#instead of yelling at me and making me want to hide in the bathroom

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

Friends? Just Friends?

After years of being friends with Billie, the sexual tension comes to an all time high and can’t be ignored any longer. You finally let her teach you exactly what it feels like to be with a woman

This is super long but I promise it’s worth it ;)

Y/N Pov

I walk over to the speaker, turn it on, and ask Billie what playlist she wants to hear. It’s a chill Sunday afternoon, and after Billie and I woke up around noon, we’ve been lying in bed watching TikTok and yapping. Billie slept over last night after a late night at a friend's party. It seems like these days I don’t spend many nights without Billie in my bed, or me in hers. We’ve been friends for years but a while ago we both expressed how bored and lonely we each had been, and started hanging out almost all the time. Now a few months later, she's definitely my best friend, always attached to each other's hips. I finally pulled myself out of bed a little while ago, and now it is unfortunately time for my Sunday routine. Billie knows it well by now since she’s been forced to be a part of it week after week.

“Let's do some bossa nova this week, I’m in the mood to move my hips” Billie laughs back at my question. We’ve bonded over our love for international music and it has been slowly added into the Sunday routine, choosing a different type each week once I finally force myself out of bed, cleaning up my room while Billie's lazy ass stays under the comfy sheets goofing off on her phone and telling me all her crazy thoughts. She starts seductively moving her hips beneath the blankets as she laughs and hums to the Brazilian guitar purring through the speaker. I look over at her as I lean down to pick up the dirty clothes that have accumulated in the corner of my room, laughing back at her.

As I stand up and try to turn around, I feel my foot slide out from under me, seemingly having been planted on a dirty pair of underwear I missed. I hit the floor with a loud thunk and Billie darts to the corner of the bed, not even trying to hide her laughter as she tries to calm down long enough to ask if I’m okay. I turn my head to follow her voice, and all I can see is her head extending off the bed, hovering over me, leaving me laughing just as loud as she is. “Oh my god, I will never not make fun of your clutsy ass ending up on the floor” she yells out between her giggles, trying hard to catch her breath as she points down at me laughing more as she mocks my fake hurt face.

I grab the first thing I can find next to me and throw it at her face before pretending I’m mad, yelling for her to quit being a bitch and help me get up. She dramatically dodges whatever it is coming for her face then leans her hand up catching it. As she opens her hand and realizes it's my black thong I wore last night, she acts as if shes absolutely disgusted before she laughs and throws it back at me. “Bitch don’t you ever throw ur crusty ass panties at my face again,” she says with a tight smile, letting me know she doesn’t actually care. I open my mouth gasping at her words, “crusty? Whose panties you calling crusty cuz they sure as hell aren’t mine” I say, before standing up from the floor and grabbing them to add them to the laundry bin. “My kitty is nice and clean, and so are my underwear,” I add, as I turn to her, knowing she hates when I call it my kitty.

“Yea yea,” she laughs, before jumping off the bed, “I bet it is,” she whispers, leaning her head close to mine before winking and walking to the bathroom. I take a second to look for something next to say, not coming up with anything. Billie and I have always walked a fine line of flirting and just joking around as friends. It's clear we both do it, but we’ve never acknowledged it. Instead, it just stays in our presence, like a thick tension we pretend we don’t feel. I feel it all too well though, always holding an intense attraction to her, since the day I met her. Quite honestly it was even before that, when I was still just a fan of hers and never thought I’d end up her best friend. That is another whole story though.

Ever since I told Billie I thought I might be gay, the tension has only grown, yet we continue not to recognize it, like we are both terrified of what might happen if we do. I decide in a split second to be bold, regretting the words as soon as they come out of my mouth, “Nice and clean and with no one to show it to,” Billie whips her head back at me with a smile, toothpaste spilling out the sides as she laughs and wipes it away, rubbing it shamelessly on the big t-shirt she slept in. I giggle a bit before finding my confidence again. Maybe this damn bossa nova is getting to my head but I feel the tension as thick as its ever been. I catch a look in her eyes that I haven’t seen before, like shes thinking about what I look like under these boxers. “No *girl* to show it to”, adding emphasis to my words as I correct my previous statement.

I turn around and walk towards my desk as silence falls between us. I begin picking up all the makeup on my vanity, continuing on with my cleaning, letting the bossa nova fill my head again. I can hear Billie finishing in the bathroom, clinking her toothbrush on the side of the sink before setting it back in the cup and walking into my room again. She settles on the edge of the bed in criss-cross, watching me clean and hum along with the guitar.

“So you’ve thought more about it then, huh?” she asks me delicately, knowing we haven’t talked about it in a while. I look into the mirror and find her eyes on the bed behind me, eyes that have already found me. I turn around to face her before I shrug my shoulder. “I mean I think about it constantly, I just feel so nervous about it all. I really think I’m into women but I don't know where to go from here” I answer her, but continue on after a brief pause. “Actually, I know I’m into women, regardless it's scary as fuck…. Women are scary as fuck” I laugh out. “You’re cute,” Billie says with a little giggle. It comes out in a friendly way, but the way she continues to stare at me after she says it doesn’t match the solely friendly tone of voice. I pick up a shirt lying on the bench of my vanity and throw it at her head, harder than the panties this morning. It hits her right on the forehead and she sprawls out on the bed dramatically, acting far more hurt than she was. “Oh stop being dramatic and get ur lazy ass up, it's time to go downstairs and clean the kitchen,” I say as I walk over and pull her up by her arms. As I let go and walk out of the room with Billie following behind me, I turn to look at her, “at least it wasn’t another pair of my nasty crusty disgusting thongs” I saw with a big mocking smile, puckering my lips sending her fake kisses like we always do when we are making fun of each other. Yet again we have managed to completely ignore the tension we are both choking on.

TIME JUMP TO THAT NIGHT

Billie and I are sitting on the couch waiting for our postmates to arrive and watching some shitty rom com on that we both picked from the image alone. We already had cold vegan pizza for dinner and are on our second bottle of wine. This is just another classic sunday evening, junk food, wine, and a postmated dessert to finish off the normal routine. When I first met Billie I watched as she drank her sodas and water while everyone else around her drank mixed drinks and beer. She made it clear publicly that she didnt drink, and when I finally asked her why she told me she had no problem with alcohol or the idea of drinking she just hated every drink she ever tried.

One night when we very first started these constant sleepovers she tried a taste of my favorite wine and loved it. A few weeks later she and I shared a bottle and I had the privilege of watching her experience the drunk world for the first time. Nowadays, we usually each have a glass every Sunday night, and occasionally we will have a girl's night and drink more than a few glasses while we watch shitty movies. Tonight was turning into one of those nights, having just stocked up on our favorite when I went to Target earlier. I walk into the kitchen to pop open the second bottle and ask if Billie wants more. She excitedly grabs her glass and runs into the kitchen after me, purposely sliding with her socks on the kitchen tile as she laughs.

The couple of times Billie has ever been drunk have all been with me, and it’s very clear she is a goofy drunk. This girl is already the funniest person I know when she is sober, but being around her while she's drunk has my abs hurting from laughing. She is quite a lightweight, with her infrequent drinking and her tiny body, so usually we just finish a bottle and a half, before we get messy drunk. We both enjoy being just past tipsy, still in control, still with a filter to our thoughts, but just a little more light-hearted and silly.

When we finish the movie and go in for a refill before starting a new one, we look at each other shocked when we pour out the last drops of the second bottle. “Did we drink all of that?” Billie laughs, her cheeks rosy and her eyes big. “Ruh roh” she yells out before laughing and lifting her glass to take the last sip. “I think we just broke our pathetic previous record,” I giggle back at her. “Should we open another??” she asks me, her words making it clear she is leaving it up for me to decide. I can tell she’s never been this drunk, yet I know she’s nowhere near dangerous drunk, or even messy drunk. “Fuck it let's do it” I shout a little too loudly before I grab another bottle out of the fridge.

TIME JUMP (Smutty time)

Our empty wine glasses are sitting on the coffee table in front of us as we lay under the blankets and watch the movie the TV put on automatically after our first movie finished. We are about 20 minutes in and it's becoming incredibly clear this is not at all similar to the cheesy straight rom-com that came before it. I feel my breath catch in my throat and all the wine-filled blood run to my center when the TV fills with the images of two women making out, one being thrown on the bed while the other climbs on top of her. As the sex scene keeps going, I remember that this is Netflix, and they are putting straight-up soft porn in their movies now.

I feel the pool forming in my underwear as I watch this graphic, incredibly hot lesbian sex scene play out in front of me. My drunk face must not be hiding what I'm feeling well because as Billie turns to look at me, she lets out a loud laugh. “Baby you look like a deer in headlights,” she says, still quietly giggling, her drunkenness showing through in the sound of her laughter. I swallow loudly before looking at her and then back at the TV. The moans get louder as we watch one of the girls reach her peak, the other continuing to go down on her. I shift awkwardly on the couch, trying not to make it too obvious how much that affected me, how turned on it got me. The combination of the wine, the hot lesbian sex in front of us, and the sexually charged tension Billie and I shared earlier is making it impossible for me to look Billie in the eyes, too scared of what I might say or do. Billie is still staring at me as my eyes stay glued on the screen, the scene still playing out. I feel her torso lifting up from the couch and getting closer to me before smiling and whispering, “You wish that was you, huh? Sitting here wondering what it must be like to get fucked by a girl… or fuck a girl yourself” she stays close to me, swallowing and giggling before continuing. “It's fucking incredible, better than you could even imagine,” she says matter of factly. The tension is as thick as it could possibly get, almost like I could see it taking over my entire body, and just by looking at Billie it's clear she feels it too.

