition by @americas-ass-writing ★ Fic: 311 ★ Pairing: Steve/Reader ★ Steve's favorite way to wake up in the morning.
PROMPT ★ AFTERCARE
After Mission Recuperation by @darthbloodorange ★ Fic: 500 ★ Pairing: Steve/Bruce ★ Steve returns from a mission tired and dirty. Bruce is there to make it better.
meet me in the afterglow by @meidui ★ Fic: 1.2k, M ★ Pairing: Steve/Tony ★ As someone who has slept around New York a whole lot and thought he knew Steve Rogers pretty well by now, Tony is surprised when he finds out that Steve has been having intermittent one night stands in the two years or so since coming out of the ice. That doesn't stop Tony in the least from getting Steve into bed the first chance he gets, and that chance happens to be after his birthday party when he's looking at Tony, glowing from laughing and drinking all night.
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captainsophiestark · 1 year ago
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Crisis of Conscience
Grant Ward x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: Grant and his girlfriend met after being recruited to Hydra, and have spent the past decade or so in love as double agents at SHIELD. When they both join Coulson's team and Y/N has a crisis of conscience, however, it might put everything at risk.
Word Count: 2,824
Category: Angst, Fluff
A/N: Kind of an ambiguous ending that could be read as fluffy or angsty, but in my head they get their happy ending for sure.
Requested by anon! Hope you like it, this idea was super fun to write!
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
Y/N's POV
"I'm just saying, if I went on Chopped, I would've learned not to use the ice cream maker by now. Like I would've watched a single episode before this."
I chuckled, smiling from my spot on the loveseat in the Bus's living room as Skye critiqued the Chopped contestants from the couch. After another successful mission with Coulson's team, the Bus 'kids' had crashed in the living room together to watch Chopped and eat foods that were bad for us. I was tucked under the arm of Grant Ward, my long-time boyfriend and friend, who I'd had to drag in here with us.
"It is kind of wild how often people continue to use it when it almost always goes wrong," I agreed. Skye threw her hands up, pointing one of them at me.
"Thank you!"
"I just want to try to make some of these things now," mused Fitz. "It's made me hungry."
Simmons and I hummed in agreement, and then the group of us fell into comfortable silence as the show came back from its commercial break. I could hear Grant's heartbeat through his chest, and the warm safety and comradery of the room put a warm feeling in my chest. I sighed, looking around at each of my friends while they watched the show.
Suddenly, the warmth in my chest turned to a cold, hard knot.
Soon, I'd be expected to betray these people. Like Grant, I'd been recruited by John Garrett a long, long time ago to be a Hydra agent hidden within SHIELD. Never once had I had a doubt, but sitting here with these people and knowing just how much harm might be on the horizon for them sent my stomach roiling.
"I... think I'm gonna call it a night," I said, standing up abruptly. I didn't bother to keep the discomfort off my face, especially as all my friends turned to me with curious looks.
"Is everything okay?" asked Skye. I gave a little shake of my head.
"I just... feel a little sick to my stomach. Probably it's a tiredness thing. I'm just gonna go lay down, I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning."
"Come see me if you don't," said Simmons, her brow creased in worry. I nodded, promising her and saying hasty goodbyes before turning and heading straight for my bunk. I could feel Grant's eyes following me as I went, but I ignored him.
****************
Over the next few days, the little kernel of doubt that had started in the back of my brain took root. Every time I interacted with any of the team, it grew, leaving me overwhelmed with guilt for the moment I knew was coming, when I'd be asked to betray these people I'd come to love. Especially as we sought the Clairvoyant, the mystical person putting our team at risk, and Grant and I both knew full well that the person in question was John Garrett.
I'd continued to do my job through bullet wounds, freezing temperatures, broken bones, and just about every other hurtle imaginable. But after a few days of fighting through the guilt, I just couldn't stomach it anymore.
"Hey, Grant? Do you have a sec?"
Grant raised an eyebrow, immediately stepping away from the direction he'd been heading to step closer to me, concern written on his face. We knew each other well enough and had been together long enough that he'd definitely noticed something was wrong with me.
"Everything okay?"
"It's just... I don't know Grant, do you ever... wonder if we're doing the right thing? With... uh..."
"You don't have to say it," he said. I bit my lip and nodded, trying to read something in his face. He still looked concerned, mostly for me, which didn't tell me much about how he felt about what I was saying.
"Well... what do you think? I mean, I can't imagine after everything we've been through with this team... just leaving them out to dry."
"I understand how you're feeling," he said, reaching out to take my hand in his. My heart leapt for a second, then dropped all over again as he continued. "But we have to remember what we're doing this for. John Garrett picked us. He pulled us out of terrible situations and gave us the chance nobody else would give us. We owe him. We can't turn on him now."
"Right. Of course, yeah, right." I plastered a shaky smile onto my face and met Grant's eyes. He still didn't look totally convinced, but I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he could question me. "C'mon, we better get back before they wonder where we went."
"Are you-"
"I'm fine, Grant. Just a little late-game nerves. But I'm fine."
He nodded, looking at least a little more convinced, and we continued through the bowels of the Bus to join our team in the lab. I tried to smile and pretend like everything was normal, but the pit in my stomach had turned into a black hole. For Grant, Garrett had saved his life. He felt loyalty to the man, if not to the cause. But for me? Garrett had recruited me from a less than ideal situation, sure. But he'd sold me on the idea of Hydra, which suddenly looked more like a rotten apple than anything else. I had no personal loyalty to him.
Unfortunately, I did have a lot of personal loyalty to Grant. I spent hours laying awake at night, agonizing over the position I'd gotten myself into, between my boyfriend and best friend and love of my life against every single other person I cared about. I tried to ignore it or push away the worries, to try to convince myself to just ignore the thing telling me to do something, but I just couldn't. Grant clearly wasn't willing to betray Garrett, and I wasn't willing to betray Grant. But I could still do something to warn our team.
Subtly, anonymously, using every skill I'd ever learned as a SHIELD or double agent, I managed to leave enough information with Coulson that he put it together. He didn't waste a single second before telling the rest of the team, and we set up an ambush for Garrett to get him once and for all.
The hardest thing I'd done in my entire life was lying to Grant's face when he pulled me aside, shocked and worried, to try to come up with a plan with me. He'd never asked me if I'd been the one to share the information, because he trusted me. It sent new pangs of horror roiling around in my stomach, but this time I didn't let it get to me. I could tell Grant what I'd done once Garrett was safely in jail, and then we could see if he could forgive me for it.
Unfortunately for me, I never got the chance to have that conversation with Grant. Somehow, Garrett managed to slip through the trap Coulson had laid. His cover was blown, which made him much less of a threat than he'd been before, but he was still out there. The whole team had landed and taken a temporary pause to figure out our next moves when Grant and I got identical texts.
"Garrett's calling us to meet up with him," muttered Grant, sidling up next to me out of earshot of the rest of the team. I nodded.
"What do we do?"
"We have to go to him. He probably needs our help dealing with this mess."
I nodded again, my brain working through all of my possible options. I could just share the text with Coulson, but somehow, that felt like a bigger betrayal than just giving them hints about Garrett. Probably since it would involve Grant, too. And even if he'd never forgive me for what I'd already done, I knew I'd still follow him to the ends of the Earth.
"Should we make up something to tell the team? Or should we just go?" I asked.
We ended up making a quick, somewhat thin excuse to the team, then rushed to where Garrett waited for us. We found him in a beaten-down, empty warehouse, waiting for us with his arms crossed in the back of the space. My heart leapt into my throat, but I kept my face carefully neutral as Grant and I came to a stop before him, side by side.
"Do either of you know why I've called you here?" asked Garrett, not bothering with a hello. His voice had a dangerous edge to it that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; every instinct I'd honed over the course of years screamed danger.
"To try to deal with SHIELD figuring out who you are," said Grant, with the confidence of somebody who hadn't betrayed the man before us. Garrett scoffed.
"I guess that's technically true. But there was no way for them to find out. There was no way for Coulson and his team to get that information about me, to act with such certainty, as early as they did. At least, there shouldn't have been a way."
His hand wandered to his hip, and he unholstered his gun, holding it lightly in his hand as he considered it for a few moments. He looked back at me and Grant.
"There were only two people with the knowledge and the opportunity to out me. I know it was one of you. So one of you is going to tell me who did it, or I'm just gonna cut my losses and shoot you both."
Like the slow motion part of a movie, I saw Grant turn to me out of the corner of my eye. I took a deep breath before facing him, trying to express just how sorry I was without words. Hurt, shock, betrayal, and disbelief all played out across his face, his brow furrowed, his mouth slightly open. All of it felt like a knife to the heart, a sensation I'd likely experience for real in the next few minutes. I mouthed 'I'm sorry', willing him to believe it, then turned back to face John Garrett.
****************
Grant's POV
My heart stopped as I looked at the woman I loved and realization crashed over me at what she'd done. I knew she hadn't been satisfied after our conversation in the hallway, but I'd convinced myself not to follow up on it. A stupid, stupid decision.
She met my eyes, John still hovering just past us with his gun in hand, and a fear I hadn't felt since I was a kid took root in my stomach. Garrett had warned me, time and time again, and especially when I'd started dating a fellow double agent, that I couldn't trust anybody. My family had proven that from day one, and Garrett had been the only one to consistently be there for me. Now, Y/N had betrayed me like everyone else, and I could see on her face that she was going to do it again.
She mouthed 'I'm sorry' and turned back to John, and I got ready to defend myself after she tried to make me take the fall.
Then, she spoke.
"I did it."
I couldn't believe it. She'd owned up to it, knowing full well Garrett would most likely kill her. She was literally willing to take a bullet for me. A vice tightened in my chest.
****************
Y/N's POV
"I did it."
I spoke the words with a clear confidence I didn't feel at all as I looked Garrett dead in the eye. If I had one thing still guiding my decisions in the wake of everything that had happened and that I'd caused, it was a desire to protect Grant. I loved him, and no matter what else came of this, I didn't want him to take the fall for me.
The silence hung, Garrett staring me down. The hand he held the gun with twitched, and I braced myself to run or fight or I don't know what else, but Grant's voice rang out before Garrett or I could make another move.
"No, I did it."
I whipped around to look at him, and this time it was my turn for wide eyes and a mouth open in shock. Grant didn't look away from Garrett to me, even though I knew he knew I was staring at him.
"Grant, no. You didn't. I did it, and I didn't tell you anything about it."
"No, I-"
He stopped short when Garrett held up a hand, the one without the gun, to stop us both.
"No Ward, you didn't do it. Everyone in this room knows it wasn't you." Garrett strolled the short distance between him and Ward, effectively turning the field so he and Grant stood shoulder to shoulder against me. "But clearly it is a weakness for you."
Grant's eyes widened ever so slightly, and I knew him well enough to recognize it as fear. I shifted on my feet, no idea what to do anymore. Grant seemed to feel the same way as Garrett tapped the gun on Grant's hip.
"Weaknesses have to be weeded out, Ward. Take care of her."
Garrett and Grant both kept their eyes on me, and I could see sweat coming down Grant's face as he slowly reached towards his holster and pulled out his gun. With him and Garrett both armed, I didn't stand much of a chance, even if I was willing to shoot Grant.
As the man I loved raised his weapon, I blocked out Garrett completely. I met his warm brown eyes with my own, silently willing him to ditch Garrett, to choose me like I'd chosen him. My heart pounded in my chest, and in a split second everything changed.
I heard a shot and felt pain explode in my stomach as Grant moved at lightning speed. A moment later, as I sank to the ground, I realized he'd turned to face Garrett. He'd shot his old mentor in the chest, for me, but Garrett had managed to get a shot off before he went down. I brought my hand up to my stomach and touched something warm and wet before the hard concrete of the floor bit into my knees.
"No!" Grant cried, rushing over to me. I screwed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain as he wrapped me in his arms. "Hey, stay with me, alright? Stay with me."
"Grant... you... you shot Garrett."
He grimaced, then tried to fight the expression off his face a moment later. He brushed a strand of hair back out of my face.
"The alternative was shooting you. John may have gotten me out of hell, but you were the first one to make me care about staying here in a long time."
I couldn't quite hold back a choked sob, which sent a flash of panic shooting across Grant's face. Still holding me with one hand, he reached into his pocket with the other and dug out his phone.
"Everything's going to be alright," he said, his voice taking on the calm assuredness we needed for missions. "I'm gonna call Coulson, and when they get here, they're going to help me take care of you. You're going to be alright."
I nodded, turning my head as Grant dialed to look at Garrett. He was splayed out on the floor a few feet away from us, the life clearly gone from his body. I refused to join him.
"They're on their way," Grant announced, setting down his phone once the call ended. "They'll be here soon."
"What did you tell them? About us? What we did?"
"Not a lot, but I'm sure we'll have to explain everything once they get here and you're stabilized."
I nodded. "Grant, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you, for going behind your back, I just couldn't let our friends get hurt-"
"Shh, it's okay. I get it, alright? I do. We'll talk more about it when you're on your feet again."
"I think you should tell them you were part of it," I continued, forcing the breath out. My vision had started getting darker, and I could feel my consciousness slipping, but I didn't want to be saved only to lose Grant after doing so much to try to save everyone else. "Tell the team you helped me tip them off, that we did it together. Make up whatever lie works but... I don't want to lose you..."
He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on my forehead as the last of my consciousness drifted away. The last thing I heard before everything went black was Grant, his voice low and whispered, echoing after me as I went.
"Don't worry. You could never lose me."
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury
Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @luv-ghostie @songbirdcannabe @infinetlyforgotten
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jamdoughnutmagician · 2 years ago
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Paint It Black.
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Eddie Munson x Reader
Word Count:676
Summary:You show Eddie just how metal it is to paint your nails.
Warnings:Nothing, unless you count badly written fluff as a warning?
Authour’s Note:I guess I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy with Eddie since I don’t write fluff like this all too often? 
Eddie struggled to concentrate on his guitar, where he was supposed to be learning a new song for Corroded Coffin, however his attention had been completely diverted to where you were sat on his bedroom floor admiring your freshly dried manicured nails. You had painted your fingers in a vivid shade of red, an enticing colour that had certainly caught his eye.
 “Looks pretty, Sugar” he tells you from where he’s sat on bed.
“Thanks, Teddy” you beamed back at him. 
Eddie smiled back at you, hearing the pet name slip from your pretty lips. He’d swear he was a tough guy in front of all his friends, but one mention of the nickname from you and he was putty in your hands. 
You noticed how Eddie was still eyeing your freshly painted nails with curiosity. 
“Hey, Teddy..” you catch his attention, pulling from his thoughts.
“Yeah, Sugar?” he says, smiling your way.
“Do you want me to paint your nails too?” You offer.
“Are you sure? Isn’t that like..weird or whatever?” he worries, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Doesn’t have to be..anyway most of those metal rock stars you admire so much wear nail polish too” you chuckled.
“..Even Ozzy?” 
“Yes Eddie, even Ozzy” you assured him with a smile.
You see him go over it in his brain, his big brown hold an uncertain expression. You decide he needed an extra nudge. A little reassurance. 
“Come on Ed! Give me your hand! I can paint them and you can see how you like it, and if you really don’t like it we can take it off, no harm done!” 
“Alright then!” his lips spread into that cheeky smile that you’ve come to love so much.
You bring up a small bottle of Black nail polish from your little bag of nail polish colours.
“I think that this Black shade will be the perfect colour for you, Teddy” you say as you crack open the bottle.
You take his large hand in yours and begin swiping the dark polish across his fingertips.
“Stop fidgeting Eddie!! It’s gonna smudge!” you warned him.
“Okay okay! I’ll stay still, I promise, Sweetheart.” 
You finish painting his one hand before taking his other hand in yours. You start to paint the polish carefully over the nails of his other hand, making sure to give each nail an even coat of the black paint.
“Do you know you do that?” he chuckles.
“Do what?” you look back up at him, in the middle of painting his index finger.
“Stick your tongue out when you’re concentrating.” he tells you.
“I do not do that!” you defend.
“Babe, you just did it, right there. It’s okay..I think it’s cute”a slight giggle escapes his lips
 “Don’t make me laugh, Ed! I told you, you’re going to smudge my paint-job!” 
“Sorry, Sugar.” his big brown eyes soften as he looks at you.
You finish up, swiping the final coat of black polish over his pinky finger, grinning up at him.