Before I can stop myself, I spring towards Billie. My momentum picking up as I get closer. Realizing what I’m doing, I pause, scared to move at all. Billie grabs my face, pulling me the rest of the way to her and our lips crash together. Months of building tension all explode at once as our tongues slide against each other, eagerly slipping between one another's lips, no longer hiding how badly we want each other. “Show me, Billie,” I say, pulling back enough to get my words out and swallow. “Show me what it feels like to be with a girl,” I finish. “you have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say those words” she confesses as she stands up, pulling my hand to follow her to my room. We both lightly stumble down the hallway, giggling from the wine and the anticipation of what is to come.

As we make our way into my room I turn on my favorite lamp- it has a dark pink light bulb that glows so nicely in my room at night. I throw myself onto the bed and land right next to Billie, both of us taking a second to laugh at my ridiculous jump before getting quiet again. She turns on her side to face me and I do the same. My hair falls in front of my face as I turn. Billie’s hand comes up, brushing it out of the way before kissing me again, pulling me in tight against her as our legs dance together. Her leg finds its way between mine and as our kiss gets heated again she pushes up against my core. I let out a slight whine as Billie’s hands hit my waist, pushing me harder against her thigh and pushing her tongue into my mouth.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so horny, been so wet, or wanted someone more in my life. Billie’s head finds its way to my neck as she begins placing light kisses against my skin. When she bites down and pushes her thigh against my clit harder, I let out a deep moan that I swear has been growing in me for months. “Mmmmhhhmm, Billie…” I huff as I begin grinding my hips shamelessly against her thigh, begging for any pleasure at this point. Billie's shorts have slid all the way up her leg, leaving her thigh bare and able to feel my soaked shorts gliding against her as I move my hips faster.

I feel her wet lips hit my ear, biting it gently as she breathes out. It is as if my body is on fire, every single nerve ending I have lighting up at once, every touch suddenly feeling sexual. I am melting at her every move and she hasn’t even touched me yet. If this is what it feels like to be with a girl, I want it forever. “Billie please” I whine out, desperation filling my voice as I grind my core harder against her. My wet shorts rub tightly against my clit with every move I make and I feel like I could cum from this alone. A slight embarrassment creeps up, slowing my hips as I realize how close I am to cumming, just from her thigh against my pussy. I grab the back of her head as she continues sucking and biting on my neck. Quiet moans continue spilling from my lips as my head begins to race. Is this a thing in lesbian sex? Am I crazy for doing this? Should I stop?

As my mind continues to take control and ruin my pleasure Billie interrupted the thoughts, almost as if she could hear them out loud. “Don’t stop grinding on my thigh until I feel your cum drench my skin, keep going for me Y/N I know it feels good” Her words are exactly what I needed, making my pussy clench tightly. I grab her chin and pull her into a deep kiss as her hands snake under my shirt and reach my bare chest. She squeezes my big boobs hard before pinching my nipple, giggling as I yelp into her mouth. She continues toying with my hard nipples as I pull away from her lips, too caught up in the pleasure to keep kissing. Each time she pinches and pulls at my bud I groan louder and move my hips faster. Billie catches on quickly, continuing her fun on my boobs, dragging me closer and closer to the edge, flooding every part of my body with overwhelming pleasure. I find my way to her neck, needing to feel closer to her, placing open-mouth kisses all over. I earn a quiet gasp from her when I hit a sweet spot, and latch on tighter.

As I kiss her harder, biting on her skin, continuing to pull moans from her, she suddenly pushes her thigh in a new angle right as I speed up my movements, throwing me over the edge. I grab her tight, pulling her as close to me as she can possibly be. My head is still nuzzled into her neck, my mouth hanging open as loud moans pour from my lips, lips that continuing lightly connect with her skin. My legs shake as she grabs both my hips and continues to move them for me, allowing me to ride out my orgasm for as long as possible. I hold my breath, shocked at the pleasure I am experiencing just from her thigh on my body. A light hum sings from her lips as I finally come down from such a powerful orgasm. I hold her tight as I catch my breath, needing to feel her close to me, trying to process the feelings I am beginning to understand, feelings I felt for her for a long time. Billie giggles as she rubs my back, helping ground me and letting me take my time with my descent back to earth. I finally pull my head from out of her neck and grab her face, needing to kiss her hard before anything is said, trying to gather my thoughts. I let my back fall onto the mattress as I laugh and breath out, still shocked at what was happening, shocked that Billie, my best friend, the girl I’ve secretly been attracted to for years, just pushed me to the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.

“there ya go baby,” Billie says as she climbs on top of me, grabbing my chin, pulling me in for an intensely hot kiss before placing her lips on my forehead. “now let me clean you up” she whispers in between kisses, kisses that started as pecks and are now becoming more and more sloppy. She lifts my shirt up and I grab it, pulling it over my head needing to be free. “Can I see you too Billie?” I ask, a slight innocence and vulnerability peaking out of my words as I hold my fingers at the base of her shirt, slightly sliding it up. She smiles and sits up, tugging the shirt over her head and reaching behind her, immediately taking off her sexy black lace bra. My heart skips a beat when I watch her perfect big boobs drop to their natural, beautiful position. I lay myself up on my elbows pulling her closer, needing them in my mouth. I kiss lightly before wrapping my lips all the way around her nipple, circling my tongue around her bud as one of my hands plays with her free boob. “Ooo baby fuck… y/n mmmm” she sings, her hands pushing my head towards her as I continue on exploring her breasts.

She pushes me away and lays her own lips on my chest, eagerly moving down my body. “I need to taste you, mama, take these slutty little shorts off for me” She pulls at the waistband as I lift my hips up, helping her slide them off of me before laying back down. Her words make my pussy clench, pushing out more of my juices. She grabs both my thighs gripping them hard as she spreads them, groaning loudly as she sees my wet core for the first time ever. I swallow hard, the vulnerability of my exposed pussy hitting me all at once, wanting to hide from her, covering my face with my arm. Billie clearly senses my emotions, knowing me all too well. She places a light kiss on my upper thigh, then another on the other side. “Oh y/n you’re so perfect… sexier than I could have ever imagined,” she kisses my upper thigh again before continuing, “and I’ve thought about it a lot” I whine at her words, the hunger pushing away the vulnerability, and right as I’m about to beg for her tongue, she latches on. Still so sensitive from my last orgasm, I’m unable to hold in any of my moans, immediately drunk from the pleasure yet again. I grab her hair hard and push her against me as my hips buck. “Fuck Billie your tongue feels so good” my moans interrupt my own words, throwing my head back as her tongue circles my swollen clit. “oh baby, fuck Billie please don’t stop, fuck” my words fuel her on as she gets even more intense. It feels like she’s devouring me, eating me alive like she's been starved forever. She comes up for air and we make eye contact. I swallow back my drool as I stare at her, unable to process just how sexy she looks. Her eyes look black from her massive lust-filled pupils and her chin is covered in my cum, dripping down as she licks her lips. “Your pussy tastes so fucking good, mmm I can’t get enough of you” and with that her tongue is back on me, flicking and slurping, swallowing and circling, tasting every inch of my core.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get better, two fingers pump into me, filling me perfectly. I gasp and shake underneath her, beginning to feel overstimulated by the pleasure she gives me. I feel as if im floating, like this is all just a fever dream, it cant be possible for sex to feel this good. “God, fuck, baby. Fuck Billie yesssss” I struggle to get my words out as my hands dart around the bed, trying to find anything to grab hold of, something to anchor me to this bed as I feel my stomach contracting. “I feel you pulsing on my fingers mama, let go for me, cum on my fingers like the good girl I know you are” Her voice is raspy and low, sexier than I’ve ever heard it before. Her nasty words flood my mind and I scream as I feel her lips wrapped around my clit again, sucking and licking as she curves her fingers upward and hits my g-spot. She keeps devouring me and moaning into my pussy as she speeds her fingers up and I feel like I’m about to black out. Thank god I live alone because I don’t think I’ve ever been louder in my life. “Billie Im about to cum, fuck it feels so good please don’t stop” She smiles into my cunt as she flicks her fingers inside of me, doing a come here motion as she pumps them in and out, stimulating me in a way I have never been stimulated before. It feels like she knows my body better than I even do, like shes been fucking me like this for years. She keeps up the motions of her fingers as she flattens out her tongue and pushes it hard against my clit, moving her head side to side. “Oh my goddddd” I scream out as I begin shaking underneath her, being hit with my second orgasm, one that is somehow twice as strong as the first. “Fuck Billie yes fuck” I can’t get all my words out before needing to scream and moan again. “Im cumming baby fuck, f-fuckkkkkkk”

the last of my sentence turns into a deep moan as she keeps going. Keeps plowing her fingers into me, keeps moving her tongue side to side on my clit, keeps lighting me up with intense pleasure. I feel a new sensation as she continues to overstimulate me. It’s something I’ve never felt before and it's stronger than any orgasm I’ve ever had. “Wait billie, fuck, please oh god” She lifts her head up from my clit but speeds up her fingers. My eyes are squeezed shut and my lungs are frozen, unable to breath. I feel like my body is full of stars, like im no longer all the way here. My knuckles ache from how tightly im grabbing the sheets but somehow the pain fuels my orgasm more as it continues to take control of my body. “Billie stop I think i’m about to—” I can’t get my words out fast enough before the gates open and I pour out all over her chest and fingers, squirting hard. I try to move my hips but she grabs me, holding me where I am as I continue spilling out onto her. Screams meet with the wet sounds of my pleasure and I can’t take it any longer. “Okay okay billie fuck im done, im done” I say as my back returns down on the bed and I feel air fill my lungs again. My legs continue to shake and my pussy clenches around her fingers in a rhythm, like it has a heartbeat of its own.

She lays her head down on my thigh as she slowly pulls her fingers out of me. The movement causes me to groan and shake again, a clear indication of just how overstimulated I am. She looks at me, making sure I’m watching as she licks her fingers clean, moaning at the taste of them. As I sit up on my elbows and watch her lick her lips I look down to see her boobs covered in all my juices, wet and dripping, as sexy as they could possibly be. She catches me looking and smirks. “If I wasn’t so fucked out I would be licking my juices off those sexy boobs” I say with a new found confidence. She crawls up me and kisses me softly, letting my tongue slip between her lips and around hers. “You taste good don’t you baby” she moans, before pulling me tight against her naked wet chest. Our boobs rub together and our connection feels electric. “You know I’ve never squirted before, you’re the first” I say, glowing from all the pleasure I just experienced. “I didn’t even know sex

could feel that good” i laugh admitting it then feeling embarrassed. “Welcome to sex with women” she giggles as the words come out, “I feel lucky to be the first of many for you baby, I’ve been wanting you for so damn long, I gotta admit it” she kisses me on my cheek and grabs my nipple playfully making me yelp. “I been dreaming about this for a long time too, Billie” I confess with a smile, looking back at her. “Good things there’s a whole lot more firsts for me to have” I say playfully as I grab her boob again.

I pull her closer to me, both of us back on our sides facing eachother. I crave a type of intimacy with her that I have avoided with every one of my partners for years. Maybe I really am gay and it’s just because shes a woman. Or, maybe, if I let myself really think about it, its because its Billie. My hand falls over her body onto her bare back and my fingers begin lightly dancing over her skin. She snuggles into me tighter and humms. Being in Billie’s arms feels like home. My cheeks flush as I realize that the love I feel for her is not the love you feel for a friend, it is so so much more than that. Its the type of love that terrifies me, or at least it has in the past. For some reason I don't feel scared at all right now, I feel quite the opposite actually.

I continue rubbing her back as our breathing slows, both melting into one another. She breaks the silence with a silky voice, “I think I could stay like this forever” my heart skips a beat at her confession, bringing a calm warmth throughout my body. “I’d like that a lot Billie” she lifts her head from the crook of my neck just long enough to place a kiss on my forehead, before snuggling back into me tighter. We lay like this for a minute before I interrupt. I giggle quietly to myself and she looks up with a curious expression, her eyebrows knit together but a smirk on her lips, “what the hell are you so giggly about?” she says, laughing with me now. “Does this mean,” I giggle again slightly more bashfully this time, before I continue. “Does this mean I get to learn all about lessssbbiiann sexxxxx with you?” I can’t help but say it in a goofy, slightly mocking tone, emphasising my purposefully ridiculous word choice. “Sure does baby girl, sure doesssssssss” She laughs out, matching the playful energy. “Ooo la la” I sing, pulling a laugh from both of us as we lay back down. I can’t help but feel overwhelming excitement for whats to come.

Should I continue on with the story??

[echoxshxrx]

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[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader | SMUT | CW: reader is married to an abusive husband | reader uses drugs/alcohol to cope with her abusive marriage | murder/killing mentioned

This story is extremely explicit and deliciously fever dream-ish imo. Hope you enjoy it, my fellow clown fuckers ❤️

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?

That’s what you were thinking as your common sense peeked out briefly from the fog of alcohol and weed in your system…a moment of sobriety just long enough to make you question what motivation you could have for the decisions you were now making.

He smelled. Like dried blood and sex, the kind of sex that hurts you, but doesn’t stop you from wanting more. Maybe it would have been enough to stop you, under any other (sober) circumstances. But as it was, you were already sitting in this strange man’s lap, in the middle of an empty mall after closing. And what made the situation even more surreal? The fact that he was dressed in a goddamn Santa suit and wearing gaudy black and white clown makeup all over his face.

Yeah, you really needed to stop sneaking into the mall bathroom and getting fucked up. Swiping a pack of edibles and two travel-sized bottles of cinnamon spice vodka from the gas station had been a bad idea to begin with. Using the privacy of the bathroom to get wasted and scroll through your phone for two hours would have been considered strange behavior by most people. But most people (in fact, no one) knew the reason why you avoided home like the plague.

Your husband was abusive, in every way possible. He controlled every aspect of your life, to the point that sometimes, you worried he could even read your thoughts. Where you went, who you spoke to, your finances, your diet, your sex life; everything about you belonged to him. It was suffocating. And while your habit of stealing from the gas station and hiding in the mall bathroom was an unhealthy coping mechanism, you were coping. Even if eventually it bit you in the ass, like tonight. When you got a little too high, a little too drunk, to notice the time, or the fact that the mall outside the bathroom stall you were locked in had grown quiet…

The mall was closed. Fucking closed, with you locked inside it. You’d staggered out of the bathroom like a fucking zombie in what looked to be a post apocalyptic scene. The mall was empty, devoid of life. Everything was eerily silent, apart from your footsteps shuffling across the tile floor as you took in your empty surroundings. The mall was dimly-lit, the only light source coming from high above, moonlight streaming in through the big panel windows on the mall ceiling.

You found one of the exits, and tried the door. It was locked, or maybe you were too high/drunk to figure a way out? It didn’t matter because regardless, you weren’t going anywhere for awhile. Either you’d sober up and figure out how to get out, or you’d be stuck waiting till security came by in the morning and let you out. A pleasant thought tickled at the back of your mind: your husband had no idea where you were. It felt good to be so far beyond his radar that his ability to oversee your every move was completely fucked. What did scare you, however, was the thought of confronting him in the morning. How would he react to you staying out all night? Obviously it wouldn’t go over well, and just imagining what your husband’s punishment might involve had your stomach twisting.

So instead of ruining your high by worrying about the inevitable, you decided to finish the last of your vodka, yelling “fuck it!” into the empty void around you. Your voice echoed back at you off the walls of the empty mall. It was creepy, and a little exciting, being unsupervised and alone with this kind of freedom. The excitement you felt only heightened when you noticed him. Your mouth twisted into a grin of disbelief, because how fucking high WERE you that you were literally seeing Santa Claus in front of you right now?? You took a step towards him, still unsure if he was even real.

He was sitting in an ornate wooden chair framed by two massive Christmas trees. The strands of lights decorating them weren’t on, just like all the other lights inside the mall. Above him, a sign written in ridiculously large print read “SANTA,” as if the scene itself would have implied anything other than the jolly old elf’s presence. You forced your gaze to focus on the man/hallucination in front of you, the smile on his face as big as yours. And he was a…clown, too? You laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all becoming too much. Your laughter was tinny and soft, like the sound of jingle bells, and it seemed only fitting considering you were standing mere feet away from the man, the myth, the legend himself: Santa Claus.

He patted his lap, encouraging you over. The fact that he apparently didn’t speak made the vodka-soaked dreamworld you were currently wandering feel even more like a dream. As you approached ‘Santa Clown,’ the possibility of him being a figment of your imagination became less believable. When he reached for your arm and tugged you onto his lap, you were certain. He was absolutely real.

You gasped, a surprised giggle spilling from your lips. The clown seemed to enjoy your amusement, bouncing you on his knee just to hear the string of excited giggles that tumbled out of you. He was playing with you, and you were loving it. His hair, or the wig he wore, spilled over his shoulders in off-white waves, flecked by bits of red. It took you a few seconds to register that the red bits were actually dried blood, and that the same blood was caked onto the beard that hung loosely underneath Santa Clown’s chin.

Should you have been alarmed? Probably. But instead of sensing danger coming from the clown, you felt oddly protected, safe. Whoever that blood belonged to, whoever he may have hurt, the clown didn’t seem in any hurry to hurt YOU. In fact, based on the stiffening pulse of his cock under your ass, it seemed like the clown was enjoying your company very much.

To test your theory, you decided to tease him a little and see where it led. Shifting intentionally on his lap, you reached to smooth the blood-crusted strands of hair back from Santa Clown’s face, revealing his sharp cheekbones and smooth, painted-white skin. He was oddly handsome, attractive in a dark kind of way. The way villains are always more appealing than heroes, or more philosophically, how Eve must have felt when she was seduced by the serpent’s persuasive tongue. There was something forbidden about the clown, something instinctively, inherently wrong about wanting him. And yet, that wrongness was precisely part of the reason you did want him.

His smile faded slowly to an expression you couldn’t name, his eyes going dark. Had your flirting upset him? A chill ran through you as even the air around you both seemed to go colder. A sudden sizzle of electricity made you flinch, and you watched as around you, the lights on the Christmas trees were illuminated. You smiled, a pleased chuckle of surprise leaving your lips, and the clown smiled with you. He seemed to enjoy making you feel good; and perhaps the dark supernatural forces that followed him came in handy in times like these, when manipulating electricity could be used to impress a pretty girl?

The rest of the mall remained in darkness, with only the Christmas lights illuminating the festive scene. “It’s so pretty,” you said, and you realized it was the first time you’d actually spoken to the clown. He nodded, feigning a kind of bashful grin, and extended his index finger toward you, tapping lightly against your breasts. Your eyebrows lifted at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had called you ‘pretty,’ and somehow, even in the absence of words, the clown had said everything right.

“Me?” you asked coquettishly, feeling emboldened by the vodka thundering through your system. “You think I’m pretty?”

The clown nodded vigorously, his big, toothy smile returning. “Well y’know what?” you asked through a giggle. “I think you’re pretty handsome, Santa.”

The clown’s mouth made the shape of a surprised ‘O,’ and he pointed to himself, his lips forming the word ‘me???’

“Yeah,” you replied. “And, as a matter of fact-.” You leaned in so your lips were at the clown’s ear, the coppery scent of blood stronger by his face. “-I’m ready to tell you what I want for Christmas…”

You didn’t expect to feel his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him. His expression had shifted back to the one you’d been unable to read earlier, the look you’d mistaken for him being upset. Now, as his thumb tugged your bottom lip downward and his dark eyes studied the shape of your mouth, you realized his expression was one of lust.

You sucked in a breath, extending your tongue to meet his thumb. The metallic tang of old blood met your tastebuds, melting over your tongue as the dried blood under the clown’s thumbnail was wetted by your spit. You didn’t care whose blood it was, because in this strange new reality, nothing beyond this space in the empty mall mattered. His eyes followed his thumb as it pressed deeper, your lips closing around its base, sucking lightly. You shifted again on the clown’s lap; it was so bumpy now that he was fully hard, his erection making it difficult to sit still.