“There we go! All finished! What do you think?” you ask with a smile.
He looks over his nails, examining them in great detail before breaking out into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen
“I love them babe! Looks super metal! Thank you so much!” 
—-------------------------
Eddie strolled into the cafeteria the next day, setting his lunch box down on the table amongst all the other members of Hellfire.
“You go to the salon to get them done or what?” Gareth jokes, poking fun at the dungeon master.
“My girl did them, got a problem with that Emerson?”
“I happen to think it looks very metal indeed.” you say smugly as you sit down next to Eddie.
Eddie glared down at Gareth, daring him to say anything about him or his girl.
“Yeah, no, totally, very metal.” Gareth agreed, backing down.
Eddie smiled at you. He would proudly wear his painted nails everyday, it was a reminder of the sweet gesture of you offering to paint them, and it warmed his heart.
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theladyheroine · 2 months ago
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Softer Werewolf Headcanons 🌙
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❥ Hey everyone! So I know that I should be working on my Bad Batch one shots for the time being, I promise I am, but recently I’ve hit a bit of a stump? So I’m trying to get my creativity out with these little posts. I might make another small one about my crossover just to get some ideas too. But all these fall writing prompts are so cool & fun, I’ve been wanting to give it a try for awhile!
❥ Plus werewolves are one of my favorite creatures, I wanted to try writing about them! It’s also because super gorey or gothic vibes just aren’t entirely my thing, no offense do anyone that likes that genre, but I wanted to do something different! Thank you & I hope you enjoy! 🙏🙌✨
They don’t fight each other to see who’s in charge, it’s more like a sense of already knowing. Someone who already “commands” a presence or behaves more responsibly is gonna be the leader. But if there’s really a big opinion about it, they’ll just arm wrestle.
Make sure you write your name on leftovers!! Or they’ll be gone by morning, even the veggies aren’t safe…
The whole shifting during nighttime is more of an urban legend that human folk made up. However, it’s become more of a scary campfire stories werewolves use to get kids to go to bed on time. 😅 Kind of as a more spooky “If you keep making that face it’ll get stuck like that” vibe?
Werewolves can change form any time they want, but there are rare occasions they get “stuck.” This can last from 15 minutes up to a whole day.
Daily hangouts!! If a werewolf lives near a forest or near vegetation, morning hikes & walks are a must. But if a werewolf happens to live in a city or anything similar, a nice nap in the park or even breakfast on a balcony is just as good!
Dogs LOVE them!! Usually all animals do but it’s mainly dogs, even unruly or grumpy dogs will be on their best behavior! They make for good trainers if you just need a helping hand.
Regardless of appearance, werewolves are definitely stronger than the average human. While it’s not always obvious, even a scrawny guy or gal without any workout experience can lift a 30lb weight easy.
Okay these next couple points I was inspired by Cartoon Saloon animation studio, and their film Wolfwalkers. I love the interpretation Irish folklore has with werewolves!! It’s not this super eerie or gross transformation or anything, but it’s just beautiful and maybe a bit simple. The characters look completely normal in human form too! There’s nothing too odd or bizarre about them either, they’re just normal people with incredible powers! Plus the aesthetic is so beautiful and woodsy and vibrant, this is what I wanna see in werewolf movies. 🙌✨
In all honesty, when I think of werewolf vibes or even just wolves in general, I think of like an earthy colored version of fairycore. 😅 Which is also my favorite, but anyways, Wolfwalkers is literally the perfect werewolf movie I honestly can’t believe how good it is! Plus wolves are my favorite animal anyways lol so this made me happy to see.
Anywho! This next idea was inspired by the studio’s Song of the Sea and selkie mythology. I’ve always thought the idea of a magical animal cloak in mythology is sooooooo amazing! I know tales about swan maidens and other animals are a thing, but a magic fur coat is most popular with selkies. But it would be cool to have this for werewolves too! Like imagine a fluffy fur coat and when you put it on you’re a wolf!
I do like this idea better than some transformations I’ve seen. 😅 Plus, I’ve always found it strange that werewolves are sometimes “super hairy” or they’re a bit aggressive personality wise? Idk, that just doesn’t sound very nice to me. 😅
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acidxinxwonderland · 1 year ago
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a perfect night
SFW and wholesome! Minors DNI!
Pairing: Glamrock Freddy x F!Reader 
Summary: For the first time as a family, you, Freddy and Gregory are going to see the fireworks together. It is a moment you will always cherish.
Word Count: 1.7k
 A/N:  Just a cute lil fic I wanted to write. 4th of July has officially passed but it's never too late for some wholesome times, right? It's pretty rushed and I'm pretty high so... I'm sorry LMAO
“Are you ready dear?”
Freddy stands by your side as you place some cold drinks in a small cooler, you were excited as ever knowing that tonight was the night you would celebrate your first holiday with your little family.
You stand up straight, looking up at the large animatronic bear with a kind smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be! I promise you, we are going to have so much fun.”
“I know we are my starlight. Now, would you like me to bring this and our chairs to the van while you retrieve Gregory?” He leans down, pressing his muzzle against the top of your head, lingering there for a moment.
“Yes please! We’ll meet you out there.” You tilt your head up to press your lips against his momentarily. You have a hard time breaking away, letting him grab the cooler as you turn away to go to Gregory’s room.
You gently knock before creaking the door open to see the brunette on the bed looking down at his hands. He looks up at you with a hint of sadness in his brown eyes, offering you a weak smile.
“You alright kiddo?” You ask in a gentle tone, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you.
“Yeah I’m okay.” Gregory lets out a sigh, fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. “I’m just um… A little nervous I guess?”
“Nervous?” Your brows knit together, walking over to sit on the bed next to him. “What’s making you feel this way bud?”
“I dunno.” He shrugs his shoulders, avoiding your eyes. You decide that it was best not to pry, to let him answer on his own time. Before you even know it the boy spoke up again. “I guess it just feels weird to be doing something so normal? As like… A family.”
You feel your heart melt at his words, it means the world for him to call the three of you a family. You place your arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. His body stiffens against you before relaxing.
“So… Us doing something normal as a family together makes you feel nervous?” You question while raising a brow.
“Yeah. It does. It almost feels too good to be true, like I dunno, I finally get the chance to have something like this and I’m happy, like super happy, but I am always scared that one day it’s all just… Gonna go away.” Gregory huffs out a sigh, leaning his head against you.
Feeling your heart wrench from his words you tighten your hold on him, you understand his fear - sometimes you feel the same way.
You hum out in thought, wanting to do your best to comfort the boy you see as your own child.
“I understand you are scared of getting this all ripped away from you, but I swear to you Gregory, I will always be in your corner. So will Freddy. We love you so much and it is a blessing to have someone like you in our life. We aren’t perfect, but we are family. I will fight tooth and nail for it to stay that way.” You lean down to press a kiss against the top of his head.
There was a comfortable silence that fell between the two of you as you gently ran your hand through his fluffy hair.
“I love you mom.” Gregory finally sniffles out and you immediately feel tears in your eyes. Only recently did he get comfortable enough to bestow that title upon you and you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it.
“I love you too bud, so much.” Your hand falls to his shoulder and you give it a gentle squeeze, it was nice to see him be vulnerable with you, something both you and Freddy had to work on together for him to be more expressive. “Are you feeling a bit better?”
Gregory pulls away from you, using the sleeve of his hood to wipe away a tear as he nods his head. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better.” He gives you a sweet smile, it was nice to see that on the boy who lived a hard life.
“Good.” You ruffle up his hair before pushing yourself off the bed. “Now, are you ready to go see the fireworks? Freddy is waiting in the van.”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” He says with a determined look, getting up from where he sat to follow after you.
The two of you walk outside of your little home and make your way to Freddy who was eagerly waiting for you both to come out. You can tell he was excited with the way his ears wiggled upon your arrival. Although that happy expression was quick to be replaced with concern upon seeing you and Gregory’s eyes evident of recent tears.
“Everything is okay.” You reassure him in a hushed tone once you get closer. “We will talk about it when we get home.”
Your robotic boyfriend nods his head, opening the door to the drivers side for you and you hop in.
Once the three of you are in the van you start the ignition and drive to the park to see the fireworks together. With the night summer breeze flowing in through the window and the low music playing from the radio you felt nothing but serene, stealing glances over at your lover who stayed holding your hand during the entire ride.
You arrive at the park without a hitch, unbuckling your seat belt and looking back at Gregory who was playing a game on his DS. “Hey buddy?”
He looks up at you, tilting his head. “Yeah?”
“Listen, I know it makes you upset when people give Freddy weird looks but I want you to try your best to not say anything tonight, okay?”
Gregory rolls his eyes while opening his mouth to reply but Freddy quickly cuts him off with his own input on the situation.
“I understand it won’t be easy for you superstar, but we don’t want to risk getting kicked out of this event. What others think doesn't matter, what matters most is the love we all hold for one another. If anyone is rude towards me I will handle it myself, let us all just focus on having a wonderful night.” Once Freddy finishes Gregory falls silent, looking off to the side before finally letting out a sigh.
“Alright yeah, I can do that. But just for tonight.” He closes his DS and unbuckles his seatbelt. “I won’t say a single thing to anyone, pinky swear.”
“That’s my boy!” You say cheerfully, giving him a prideful smile. “You got this.”
With that the three of you exit the van and grab your camping chairs to go find a place to set up. Just as you expected you most definitely got some strange looks from others with the seven foot tall animatronic walking by your side. Everyone was still adjusting to the fact Freddy was now a part of society, even himself.
You find a nice, clear spot to set up, placing down your chairs and getting settled in. You sit in between Gregory and Freddy, feeling elated with your two favorite boys by your side.
You feel cool metal upon your warm skin and look down to see the giant paw of your lover engulf your hand. Your lips tug up into a small smile, giving a squeeze of affection.
"Are you excited starlight?" Freddy asks in this gentle tone that itches all the right spots in your brain.
"More than ever." You breathe out, staring up at him with starry eyes. "How about you?"
"Hm… well I think fireworks are a very interesting concept, but I am more happy to be here with the two of you." His grasp on your hand tightens. "I have never been so grateful to share these new experiences with you and Gregory."
You let out a small laugh. "Well buckle up big boy because we have a whole world to show you."
"And I cannot wait to see it." Freddy smiles down at you.
You lean back into your chair, grabbing Gregory's hand with your free one. You look over and notice the slight embarrassment on his face from the affection but he eases into it, getting replaced with a look of content.
It wasn't long until the show began, a single firework soared up into the starry sky that left you holding your breath in anticipation. Before you could blink a resounding explosion rips into the sky and dazzling colors paint the dark canvas above. You feel both Gregory and Freddy flinch from the sudden loud noise, making you let out a small chuckle as you give them both a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
There were a few moments of silence until multiple trails of fireworks came shooting upward, vibrant colors of blue, green, and red bursting up above. It was a beautiful sight to behold but when you looked over at the animatronic bear who was witnessing something like this for the very first time you completely forget the light show.
The fascination behind his glowing blue optics and his mouth slightly ajar from the scenery was leaving you feeling enamored, a soft smile on your face as the color in the sky bounces off his polished casing. You never felt more in love with another before, and seeing him with nothing but curiosity in his eyes made your heart pound in your chest.
Freddy finally tears his gaze away from the fireworks to look down at you, tilting his head to the side. Before he could ask if you were alright like he always does when he catches you staring you lean up to press your lips against the cool metal of his muzzle. Despite the fireworks exploding in the sky it felt like it was just you and him for a few moments.
Once you pull away the sounds, smell and lights come back into focus all at once. His look of admiration was clear as day as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. You look back up at the sky full of sparkling lights raining down, stealing glances over at Gregory to watch the captivated expression on his features.
This truly was the perfect night.
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runicmagitek · 2 years ago
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2022 Writerly Year Review
tagged by @frozen-fountain (many thanks!!) not gonna tag anyone, but if you're a writer and are reading this and feel like giving this a go? Consider yourself tagged! 💖
Total number of completed works. Posted to AO3? 62 🙃 I guess it's technically 61, as What Leads You Here is still in progress, being a longfic and all.
Total number of WIPs worked on this year. Oh lord, hold please as I count all the drafts and partially done stuff in Scrivener.... 7 total. 8 if you include What Leads You Here, which fully drafted, but in the editing phase.
WIPs neglected this year. I honestly don't know djsaklfdjslkfjkldas I continue to neglect my one Celes/Terra fic I abandoned when 13 Sentinels hijacked my brain, so there's that 🙃 I promise I'll return to it one day.
Fandoms I've written in. 13 Sentinels, Critical Role, Final Fantasy (VI, VII, IX, and X), Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury, My Dress-Up Darling, and Pyre
Total word count. Uh, posted to AO3? 287,882. Written? A little over 500k
Looking back, did you write more than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you expected? MORE. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY MORE.
Did you take any writing risks this year? There were a handful of fics that I banged out in a single day, quickly edited them, and slapped them onto AO3. Are they amazing works of literature? Hell no. Were they super fun to write? Hell yeah. I need to just… relax with editing more and let myself do this more often. I swear some of my better-received fics are when I go "you know what? fuck it" and release it into the world.
Do you have any goals for the new year? Not write as much lolsob. Also finish What Leads You Here along with a handful of WIPs. Maybe even revisit that Celes/Terra WIP if I have time/energy!
Biggest disappointment? Not so much in my own writing, but just lack of engagement with some of my fics. Then again, that's par for the course when you write A) not-so-popular characters, B) gen fic, and C) stories involving death and angsty bits. Also seeing my fluffy G fics doing better than my smutty fics in the 13 Sentinels fandom just… continues to baffle me to this day. It's LITERALLY the only fandom I've ever been in where smut does worse numbers-wise and I don't get it.
Biggest surprise? I wrote something for Critical Role!! I've been a longtime watcher and enjoy the show, but I've done my best to staaaaay away from the fandom 😰 plus I tend to wait until I finish something before I ever consider writing a fic for it, just so I can have the whole picture, so to speak. But one particular episode just set me off and I had to write something to hold me over until the next episode 😭
Most popular story of the year? Most hits/bookmarks? For the Ones That Feel It the Most
Most kudos/subscriptions? Sweet Dreams (why are people subscribing to a oneshot lolsob)
Most comments? What Leads You Here
Ahhh the power of posting fics near the release of a popular thing. And also longfics lol.
What's your own favorite story of the year? I feel like this changes on a daily basis lol I love all of them for different reasons. Lucid has a close place to my heart bc I was Very Upset to find close to no m!Byleth/Gatekeeper fics in an incredibly popular/active fandom. Also really love how Like You, Only Sweeter turned out, which was an incredibly self-indulgent story for me (I just wanted them to smooch)
Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion. Nearly all of my 13 Sentinels fics bc the fandom is small and niche lolsob. But also Marinate, which granted, I posted the last week of 2022, but still.
Most fun story to write. What the Water Gave Me, which very quickly snowballed out of control into its own thing. I had a blast writing this mermaid AU and thinking of lore for this world!
Most unintentionally telling story. I'm not sure if this means like… a story that utilized more telling as opposed to showing or just… telling about me as an individual. Either way, I'm genuinely not sure? A lot of aspects of myself are sprinkled across my stories, but isn't any work of art?
My favorite part of fandom this year. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO PICK ONE?????? Meeting so many cool and incredibly talented people. Starting a Discord server with good friends. Applying (and getting accepted!) to a bunch of amazing zine projects. Participating in all the secret santa events and fic exchanges. Being late to a fandom and getting to experience things for the first time. Watching my friend react throughout their 13 Sentinels playthroughs. Collaborating with a lovely art friend to make our own damn zine. Getting to share my longfic with the small, yet vastly passionate community. And just… so so many more moments that made me smile and be forever grateful. If we've interacted at all, even for a brief moment, thank you for making 2022 a little brighter.
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Text
The Scrappy Huntress
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Pairings: No romantic pairing. Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and The Scrappy Huntress. 😉
Summary: The Winchesters might end up with a new member of Team Free Will.
Warnings: None. Only fluff. Figurative and literal fluff. Very brief mentions of blood.
Word Count: 1.5k+
A/N: So, I've been struggling with my mental health a bit lately and I've been having a hard time finding inspiration to write my next chapters for my series.
So, chatting with my daughter, I told her I wanted to write something super fluffy for Dean and she suggested Dean and a kitten, and this idea grew almost immediately, so I wrote it.