His gaze was fixed on your lips, the space his thumb had disappeared between. You backed your head away slowly, letting his thumb slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your hands closed over his thighs to balance yourself as you slipped off his lap, locking your eyes with his as you settled between his boots on the ground. Resting your head against his right thigh, the heady smell of piss and sweat filled your senses. His hand was on your head, fingers laced through your hair and guiding you, inward. Closer. Closer to the space he wanted your mouth, where he needed it to be.

You wet your lips with your tongue and watched as the clown worked the large buckle of his belt undone. He tugged the waist of his pants lower, just enough for his cock to spring free, smacking against his stomach, pre cum clinging to the white fur trim of his jacket. Your mouth fell open at the sight of his member, its impressive length only half as striking as its girth. He closed his gloved hand around himself, pumping up and down his shaft in a few slow, unhurried strokes. The look in his eyes was almost wicked; he knew the thought of him filling your throat intimidated you, and he liked that fear.

With his other hand locked in your hair, the clown pulled your head closer, till your mouth was poised at his tip. He pressed the fat bulb to your lips, admiring the way they parted obediently for him. Urging his hips forward, the clown pushed his cock inside your mouth. The salty taste of his skin on your tongue was unpleasant at first, but you quickly forgot about any discomfort once he’d established a rhythm back and forth inside you. The head of his cock pushed the salty taste to the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down. From there, the only challenge you faced was opening your throat enough to take him. The clown’s hand on your head continued to guide it, pumping your mouth over him like a sleeve. You needed to breathe, to swallow the air his cock was denying you. Just when you thought you might be sick, the clown removed himself from your throat, allowing you the chance to breathe, a long line of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to the head of his cock. He grinned down at you approvingly, patting your head as if to say ‘good girl,’ before lifting you once again by the hair, and shoving himself back between your lips.

He leaned forward and closed his other hand around your throat, feeling his cock fucking you from the inside out. Your cunt was dripping, a pearly string of your wetness slicking the ground between your knees. You squeezed your thighs together as the clown used your throat, desperate for some kind of stimulation. He could sense your desperation, and offered you his boot as a relief, wedging it between your legs to give you something to grind on. You humped it gratefully, rocking your swollen cunt against the clown’s shoe. He stilled inside your throat, buried deep, his fingers tightening in your hair to the point your scalp was stinging. A gush of semen washed down your throat, followed by another. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat constricting as the clown’s cum filled it to capacity. You gagged and choked, and he pulled you off his cock just as vomit began creeping its way up the back of your throat. His wild eyes and wide grin beamed down at you, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his climax. Semen you hadn’t been able to swallow dripped down your chin in a thick line. When you attempted to wipe it away, the clown stopped you with a swat of his hand against yours. He wanted to see the results of his work in and on you, his work of Art.

He jerked his boot where it was wedged between your thighs, bouncing you on top of it. You whimpered at the sensation, your neglected little cunt aching and engorged. You needed to come, so badly that it hurt. The clown watched as you stayed knelt at his feet, straddling his boot and humping it like a bitch in heat, grunting and panting, no more than an animal. Your orgasm shook you to your core, your muscles gripping and sucking around nothing, clit throbbing against the clown’s boot as you rubbed yourself into it, moaning and spitting a string of obscenities into his pants leg, where your face was buried.

After your body ceased shaking, you looked up to see the clown still grinning down at you. He offered his hands for you to take hold of, and helped you back into his lap. An hour passed, and then another. You couldn’t say for certain, but you think you must have fallen asleep in the clown’s arms for an hour or so, because at some point, you noticed that the stars were beginning to fade in the sky. Morning was coming, and that meant going home. To your husband. To your abuser.

Fear roiled in your stomach, along with the alcohol and cum filling it. You despised this feeling of dread, of being scared by a shit stain of a human being like your husband. If only you could live free of his tyranny, you imagined. How much better would the world be without the influence of such a toxic man as your husband…?

…And then, the idea formed in your mind. You tilted your head to the clown’s face. Studying the blood on his hair and skin once again, you decided to ask a favor of him. “Santa,” you began, because you didn’t know what else to call him. “You’ve killed people before…haven’t you?”

The clown feigned an apologetic expression and raised his hands as if to say “guilty.”

You nodded your head, a hopeful smile on your lips. And then, you asked him: “How would you like to kill my husband?” 🔪🩸🤍

@arts-bloody-gloves

[ckret2]

Chapter 63 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes. 

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks." 

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs—because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk. 

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

[darkroomkisses]

Uh, can I request a dark!ethan with quinn's scene in the bathroom but instead of her being the reader, where gf!ethan is waiting for her to fuck her w non-con. Thank you!

hope it is understood, English is not my first language

Rejected (Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader)

A/N: Oh spicy! Yes, pretty sure I understand you! I hope this is to your liking, I changed some stuff from the scene in the movie. Danny doesn't see ghostface in the room. Went a little darker toward the end (oops) Thanks Anon <3

Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Reader

Summary: After rejecting Dark!Ethan when he asks you on a date, he's angry enough to kill. So he does just that, he kills your hookup and fucks you after. READ TAGS!

Warnings: NON-CON,SMUT, Dark!Ethan Landry, Ghostface Ethan Landry, fem!reader, Murder, Choking, Unconscious reader, Dacryphilia, Possessive!Ethan, Jealous!Ethan, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, marking, biting, Face Slapping, slight slut-shaming. Don't read if uncomfortable with dark themes, other than that ENJOY!! 🥀

Banner by @straywords 🥀

Ethan has been obsessed with you from the moment he met you. Whenever he would come over to the apartment you shared with Sam and Tara, he would watch you so intensely, some of the times you noticed but it didn’t bother you too much, but it made you a little uneasy.

His eyes were so dark and fierce you felt like your skin might set ablaze. His eyes never leave you when you all hang out. All that ran through his mind was wrapping his hands around your neck watching you shiver under him as he forced himself in you. He wanted to look into your fearful eyes and see sweet tears running down your pretty face. 

About a month ago, Ethan mustered up the courage to ask you on a date, you giggled at his shy attempt to ask you out and rubbed his face, telling him you only see him as a friend. Those words haven’t left his mind since only playing on repeat as he laid in bed every night.  

It was late in the evening, The house lively with the gang spending time together in the kitchen, completely distracted from what was going down in the other room.

That was perfect for Ethan, he was preparing for his attack, hiding away in your closet. He was ready to kill the loser who just fucked you in two pumps leaving you disappointed and needy for more. Ethan was seething with rage because what the fuck did this fucker have that he didn’t? The fucker didn’t even make you cum. His cock half hard thinking about what he wanted to do to you. The fucker went into the bathroom leaving you alone in the bedroom. You slipped your nightgown back on and pulled out your phone, turning to the side. Ethan couldn’t wait anymore.

“Babe, you coming to join me?” The guy yelled from the bathroom; you met him earlier that night at a frat party, he was cute, and you were drunk. You put your phone down for a second to respond “No and don’t use my face wash it’s pH-balance for women” you yell, “yeah whatever you say” he yells back. You go back to your phone, giggling at the video you were watching. Unaware of the dark figure looming over you, after a few seconds of Ethan running his eyes over your figure, his fingers twitching desperately wanting to touch you. He slipped out of your room to kill that loser in the bathroom.

Ethan finished the job, he sighed out, fuck it felt good to kill that alpha fucker who was a two-pump chump. But what he had planned next would feel even better. Ethan slipped back into your bedroom quietly to not disturb you. You hadn't moved from your position. Ethan leaned over you in a quick motion, hand over your mouth, all his bodyweight pinning you to the bed the blade was at your neck, the slightest pressure pushing into you.

Your eyes widen, you gear up to scream as you meet the big dark eyes of Ghostface. You started to cry, Ghostface just stared down at you, his hand tight on your face. You screamed against his hand, your body shaking with fear, you were going to be killed. Ghostface shook his blade in your face, shutting you up instantly.

Ethan smiled under the mask; happy his plan was playing out perfectly. His cock was hard and leaking already. You looked even more perfect than he pictured late at night when had his hand wrapped around his hard cock, getting off to the thought of you. Your eyes were puffy and red, your tears couldn’t stop falling. Ethan took his blade and ran it down your short nightgown, tearing it in half and exposing your bare body to him, your breathing started to speed up at the realization of what was about to happen.

You heard a quiet moan from Ghostface, your blood running cold. “Scream and I'll kill all your fucking friends in the kitchen” Ethan said in the Ghostface voice making you shiver. You couldn’t let your friends die because of you. You shook your head quickly. Ethan took his hand from your mouth to squeeze one of your boobs he leaned his head down to your neck, rutting against your core, it took everything in you to not throw up at the feel of his hands exploring your body and the heavy breathing in your ear made your stomach turn.

Once Ethan got his feel, his free hand moved down to your wet pussy, his gloved hand stroking all over. Ethan was surprised how wet you were, and it was all for him. Ethan hovered over you to get a better look at your wet core. Ethan let go of the knife to remove his gloves. He had to feel you properly against his skin. He returned his hand rubbing your clit, you let out a soft hum, Ethan snapped his head up to see your face. It was exquisite, your face twisted like you were trying to hold back your pleasure.

That twisted his desire to get you to make more pretty noises for him. He wanted to hear you cry out, with that he pushed his fingers deep into you, hard and fast. You let out a broken moan, whimpering for him to stop. “p..please stop, please” you pant, with your lips quivering. Ethan let out a half laugh. “Why would I stop when you feel so good?” he said rutting faster and making circles on your clit with his thumb, determined to make you cum...hard. “Fuck you feel so good y/n” Ethan moaned your name lewdly. Your eyes widen, your thoughts running a mile a minute now, trying to think who the fuck this was. You didn't have much time to think, your fear and arousal ramping up to another level, your orgasm threating to crash down on you.

Your legs start to shake, your back arches against him your chest raising, and he takes his other hand and grabs your boob squeezing so tight, he pinches your nipple, rolling it with his fingers. He wanted to bring your tit into his mouth and suck hard on your hard nipple.

You clenched down hard on his fingers, he’s breathing deep into your ear, encouraging you on. “Good girl, cum on my fucking fingers” Ethan growled into your ear. You came down from your high, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Between the crying and the orgasm that had you shaking uncontrollably you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Your head whipped to the side, your cheek stinging. “Wake up, we are not done yet” Ethan growls. His cock was painfully hard now, he needed to be inside you. Your eyes fluttered, Ethan grabbed your neck tightly he whimpered softly, fuck he wanted to do that all night. Ethan releases his hard cock with his free hand.

Your panic hits you like lighting you tried to squirm out of his grip but that only made Ethan more excited. He lines his cock up with your slit, Ethan rubs his cock up and down on your wetness. In one quick thrust, Ethan forces himself in you, he lets out a low moan, steadying himself, he felt like he was going to burst inside you. Ethan almost couldn’t contain himself and thrust hard a few times, this is the first time Ethan felt pussy this good, the only time, actually.

His hands choked you hard with each rock of his hips. “Fuck, you know how long I wanted to stick my cock deep Inside you?” Your head feels light, and you are barely able to register what he’s saying to you.

You reach up to tear his hands away, but you couldn’t find the strength. “Your pussy is fucking mine, only for me” Ethan pants as he drags his cock against your hot walls. “You’re so tight, I feel like I'm tearing you apart.” You could hear the smile in his voice, each word dripping with lust.

“I c-can’t-” you choke out before you feel yourself fading into unconsciousness. Ethan didn’t let go of your neck for a few seconds, watching you fall limp under him. Ethan pulled his mask off throwing it to the ground. Sweat beating down his face, his hair a wild mess. He stops his movement for a second hiking your knees to your chest so he can fuck deeper into your slick hole.

The only sounds that filled the room were Ethan’s desperate moans and groans and the wet sounds of him fucking sloppily into you. He kissed your lips roughly, moaning into your mouth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, all for me” Ethan chanted darkly. He moved his lips to your neck sucking and kissing the marks he left on you. He was so close; he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Ethan roughly grabbed your hips, making your back arch. He was gripping so tightly he definitely left marks. “Fuck baby, take my cum you little slut” Ethan pumped in you harshly one last time letting out a deep moan as he spilled inside you. Ethan slowly pulled out of you, watching your slit dip his cum.

Ethan kissed your lips softly, roaming his hands all over your soft limp body one more time. Finally, he sits up, tucking you under the covers. Ethan kisses your forehead and puts his mask back on before fleeing the room. You were out cold, breathing softly and completely unaware that your shy friend Ethan had attacked you and you never will know. 

[babyleostuff]

crash | JEON WONWOO

summary | you get a call from the hospital after Wonwoo leaves the house after a fight, informing you that he's been in a car accident

genre | angst (+fluff in the end)

word count | 2.1k

pairing | jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: stay alive by jungkook

All you heard were the front doors slamming. 

This fucking fight was so unnecessary and useless, but neither you nor Wonwoo could contain your emotions that had been building up these past few weeks. You were both exhausted and mentally drained from your work, but instead of talking it out like adults, you yelled at each other, crossing every line you could have possibly crossed. 

But it didn’t matter now. He had already stormed out of the house and there was nothing that you could do to fix the situation. You just had to wait for him to calm down, catch a breath and come back, ready to talk like adults. 

Occupying yourself with some chores around the house, you tried pushing the fight away further from your mind - you knew that there was no point dwelling on it anymore. Grabbing the laundry basket, you waddled into your bathroom with a heavy sigh. 

You knew what you did wrong and you were ready to apologise for it. Now, you only needed Wonwoo to come back safely home.

With some hours passing, you did the laundry, washed the dishes and even tidied your and Wonwoo’s bedroom, especially his desk with his whole gaming set, which had been cluttered for some weeks now. Both of you were too tired to do it before. 

Sitting at the edge of your shared bed, you pulled out your phone and stared at it for a second. Should you text him? Would you come out desperate if you contacted him first? 

Some hours had passed and by then and you were starting to grow worried. He had never been out for that long after a fight. Sure, he usually needed some time for himself, but he always gave you a heads up if he knew he’d stay somewhere overnight. 

Besides, those situations were very rare - you and Wonwoo were committed to making up as quickly as possible. 

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, as you stood by the window, your heart heavy with worry. Your boyfriend should be home by now, safe and sound, but there was still no sign of him. You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the rising panic that threatened to consume you.

Maybe the fight went worse than you thought? What if you were too harsh? What if your relationship is over? You knew it was stupid to assume anything, so you did the only thing you could imagine doing and not coming off as a pain in the ass to Wonwoo.

You dialled his best friend's number. 

“Hey, Mingyu. Is Wonwoo possibly with you?” you asked, anxiously nibbling at your lower lip. 

“No, he’s not,” he said. “Wasn’t he supposed to be with you, though? He even left practice a bit early today,” you could sense a hint of confusion in his voice. 

“We had a fight,” you sighed. There was no point in hiding anything from him. “And he left, but that was like a couple of hours ago and I have not heard from him since then. I just thought that he maybe went over to you or something,” you rambled. 

“Have you tried reaching out to him?” 

“No. I didn’t want to come out as desperate in case he was still angry.”

“I really think you should call him. It’s unusual, even for him, to go MIA for so long,” he said. 

“Okay, I’ll try. Thank you, Mingyu.” 

“No problem,” he replied. “And let me know if you get a hold of him.” 

“Sure. Bye.” 

You pulled up your text messages and typed in a short message: are you okay?

The familiar sounds of the city outside seemed to mock your unease. The distant honking of cars, the laughter of children, and the rhythmic footsteps of passersby all continued as if nothing was wrong. But for you, the world has come to a standstill. 

You kept checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a missed call or a text message from Wonwoo, but the screen remained stubbornly blank.

Once again, you tried reassuring yourself, remembering that he was a responsible and cautious person. But the longer he was away, the harder it was to believe that everything was alright. Your imagination painted vivid scenes of accidents, injuries, or worse.

As if on cue, your screen lit up with a call. Never in your life had you picked up your phone that quickly. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t your boyfriend's familiar contact photo that showed up on your screen - it was an unknown number. 

Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated for a moment before reaching for the phone, fearing the worst.

“Hello?” you answered the call with a shaky voice. 

“Hello. We’d like to inform you that this number has been saved as an emergency contact. Are you in any way related to Mr. Jeon Wonwoo?” an unfamiliar voice asked. 

“I-I’m his girlfriend,” you stuttered, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. Your thoughts were a turbulent storm, and you felt a knot forming in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears. 

All of your nightmares were about to come true. 

"I'm calling from the Asan Medical Center. I'm a nurse here. I wanted to inform you that Mr. Jeon Wonwoo, was brought in earlier today due to a car crash," the nurse explained gently.

Your world seemed to shatter at that moment. 

With no energy left, as if sucked out of you, you collapsed to the ground, your knees hitting the floor. You struggled to process the words as your mind raced with fear and terror. You closed your eyes, trying to take deep breaths, to steady yourself, but it was no use. A single tear escaped the corner of your, tracing a path down your cheek like a silent plea for release.

"Is he…?” you were afraid of even thinking about that possibility. 

“He has been injured, but he’s stable. Our medical team is doing everything they can to assess his condition. We're still conducting tests and evaluations," the voice explained with empathy.

Another tear followed, then another, until they formed a steady stream down your face. Your shoulders trembled as the weight of your emotions finally overcame you. You buried your face in your hands, seeking shelter from the world, praying that this was just a bad dream.

"I'm coming right away. Is there any way you could let him know that I'm on my way?" you asked, your voice quivering.

“Yes, we’ll let him know. Take your time, and please drive safely,” the hospital staff replied. 

You quickly texted Mingyu, letting him know that Wonwoo had been in an accident and that you were heading over to see him. Grabbing your car keys, you rushed out the door, not caring about the fading light or the traffic ahead.

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, as your thoughts were filled with worry and prayers for Wonwoo’s safety. The nurse reassured you that he’d be fine, but you just couldn’t help but expect the worst. 

The possibility of losing him felt unbearable.

Finally, you arrived at the hospital and rushed to the emergency room. A nurse guided you to the waiting area, leaving you to wait for the doctor that was taking care of your boyfriend.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as you waited for any updates. Minutes felt like hours, as your heart pounded in your chest. At some point, Mingyu appeared taking a seat beside you. You didn’t speak much, he only asked you whether you knew anything new about Wonwoo’s condition. 

Finally, the doctor exited the room where your boyfriend was currently in. As if on cue, you and Mingyu rose from your seats, approaching the man. 

“He has no brain, nor back or spinal injuries which is the best information we could have hoped for. He has suffered a broken arm and some cuts and bruises, but luckily there are no life- threatening injuries.”

Your shoulders sagged with relief, and you let out a tearful sigh.

“He’ll need to stay here for a couple of days, just in case. We’ll run some extra tests, but there is no need to worry,” he said with a soft smile on his face. 

“Can I see him?” you asked. 

“Of course. He’s in that room,” he said and pointed to the door through which he had left a few moments ago “Just take it easy on him, he’s still a bit shaken up.”

You could hear Mingy’s question about Wonwoo’s rehabilitation, as you entered the room. Right now, it was the least of your worries, you only needed to see your boyfriend and make sure that he was really alive.

In the brightly lit hospital room, the scent of antiseptic hung in the air as the steady hum of medical equipment provided a backdrop to the scene.