Hoping that getting out smaller drabbles like this will kick start inspiration! I'm sorry to those waiting for chapter updates!! They're coming, I promise. ❤️
The beautiful dividers here and below were created by @talesmaniac89 . 💓
Masterlist || Tag Lists
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"Just leave it, Sam! If you pay attention to it, it's never gonna go away." Dean scowled down at his giant baby brother, who'd compressed his massive 6'4 frame down into a crouch in order to pet the scrawny kitten that had taken up residence just outside their motel room door.
Sam shook his head and looked up at Dean. "It's been outside since we got here yesterday, Dean. I don't think it's being fed. It's obviously a stray, let me bring him in and give him a bit of food and water."
"No!" Dean said vehemently. "I know you, Sammy. You bring that damn thing in, and before you know it, we'll be putting up lost posters and spending the next week searching for owners."
Sam just let his eyes plead for him and Dean was quickly outdone by a skinny black cat and big puppy dog eyes.
"Ugh!" He growled angrily. "Fine, bring it in, give it some milk, then back out it goes."
Sam scooped up the kitten quickly before Dean could change his mind and walked into their motel room.
"Most cats are lactose intolerant, milk might upset his stomach," he argued.
"How do you know it's a he?" Dean asked as he followed Sam into the room, closing the door behind him.
"Huh." Sam said, contemplating. "I don't actually know."
He turned the kitten upside down to check and the fluffy feline let out several long mewls at the undignified treatment.
"I was wrong, it's a girl." Sam corrected himself. Turning the kitten right side up, he scratched her ears for a moment as compensation for his rude behavior.
"Who's a pretty little girl?" He questioned nonsensically as he nuzzled her soft fur.
Dean rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed, leaning his shoulders against the headboard, still dressed in his big brown leather coat and boots.
"Feed her and put her back outside so we can get back to figuring out why two perfectly healthy men have dropped dead out of nowhere in this town in the last week. I'd like to finish up and get back to my very comfortable bed."
He slapped his hand down against the lumpy motel mattress aware that he'd gone soft ever since they'd found the bunker a few years ago.
"You know, I was thinking..." Sam began and Dean rolled his eyes.
"No." He answered curtly.
"You don't even know what I was gonna say!" Sam protested.
But Dean was already shaking his head. "I know exactly what you were going to say, and there's absolutely no way we're taking that flea infested thing home with us."
"She's not flea-infested." Sam defended her. "And she could make sure we don't see any more mice scurrying down our hallways."
"No, instead we'd just see a little runt kitten running around that we'd have to feed and take care of. We're not exactly home-bodies, Sam. Who'd look after the thing when we're on the road?" He shook his head again. "We're not taking it home."
Sam pouted slightly. "She's a 'she' not an it."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So if SHE can't drink milk, what are you going to feed her with?"
"I'm gonna run over to that little corner store down the street. They probably have cans of cat food." Sam answered as he brought the kitten over to Dean.
Sam tried to pass the kitten to him, but Dean held his hands up, palms out. "No way, I'm not holding that thing, it's gonna pee on me, or scratch the shit outta me."
"SHE is not going to pee on you, and dude, are you telling me you're seriously afraid of the world's tiniest claws? Man, you fight werewolves!" Sam said, incredulously.
Dean frowned and lowered his hands allowing Sam to set the tiny ball of fluff there.
"Yeah, well I shoot werewolves. You telling me I can silver-bullet her if she starts scratching?"
Sam shot him a look and Dean huffed out a sigh. "Kidding, kidding. Sheesh."
"I'll be fifteen minutes, tops. I bet you can keep her from attacking til I'm back." Sam said, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"Yeah, yeah." Dean said waving his brother out the door.
As the door closed behind Sam, Dean looked over the tiny black cotton ball that he had gripped in his hand.
He adjusted the kitten slightly, not wanting to squeeze too hard. He could feel it's tiny little ribs beneath his fingers, and it's heartbeat slamming fast against them.
Dean's face softened slightly. "Its okay, I won't really shoot you, promise." He said quietly.
He readjusted again so the kitten could sit fully in his palm, and he could hold it in place with his other hand.
"Man, you really are a runty little thing, aren't you?"
The kitten blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. "I thought cats had green eyes." Dean said out loud, unable to stop the compulsion to rub his thumb over the cat's tiny head.
As he did, a sudden rumbling purr started up and when Dean petted her again, the kitten chased his thumb, rubbing up against it and then nibbling on the end.
Dean snorted with humor as she rolled onto her back in his hand, batting at his fingers with all four feet.
"Ooh, you're a scrapper." He moved his fingers forward to pet her black and white speckled belly and chuckled in spite of himself as she spread her four paws wide before closing them tight around his hand and "attacking".
He ferocious bites turned quickly into licks, her rough tongue scraping across his callused fingers. She let him pet her belly for real, and soon she was purring very loudly and falling asleep on her back, outstretched in his hand.
Dean continued to stroke her belly and found himself relaxing deeply as he listened to the, soothing rumble coming out of the tiny little creature.
He held her like that until Sam came back with the cat food and woke her up so she could eat and drink.
The brothers chuckled together as the kitten scarfed the wet food, emitting endless "threatening" growls while she ate.
When she was finished, Dean merely rolled his eyes as Sam pulled out the small tray and bag of litter he'd bought, "just in case" Dean agreed to let the kitten stay in the room over night.
"It looks like it's gonna rain, she'll drown out there." Sam reasoned. "Look, we'll keep her safe tonight and then bring her to an animal shelter tomorrow, okay?"
Dean was still frowning, although both of them knew he was going to let the kitten stay.
"Fine." He said with a sigh.
They spent a couple hours working on the case. They thought maybe they were hunting down a crossroads demon, collecting early on demon deals, but they needed more info. They just knew both victims had been newly wealthy and died very suddenly under strange circumstances.
As they looked things over, they were occasionally distracted by the little furball tearing around the room, attacking their shoelaces and puffing up to hiss at the "other cat" in the floor length mirror that hung on the outside of the bathroom door.
Despite his reluctance to encourage his brother, Dean couldn't help but laugh when the kitten's fur stood on end, and she arched her back, jumping sideways and then bouncing around on her back legs.
Finally deciding to call it a night, the boys took their turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Dean called dibs and bounded in there before Sam could complain that two grown men shouldn't be relying on dibs to decide things.
When it was Sam's turn he decided to jump in the shower, taking a bit longer, since there was no one waiting on him. Going second had its perks.
When he finally came out, clicking the bathroom light off, he chuckled softly to himself at the picture in front of him.
Dean was sprawled out on his stomach, lightly snoring. One knee was bent, and his arms were wrapped around the pillow he was laying his head on. Curled up in the crook of his elbow, the little kitten was fast asleep as well, no doubt enjoying the warmth of the soft breaths Dean was emitting.
Sam shook his head. He knew Dean would cave, they were definitely taking that little fluff ball home with them.
***
Hours later Dean woke up to the sound of loud scratching and he moaned and buried his face further into his pillow.
"Sam, make that stupid cat stop scratching!" He mumbled out sleepily to his brother. There was no response and the scratching continued.
Finally he sat up, angrily turning to Sam, planning on waking him from his comfortable sleep and forcing him to deal with the misbehaving kitten.
But as he looked over at his brother's bed, his blood ran cold. Sam lay, seemingly paralyzed, his eyes the only part of him that was moving, shooting around the room, panic-stricken while blood seeped from his nose and mouth.
"Sammy!" Dean cried out as he leapt from his bed. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him uselessly before jumping up, throwing on the lights and starting to search for a hex bag; this had to be witchcraft.
As he started looking through all the cupboards and under the bed, he began to feel himself stumble. It felt as though all his muscles were stiffening up and he crashed to the floor, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth.
He looked over to where the kitten was still scratching at the cheap wood paneling in the room. He tried to pull himself over, but he felt his arms become wooden and he couldn't move.
All he could do was watch as the kitten scratched a hole in the worn paneling, and batted at something inside. With a growing sense of disbelief, Dean blinked slowly as she snagged her claw in the top of a hex bag and then tossed it into the air as she shook it free of her claw.
She then pounced on it, batting it back and forth. Finally she attacked it fully, wrapping it up in her paws and kicking it hard with her back feet.
As she gave a particularly hard kick, the bag tore open and the contents spilled out.
Suddenly the sensation zoomed back into Dean's arms and legs and he coughed up and spit out the last of the blood that was in his mouth. He crawled quickly to the hole and pulled out a second hex bag, whipping out his lighter and burning it. He stood up and tossed the burning pouch into the bathroom sink as he heard Sam coughing and shifting around in his bed.
Dean leaned against the bathroom doorframe, sagging slightly, his muscles still a bit weak.
"You good, Sammy?"
Sam nodded and gave a thumbs up.
Dean wiped away the blood that had dribbled down his chin, watching as the kitten batted at some of the bones that had spilled out of the hex bag, seemingly disappointed that her fun toy had popped.
He shook his head and turned to Sam with a grin. "Told you taking that kitten in was a good idea."
***
Late the next night, they were getting ready to head out. They'd dispatched a mother-daughter witch team that had been grifting rich guys and taking all their money before slipping them a hex bag and a slow death. Apparently they'd figured out there were hunters in town and decided to do away with them the same way.
As they packed up the room, Sam scooped up the kitten. They'd been too busy all day to get her to a shelter, so she'd just stayed in the room and had seemed to make herself very at home.
Sam set her down on Dean's bed and she bounced over to his green duffle bag and climbed inside. As Dean turned back to shove in another pair of jeans, she circled around two or three times before snuggling into one of his plaid flannels, half tucking herself into the pocket.
Dean let out a sigh and carefully tucked the jeans in beside her.
"So..." Sam prompted. "Shelter?"
Dean shot him an unimpressed look. "You know I'm not sending the cat that saved our lives to a..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "...an uncertain future."
He let out a put upon sigh. "Nah, this scrappy little huntress is just coming home with us I guess."
Sam beamed. "But what about when we're away?"
Dean shrugged into his leather jacket and carefully picked up the sleeping kitten before he answered.
"Well, who knows, maybe she'll like car rides. I'll make her cozy and see what she thinks." With that he tucked her into one of the upper, inside pockets of his thick jacket.
She let out a small mewl. "Whatcha think, Huntress?" Dean asked, petting her head and smiling as she yawned and then nibbled his finger.
"She says she's a badass panther, and she's good."
Sam chuckled. "Does she?"
Dean nodded as he shouldered his duffle bag, careful not to jostle the sleeping kitten in his pocket.
"Yep, and when we can't take her with us, Cas can cat-sit."
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1. Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.
@lyarr24
@siospins2
@impalaslytherin
@akshi8278
@maggiegirl17
@candy-coated-misery0731
@nt-multi-fandom
@slytherinlyn314
2. Dean Winchester Fics Only.
@saikoswritings
@lgranger67
@carryonwaywardgirl
3. Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)
@sunshineandwings86
@kazsrm67
@sexyvixen7
4. Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)
@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men
@awkward-and-indecisive
@maliburenee
@supernatural4life2022
@spn730015
@b3autyfuldisast3r
@kickingitwithkirk
@waywardbaby
@foxyjwls007
@deanwanddamons
@deandreamernp
@deanwithscissors
@myloversgone
@snowlovespie
@leigh70
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
@fangirlxwritesx67
@charred-angelwings
@hopefuldreamers-world
@mysherlock221b
@jensensgotyoudean
@stixnstripesworld
@thoughts-and-funnies
@magssteenkamp
@norman1967
@princessmisery666
@eevvvaa
@mishkatelwarriorgoddess
@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy
@b-i-t-c-h-i-e
@twirpbunwarrior
@mysweetlittledesire
@waynes-multiverse
@mrsjenniferwinchester
@bernasaurus
@jensenslady79
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teasty · 4 years ago
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hold on tight || b.c (m)
"hi! can you write something about streetracer!chan x f reader where things got heated up 🥺🥺 i really like your works by the way, kiss yourself really is one of my jisung’s fav fic !!" - anon
a/n: holyashjdljzhldsa just the thought of streetracer!chan makes me... omg i don’t even KNOW, i'd actually go crazy... and omg tysm! that means so much to me :,( and you're gonna have to excuse me since there's so many things heated could mean i'm just gonna make it angsty and smutty,, also kinda went off for a fluffy ending because it's bang chan, the christiano bangnaldo, how can i not???
● pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader
● genre: a lil bit of fluff at the beginning | angst | smut (mdi!)
● warnings: chan acts like a dick but he really isn't | illegal gambling/street racing | established relationship | angry sex | (of course) car sex | hair pulling | degradation + praise | dom!chan, sub!reader | fighting :( | semi - public sex | profanity | suggestive dialogue | reader slaps chan once :( | unprotected sex (please be safe!) | choking | kind of a quickie???? | super happy ending because i'm sappy like that
● requested? yes!
● words: 8.7k
→ summary:
You’ve never known about your boyfriend’s secret and very illegal job, if you could even call it that.
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"Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling."
It’s a cold, rainy night. You’re waiting comfortably on the couch, sitting there wrapped up in one of Chan’s blankets, waiting ever so patiently for his return. He’s not usually out this late, neither did his job usually end this late. Your mind was getting the worst kinds of ideas as you held your phone in your hand, more worry than anger coming over you. You couldn’t be mad at him, really, you were just worried something happened to him, since he wasn’t picking up your calls or even looking at your texts.
It’s around midnight, and you swore you wouldn’t sleep until you watched Chan, in all his glory, walk through the front door of your guys’s shared apartment. You’ve been dating Chan for years, ever since high school. And, now, even after graduating college and finding a stable job and apartment, Chan still tended to keep things from you. It was a bad habit of his, yes, but you couldn’t really be too mad at him for it. Besides, you’ll be able to help him out of that habit. Once he comes back, at least.
To wait, you decided to watch a bit of television to let your mind wander from the thought of something bad happening to Chan. Of course, the subtle thought of him cheating crossed your mind a few times, but Chan’s only ever been the most loyal and dedicated boyfriend, even past his pretty hard shell. He acts pretty tough sometimes, but you know that he’s just a little bit insecure about himself on the inside. Which, to you, is completely normal. Everyone’s at least a little bit insecure. You couldn’t blame him for that.
Getting with Chan was actually very difficult at first. You both had a rocky start before you started dating, since Chan was kind of like the cliche popular bad boy, and you were the snarky book nerd. You both started off arguing and bickering about everything. But, when you both got closer and closer, you began to see a softer, kinder side to him. And, like magic, you two started dating. You don’t really remember how it happened. It might’ve been just Chan saying, “Wanna date me?” or something like that just ‘cause it’s simple. However, getting it past your parents about your relationship with Chan was the most difficult in the world. They did not approve of him whatsoever. Even today, they’re still cautious of him even though Chan’s already proven his loyalty to you and swore to your parents that he’d never lay an aggressive finger on you.
You’re parents didn’t really like him because of his choice of outfits and friends, which was a stupid way to judge somebody in your opinion. So, no matter how many times they tried to break things off or distance you from Chan, you two always found your way back to each other. Though it was fun, all the sneaking out at three in the morning, saying you’re going over to a friends house when you’re really going to go see Chan and all the late night calls in a hushed tone, you’re glad you can finally relax about it and live peacefully with Chan without the need to sneak around.
But, your mind hasn’t been so peaceful these last few hours. There’s still no sign of Chan and no opened messages. You gave up on calling him after the fifth call had gone unanswered, and just decided to wait. Clutching your phone to your chest in case he were to call or text. Your eyes switch between the screen and the front door (which led into the living room).
You nearly jumped out of your blanket when your phone started ringing obnoxiously loud. Your heart beat loudly as you scrambled to look at the caller’s I.D. And, thankfully, it’s Chan. You’ve never answered so quickly.
“Chan?” Your excited voice squeaked out when you brought the phone close to your ear, a bright smile etching over your lips. Just happy that he’s in contact with you.
“Hey, darling,” Chan’s voice was husky and tired, and a little deeper than you remember. He must be exhausted, and you wondered if he had to stay late at work, “I’m so sorry for being out late. I’ll be home soon.”
“Alright… Is everything okay? What were you doing out so late?” You ask carefully, wrapping the blanket tightly around you.