Wonwoo laid on the hospital bed, his body wrapped in bandages. His face showed signs of pain and discomfort and he winced as he shifted slightly, feeling the soreness in his limbs from the impact of the car crash.

“Honey?” you asked in a quiet voice, standing by the door. 

Your eyes filled with tears, as his gaze met yours.

"I was so scared," you whispered loud enough for him to hear, tears now flowing down your cheeks. "I didn't know what I would do if... if I lost you." 

He looked just as relieved as you felt. Tubes and monitors surrounded him, but he looked peaceful despite the ordeal he had been through. His eyes were red and you knew he had been crying, but still, they were filled with so much love and life.

You rushed to his side, taking his hand in yours, feeling his warmth and the gentle squeeze in response. A weak smile appeared on his face as he saw you beside him. 

"Hey," he murmured, his voice soft and raspy.

Tears continued to fall from your eyes as you leaned over to kiss him gently. “I was so worried,” you managed to say, your voice choking with emotions. 

“Don’t you ever walk out on me again, Jeon Wonwoo. No matter how angry you are with me, don’t you ever leave me,” you cried, the tears freely falling down your cheeks. 

Wonwoo’s smile grew, as he reached up to wipe away your tears with his thumb. “I’m here,” he said softly. “I’m alive, and I’m going to be okay,” he reassured you. 

“If you ever pull a stunt like this ever again, I swear I’m going to fucking fight you and cut the WiFi, so you can kiss your games goodbye,” you said with a serious tone, not kidding a bit. 

You gently run your hand through his hair, pushing the bangs aside to look him properly in the eye. As you held each other's gaze for a moment, you both realised how close you were to losing each other. 

“I’m so sorry, honey,” he said, squeezing your hand. “For everything. Not only for the fight today, but also for being so absent recently. I should’ve paid more attention to you, try to spend more time with you.” 

“No it’s okay. It was my fault as well,” you stated. “I was just missing you so much that I forgot how demanding your job is and that you don’t always have time for me. And I’m totally okay with that, it was so stupid for me to demand more time from you,” you said, patting his head gently. 

As the medical staff entered the room to check on Wonwoo, you stepped back to give them space. The nurse was doing something with the IV, and the doctor was asking follow-up questions, making sure he didn't suffer from a concussion.

“We added some painkillers to the IV, so he’ll probably be asleep in a minute,” the nurse informed you. 

“Will you stay with me, honey?” Wonwoo asked you, a bit of worry in his voice. He stretched his arm as best as he could towards you, wincing a bit in the process.  

Your heart melted, as you quickly grabbed his hand in yours. 

“I’ll always be with you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you said, kissing the tip of his nose. As the minutes passed, the pain medication began to take effect, and your boyfriend’s eyelids grew heavy. He closed his eyes, trying to rest and heal. 

Outside the hospital window, the world continued its bustling pace, as if nothing happened.

[pitchsidestories]

mirrors II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 938

a/n: hi, the inspiration came from the request here. We'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. <3

It was October. And everyone, football players and fans alike, knew what that meant.

The best of the best were about to be honoured at the Ballon d’Or Award ceremony.

Even as a sports journalist, this was a very special night and you felt honoured to be invited amongst all those big names in the audience.

There was just one face that you could have done without seeing. And of course you were seated right next to each other.

You let your gaze wander across the room, trying not be intimidated by the amount of men in suits surrounding you. Majorly to ignore her.

Someone on stage was about to hold an acceptance speech and you hoped that it would shut her up but no, of course not.

“Come on, you know we’d look cute together.“

You didn’t even have to look at her, the smirk basically vibrated in her voice. You sighed. Apparently she couldn’t behave anywhere. Every time you met, she tried to flirt with you.

Slowly you turned towards her and whispered: “Jennifer. We’re at an award ceremony.“

“Yes, and you look gorgeous in that suit. It goes well with my dress.“, she replied quietly and casually slipped her hand onto your thigh.

For a second you cursed yourself for choosing your dark green suit. The colour was too similar to Jennis floor-length gown and made it look like you intentionally matched.

You slapped her hand away and glared at the football player: “Shh, I’m trying to listen here.“

Turning back towards the stage, you tried to follow what the laureate had to say while jotting down notes for yore next article into a small notebook on your lap.

You shivered as you felt Jennis warm breath against your ear.

“As if they had anything important to say anyway.“, she complained, rolling her eyes.

You gave up on listening and instead considered Jenni. “Men love to talk. But so do you.“

She shrugged: “At least I have something useful to say.“

“You’re flirting.“, you stated, unimpressed by her attempts at maintaining a conversation.

“And?“

“And I really need to write that article.“, you replied, your voice rising with slight anger.

When she leaned over to snatch the notebook from your lap, you had to stop yourself from yelling at her. Instead you hissed at her: “Excuse me?!“

Jenni waved the book around nonchalantly and pouted: “Now you’re just making excuses to ignore me.“

“I’m not.”, you disagreed heavily while simultaneously trying to get your working utensils back.

Maybe it was time for you to abandon your scribbling on paper in exchange for only writing things down on your smartphone or laptop you thought to yourself as the forward wasn’t showing any sign to hand the notebook back to you.

“What do you want?”, you sighed tired of her childish behaviour.

“For you to finally acknowledge that we look hot together.”, she revealed with a devilish grin on her lips.

“You don’t give up easily, huh?”, you replied, your voice couldn’t hide the growing frustration you felt towards her.

“I never give up actually.”, Jenni admitted in a serious tone.

Abruptly you stood up from the chair. The intensity of her green eyes looking at you was getting too much to handle.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”, you announced.

Much to your own surprise the Spaniard decided to follow you. “Coming.”, she responded giddily.

“Fine.”, you muttered.

“Go.”, Jenni said, while brushing your back with her hand. Normally you would say this was purely an accident, but the Spanish footballer certainly did that purposeful.  

Once you reached the bathroom you let out an impressed whistle.

“This is really fancy here.”

Your gaze wandered around the interior: the mirrors were large, and everything looked like marble with golden highlights. It screamed expensive. Something you were still not used to as you grew up under rather poor circumstances.

“It’s a bathroom.”, Jenni chuckled amused.

“Still. Besides I don’t remember inviting you inside with me.”, you remarked.

“It’s a public bathroom. I’m allowed to be here.”, she reminded you smiling smugly.

“You’re lucky you’re hot. Although your big mouth.”, you begun.

“This mouth can do even more.”, the forward claimed, closing the gap between the two of you confidently while swaying her hips in a suggestive manner.

“Yes, I’ve heard about it, you’ve got quite a reputation.”, you answered cooly.

“I do?”, Jenni raised an eyebrow, pretending to be scandalized.

“Yes.”, you affirmed.

“Want to find out if it’s true what they say?”, she gave you a challenging look impatiently waiting for your response.

“I always want to know the true story behind a rumour.”, you confessed playfully, her glances almost left you breathless.

“Then don’t move.”, the forward demanded.

“I won’t.”, you assured her.

“Good.”, Jenni nodded satisfied while brushing her lips first against your cheek before wandering down to your lips until she finally kissed you.

There was an intensity and hunger to the kiss which almost knocked off your feet if you haven’t been sitting next to the luxurious water taps.

The older woman knew what she was doing, the rumours turned out to be an understatement in your opinion.

 For a second you caught the reflection of the two of you kissing in the big mirror. You both were breathtaking as a couple.

“Maybe you’re right.”, you mumbled against her mouth.

“I told you we looked good together.”, Jenni smirked triumphantly.

In this case the mirrors didn’t lie it reflected the desire you both had for each other. While the men held their speeches and felt very important you had found something much more meaningful.

[itsoutrageouss]

Hey, is it okay if you wrote a story where Elliot fucks the reader in a bathroom while rue and Jules are looking for them? Thank youu❤️❤️

be quiet for me - elliot

pairing: elliot x reader

words: 0,8k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, slight oral (fem receiving), elliot being a horny mess

—☕️

“Shh baby, gotta be -fuck- quiet for me, m’kay?” Elliot said breathlessly into your ear. He was caging you in as your hands grabbed desperately at the corners of the bathroom wall.

You nodded eagerly, pressing your face into the crook of his neck in an attempt not to make any noise.

Elli couldn’t wait any longer. When you had arrived at Jules’ house for her little birthday get together, you just looked so goddamn fine. His hand was creeping higher and higher on your thigh as all of you were watching a movie and when everyone was distracted with dancing and drinking, he had pulled you aside smoothly.

You were so tight around him now, as he fucked into you over and over again. His thrusts were fast and messy, and you were sure you’d never experienced him this horny ever. He near-whined into your ear, absolutely feral and head over heels for you in this moment.

“Elliot! Fucks sake, y/n! Are you fucking or something? We need you for truth or dare!” Jules and Rue yelled in turns, the sound muffled by the white bathroom door. No one knew you and Elliot had a thing going but he was too horny to be sly tonight.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned your name brokenly. It seemed he was the one that had to be kept quiet, so you placed your hand roughly over his mouth while pushing his head back so he’d look at you. His eyes were watery and pleading, and your hand over his mouth made his eyes roll back and his thrusts impossibly faster. You didn’t reply to the girls as they laughed somewhere downstairs.

Your other hand gripped the edge of the counter he had put you on. His absolute desperateness made you clench around him even tighter, coating his dick is wetness that might even seep onto the tile under you. A thin layer of sweat was glistening on his temple as his hands clawed at your waist, his hips never faulting. “Shit I can’t-“ you whispered, pushing your hips into his now to feel him deeper, faster.

He felt your muscles tighten and his hand flew messily to your wet, puffy clit and rubbed it quickly. Your hand grabbed his wrist and your thighs shook around his hips where his sweats were pushed down. “Fucking cum for me, please,” he ordered, before footsteps where heard outside the door and a loud banging. Horrible timing, because you felt yourself squeeze Elliot’s dick so fucking tight, felt a hot slickness coat him while your heart raced and soft lips were open in a silent moan. You came so fucking hard and Elliot was stunned.

He wanted to reply to Jules’ obnoxious, drunken banging but his hand splayed on the wall instead as he buried his head in your neck, biting down on the apex of your shoulder as he came.

“Two seconds. I- I spilled on my shirt,” you yelled out hastily, breathless and ragged.

“Sure. Just don’t get anything gross on my counter please!” She laughed. “I won’t tell though, I promise”

She smiled to herself before leaving you alone.

Simultaneously you and Elliot breathed out in relief.

“God I’m sick of hiding this,” he muttered from your neck. You pulled his head up by his curls to look at him. When you opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, he pushed his hips flush with yours again, his coarse hair grinding against your oversensitive clit. Your words stuttered over each other into incoherent moaning.

“Fuck I wanna walk back out holding your hand. Please?” He asked softly, breaths still quick and ragged. You felt your heart clench at his request and nodded wordlessly.

“Okay.” You smiled, gasping gently when he pulled out of you. You were about to jump from the counter when you heard the soft of Elliot’s knees hitting the floor.

“So fucking pretty,” he said, voice low and hoarse as his thumb swiped through your wet, slick folds. Your stomach clenched at his words and touch, and he leaned forward to take your clit into his mouth. He sucked carefully while looking up into your eyes, hands on your thighs. You moaned shamelessly this time, not able to look into his intense gaze as your eyes averted to the ceiling.

He gave you a few appreciative kitten licks before getting up and handing you some toilet paper to wiper yourself down. When you had thoroughly cleaned the sink, per Jules’ request, you walked out of the bathroom with Elliot’s warm hand in yours.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Same old, same old — Sanzu Haruchiyo

Content: Angst to fluff

Tropes: bonten! Sanzu

Warnings: drugs and their aftermath, needles, cursing, (slight) description of wounds, crying, yelling

Summary: Can you really handle this again? Should you really handle this again?

Vixen's two cents: I have strayed from my typical hyper fluff for this one and I dont know how to feel about it, please let me know. I thought shortly about making this super angsty (I had a different ending in mind) so lmk if you'd like to see the 'bad' ending to this too! Im still looking for moots so please message me, I promise im not so scary. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN if you have any ideas for me! now enjoy...

When Sanzu comes into your shared high-top flat, he‘s loud. He stumbles over his own feet, curses loudly when his Jacket won’t come off his arms, and runs into the door that stands half-open to the kitchen- livingroom. You’re sitting at the kitchen island when he comes to you, and something about his entrance and the way his pace is erratic and a tad too fast to seem relaxed makes you a little wary. Something is off, you can feel it radiating off of him.

„Hey, you alright?“ you ask innocently enough, trying to look into his eyes but he won’t return your gaze. Instead he just reaches down into the lining of his suit and pulls out a slim packet, slamming it onto the marble in front of you before going past you. „I don’t want to talk about it.“ he hisses as he heads towards the master bedroom.

You‘re confused, and you try to call out after him but he doesn’t respond, so instead you shift your eyes to the item Sanzu had placed before you. It’s a small, dark grey opaque plastic baggy, and it seems to whisper to you in intrigue. You reach for it, carefully peeling back one layer of the tight wraps.

What greets you inside isnt shocking, but disappointing.

Three small syringes, all slim, and notably empty, glint in the lighting, sharp tips sparkling with a metallic, glitter like shine. You sharply inhale, covering the tips with the plastic again to hide them from view. Clutching the packet tightly you stand to rush after Sanzu, who you assume is now in the bedroom.

„Haru?“ you hate the way your voice breaks. You’re supposed to be the strong one, the one who can handle these types of situations. „Haru!“ you call out to him again when you see him disappear into the bathroom, lock clicking when the door falls shut behind him. You lay your hand on the door to the bathroom with the hand thats holding the packet, and the noise the syringes make when they clink against the door makes you cringe. „Open the door baby, please. I promise im not mad at you or anything but please just open the door!” You cry out to him, softly rapping against the door with your hand.

In response you hear him yell “Go away”, and his voice is hoarse- he’s crying - he’s ashamed. Sighing, you cradle your head in your hands, thinking that maybe you can talk him out of it, but you hear the tap of the tub start running- probably to drown you out. “Haru baby we can talk about this, please turn off the water and open the door.” You try to reach him again but it’s useless.

“Go away y/n!” He roars and you can hear him start to strip, clothes being pulled and thrown into the floor. “I’m not leaving you alone Haru! Not when you’re like this!” You pound on the door this time, expressing your urgency to him clearly. On the other side of the door the haste ends, a sniffle reaching your ears over the noise of the running water.

“And I can let you see me like this!” His voice is smaller, weaker than you have ever heard him, and it breaks you. “I’ve seen you at worse baby, and you and I both know it’s better if you’d let me in.”

There are a few paces of relative silence, only the rush of water marking the passing of time. Then you hear another wet sniffle and a sigh, and you hear him slowly coming towards the door, and you step back a little.

Your grip tightens around the packet still in your hands when you hear the lock click open, and you swore you felt yourself go lightheaded for a second out of relief when the door finally opened.

Sanzu reveals himself, and he looks like a mess and a half. Eyes red, from crying and the drugs alike, hair falling and jutting out in messy strands from where it sat in the short pony, shirtless, and as you let your eyes drift down his exposed skin, you saw the hitches. His elbows were bloody and bruised from the injections, and tiny little veins raked the surfaces nearby.

His dress shirt lay bundled up in a forgotten heap on the floor not too far from the bathtub. The water was still running and it was annoying you. With a sigh you reached your empty hand up to him, cursing yourself when he flinched back a little.

You looked at his eyes, but he wouldn't return the gaze. Disappointed, you took the step forward on your own, laying your hand on his chest and pushing him into the bathroom, allowing yourself entry. Your hand traced down his arm, and when it reached his hand, you held it tightly, turning to face him when you walked past him, and puling him along further into the room.

You tugged him to the closed toilet seat, half-forcing him to sit before you, and he let you, slumping down onto the porcelain weakly. You turned shortly, wanting to go and turn off the still-open faucet, but a weak grip held you back.

Turning to look at Sanzu, you heard him mumble something, but the noise was shrouded by the running water. "What was that, love?"

"Dont let go." his voice was frail as he croaked it weakly, and your heart broke a little.

Sighing, you leaned your body towards the tub, reaching the tap and shutting it off, careful not to accidentally let his hand slip from yours. Once done, you straightened yourself and faced him again, walking over to stand between his legs.

"Baby?" he said, eyes only half open, "are you-" his voice got caught in his throat, but you knew what he wanted to ask.

are you mad at me?

are you disappointed?

are you leaving me?

are you out of your mind for staying with me after I've gone to rehab twice and relapsed again, and again, and again?

are you sending me back to rehab?

A million questions lie unanswered between the two of you, and you choose to leave it that way as you guide his hand to rest on your waist, laying your own hands on his shoulders. You look into his tired eyes for a moment before pulling him forward to rest his head on your stomach.

Tracing his back and shoulders, you trail your hands up the back of his neck, scratching the nape a little before traveling up to the ponytail, pulling the holder out of his hair, and letting it fall open. You rake your hands through the sweaty strands, not caring about the grease.

You lean down to press a kiss against his head, hands now holding his jaw and you turn him to face you. "Im here for you, ok? I dont care what happens, I have your back. Always." you press another kiss to his forehead. "Through thick and thin, through good and bad." You kiss his jaw. "I love you baby, and nothing is going to stop me from loving you, not even yourself." Your fingers trace his cheekbones and lay your forehead on his, letting your eyes close.

"Allow me to love you all the way, please. Don't try and run when things get hard like this again, it's not good for either of us." you whisper, and you feel his breath hitch against your face.

His fingers curl around your waist, and you let him breath into you, and when you hear a weak whimper you straighten yourself again, pulling him into you again, letting him cry as you hold his head.

Looking at the wall you count the tiles. Blankly you hold your lovers head and think.

things will get better. things are better.

[goldessia]

first love!reader x second love!megumi

it was always apparent a part of megumi’s heart would belong to his first love. i mean, anyone’s would, right? the first person you love will remain in your heart forever.

but, sometimes, it was hard.

megumi was my first love. is, my first love. the first person i let touch my soul, my heart, and my body. i was wholly, rawly, his.

but, a year into dating, things started to get hard.

a few of megumi’s friends from his old friend-group from his high-school touched base with him. his first love was apart of that group, but they told him they’d long stopped contacting her a while ago.

so, he agreed to meet up with them, both as a chance for his old friends to meet me, and to catch up with them.

an evening dinner is what we agreed on.

“do you think i should wear something fancy?”

“huh?” megumi says, still tired from his nap. “well, do you want to?”

“if you will, i will.” i shrug, holding up my black dress.

i hear the ruffle of our bed, footsteps behind me, and then i feel the warmth of his hands on my stomach as he hugs me. he breathes me in, resting his head on my shoulder.

“i don’t mind. you’ll look beautiful, anyways.” he smiles, presses a kiss to my cheek, and moves toward the bathroom to freshen up.

despite us being together for over a year, his compliments still make me flustered and nervous. i blush, smiling, and opt for jeans and a shirt instead of the dress.

it was just a dinner with friends, right?

when we arrived, i realized i made the wrong decision. apparently, over the years his friends got fancy jobs and therefore were wealthy, and opted for an extremely over-the-top fancy restaurant.

i groan as i step out the car, megumi closing the door behind me after he had opened it.

“this is where we’re eating for a casual let’s-catch-up-dinner?” i frown.

“itadori got some cash, i guess..” he shrugs, “he said he was paying for our meals, so i didn’t think it was very fancy.”

“i’m wearing jeans!” i huff, “they’re going to think i’m some hood-rat you picked up off the street.”

megumi laughs.

“don’t laugh at me!”

he slings an arm around my waist, urging me forward. “they’ll love you. you don’t have to worry.” he places a kiss on my temple, “they’re good people.”