“Work. My boss had me work over time. I would have texted you, but I was pretty busy,” in the distance, you can hear the sound of his car’s engine. He must be driving pretty fast. Chan also has a really nice car he saved up for and worked really hard for. It’s a smaller, good looking and really, really fast car. You could recognize that engine anywhere.
“Oh… I’m sorry about that,” You respond after a moment.
“It’s alright. Nothing to worry too much over,” you can hear Chan’s smile even through the phone, “And, by the way, could you do something for me before I get home?”
“Sure.”
“Could you make me something small to eat? I didn’t have the chance to eat dinner at work. If you could do that, that’d be so great, baby.” Chan says, and you get up off of the couch. Already heading for the kitchen.
“I could make you some jjajangmyeon? We have all the ingredients,” you say, surfing through your pantry.
“That’d be great, (Y/N). Thank you,” Chan sighs through the phone, and you pull out the ingredients.
“Of course. When will you be home?” You ask before he could hang up.
“I’ll be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes, at the least.” He says, and you can hear the engine get a little bit louder behind him, “I have to focus on the road. I’ll be home soon. I love you, baby.”
“Love you, too, Chan.” You respond, and hang up. Now with the satisfaction and the relief of knowing Chan’s coming home, you separate the ingredients out and start cooking (thank god you took that home economics class back in high school. You couldn’t cook for shit before that). Since Jjajangmyeon is a pretty slow cooked dish, you try your best with temperature control to fit it into the timeframe for when Chan gets home, wanting it to be ready for him.
You had your hair tied back as you cooked, occasionally looking up to watch the television, which was still on the random news channel from before. It talked about things you weren’t too interested in, so you only kept it on for background noise.
You were so immersed in cooking, you didn’t even notice the door slamming open and closed and a pair of heavy footsteps walking up to the kitchen. You jumped when Chan’s arms wrapped around your waist, his chin planting itself on your shoulder. He laughs tiredly at your reaction, and you turn to give him a subtle glare, but your smile deceived you.
“Hey, baby. I’m sorry for coming home so late. I promise it wasn’t my intention,” Chan grumbles out, his words low and slightly slurred, mostly because he’s tired.
“It’s alright, don’t apologize,” you chuckle softly as you arrange two portions of the jjajangmyeon into two different bowls. Chan watches silently over your shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re home. You worried me. Please text me next time, before you stay overtime and don’t bother texting me. I worry a lot, you know?”
“I know, (Y/N). I know you worry too much for your own good,” Chan smiles softly, chuckling tiredly, “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
You smile, flustered, and raise a warm hand to press against Chan’s cheek, turning your head to press a loving kiss to his temple, which is cold, even in the warm kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat in bed?”
“Not if you’ll make me do the dishes directly afterwards,” Chan lets go of you to take his dish, and you take yours.
You cock a brow at him, “I was going to make you do them anyways. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” You giggle and tap his nose with the tip of your finger. “Come on. Take mine, too. I’ll shut everything down.” You hand your bowl to Chan, who takes it quickly as you scurry around, turning off the television. Turning off lights and putting the dishes in the sink.
Once Chan’s changed into more comfortable wear and you’re both comfortable in bed, watching some show on the TV while eating. Time at home was usually like this; relaxing. You’re cuddled up to Chan while he ate slowly. Once you both finished, you placed them on the nightstands for the time being.
Chan was asleep instantly. You were up a bit longer, still a bit run on adrenaline from worrying so much earlier, despite knowing you have to be up early for work. Chan didn’t have to work till the afternoon, but you had to be up early since you’re a librarian at the local public high school. Chan’s an assistant producer and works under a decently big entertainment company. It’s quite the drastic difference, but you being a pretty big book worm yourself, you decided it would be fun to be a librarian (mostly using your literature degree), even if it’s stressful at times. Chan’s work, however, is much more tedious than your own. Where you can usually go at your own pace, he has more strict deadlines and sometimes more difficult work.
So, you let Chan sleep on your stomach. His arms wrapped around you securely as his face nuzzled into the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you were wearing. You were up a bit longer, watching the TV while running your hands through Chan’s soft hair. Enjoying the moment for the time being before you, yourself, drifted off into a deep sleep.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
You were the first one to wake up the next morning, per usual. You woke up to your alarm that Chan thankfully slept through. You got ready as quickly and quietly as you could. Since you work in a pretty professional environment, you wear something modest, but fits well with the fall weather and your fashion style. You wore a white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black slacks under a jacket with your university’s logo on it and a pair of sneakers. They weren’t too big on dress code for the teachers at the school, but the students still had to wear uniforms.
Before you left, you made Chan lunch for the day and yourself a lunch. You even bothered to wake him up briefly to give him a kiss goodbye and that you’ll be back early afternoon, although he’ll probably be at work, then. Chan, although three fourths asleep, gave you a tight hug and a kiss with a slurred ‘Love you’ before plopping back onto the bed and instantly falling back asleep.
Although Chan had quite the expensive car, he wasn’t quite fond of you driving it. You have your own car, and it’s fine. Mostly used to drive to and from work and nothing more, since most other things you were with Chan, so you both usually took his car. It’s not so much a matter of richer and poorer, his car just had more little trinkets and things that are just more convenient. You’re not completely sure what model his car is, all you know is that it’s expensive.
The school isn’t too far. It’s actually a ten minute drive from your apartment. You have to make it there pretty early, so the roads aren’t jam packed like they would be when Chan has to drive to work. So, you have a bit of an advantage there. When you get there, you’re met with the people in the front office, who bow respectfully to you, and you make your way to the library.
You set up at the large, round desk. You especially like being a librarian, because it’s quiet. You don’t think you’d do too well as a teacher, so you settled for a librarian since it was a good and easy way to use your literature degree and put it to good use, other than the fact you’re writing a novel, but that’s a whole other story (hehet).
It’s about half an hour before some students pile in, bidding you good morning and sitting down at the tables to study for whatever assignment or test they have, or to finish homework. Some of them go around to look at books, but most just sit by their lonesome and work on whatever while blasting profane music into their poor ears.
You were busying yourself going through overdue books, and emailing parents about student’s overdue books. You were immersed in your work, so you were somewhat shocked when someone tapped your shoulder. When you turned, you were met with the smiling face of your coworker. A middle aged, pretty woman named Jung Migyeong, who gave you the permission to call her ‘unnie’. She’s considerably your work - best friend. She’s the only person who really delved into conversation with you, unlike most of the other teachers who only talked to you about whatever book they’re class reading or for book suggestions (and you just choose the first book in the library that comes to mind).
“Oh, you scared me!” You giggle in a hushed tone, and Eunmi smiled brightly, her motherly aura giving you a sense of calmness.
“Sorry, sorry!” Eunmi sits on your desk, more leaning against it. Eunmi is really a pretty lady. Her hair is cut short to her shoulders, and she never wears makeup. Her natural tone is without blemishes or acne. She always wears pretty dresses to work, and she always carries around her purse for some odd reason. “I wanted to catch up with you. I didn’t realize you were so immersed in your work. I should’ve known, you’re more responsible than half the teachers here.”
“I try, I really do,” You respond, leaning back in the chair and smiling up at her, “Do you have a free period for the first hour?”
Eunmi nods, “Yes, I do. They switched it up just ‘cause of something wrong in the student's schedules. But, that’s past the point. How have things been going? In the home life?”
You shrug a shoulder, your smile dropping, “It’s… going. My boyfriend didn’t come home until, like, twelve - thirty last night. He said he had to stay late for work, but I don’t get it, Eunmi. He wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and I don’t think his job prevents him from at least opening a text until he gets off, you know?”
“You said he’s a producer, right?” Eunmi asks, her head tilting down to look at you more clearly. You nod, “Well, he might’ve been busy with the idol. It’s pretty difficult work, I’m surprised he’s been able to keep up with it well.”
“Well, he came home hungry and tired,” you sigh again, “Which is weird because if he stays late he usually grabs something from the kitchen at the company building or fast food and eats it before he comes home. But, he was hungry… not super hungry, but I made him jjajangmyeon.”
"Jajangmyeon?" Eunmi’s head tilts, and one brow lifts and she scoffs, “That’s like a fifty minute dinner.”
“Not if you toy around with the temperatures, no,” you smile, and Eunmi shrugs a shoulder, “Eh, I was the one who suggested it to him. It’s one of his favorites, and he sounded exhausted and overworked so I though, you know, might as well. But, after eating, he was out like a light. You wouldn’t think that producing would make someone so tired.”
“You never know,” Eunmi reassures, “You seem to be really worried about this. You don’t think he’s cheating, do you?”
You quickly shake your head, “No, no! I know him, and I know that he would never do that to me. I think he’s just trying to hide something from me. I’m not mad at him, I just don’t want him to keep anything from me.”
“You’re not mad… yet!” Eunmi corrects, and your lips purse, “If he’s really hiding something from you, it must be pretty big. I would personally be surprised if you were able to keep your temper if you found out whatever it is he’s hiding. Cheating or not.”
You’ve never really been one to get extremely mad or even start arguments. As said before, you and Chan did have petty arguments back in high school, but since then, you’ve both matured. Chan always shut down a fight if you were getting too agitated, and you were usually never the first one to start up an argument, since your patience isn’t as thin as before. You will admit, though, you’d be decently upset if you found out Chan really was hiding something from you. You trust him so much, you thought there should’ve been nothing to hide.
“I suppose you’re right,” you lean your head against your hand, resting your elbow on the desk, “If there’s a good chance, I’ll talk to him about it tonight. If I want things to really work out with him, then there has to be complete trust and honesty with each other.”
“That’s the spirit,” Eunmi proudly says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with him, unnie,” you admit shamelessly, and Eunmi smiles wistfully, “I want to grow old with him. But I don’t want to live waking up every day at four in the morning and coming home to no one for hours on end. And, sometimes he won't come till midnight or morning.”
“Well, my husband and I used to have a lot of secrets, too. That we kept from each other,” Eunmi admits, reassuring you that you’re not the only one going through something like this, “The only way we were able to sort things through was by sitting down and talking to each other. Just telling all of our secrets to each other, even if they’re embarrassing or stupid. Just knowing the fact that we can trust each other with everything gives us that reassurance that we’re meant to be. Honesty is everything.”
You look down, thinking about the advice Eunmi had just given you, and you swallow down the growing lump of frustration in your throat, “Thank you for the advice, unnie. It means a lot to me.”
“Of course. I’m always free to talk, and you have my number if anything happens,” Eunmi smiles fondly, “And my doors are always open to you. I’ve spoken to my husband about you and he said that he’s always willing to keep our doors open. Just in case anything happens. You can’t be too careful, right?”
“Right,” you smile, flustered by Eunmi’s kindness, “Thank you so much. I’m… you’re right. If the worst of the worst happens and I’m booted out of my own apartment, then I’m at least glad to know that there’s some place I can go to that’s not three cities over.”
Eunmi laughs softly, and you laugh along with her, “I’m glad. Anyways, it’s about that time. I’m going to start heading back to my classroom. Let Chan know that I said hello, and that I wish you both well. Good luck, (Y/N).”
“Thanks, unnie. I’ll call you later,” you wave briefly as Eunmi makes her way out of the library, students bowing briefly to her as she passes.
You’re glad to have a friend like Eunmi. You’re lucky to have someone open their doors to you. Sometimes, you wonder if Eunmi views you as a younger sister, since she constantly rambles on and on about how she loves being called unnie or noona by her younger coworkers, even if she’s among the younger teachers. She’s like the sister you’ve never had. Sure, things had to be professional, but you’d like to spend more time with her out of the workplace. That would be fun.
The rest of the day is pretty slow. You had a few classes come in to pick up literature books, math books and to check out some books, but that was really it. You didn’t see Eunmi again, and left a few hours after the school closed. There was a bit of traffic on the way home, but it was mostly cleared up.
When you got home, you weren’t surprised to be met with an empty house. No sign of Chan, except the lunch you made him was gone, meaning he took it with him, thankfully, and he left a cute little note on a sticky note saying his thanks to you for making it for him. Which he usually did for you (you never bothered to throw them away. You actually kept them all in a little cigar box for safekeeping. Why? You didn’t know. You just felt like it.)
Like every day when you come home, you change into a pair of more comfortable clothing, which was just one of Chan’s hoodies you took out of his side of the closet, and a pair of ripped jeans. Since Chan didn’t do the dishes before he left, like you thought he would, you decided to do them to pass the time. In doing so, you turned on the TV for some background noise as you rolled up your sleeves to start scrubbing the dishes.
However, your attention was soon caught by the TV when the regular news anchor started talking about crime. At first, it was just about a robbery that took place in uptown, and that didn’t really suit your interest. What did catch your attention, enough to turn off the faucet and ignore the dishes to watch the TV, was when an all - too familiar black car with tinted windows and no license plate appeared on the screen, and there was a red car, too, but you didn’t recognize that one.
You turned up the volume, “Today, police are trying to look for these cars with no license plates caught on camera last night. They were suspected to be illegally street racing and gambling last night at around eleven o’ clock at night before being caught on security footage of a hotel nearby. If you can identify these cars, please contact the police immediately. One has been identified as a black Ferrari SF90 Stradale. The other has yet to be identified. If you see anything suspicious on the streets, please contact authorities. Here’s a clearer picture of both cars.”
And, that’s when it sparked you. One of the pictures of the black Ferrari was of the front. Despite the tinted window, you could clearly see a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the mirror and a familiar hand gripping the wheel tightly. How could you recognize it? Despite the low quality, you can see a familiar ring on the middle finger. A celtic design Chan loved so much.
“Oh… my fucking god,” your mouth drops open as realization hits, and you immediately dash to the bedroom to yank open Chan’s dresser drawer, one left vacant for paperwork to “keep things safe”, and you pull out his insurance for his car. And, there it is, in plain sight. Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Color; black. Windows; tinted. At first, shock pools through you. Doubt climbing up. There’s no way Chan’s a criminal. There’s no way that he’s the one in the Ferrari. It has to be someone else.
But, there was only one way to find out. You had to be sure it was him.
So, you grabbed your purse and your keys and threw on a pair of slip - on vans. The sun was already setting, and you nearly forgot to lock up before running to your car. Barely unlocking it before you throw yourself into it, not even bothering to buckle your seatbelt before driving off to god knows where. Your gut leading you, immediately driving towards the area shown on the news. You pull out your phone, trusting the wheel in one hand as you pull up Chan’s profile and call him, pressing the phone to your ear.
The ringing carries on and on until the familiar voice of Chan speaks up, telling you that he’s not available and to leave a message after the beep.
“Oh, fuck off!” You scream at your phone before trying to call him again. Again and again it led to voicemail. Voicemail after voicemail. You couldn’t text him, not with you driving.
After the tenth call, you let out a frustrated yell, hitting your wheel with your palm and trying your best not to cry. You might be overreacting, since there’s a large chance that it isn’t Chan. But, for some reason, you believed it. You believed, at least somewhat, that it was Chan’s car. That it was Chan in the car. You didn’t want to believe it, but you did.
And your questions coursing through your mind were soon answered when you pulled up to the spot from the news, it now twilight, the sun just being set over the city’s horizon. You pulled onto an empty freeway, and parked in an alley between two buildings. There’s a group of people and a ton of expensive cars around the freeway. There were people crowded around a table. Some girls sat on top of cars, talking and laughing to each other while wearing vulgar and revealing clothes. Your brows furrow, deciding to stay low for a while. You turn off the engine to your car and watch carefully, gripping your phone in your hand. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, popping beer bottles, laughing and talking amongst themselves.
But, it’s when the sound of a loud engine came into earshot, and everyone, including you, turned to see the source of the sound. The moment the crowd of people see who it is, they start to cheer loudly. Throwing up their hands. However, your mouth falls open once more as the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale with tinted windows and a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the rear - view mirror. It pulls up to the crowd, and they all part to make way for it.
Instead of shock or sadness, anger and rage begins to boil inside of you, and you grip your steering wheel tightly as you watch Chan, Christopher Bang, step out of the car. People pat his shoulder, and he smiles widely at them. Giving a few people hugs and even smiling to some of the women, who tried to steal a hug from him, too. He’s wearing clothes you don’t ever remember seeing. He wears a black leather jacket over a white button up and black skinny jeans. You’d be impressed by how good he looks if you weren’t so upset.
You didn’t even have to look at your phone as you pulled up Chan’s profile and called him, pressing the phone roughly to your ear.
“Pick up… Pick the fuck up,” you grumble under your breath as you watch Chan. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at it briefly.
Not even hesitating to hang up.
As you heard the familiar sound of Chan’s sweet voice telling you he’s not available at the moment and to leave a message after the beep, you finally have enough courage to get out of your car. Slamming the door shut and making your way out of the alley. They’re not too far, but it's a long enough walk for you to catch the eye of some people. You don’t even pause to rethink your decisions when a girl taps the chest of one of the guys, who glares at you with a raised brow.
The man that glared at you stepped away from the crowd, and you could barely see Chan over the people. He walks over to you, and you stop when the man is right in front of you, peering down you. The smell of cheap beer oozing off of him.
“And who the fuck are you?”
“Chan’s girlfriend, now get the fuck out of my way,” you try to push past him, but he grabs you by the arm. Tightly, too. Probably tight enough to leave a bruise after a while. “Hey! Let go of me.”
“No can do, princess,” the man says, smirking mercilessly down at you, his grip not loosening one bit, “Whether or not you’re Chan’s bitch doesn’t matter to me. It’s either you leave or I take you home and we have a good time. Well, I will, at least.” So, you tried to yank your arm from his, trying your best not to use your free hand to punch him in the face.
“Where’s Chan? Bring him to me.” You demand, and the man scoffs, chuckling.
“Fine, have it your way,” the man turns his head towards the crowd, a few people watch, and he says, “Grab Chan. This chick says she’s his girlfriend.” A few of them laugh at him, thinking it’s a joke. But, you stand your ground, glaring through the crowd. One of the people that laughed pushed through a few people. It takes a minute, and there’s a tense silence between you and the man as you try to pry his hand off.
But, as you suspected, a smiling Chan pushes through, but his smile instantly drops when he sees you.
“Hey, Chan. This chick’s babbling on about being your girl. Should I kick-”
“Get your hands off her right now before I shoot you in the face.” Chan interrupts, anger lacing his dark, deep voice. The man holding your arm instantly lets go and steps away, his hands rising in defense. Mumbling something about just ‘trying to keep things safe’. Once the man is away, Chan walks up to you, now being the one tightly gripping your arms. Leaning down so his face is close to yours.
“Why are you here, (Y/N)? Why the hell are you here?” He asks harshly, his voice full of surprise and desperation. He even shakes you slightly.
“You seriously thought I wouldn’t find out?” You snap, ignoring his question all together, “You thought I was dumb enough to let this go under? Well, I’ve been dumb for too long, Christopher. I’m not going to be like that anymore.” You know he’s not too big a fan of being called by his real name, but you do it anyway.
“Go home (Y/N). I’ll explain everything to you afterwards.” Chan says, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you away.
“No!” You yell, pushing his arms off you, “I am not going home, Chan! I am staying with you. I need to know what the hell all of this is. Right. Now.” You demand, and Chan shakes his head.
“No. You’re going home, (Y/N),” Chan tries to push you away again, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly and trying to turn you from the curious crowd. However, you weren’t going to be let off so easily. You swiftly turned around, letting your flying hand come in contact with Chan’s cheek. Smacking him. You made sure not to backhand him, knowing how much that could hurt. Besides, you don’t want to hurt him too much, you just want to get your point across, and he wasn’t listening to your words. He lets go of you again, his head flinging to the side because of the impact.
“I said no. I’m staying here,” You repeat yourself, and Chan’s eyes no longer lace with aggression, but worry. He doesn’t seem upset that you hit him. In fact, he seems to gloss over it. “I need to know what’s going on-”
You weren’t able to finish your sentence until Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into the crowd. They part to make way for him, and you aren’t able to muster out a sentence before Chan unlocked his car and shoves you forcefully into the passenger seat.
“Chan, what -”
“Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight ‘cause it’s gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling,” Chan snaps, and your lips clamp close at his harsh words. You didn’t expect that out of him. You could nearly cry right there. Chan backs away and slams the door shut, and you quickly scramble to put the seatbelt on as Chan yells something at the crowd, and they erupt in cheers. A few people scramble to get into different cars, and the rest stay back, keeping their distance. However, Chan didn’t seem too pleased as he walked around the car and into the passenger’s seat, locking the doors.
“Chan…”
“Quiet,” Chan snaps, revving the engine of the car. You can faintly hear the cheer of the onlookers behind as Chan pulls alongside the other three cars. A young woman wearing small shorts and an exposed shirt too small for fall walks ahead, and pulls a red cloth out of her back pocket. Her red lips smile bright as she lifts her red cloth. She holds up one finger, and Chan’s engine growls from behind, the car shaking along with it. Your hands go to grip the first thing, which is the cup holder in the center console and the door. Bracing yourself for what’s about to happen.
“Chan!”
“I said quiet!” Chan yells, sparing you a glance and your brows creased with worry as the woman holds up a second finger, and Chan’s hand grips the wheel as the other rests over the buttons.
She doesn’t hold up a third finger. Instead, she throws down the red cloth, and the moment she does so, Chan is off on the road. His foot slammed against the gas as he pushed his back against the seat and used one hand to effortlessly steer. You feel so impossibly scared in the car. A small part of you was debating whether or not you should have gone home, but you knew that it was the right decision to stay. To truly understand what’s been going on and what this is all about.
You try your best not to scream as the loud engine nearly bursts your eardrums.
“Chan… Chan, stop the car!” You scream, the need to vomit creeping up, even though you try to gulp it down.
“I can’t, (Y/N). I really can’t right now.” He says loudly over the engine.
“Please, Chan, just stop the car…!” You yell out again, and Chan finally glances at you, seeing your distressed look before his head snaps ahead again.
His hand swiftly reaches over to grip your thigh, as if trying to prove that you’re secure, “Calm down, (Y/N). You’ll be fine. We’re fine. I’m not stopping the car. Sorry, but I just can’t.”
“I should hate you for this, Chan!” You say, and you can see the way his knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel. “But I can’t… I just… Goddamn it, why!?”
“I can’t tell you that right now!” He yells back, looking over briefly before making a sharp turn, making you clutch onto the seat belt for protection, his hand now back over the buttons, “You just need to sit there until this is over, got it? I don’t care how scared you are, you’re gonna get through it like the strong woman you are, (Y/N), and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
You look over to Chan, and his lips are downturned, his brows furrowed and his eyes glossed over, as if he could cry right there.
“But why didn’t you just tell me?! We wouldn’t be like this right now if you just told me, Chan, and that’s the truth.” You yell over the engine, and Chan bitterly and breathily chuckles, shaking his head as an angry smile casts over his lips.
“You wouldn’t have stayed with me if I told you, (Y/N), you know that.” His voice is a little softer. If any softer, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You would’ve left me.”
Your mouth falls open, and you shake your head, “Never… Never! Never, ever, accuse me of that. I would never leave you even if you killed a man, Chan, and that’s the truth!” He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns another sharp corner, and you can see the other cars following behind, closing in. He sees it, too, and he presses some buttons you didn’t bother reading and slams his foot on the gas again. You let out a deep breath, still clutching the seat belt, “I just want to know why, Chan. Why are you resulting to this even though you have a stable job at the entertainment company, I-... I just want you to be honest with me.”
“I’ll tell you later, (Y/N). Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut. I need to focus or we’ll fucking crash, you got it!” He yells, and you flinch at his harsh tone. Finally keeping quiet.
The race seems like it lasts forever, when it was probably only five minutes. With sharp twists and turns and screeching of the engine in wheels, it feels like torture. You hate this, but there’s no backing out yet.
Chan doesn’t utter a word. Only cursing at the other cars when they do something that they weren’t supposed to do, or somehow start catching up to him. You let a few tears slip as you watch his hands and Chan as he focuses solely on the road. The lump in your throat is growing bigger and bigger, and swallowing it down seems to get more and more difficult.
But, it’s over at some point. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Chan finally slowed down after reaching a pathetic excuse of a finish line. Your trembling hands grip the hem of the hoodie you were wearing as Chan comes to a steady stop. People come cheering as the other three cars pull up behind, being careful not to bump into anyone from the crowd. You breath heavily, and look over to Chan, who rolls down his window, plastering a triumphant smile on his lips.
“I don’t even get why I race against you, mate. You always win. Just take the money and get outta here,” says one of the racers playfully, tossing Chan a briefcase through the window.
“Thanks man. Good race,” Chan says, “Now, I have business to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.”
He rolls up the window, and the man who handed Chan the briefcase smacks the window playfully as Chan rushes off, his smile instantly vanishing as he goes through backgrounds to try and get to a main road without drawing too much attention. Chan’s smile drops, and he hands you the briefcase.
“You want to know so badly? Open it and be careful. It’ll be hell to clean up if you drop it,” Chan grumbles, looking over as you look to him for reassurance. He only gives you a cocked brow as you look back to the case in your lap before unlocking it and opening it. Your jaw falls as you look at the thousands of bills stacked on top of each other, rubber bands holding equal stacks together, and you gawk at just how much money Chan won from one race.
After a minute of you staring at the money, Chan slams the case closed in your lap, locking it with one hand and tossing it in the backseat making you jump at how hasty he is.
You both sit there, Chan driving to god knows where in tense silence. You're holding your head in your hands as Chan shifted his gaze between you and the road.
It’s about fifteen minutes until you look up, surprised that he’s still driving and nowhere near home. It’s an emptier city, but Chan seems to know the area well.
“Chan, where are we?” You ask, but Chan gives no answer. Only driving a bit further before pulling into an alley between two old buildings. “Chan, I said -”
You were quickly by Chan yanking off his seatbelt and leaning over the center console to firmly grab your face and pull you into a rough kiss. It isn’t too rushed, but it’s not at all gentle. You’re caught by surprise at first, but couldn’t help melting into it. It’s almost instinct at this point to kiss him back, but you push him away after a moment. “What… What the fuck are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” Chan answers briefly before grabbing locks of your hair at the back of your head and pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let it slam against the car as it flies off you.
“No, Chan… We need to talk,” You grumble out as you try to pull away, and he presses wet, sloppy kisses to the side of your mouth. His eyes are fluttered shut, and your’s are half lidded. You will admit, you love this. The kisses and how unnaturally aggressive Chan is being. But, you knew that you have to talk things out, or you’d never get to figure out how the hell things turned out like this, “Chan, I’m serious right now.”
“Then relax, baby,” Chan breathily whispers out, and your thighs squeeze together, “Let me make things up to you, okay? I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” He pulls away for a moment, and he stares at you with a teasing smirk, “Think of it as my apology, alright?”
“Chan, I’m… I’m - ah! Chan!” You gasp when Chan’s lips come in contact with the side of your neck. Your neck is already tilting to give him more room, despite trying pathetically to push him away. There’s no getting through to him anymore. You’ve passed the point of no return, and there’s not much you could get past him without slapping him again. And that didn’t seem like a very good idea to you. Your hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, the other loosely clutching the hem of his button up.
“You know that… ah… that we are going to talk about this at some point…” you groan out, and Chan only groans against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “You can’t get out of it like this…”
“Shut it, (Y/N),” Chan snaps, and your head falls back. Chan leans his seat back, aggressively grabbing you by the thighs to pull you over and sit on top of him. Straddling his waist despite it being such a tight environment. He pulls you down by the hoodie, into another kiss. You could feel how frustrated Chan is by the way he grips you tightly, as if you’re going to magically vanish, and by how he talks to you.
It’s rushed, too. Chan is impossibly quick to pull up your hoodie, his hot, sweaty hands creeping up your warm back, caressing it with a different, quick sense of gentleness. His lips connect with yours once again. His tongue already pressing against your lips. The quick, sloppy kiss all too lust filled. The erotic sounds coming from the both of you almost making you gloss over the fact that you should still be very mad at Chan. But, you just can’t find the need to pull away from him. You need to let off the steam, too.
You flush your body firm against him, one hand on his chest and the other by his head, holding onto the head of the seat for support. Breathing as slowly as you can through your nose to savor the air Chan so selfishly takes from you from the heated kiss. Your thoughts begin to vanish and your worry and concern for Chan’s life choices begin to falter for the time being. So immersed in the heated kiss to forget about it entirely. All your focus is now on Chan. You can tell how stressed he is, and the loving part of you wants to help him let off that steam. But, now, you’re in the same boat. So, he’s going to have to do so much for you as you’ve been doing for him.
Chan’s hands don’t bother to hesitate before they loop underneath your jeans, not caring to unbutton them as he tries his best to pull them off by himself. Because of how restricted you both are because of the size of the car, you had to do it yourself. You parted from the kiss and pressed your head against his shoulder to unbutton your jeans and pull them down as quickly as you could before throwing them in the back (along with your shoes and socks. You can already see how hard Chan’s gotten as his rough hands massage and knead your ass, only covered by the thin, black cloth keeping you at least somewhat covered. But, if this was like any other time, they’d be gone quicker than you’d imagine.
Your hands fly up again once your pants are thrown to the back, resting on either side of Chan’s head as he grips your hips, grinding your womanhood against his clothed hardon (you’re also clothed, but it’s so wet from your juices that it basically attaches itself to your skin). His head throws itself back, his eyes closing and a pleasure filled smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You press yourself against him, now propped up to be looming over him, sitting on him.
When you do press against him, his head snaps forward again, and his dark eyes glare up at you, “Don’t start getting proud, (Y/N). I’m gonna fucking break you.” His hand crawls up to grip your face in his hand. One of your hands weakly comes up to grip his wrist. His hand moving down to grip your throat, and your lips part blissfully as his fingers press into the sides of your neck, still allowing airflow through you. “Oh, fuck. You like being choked, huh? You like being choked like a slut don’t you?” You don’t answer, too nervous to and too caught up in the pleasure to actually let something other than a moan escape your lips.
“Talk to me, (Y/N). Use your fucking words,” Chan growls, and you swallow. The lump in your throat pressing painfully, yet blissfully against Chan’s hand.
“Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me…” You utter out his name, and Chan’s brow raises. But, he smirks nonetheless and lets go of your neck, and you let out a breath as he undoes his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. His hand palming his clothed cock briefly before pulling it out. His hard dick already leaking with precum.
“Condom…” You mutter, and Chan shakes his head. You look up to him with worry.
“Trust me, baby,” he mutters, and you sigh, leaning against him, pressing your body against his as Chan moves your panties out of the way before he aligns your throbbing cunt with his dick, and slowly pushing himself into you, raw. As his raw cock slowly becomes engulfed by your heat, Chan lets out low groans. Your face nuzzles into the side of his neck as Chan slowly guides you down until you’re sitting on his cock.
At first, he stays there like that. Not moving. You suspect it’s because the sane part of him wants you to get used to the feeling of his cock so deep in you without a condom, but Chan seems to keep you there for a few moments just for the sake of how good it feels without a condom. The way his head is leaned back, his lips slightly ajar and his eyes fluttered shut.
But, it doesn’t last long before Chan’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you up and starts ramming into you. His hips move so quickly, yet so efficiently as he burns your wet walls. You erupt in a series of loud moans, mixtures of Chan’s name and curses spilling out, too. Chan groans sometimes, right next to your ear. The sound of skin slapping against the fabric of Chan’s boxers echoing through the air tight car.
Your pussy burns from how fast Chan thrusts into you, keeping you at a steady position so he could have an easier time ramming himself into you without the difficulty of it being such a confined and restrictive place in the car (especially in the driver’s seat). The burn is so good for you, though. It’s such a numbing, euphoric feeling that you’ll crave later. A type of burn you could never provide yourself, only Chan.
Chan’s hands go from gripping your body to sliding up your side to gripping your hair and yanking your head back so he could look at you. A judgemental, sexy smirk adorning his lips as he sees how fucked out you are. Your mouth open as you moan, and your half lidded eyes occasionally closing from the bliss.
“Fucking hell… you’re so good for me, (Y/N). You take my cock so fucking well, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan as Chan’s hand grips harder on your hair, craning your neck. “Mmm… Baby girl can’t even talk to me… I know I said to shut it…” he laughs darkly through his moans, and your moans get louder when Chan lets go of your hair, letting your face fall back onto his shoulder as his hands grip your ass. Kneading them as he fucks himself into you. You clench helplessly around his cock.
“Oh… fuck, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You wanna cum around my cock, baby girl?” You nod frantically, your climax climbing up as you push your body back to meet with Chan’s aggressive thrusts. Your overstimulated cunt only being destroyed by Chan’s cock as he thrusts harder into you, his hips staggering slightly as you clench around him. “Mmm! - Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Chan growls out as his hand grips your face again, forcing your head up as your eyes roll into the back of your head, a loud string of moans escaping your lips as you cum all over Chan’s cock, and he pulls out just quick enough to spurt out a string of cum along your ass.
He lets go of your face, and you breath heavily as you rest your head on Chan’s chest, closing your eyes to catch your breath. A burning sensation still resting in your core as you relax, your womanhood’s muscles contracting every now and then from the orgasm.
Chan cleans you both up with a napkin he had in the center console and helped you put your jeans back on (deciding to toss your soiled panties) and he slipped his jeans back on silently. It’s not until you’re sitting on his lap, resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat when he speaks.
“You know I love you so much, right?” Chan mumbles out, and you look up to him. “I was so mean to you today… when you must’ve been so confused.” His head falls back, and he looks out the window with a longing look in his eyes, “I’m the worst boyfriend in the world, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not. Don’t even think things like that. Yes, I am still a bit upset, but you know what? We’re going to get past this because I love you, too, Channie.” You stare at him with an adoring expression adorning your sparkling eyes (trying to ignore the burning in your core).
“You… You want to know the real reason I’m a street racer, (Y/N)? Why the fuck I'm doing this?” Chan asks softly, his hand stroking your hair.
“If you could… I’ve been asking all day,” you chuckle softly, and Chan smiles bitterly.
“Well… I… I’m doing this all for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“No job will pay for the things I want to give you, (Y/N).” He turns over, reaching into the center console to pull out a black box, and your eyes widen as he opens it. You can’t see it, but you can barely see the sparkle of a something reflective. “I… I couldn’t pay for this myself. I knew I couldn’t. I hate how this is how I’m asking you… but, (Y/N), will you-”
“Oh my god, yes!”
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huntingforsatisfaction · 3 years ago
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Pink Promise
Pairing: Dean Winchester X younger sibling reader(not in an incest way)
Summary: Dean is there to help his younger sibling after they have a nightmare 
Words: 2211
Warnings: fairly angsty, but still very very fluffy, a detailed nightmare, mentions of John Winchester’s parenting style, bad writing?, like one cuss word, a tiny tiny bit of gore
Note about characters: in the present scenes the reader is 16 and in the flashbacks they’re 6 and the reader and Dean have like a 13/14 year age gap so he’s like 19/20 in the flashbacks, there isn’t any gendered terms for the reader so it’s neutral(unless you count hair being braided as a gendered term, but boys can have braided hair cause gender isn’t real), and finally this takes place in season 5
Dean woke up, not for any purpose, just one of those weird moments where you randomly wake up in the middle of the night. He shook his head and began fluffing his pillow, stopping when he heard soft crying.
“(Y/N)?” He softly called out.
You were laying with your back facing out and your face squished into the musty cushions of the small motel room couch, a failed attempt at muffling your cries.
“Y-Yeah Dean? Something wrong?” You tried to play it off.
“I was gonna ask you the same thing. Were you crying?”
When you guys first got your room Dean cursed the streetlight right outside the window, but now he watched how it illuminated you as you dropped your head down.
“Nightmare?”
You looked up and made eye contact before slowly nodding a yes.
“Think you’re gonna be able to go back to sleep?”
You dropped your gaze again as your face screwed up and you could feel new tears form on your lash line.
“No.” You softly croaked out, barely audible over Sam’s snores.
                                                   ~Flashback~
You couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying quiet to risk opening your mouth. Once the sting in your eyes and the back of your throat calmed down you went back to sleep.
“Sammy?”
You screamed out running through an old grey house.
“No no no please no!” You heard him scream somewhere you couldn’t find.
“Sammy!” You huffed before taking off running down the hall you came from.
As you ran around the house you felt small and helpless, like when you got separated from your brothers in the corn maze at the pumpkin patch in Iowa, the one Dean took you to without your dad knowing.
“Dean?” You desperately called for your brother as your feet pounded against the floor. 
Completely unaware of your surroundings you ran, the only thing on your mind was finding your brother. Not paying attention to your surroundings you tripped, your heart raced knowing how your dad always got on you for that. You got up and looked down to see what sent you flying to the cracked floorboards.
“Dean!” You screamed
You woke up again, heart pounding in your head and toes. You stopped gasping for air when you felt your dad roll over next to you, holding it in again to stay quiet. Collecting your moose and your blanket, the one you got in Oregon when you were 3 and have refused to sleep without ever since, you slipped off of the bed as silently as possible. Your dad and Dean were fumigating a house in a fancy neighborhood so the only hotel available was a little nicer than your usual moldy motels. The vinyl floorboards stayed quiet as you snuck over to the door that joined your brothers’ room to you and your dad’s. You glanced at your brothers sleeping in their beds before moving their jackets off of the chair that sat in the corner. Dropping your blanket on the floor you traded it for the two flannels that were under their jackets and curled up into the chair. Once you were comfortable you finally let the tears flow, crying softly at first and burying your face into Mort the moose as your chest heaved more and more with the weight of your cries. 
 “(Y/N)?” You heard Dean call out in confusion as he shut the drawer of his nightstand. 
 “S-sorry for waking you up.” You tossed off the flannels and picked up your blanket, heading back to your proper room.
 “No, no, hey, hey, come here.” Dean moved over in his bed and opened his arms, lightly flicking his wrist to call you over to him. 
You gingerly padded over to his bed and with a little effort jumped up.
 “I’m gonna guess it wasn’t growing pains that woke you up.” Dean chuckled. 
 “Ok, I’m sorry, bad timing. Now come on peanut, stop giving me that face and come in closer.” He said shifting so he could comfortably open up his arms for you. 
You still continued to pout, but scooted into his embrace until your body felt lighter. 
“Sorry.” You quietly mumbled, it came out kind of funny because of how your cheek was squished against your brother’s chest. 
Dean pulled back and nudged your chin up, signaling you to make eye contact  with him before resting his hand on your shoulder. His comforting softness melted away as he turned dead serious. 
“Listen to me, do not ever and I mean ever apologize to someone because you’re upset. Ok?” He searched your eyes waiting for an answer, which you gave him with a nod. 
“Now tell me why someone broke into my room and stole my favorite flannel.” And just like that Dean pulled you back into him and your softy of a brother was back.
“Dad yells at me when I don’t sleep and when I cry and when I ask him questions, so I came in here to cry” Even your big brother’s arms couldn’t shield you from the sadness that entered your body.
“Well I’m not dad, neither is Mort the moose, and neither is Sammy.” Dean started.
“Sammy snores now, he’s old.” You shot Sam a dirty look even though he was dead asleep.
“Yeah Sammy is old now, he drools too.” Dean joined you in giving his younger brother the stink eye. “Now tell me, what has my peanut so upset?”
“Nightmare.” 
“Nightmare? Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean began playing with your hair as he awaited your response.
Staring up at your older brother’s face you thought about it. 
“No.” You wanted to say what happened, to get it out of your mind, but you didn’t want to tell him about how you saw his still body covered in blood with his stomach in shreds. 
“No? That’s okay.” 
You guys sat quietly listening to the traffic outside and Sam’s snores. After a while Dean assumed you had fallen asleep, but just as he shut his own eyes your little voice stirred him.
“D?”
“Mm, yeah (Y/N)?’
“Are monsters real?”
                                                       ~Present~
Dean watched you hang your head again before scooting to the side and opening up his covers.
“Wanna talk about it kid?”
Even in your sad and scared state a genuine smile broke out across your face, it was small, but still genuine. Without responding to your brother you kicked off the soft blanket that you had fought Sam for and walked over to Dean’s bed. Since motel beds are always oddly tall you had to do a little jump to get onto it, shooting a quick glare at Dean for being clearly amused at your struggle. Tentatively Dean opened up his arms to you and you awkwardly shuffled in until your head hit his shoulder and you instantly melted. The both of you sat there without a word, wondering what the other was thinking, unaware that you were both thinking the same thing. You thought about how long it had been since you two laid like this, both of you becoming aware of how long it had really been since you showed each other affection and comfort, and how after all of these years you two felt so natural. Neither of you took into account how the other’s muscles softened, how the past few years of Azazel, the door to Hell, your dad’s death, Sam’s death, Dean’s death, demons, vampires, and vengeful spirits all released from your guys’ bodies. For the first time in months neither of you cared about Lucifer or Michael or any other dick with wings. 
“Hey Dean.” You finally broke the near silence.
“Yeah?” Your ear being pressed to Dean’s chest made his voice sound deeper and you could feel his jaw move against the top of your head. 
“Do you remember when I was super young and we were staying at that nice hotel in Seattle and I had that really bad nightmare?” You slipped the comforter under your brother’s arm so you could fidget with it.
“Yeah I do actually, but how the hell do you remember it? You were like what, six? So that means it was ten whole years ago.” 
“I don’t think I would remember it if it wasn’t the start of the recurring nightmare I always have.” The first part was a lie. That night had been the first time you ever truly felt like you had a family, the first time you had felt comfort in your life. You could never forget that. 
“Oh.” Dean began to play with your hair, taking three small pieces and trying to see if he could still remember how to braid, something he learned because you hated how John would always cut your hair. 
“This dream,” you started, “it’s bad. It’s always the same house, this weird grey one with cracked floors and for some reason the walls are cement. It’s weird. But in the dream I can never find my way, it’s like a labyrinth and every time I get more and more lost the hallways get darker and darker. It always starts with me screaming for Sammy and he doesn’t respond, but I can hear him. I can hear him.”, Your voice begins to break, “I can hear him screaming no over and over again, like he’s getting attacked and then when I call out for him again he’s silent. So I’ll start running to find him, I guess I’ve always had a hunter's instinct. Then when I’m running around I trip and every time I trip I always get this feeling of fear about dad yelling at me for always being clumsy. But then when I. '' You stop, dropping your head and gaze so far down that all you can see is your own chest. Dean drops the chunk of hair he was twisting in his fingers and looks down at you.
“It’s okay.” He whispers, lightly squeezing your arm to ground you, something he always does when you’re upset. 
His encouragement only made things worse as tears began to fall again. Closing your eyes you take a quick deep breath.
“When I look down to see what I tripped over it’s you. You’re dead. Bloody with your stomach all ripped up, I never see the monster, but it must be something with claws. Then it just ends there. Tonight was kind of different though. Our ages are always different in the dream. Sammy’s voice always sounds like it did when he was 16 so I don’t think he changes, but sometimes I’m a kid and you’re a teenager like when I first had it or we’re both teenagers or we’re the ages we are now or sometimes I’m a kid and you’re an adult. But tonight, tonight I was 16 like I am now and you were a little kid.”
                                                      ~Flashback~
Dean didn’t know what to do, he felt like the deer that stopped in the headlights and actually got hit. He’d been through this before with Sam, but he had been older and wasn’t already upset when they had the conversation. He had felt guilty every time he lied to Sam about monsters and didn’t want to give you that same false hope, but he resented his dad for teaching him about monsters when he was this young. 
“I’m not sure of anything, (Y/N).” It technically wasn’t a lie, while Dean was sure that monsters existed he wasn’t sure of what to tell you.
“Well actually no, I am sure of one thing. Nothing and I mean nothing, no man, no woman, no animal, and sure as hell no monsters will ever hurt you because you are strong and I will kick their butt if they even try.” Dean meant that fully, he’s meant that since the day his dad sat him and Sam down to tell them they have a little sibling.
“Pink promise?” You said looking up at Dean.
“Pink promise?” He pulled back and questioned you.
“A pink promise.” You huffed, freeing your arm out from under Dean’s and extending your pinky finger.
“Oohh, a pinky promise.” Dean held up his arm and extended his own pinky.
“No, it’s pink promise.” You pulled your hand back.
“Ok, I pink promise that nothing will ever hurt you.” And to that you guys joined pinkies.
                                                     ~Present~
You begin to quietly sob into your brother’s chest. Dean put his hand at the nape of your neck and put his cheek on the top of your head and let you cry it out, as you calmed down he pulled back and kissed your forehead.
“Hey look, peanut. Sammy and I are not going anywhere, we will always be with you, ok. A lot is going on right now and it will all be okay, we’ve gotten out of so many situations that we shouldn’t have and this one will be no different. I pink promise.” Dean raised up his arm and extended his pinky.
“Oh fuck off.” You lightly hit his hand. 
Unfazed Dean kept his hand up and smugly smiled down at you. You sigh and extend your own pinky. As your fingers wrapped around each other your annoyed façade broke, your smile was joined by a few tears.
“Pink promise.”
A/N: So hey, your local forest wench here. This is definitely different from other stuff I post. I’ve never written a fanfiction before(so basically sorry if it’s not too good and please be patient with me), but I do read a lot of of it and maladaptive daydream a lot so I always have plenty of ideas. I came up with this idea this morning and really liked it, thought that maybe other people would like it and that it would be kind of greedy to keep it to myself. I’m actually really insanely proud of this ngl. If people like this and I feel comfortable, I might even write some more in the future.
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hyunsuks-beanie · 3 years ago
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TXT when they accidentally use your insecurity against you in an argument
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A/N: So I wanted to write something for my babies TXT, and I'm a sucker for angst with fluffy endings.... So, here we go again!
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Yeonjun
"I like this dress Yeonjun. And I'm not gonna change out of it, so cut it out," you huff, annoyed at your boyfriend pestering you to change into something else, something a bit less revealing (in his opinion). "Babe no, trust me. This dress isn't all that good. It looked good in your closet, but it's not looking good on you." "Uh huh, and why should I believe that? I tried it out in front of my friends, and they said I looked really nice wearing it," you counter. When he doesn't say anything and just glares at you, you ask him again, "Come on Jun. What is it? Tell me. Give me a solid reason, and maybe I'll change out of it. Although I think there isn't a real reason, you're just being overprot-" Yeonjun loses his cool very easily, and you just crossed the line by pointing out the truth.
"Oh shut up Y/N," he cuts you off, raising his voice. "You're wayyyy too curvy for this dress. It makes you look fat and desperate." When you don't reply, he turns around to see tears welling up in your eyes. It's only then that he realizes what he's said. He just used your biggest insecurity against you, and he can do nothing but watch you run up the stairs to your bedroom, crying. He decides to give you some space, but ten minutes later, he's at the bedroom door, unable to stay away from you any longer. He enters slowly, only to see you bawling your eyes out after having changed out the dress. "Y/N, baby...," he whimpers, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I know I'm a jerk, but I just want to say, you are right. I was being overprotective."
(Rest of the members are under the cut!)
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Soobin
"Soobin, stop practicing and eat something. You must be starving," you smile at your boyfriend, who is busy practicing for a comeback. He doesn't reply, and after five minutes, you beckon him again. "Soobin, ea-," he cuts you off by loudly saying, "Gosh Y/N, stop being so clingy and annoying." You're taken aback by his sudden outburst. Your Soobin never talks to you this way. " Soobin I just," you start again, only to have him cut you off again. "Can't you see I'm practicing? Can't you see I have better things in life to do, than to eat with you? I swear, when I agreed to dating you, I didn't know you were such an attention-seeker," he says without turning around.
Needless to say, you walk out the door as soon as he's done talking, and what's worse is that he doesn't even notice. Hours later, once he finally nails the choreography, he looks down at the food, and gratitude and guilt wash over him. He tries calling you, but you don't pick up, and that's when he knows he's screwed up big time. He quickly goes home, only to find you asleep on the couch after having cried your eyes out. He wants to leave you be, but he knows he needs to apologize. So he gently shakes you awake, before saying, "I'm so sorry Y/N. This one's one me."
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Beomgyu
"Beomgyu, can we please go out? The weather is so nice!!," you say to your boyfriend, who's busy playing video games. "Maybe later baby. I'm busy right now." "You're always busy," you mutter under your breath, which, thankfully, Beomgyu doesn't hear. He's had a hectic month at the company, and now that he finally had a day off, instead of spending time with you, he's bust playing video games. You are a supportive partner, you really are. But Beomgyu is being really thick right now, and you can't help but sigh. A while later though, you try again, "Beomgyu....are you done yet?," You ask excitedly. You half expected a cold response, but what you didn't expect was a glare from him. "Gosh Y/N, what the hell are you so loud for? It's giving me a headache, and it made me lose the game," he says loudly. "I-I'm sorry, I d-didn't know," you try to reason.
"I have one day off in a whole month, and you don't even have the decency to let me enjoy what I like doing? I don't like going out with you anyway, you're boring," he lowers his voice, but you still hear. Your shock turns into annoyance, as you say, "Oh I'm so sorry. I'll leave you to your stupid game." With that, you walk out the door, determined to not let your stupid boyfriend ruin your mood on such a nice day. Beomgyu decides to restart the game, when another player says, "Dude, did you even hear yourself? Is that any way to talk to your partner? You know they're right man, apologize to them." This manages to knock some sense into Beomgyu, and makes him feel guilty. He walks out of the house, knowing full well you must've gone to Han River. He has no trouble finding you, and as soon as he sees you, sitting on the grass under a tree, he comes up slowly behind you. When you're in his reach, he wraps his arms around you, whispering a soft "I'm sorry."
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Taehyun
You like Taehyun. You really do. And so, you're always trying to find ways to talk to him. But he's been busy this week, and you didn't want to come off as too annoying or too desperate, so you decided to hang out with Huening Kai more. He's a good friend of yours, who knows about your crush on Taehyun. You guys have been fooling around for a couple days, and, unbeknownst to you, Taehyun hasn't been liking how close you two seem. One day, you went up to Hyuka, asking him if he wanted to hang out. Taehyun was sitting close by, working on his laptop. He gets jealous seeing you approaching his best friend instead of him, and before the younger boy can reply, he quips, "Y/N, are you always this desperate? First it used to be me. Now it's Huening Kai. Who's gonna be next? Jungkook hyung? Or Jungwon?" You're shocked at this, since Taehyun just called you what you had been trying to avoid being called. "I'll talk to you later," you say to Huening Kai, before turning away and leaving. "Dude, that was totally uncalled for. She's been hanging out with me because she didn't want to disturb you seeing as how busy you are. And look at you, being a total jerk," Hyuka says to Taehyun. It's then that he realizes his mess up, and he quickly gets up, hoping to catch you before you leave. He sees your form about to exit the building, and he jogs up to you before grabbing hold of your hand and turning you around. "Look, I know I messed up. I just got jealous, I'm so sorry," he says.
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Huening Kai
Hyuka enters your shared apartment, and soon as you see him, you know something is up. He seems pissed, or actually, beyond pissed. "Hyuka, baby, what's wrong? Did something happen?" "Oh nothing much, just the hyungs teasing me like always," he says in mock nonchalance. You see through it though, and ask, "Why? Should I go fight with them for upsetting you?" You meant this only as a joke, but it's enough to make Huening Kai raise his voice, and say "No Y/N. I don't need your help! I don't need you to fight anyone on my behalf, I don't need you to check up on me, I don't need you to send me food. Quit being so nagging. You're not my mom, so stop acting like one."
You're at a loss for words. You thought that your boyfriend liked being looked after, but apparently, you were wrong. You feel guilty for embarrassing him, for being the reason he's upset. "I-I'm sorry, I promise, I won't nag you anymore. I didn't know you didn't like me looking after you. Sorry I embarrassed you," you say, mustering a weak smile. Even though he had said the same words minutes ago, seeing you repeat them makes him realize how rude he's been to you, when all you've been doing was looking out for him. He hugs you super tight, catching you by surprise. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out like that."
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hufflepuffsthunderdome · 4 years ago
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Hopelessly Devoted to You | R.L
Pairing: Marauders!Remus Lupin x Female Reader
Warnings: None :)
Words: 3,200
Request: @risingtripletaurus​ hi lovey! may i pretty please request a fic with the reader very much in the halloween spirit, celebrating halloween the marauders.. remus and the reader also lowkey have a crush on eachother rEMUS HOPES HE GETS ALL THE CHOCOLATE WHEN TRICK OR TREATING over all just a very fluffy time!
A/N: sorry this is so late, a lot has been happening in my personal life. I hope you enjoy! I took it in a slightly different direction that I hope you like anyway, it’s still a fluffy spooky time so I hope you enjoy. I really like this one :). I also have an idea for a part two so keep an eye out... also I know that Grease technically came out after the Marauders were at Hogwarts, I just thought it was cute anyway.
Summary: Reader and Remus are crushing hard, and what better way than an accidental couples costume and a Halloween party to get the pair together
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Y/N and Sirius came bounding through the doors to the Gryffindor common room with so much force Peter grimaced as the walls shook around them. Their hands were loaded with boxes, overflowing with black and orange decorations, cheap spiders and what seems like an insane match of costumes and clothes. It wasn’t even the start of October, but whenever the season rolled around even slight, Y/N and Sirius went all out! For the pair, it seemed that they were built for the season, putting care and thought into their costumes and the treats they would make everyone; their energy infections, getting everyone else in the school hyped for the spooky season months in advance. 
Even Remus let himself loose around the Halloween season, knowing how happy it made Y/N when he would join in on the corny games that she and Sirius worked so hard to make. And he lived to make Y/N happy; to see that goofy smile that she would give him as she looked up at the lanky boy, melting his heart even more around Halloween when she would be dressed in an adorable hand made costume. 
His friends all knew, about Remus’s crush on Y/N. Honestly, it seemed that everyone in the whole school knew that the boy was smitten except Y/N, they just strolled around the castle, unaware of the boys lingering stares and wistful glances. He had a plan though, to change that. Well, Sirius and James had a plan. A plan that he wasn’t privy to despite being a leading role in it. 
Sirius dumped the box onto the couch next to James, who was prying the lid open before it even landed, to pear inside. He pulled out all sorts of different costumes, Y/N’s box joining next to it, Gryffindor written in scratchy writing on the side, full of decorations and gags to put up around the common room. 
“Sirius,” James laughs, pulling out a tight black off the shoulder top, “you’d look great in this mate but it’s a stretch to think it’ll fit you.”
Y/N rolls their eyes, taking it out of James’s hand and holding it up to their smaller frame, “it’s mine you nit.” 
Sirius comes up behind Y/N and slings an arm over her shoulder, “we’re doing a couple’s costume this year.” The pair struck a cheesy Charlie’s angels style pose as they giggle. Remus knows it’s stupid but he can’t help the hot feeling boiling in his stomach at how close Sirius and Y/N are. He knows it’s stupid, he has no reason to be jealous; Sirius knows that Remus likes Y/N, and he knows they’re just friends, but he can’t help it. He wants to be the one to make Y/N laugh, to be able to sling an arm around her without making a fool of himself, to be able to do cute couple costumes that Y/N is excited to make. 
“What are you going as?” Peter’s voice breaks Remus’s train of thought, the shorter boy hanging over the back of the couch to rummage through the box himself. He pulls out a pirate hat and an eyepatch, laughing slightly as he puts them next to him. 
“We’re going as Sandy and Danny from Grease,” Sirius says, shooting James a look that he just returns with a nod, sending me a glance as he smirks slightly. 
“I’m so excited to do it,” Y/N chimes, reaching a hand up to grab onto Sirius’s arm slightly before turning back to us with a wide smile on her face, “It’s that muggle musical I was telling you about, the one set in the 50s. We’re going as the two main characters!”
James gets up from his seat on the couch behind Y/N, walking over to the pair and placing his arms around them, “I thought you were gonna do a costume with me this year Black? We’ve been working on it for months.”
With an exaggerated hand to the forehead, Sirius lets out an exasperated sigh, “shit that’s right James, fuck I’m sorry mate. We’re gonna have to save our amazing surprise costume for next year, I promised Y/N.”
“You guys were working on a costume?” Y/N asks, looking at the boys on either side of her as they nod. Remus can tell she’s slightly upset at the thought of not doing her costume she had planned but is hiding it with her excitement at her friends getting into the holiday. “That’s so cool guys, please do it! I want to see what you guys have planned.”
“But what about your costume?”
“That’s ok,” she smiles warmly back, “I have plenty of other ideas.”
“I feel super bad now,” Sirius brings Y/N into a hug to which the girl giggles and assures him it’s ok. Over Y/N shoulder he shoots Remus a wink, the boys' eyes going wide at the thought of what his friends are up to, “say, Remus is around my size isn’t he?”
All eyes in the room turn to Remus, and he feels his face heat up at the attention, glancing down at his book, “not happening.”
“Come on mate,” Sirius and James chorus, James throwing an arm around Y/N and sarcastically patting their head, adding “you don’t wanna make little Y/N sad do you?”
“Come on guys,” Y/N chuckles, slinking away under James grasp and looking over to Remus, “he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.” James and Sirius's glare daggers over Y/N’s shoulder at the boy sitting on the couch, Peter going to say something James shutting him down with a stern look before he can even get a sound out. It seems that the boys are able to have a conversation without saying a single word, ‘dude come on don't be a baby,’ James’s look taunts, Sirius’s glare telling him to not lose his chance. 
“I-I’d love to d-do the costume with you Y/N.” Remus grimaces slightly at his nervous stuttering, grinning at Y/N as they bound over to him excitedly, thanking him as she pulls him into a hug. The boy freezes for a moment, before relaxing in the shorter girls grasp and returning the hug. The pair stood there, enjoying the small moment, for slightly longer than they probably should have; as their friends just looked on smirking and chuckling to themselves as the two teens were so obliviously in love with each other. James coughed obnoxiously, breaking the pair out of their hug as they pulled apart, faces red as they smiled shyly at each other.
“Well I think I need to get going,” Y/N smiled up at the boys, ruffling Peter’s hair slightly as she walked past him, grabbing a box labelled Hufflepuff that she had placed on the floor earlier, “those Hufflepuff’s won't help themselves.” She turns and walks towards the door to the common room, turning back to Remus to smile at him and thank him one last time before she was out the door, and once again on a mission about the castle.
The instant she was gone the common room erupted into cheers, as Sirius and James loudly hollered in excitement for Remus; Peter joining in soon after, confused as to what was happening but feeling left out that he wasn’t involved. Remus however was unamused, arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at his friends, eyebrow raised as if daring them to speak.
The cheering stopped when Sirius and James noticed Remus’ upset attitude, Peter once again joining in and stopping, mumbling a small what’s happening to Sirius who brushed him off. “Oh come on mate,” James argued, mimicking Remus’ posture but with a smirk plastered on his face, “how are you possibly upset with us?”
Remus was gobsmacked at James’ question, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water as he looked at his friends trying to find the words to convey how stupid they were, “you lied to her that’s how! You got her hopes up when you knew you weren’t going to go with her. And you dragged me into your bullshit once again.”
“Oh come on mate, it’s not like that,” Sirius chimed in, trying to calm the tension forming. Leading Remus over to the couch he sat both of them down, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “besides, she was way more excited at you saying you’d go with her than she was when she brought it up to me in the first place.”
“That’s not true.”
“It so is,” Sirius argued back, “now stop being a fucking baby and grow some balls. It’ll be a great night.”
“If you’ll excuse me, lads,” James mutters, standing up from the seat he was on and heading towards the door, “but I need to catch Lily before she makes it to the library. Anyone joining?”
Sirius gets up and follows James, the pair out the door in an instant; and Peter, who is lagging behind, gets up to follow them, turning to Remus before he leaves, “don’t worry, it’s gonna be a wicked night.”
Remus can't help but chuckle slightly at Peter’s excitement, his head still swirling and his heart still racing, even after his friends leave.
The month was trekking on, October drawing to a close, much slower than Remus and Y/N would have liked. The closer it got to Halloween the more nervous excitement the two teens felt bubbling away. It was noticeable to their friends, as they would talk during break and pass each other in the hallway; both unbelievably ~excited and hopeful that the night would go how they want, and yet nervous. But that didn’t stop Y/N from getting in the festive spirit. She went all out this year, dragging along anyone and everyone that she could convince to help with her preparation. The whole school seemed to know that she was in a particularly festive mood this year, everyone in her year helping where they could, all the first years unbelievably excited over how amazing the castle looked.
As the talented young witch, she was, it was no surprise that Y/N was able to make some pretty amazing decorations. Pumpkins that would follow students around, glasses that made the teachers look like they were dressed up, the orange streamers and plastic spiders that would come to life when you walked past. Everyone was shocked by how all out Y/N was going this year, they knew she was talented, but not this talented. In the back of her mind though, Y/N knew she had to make this year perfect. 
Remus was confused when he walked down the corridors to potions one day, and the school seemed to be buzzing with excitement more than usual. Students everywhere were glancing around in excitement, peering over each other's shoulders to get a glimpse at the parchment they were all holding. As he walked up to potions class, surprisingly early for once, he heard a commotion behind him, and turned and saw Y/N and Sirius walking towards him, students around them clapping and patting them on the back in excitement. They made their way over to Remus, who was stood there seemingly entranced by Y/N. It was like she was glowing with excitement, and he couldn't help the dopy smile on his face at seeing her so happy. 
When the pair got to him Sirius pulled him into a headlock, rustling his hair slightly as he laughed, “we’re superstars we are,” he gleamed, letting go of the boy and putting an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “everyone loves us.”
“Y/N I can understand people liking, but you?” Remus says, glancing at Y/N quickly to see her face going slightly pink, as he is doing too, at his bold comment. ‘haha lover boy,’ Sirius shoots back, but Remus isn’t listening as Y/N passes him a piece of parchment, notes from last potions class. They both go to say something when the door swings open and they are being summoned inside for class. 
The boys are back in their dorms, late in the evening now, Sirius and James gasbagging about Severus while Peter listens attentively, chewing on a sweet Y/N brought to the common room earlier. Remus is trying to read his herbology textbook, trying to take notes from class today, but his mind continues to wonder. To Y/N, to Halloween, to Sirius and Y/N's friendship, he’s all over the place. As his mind is racing he feels the heat in his shirt pocket start to warm up, shocking him out of his trance as he pulls out the bit of parchment Y/N handed him earlier. He never got a chance to ask her about it, she was being pulled in every direction that day, but as he looks down at the piece of paper, no longer homework but rather an invitation now. He feels his heart start to beat harder in his chest as he turns the sheet over, Y/N’s handwriting littering the page, 
“I’m so glad you decided to come, Remus, I was hoping you would. I can’t wait to see you, I’m really glad we’re doing a costume together.”
That night Remus goes to bed with a huge grin on his face, the happiest he’s felt in ages.
Halloween day comes and goes, much slower than the school would like. The teachers drone on in their usual lessons, their patience running thin at their student's erratic excitement. No one was more excited than Y/N. The second her last class finished she was off, grabbing her friends as she went and dragging everyone to the Ravenclaw common room, where she had made it clear would be open to anyone in dire need of a last-minute costume. In came students of every house and year and out walked clowns, mimes, zombies, princesses, anything and everything they could think of, hidden from the teachers by some simple spells. 
The boys were down at the room of requirements, decorating for the party to come; the room had transformed itself into a huge dance hall, and the boys were doing everything in their power to make it a spooky extravaganza. And they were succeeding. There were jack o'lantern, punch, sweets of every size and shape, every corner of the room decorated with spooky charmed decorations, and every ceiling adorning some spider or streamers. Peter had even thought of the idea to set up a trick or treating scavenger hunt for the younger students (and some of the older students too), so there were plenty of people already coming in and out collecting clues and sweets before they weren’t allowed to be wandering the halls anymore. 
It was immaculate, seeing the room come together because of his friend's hard work, but nothing could describe the awe he felt when Y/N walked in the room. By now there were people flooding in at a regular pace, but when he heard that soft voice call his name and turned to see her, his world seemed to stop. All he could do was stare, she looked gorgeous. Not that he didn't always think she looked gorgeous, but he couldn't help but think how happy she looked, completely encompassed by the holiday spirit. She looked beautiful in her costume, her hair big and curly, and the tight leather trousers and off the shoulder top complimenting her figure perfectly. She held her self with a confidence he had never seen in the girl before, and he was amazed. 
“This is brilliant Remus,” Y/N smiles up at him, grabbing his hand as she looks around, “you guys did an amazing job.”
Remus barely processes her words as his brain is already trying to put together his next sentence, “you look incredible.”
It caught Y/N off guard his compliment, he had never been so earnest and bold with her before, and the sentiment made her blush furiously, “you look great yourself.” The teens stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, when Sirius and James sauntered over to the pair, already on the verge of drunk, and started chiding them “there’s my favourite greaser couple.”
“Don't tell me this is your incredible costume?” 
Sirius was shirtless, a studded leather jacket and black glove the only attempt at a costume, giving him a Billy Idol vibe that both Y/N and Remus didn’t even know was intentional. James was more obviously dressed up, the mouse ears on his head giving him a very distinct, albeit lazy Micky Mouse appearance. They both just shrugged at the girl, going into a tirade of drunken excuses to which Y/N just rolled her eyes, “if it makes you feel better I only did this to match with Lily,” James slurs, “turns out they were lying to me and she's wearing some bloody antlers.”
“Dear god James you’re so thick sometimes,” Y/N shook her head, turning towards Remus, “wanna go dance?”
The pair made their way into the crowds of other people dancing, ignoring James’ shouts of questions. 
The night went on, and the people kept dancing, chatting and spinning and laughing at how much fun they were having; all through the night people would come up and compliment Y/N on the party, and never once did she take full credit, always saying how much other people helped her. As the pair stood there, laughing with their friends as they danced to the ending of the monster mash, it slowly faded and didn't pick up again. A slow song began to play, and Remus looked over to see Sirius playing with the music, James giving him a thumbs up. 
Before Remus can say anything, Y/N is placing his hand on his arm, “wanna dance?” Despite both of their nerves, the pair danced together slowly, Remus’s arms around her waist, and Y/N’s around his shoulders. Both of them wanted to look at each other, to bask in how lovely they each looked but neither wanted to ruin the moment. 
Remus moved his head from where it was resting against Y/Ns, and she moved her head to look up at him, meeting that soft, goofy smile that sent her stomach tingling with butterflies. “you really do look lovely tonight, I’m so glad you asked me to come with you.”
Y/N barely knew what to say to him, it seemed that her body was moving on its own as their heads were slowly moving towards each other. “I’m glad you came with me,” she mumbled back before their lips finally connected. 
What seemed to be years in the making was finally happening, both teens dream coming true as their lips pressed softly together. All at once, Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing at yet somehow, all she could focus on was Remus, and his lips pressed against hers. It seems that the world disappeared around them, as they stood there with each other. Nothing mattered right now except them.
They pulled apart sooner than they wanted to, both could've stayed there for eternity if they had the chance. They looked into each other's eyes, hoping their shared glance could give them all the words they failed to be able to say. It was a nice moment until James’s, Sirius’s and Peter’s hollers broke through the soft ambience of the crowd, everyone looking around confused, some even joining in as Remus and Y/N just laughed slightly at their friends' antics. 
“Do you wanna do Hogsmead with me this weekend?” Y/N asked softly, grinning up at the boy. 
He leaned down to connect their lips again softly, grinning when they pulled apart, “I would love to.” 
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mediocre-writerr · 4 years ago
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look what you made me do [quinn fabray]
quinn fabray x fem reader
requested: hi hi! i absolutely adore your writing, you’re seriously one of my favs i was wondering if i could request Quinn Fabray gets into a heated argument with someone for like dissing reader and she begins threatening them, so fem!Reader, picks up Quinn and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt. Something like cute and fluffy please.
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*not my gif*
Everyone knew not to mess with Quinn Fabray. She will rain Hell on you herself. And you will not feel any type of sympathy or mercy.
Hurt her girlfriend or anyone she loved? Then you’d rather wish you were dead because she won’t give you the benefit of getting it over with. She will slowly rip off the Band-Aid to feel every pore be ripped of your skin.
And that’s exactly where Rachel Berry was, swimming with the sharks.
You know how Rachel is, you all do. But this time your girlfriend was there to witness her dissing you. All because you got the lead in the production of Waitress that you and the rest of the New Direction’s were preparing for.
“Really Mr. Shue?! Y/N’s not as talented as me and her dancing could use a lot of work! I was born for the role, Y/N could play one of the pregnant ladies who dance in the background. This is my show!” Rachel ranted and everyone groaned.
But from right next to you, you could feel Quinn stiffen, “Apologize,” she said in a really calm tone which caused everyone to freeze. That was the scary tone.
“For what? I’m just being honest!” she tried to save herself, but she was honestly digging a bigger hole.
“My girlfriend is perfect for the role! You just don’t want to admit that Y/N beat you by a long shot in the auditions. Her rendition of ‘Requiem’ easily beat your boring, overused, overplayed version of ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade’,”the blonde argued as she got up from her seat, getting dangerously close to her face.
“That is not tr-“ Rachel tried to rebuttal, but Quinn cut her off.
“Apologize right now,” she said with gritted teeth.
“No! I’m not gonna apologize for something that should be rightfully mine!” she argued.
Finn’s voice cut in between the girls, “Rach just apologize. Quinn gets really scary when she’s mad and honestly her face reminds me of when I suggested naming the baby Drizzle,”
“If you don’t apologize in two seconds I swear to God I’m gonna take that participation Regionals trophy we got and shove it right up that stuck up-“ she started to threaten, so you got up from off your seat and ran towards her.
You wrapped your arms around her waist and picked her up, carrying her towards the hallway. She started squirming in your arms which caused you to chuckle, “I’m gonna let her calm down and take a breather,” you called out before you left the room.
After you placed her on the floor you cupped her cheeks. Beginning to rub soothing circles on her jaw line. You could see a yellow tone spraying through her green eyes, something that only happens when she’s really angry. You kissed her forehead as she released a sigh.
“That was very adorable,” you said, bopping her nose which caused her to chuckle.
She shook her head, “I wasn’t trying to be adorable. I was supposed to look angry,”
“Oh you did! Everyone in there was about to shit themselves, but to me it was super cute how protective you got,” she grabbed your hand, playing with your fingers.
“I just don’t want anyone talking bad about you or hurting you,” her voice much softer now and she could barely look you in the eyes.
“I know, but I’m okay baby, I promise. Especially with a cute adorable protective girlfriend like you, I know that no one can hurt me,” you pressed a kiss to her lips and she hummed in contentment.
“Can I still beat her up?” she questioned as the two of you prepared to walk in.
“Maybe later,” you chuckled.
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I Need You
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A/N: This was found on Pinterest, so if you're the owner, let me know so I can give you the credits.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader
Word count: 2 K
Requested by anons: 1- I'm like super in love with a certain Daryl Dixon and I was wondering if you could write about them getting into a big argument and they like avoid eachother for a while (super angsty if you care lol) and then Carol and Rick just kinda make yall talk and it ends fluffy? 2 - Can i request a daryl x reader where the reader’s been with the group since atlanta, maybe set during when they’re at the prison?? daryl realizes he has a crush on the reader and just p a n i c s ? and just really sweet fluff????
Summary: After you almost get bit, Daryl loses his mind and lashes out on you. Tired of the constant arguments, the group finds a way to out you two together to try and fix things up.
{The Walking Dead Masterlist}
×
“Yer almost got bit!” Daryl shouts, voice echoing through the prison. “Yer too damn stubborn, yer not goin’ on runs anymore.” He has his back at you as you follow him, struggling to keep his pace.
“I had everything under control.” You complain, ignoring Carol's questioning stare.
You, Daryl, and Maggie went on a run earlier today. Not too far, just to get some more formula for Judith. A walker fell from the roof, and it happened to be on a specific place Daryl told you not to go. The thing's teeth got a little too close to your arm, and Daryl shot an arrow through its head.
“Ya sure did!” He stops, turning around and pointing a finger at you. “If I weren't near ya, I'd be carryin’ ya back here with a freakin’ bite.” His voice gets louder, and you never saw Daryl so... Angry. So pissed. He's scaring you. “Or would ya have me cut her damn arm off? How does that sound?”
“Stop yelling at me!” You burst out, giving his chest a push.
“I'll stop yellin’ when ya understand how stupid and dangerous that was!” He steps forward, towering over you and you never felt so small.
“We needed those antibiotics!”
“Well, I freakin’ need ya. I need ya alive! Alive and well and breathin’.” Daryl shouts, right at your face. But the moment the words come out, he stops, stepping back. He seems confused, taken aback by something. “Screw that, I need a break from savin’ yer ass.” And then, he leaves, walking fast.
Huffing, you turn around, going to your cell.
You take the longest shower you can, washing the sweat and all the disgusting things the dead left on your skin. But most of the time, you were already done, dressed, and dried. You just wanted to be away from everyone. But eventually, you have to walk out. And of course, Carol finds you on your way back to your cell.
“(Y/N), I–”
“Daryl is such an asshole.” You say cutting her off and dropping on bed. “Did you see that? Did you see how he yelled at me? As if he has the right to do so.” Getting back up you pace around.
“I just think–”
“You know what? He can go to hell.” Throwing both hands in the air, you complain. “He and his crossbow, and-and his super hot stare and the stupid angel wings vest. And the bike too. All it. Straight to hell!”
“Aren't you just–”
“Uhg! Damn it.” Crossing your arms, you sigh. “Did you hear him forbidding me to go on runs?” With your hands now on your hips, you stare at Carol. “As if! Who the hell does he think he is? My boyfriend? To hell with him.”
“Will you let me talk?”
“Sure, go ahead.” Shrugging your shoulders, you nod.
But she doesn't say anything, she just takes a deep breath and shakes her head lightly. “Look, why don't you calm down first, and then we talk.” Carol gestured at the bed and you sit down, sighing. “Good... Try to relax and deal with it after a good night's sleep.”
“I could sleep a thousand years and I'd still be mad at Daryl.” You mutter as she leaves, lying on your back with your eyes closed.
You don't know where all this anger comes from, but it's always there, waiting to flow out. You do care about him, maybe too much, but it doesn't mean he gets to yell and boss you around like that. “Asshole!” You shout one last time, arms crossing as you drown in anger.
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“I saw it,” Daryl exclaims, pacing around the guard tower, breathing and talking fast. “I saw her dyin’. I saw that thing bitin’ her, tearin’ her flesh.”
“She's fine, Daryl. You don't have to keep thinking about it.” Rick tries to calm him down, both hands raised at the archer.
“No, ya don't understand.” It's useless though. Daryl is a mess. He got into the shower as soon as (Y/N) got out, rubbing the walker's blood out of his skin. But after that, he went straight to Rick because he needs to vent. He needs to yell and understand why he feels so damn scared.
Why he feels like a switch was turned on, lighting up something that was there all along, but only now was brought to light.
Losing anyone from his group, from his family would hurt bad.
But he just found out that losing her would be far worse.
“I her dyin’, man.” He slows down, both hands on his head. “I saw her dyin’ and–”
“You love her.”
“What the hell, Rick?” He snaps, a hand violently gesturing at his friend.
“You might not want to admit it, but it's true. You know it.” Rick nods, a hand casually resenting on his holster. “We all know it since Atlanta. She loves you too.”
Daryl grunts, turning his back at Rick. “Yer crazy. And so is she.”
“You should sit and talk like civilized people.”
“I ain't gonna talk to her. Crazy chick.” He mutters, grabbing his crossbow a bit tighter. “She ain't goin’ on runs anymore. At least not without me.”
“Daryl–”
“Gotta go.” The archer cuts him off, leaving the guard tower at a fast pace.
He didn't like the ideas Rick put in his head.
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“Rick wants to make a room for Carl and Judith on the second floor,” Carol says as you climb the stairs next to her. “So we're cleaning up the cells.”
“Alright.” You don't really want to help. Not today at least. The nap you took didn't help much with the last issue, and you're considering going out tomorrow, just to clear your head a bit. “What do you need me to do?”
“We're just setting things up.”
“Mmm.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair as you follow her pace. Carol takes you to the very back of the corridor, to a pretty isolated cell. “You gonna put the kids here? This cell sucks. It's too–” You stop talking when you see Daryl inside, eyes-rolling. “Look, I won't help if he helps.” It sounds childish, but you don't care. You're far too pissed at the man to be near him.
“Look, I don't care if you guys argued.” Rick walks over you, friendly touching your arm. “You two just have to get your shkt together.” And you're suddenly pushed, almost stumbling inside the cell.
“What the hell?” You shout, but the moment you move, Rick pulls the bars close locking you inside. “Rick, drop it. I'm not joking.” Holding the bars, you shoot him and Carol an angry stare. “Open up.”
“There are blankets and dinner will be brought to you,” Carol says, arms crossed. “We did that because it's the only way to force you guys to talk.”
“Yeah. You'll have the whole night to figure out whatever has you both always at each other's throat.” Rick adds, sliding the key into his pocket. “Have a nice time.”
And like that, both jerks leave, talking something you can't hear. Sighing, you lay your forehead on the cold metal bars, not wanting to look at your company for the night.
“Yer can take the bed.” He says after a while.
“Obviously.” You're quick to snap. “It's your fault we're here in the first place.”
“How's that?”
“If you didn't come back from the run making a hell of a show about something that didn't even happen, we wouldn't be locked up in here.” Turning around, with both hands on your hips, you stare at him.
“If ya had listened to me, ya wouldn't have–”
“And why in the hell do I have to listen to you, Dixon? I know my way out there as well as you do.”
“ ‘Cause I jus’ wanna keep ya safe.” He's yelling again, stepping forward.
“Stop acting like I mean anything to you!” With a finger on his face, you move closer to him. You wish you could look intimidating, but being so small, that's very difficult.
“Maybe ya do mean somethin’ ta’ me! How could ya know that if ya never ask!”
“Well, I–” The answer is cut short when your furious brain processes what he just said. Furrowing your eyebrows together, you shrug your shoulders. “What do you mean?”
“Nothin’.”
“Daryl, what do you mean?” Raising your voice again, you follow him as he moves further into the cell. “What would you answer if I ask?”
“I ain't gonna answer.”
“Daryl–”
“I ain't gonna answer!” He shouts again, turning around to look at you.
Taking a deep breath, you sit on the edge of the bed, folding a leg under you. “Do you hate me?”
“What?”
“Do you hate me, Daryl?” Your voice is lower now because you do want to know.
He remains silent for a while, those blue eyes locked on yours. “No.”
“Then why–”
“I can't lose ya.” He bursts out, eyes now looking at the floor. “At that moment back there, I... I saw it happenin’. I saw ya dyin’, and I... I can't lose ya. I can't see ya gettin’ hurt.”
His voice is so low you can barely hear it. You've never seen Daryl so... Scared. Vulnerable. “You can't protect me all the time, Daryl. Accidents happen.”
“I can. I can keep ya safe if ya listen to me.” You're about to protest when Daryl comes to sit next to you, eyes on the wall across the cell. “I know ya can survive out there. But my mind works in a thousand different ways ta’ get stuff done without anyone gettin’ hurt. I need ya ta’ trust me. Ta’ believe I can keep ya safe.”
“But I need you to believe me too. To believe I can do this.” Turning your body towards him, you friendly touches his arm. “Daryl, I... I like you... A lot. And I admire you, I trust you. You taught me so much and I need you to trust me. I promise I'll be more careful, but I need you to–”
“Don't go out there without me.” He suddenly says, voice heavy. “I trust ya. Yer brave and strong. But if ya go out there and I can't keep my eyes on ya... I'll lose my damn mind.”
“Alright.” Nodding, you sigh, smiling a little. “Just don't yell at me again, Daryl Dixon.”
“Yer almost died and I... Damn it, (Y/N), –”
“I like you too, Dixon.” Standing up to your feet, you smile, looking down at him. “You don't have to say if you don't want to, just... Let's get this over with. The world is a freaking mess and if you like me and I like you we should be together.” You can't believe you're saying this, after so long. But it feels good. You feel good, secure. “Just let me know what you want.”
“Ya.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.” He nods, blue eyes locked on yours.
“Alright.” Mirroring his head movement, you clear your throat, cheeks burning. After a few seconds of silence, you walk to the bars. “RICK! CAROL! Daryl and I are dating now, can we go?” You yell, and the low chattering downstairs goes silent.
“Would it be so bad ta' stay locked in here with me for a night?” Daryl asks, and you turn around, biting your lip to hold back a smile.
“Absolutely not.” Shrugging your shoulders, you slowly move to the bed, climbing on and lying down. “I'm actually sleepy and it's cold so it'll be nice to have someone to warm me up at night.”
“Don't push it.”
“I'm not.” Giggling, you feel as he lies down, close enough so his shoulder is touching your back. “Night, D. It was good to sort things out with you.”
“Good night, pretty girl.” He mutters and you smile, eyes closing and sleep easily overcoming you, thanks to the amazing feeling of having Daryl lying next to you.
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