“okay..” i say hesitantly, not really taking in his words.

we step into the restaurant, quickly finding the table as the pink-haired boy, itadori, i presumed, yelled megumi’s name.

“fushiguro!” he yells, the restaurant quieting down to see the commotion, “over here!”

megumi rubs his temples, and cocks his head toward the table. i pick at my fingernails, nervous to walk toward them.

i was happy to see they weren’t wearing any fancy suits or dresses. itadori was wearing sweatpants. nobara was wearing the same as i, jeans and a shirt.

“fushiguro, i see you’re not gray yet.” nobara looks to me, and her eyes widen. “and you have a pretty girlfriend!” she exclaims, “you must be y/n.”

“yeah, uh.. how’d you know?”

“fushiguro told us all about you. the love of my life, he said!”

megumi smiles. i admire the way he isn’t ashamed as he says, “that she is.”

“a few more people are coming.” itadori exclaims as we slide into the booth, “friends of friends, and all that.”

his voice has a certain edge to it, as if he were hiding something.

“that’s fine.” megumi says, “so, what about you, itadori? found yourself a girlfriend, yet?”

“oh, please! nobody would be able to handle itadori. he’s too much.” nobara waves her hand, taking a sip of her wine.

“rude!”

thirty minutes later, the others from his old friend group arrive. gojo and his wife, and a few other of megumi’s teachers flow into the restaurant, followed by—

my heart catches in my throat. silence fills the table.

megumi stiffens beside me. “what is she doing here?” he nearly fumes, a hand wrapping tight around my waist.

itadori chockes on his beer, “oh! uh, um…” he stutters.

“did you know she was coming?” megumi asks, his voice tense, eyes ripping away from her and toward itadori.

“.. would you be mad if i said yes?”

“itadori, i will—“

“megumi!” a voice exclaims. there she was, in her pretty red dress, even more beautiful face and brunette hair. she was an exchange student in their second year. they dated for three years before they broke up.

i feel my heart sink. i look at megumi, and his whole face is tense. his pupils are small, his lips opened in shock. after all, he hadn’t seen her in years. he quickly closes them.

“call me fushiguro.” he says coldly, sparing me a glance. for a second, his eyes soften, his pupils relax. but still, his whole body was tense.

“no need to be so cold to me.” she scoffs, before her eyes turn to me. her eyes scan over me, almost in disgust. i hear her whisper, “this is my replacement?”

she sits across from me, and i feel.. i feel like shit.

he never told me she was so beautiful.

for the rest of the dinner, megumi is silent. i try to place my hand in his, but he pulls it away, shaking his head and looking out the window.

i frown.

i feel tears prickle on my eyes, and god save me if i cried in front of her.

“oh my god, and y/n—“ itadori rambles. he was telling me a story of when they were young.

“you’ll have to excuse me.” i cut him off, a small crack in my voice.

“oh. is everything okay?”

“yeah.” i nod, “i just need to use the washroom.”

i give a reassuring smile as i slide out the booth. megumi’s hand catches my wrist, and he gives me a confused look.

i say nothing and slide my hand away from him, walking toward the door.

i felt like my chest was going to explode; like my heart was going to explode. the second i open the front door and fresh air catches in my lungs, i..

i break.

a tear slides down my cheek, and i am quick to wipe it away. pretty much all the customers had gone away, as it was nearing to close time.

fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

it shouldn’t hurt this bad— why does it hurt this bad? he said he’d gotten over her, that he had no feelings, but it’s so so obvious that part of him still does.

i nearly slide down the wall when i hear a ping from my phone, forcing me back into reality.

megumi. 💍

are you okay?

i stare at the message. i go to type, but everything is blurry, and my hands are shaking. i shut my phone off, and crumble.

a minute later, i hear the chime of the door opening.

“y/n?”

the voice that used to be comforting fills my ears. i turn my head away, shaking my head.

“y/n, talk to me.”

his voice sounds nothing more than an echo. i feel his hands, his warm hands, slide around my face as he kneels next to me, turning my head to look at him.

“oh, baby.” he whispers. i want to push away, i should. but, his touch brings me comfort, he brings me comfort, even if he is the source of my current misery.

“what’s wrong?” he says in my ear, a hand brushing over my back. “talk to me.”

i finally find enough will to push him away. his face shows so much hurt, so much confusion.

“you still love her, don’t you?” my hoarse, tired voice cuts through the night.

“wha.. i, no, no, i don’t love her!” he is quick to defend himself. “our relationship ended years ago. all feeling toward her is gone.”

“that’s a lie. you’re lying.” i say as i stand. i push his hand away that tries to brush the tear off my cheek. “be honest with me here.”

“i am, i am.” he ushers. he raised his hand once more, but hesitated. “i.. you can’t just.. expect me to forget everything that happened between me and her.”

“so i’m right. you still love her.”

he stutters. “i don’t.. i don’t have an answer to that.”

my heart breaks. shatters, even. the man i love, the first and last man i would ever love, still has feelings for an ex he broke up with over five years ago.

i shake my head. my whole body feels like it’s going to crumble any second.

“i’m sleeping at my mothers tonight.” i say, turning away from him.

“wait, wait!” he catches me, hands clasping around my face. he brings me close, eyes scanning my face in a frenzy. “don’t.. don’t do that. please.”

“i need time.” i say, without a hint of emotion in my tone. “away from you.”

“we can figure everything out.” he says, pulling me into him. my body meshes with his, his arms tightly around my waist. “i do admit, some part of me still loves her.” he whispers, like it pains him to say.

i go to push away from him.

“but, but!” he grabs my wrist. “but.. no matter what, it will never shadow the love i have for you.

“back then, i was young, and stupid. my heart was vulnerable. for a while after we had broken up, i never thought i’d find love again.

“but then, i found you. and even though apart of my heart always has a place for her, it’s in the past. i was fifteen when we met. i didn’t know how to handle a relationship, i didn’t even know what love was. truly.

“you taught me that. you taught me what it means to love someone unconditionally. you taught me what it means to love someone.”

my throat catches.

“do you mean that?” i whisper.

“with my whole being, i mean that.” he lets me go, eyes looking over my face. “fuck death do we part, i will find you in every single lifetime. you are all that i want.”

slowly, i smile.

“okay.”

“.. okay.” he nods, face slowly softening. he kisses the crown of my head, breathing in and holding me to his chest. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[ihave-atummyache]

everyone is a little toxic (pt2)

Summary: reader lowkey deserves better

idk why i always make han suck so bad. i love him. i swear

reader lowk just as bad as skz fr!

angstyyyy but sfw

6.3 k words

enjoy (evil smirk)

Bang Chan:

After hiding out in the living room for a while, you decide that you should probably clean up the mess from dinner. You sigh before standing and heading to the kitchen. You scoop the leftovers into a container and start washing dishes and putting them away.

As soon as you're finished washing the dishes, however, you notice that the bowls are uneven, meaning that Chan didn't bring his bowl to the kitchen after he was done like he usually does. You sigh and decide to just face the music instead of avoiding it.

Your feet carry you to the door of his makeshift office before your brain can even process it. You don't bother knocking and Chan's back is to you but his head is on his desk and you can hear the soft snores leaving his mouth. You grab a throw blanket and approach his slumped form at the desk.

The bowl beside his head is empty and you look over at his sleeping form, noticing that his eyes seem to be much more swollen and there is evidence of tears on his face. He's really worked himself into the ground this time. You grab the bowl and retreat back to the kitchen, quickly washing it and heading to your bedroom.

You're cuddled up in bed on your phone when you hear your bedroom door creak open and soft footsteps approach the bed. You turn over when your boyfriend doesn't lay down and the sight in front of you is beyond pitiful.

Chan has the throw blanket around his shoulders and his eyes are swollen and full of tears, threatening to overflow. His bottom lip is jutting out and quivering and you can't help but act on instinct. You roll over and pull the blanket back, opening your arms.

"Oh, Chris. Come here," your voice is soft and you catch sight of one tear falling when he crawls into bed and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You feel his tears wetting your skin but you just rub comforting circles on his back and quietly try to calm your boyfriend down.

His tears slowly come to a halt and your hand makes its way into his hair, fingertips rubbing his scalp. He lets out a sigh and you know that you don't have to say anything yet, he’s thinking of what to say so you don’t have to.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I don't know why I said the things I said. I hate that I always take my stress out on you because you don't deserve it. I'm going to try to be better," he promises quietly into your neck and you pull back to get a good look at him. His eyes are bloodshot and swollen and he has tears smeared all over his face.

"Channie, it's okay I-"

"No. It's not okay. I can't keep treating you like shit and expect you to still love me," his words are harsh but you understand where he is coming from. He's taking accountability for his own actions. You reach up and brush away the wet marks on his face gently with your thumbs before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I could never stop loving you," you whisper against his lips and he presses his lips to yours in another kiss.

"I'll work on it. I swear I will," the urgency in his voice makes a smile cross your face and you nod, pulling your boyfriend to you again and he immediately nestles back into your neck.

"Let's sleep, baby. I love you," you whisper against the top of his head, planting another kiss in his hair. It only takes a few minutes before you hear his breathing get deeper and you know that he is finally fast asleep.

Lee Know:

You hear a gentle knock on the bathroom door and you let out a sound of annoyance. You knew he had a key to the bedroom but there isn't a key for the bathroom so you locked yourself in here.

"Go away, Minho. I said go yell at someone who wants to hear it," you grumble and place the bandaid over your cut. After about five minutes, you were finally able to get the bleeding to stop. Which means it only took Minho five minutes to come to his senses, find the bedroom key, and break in.

"Y/n..." his tone is pitiful and you hear him slide down the other side of the bathroom door. You take a step towards the door and decide it would be best to not open it right now. You're still too upset and seeing his perfect face right now would probably just piss you off more.

Instead you slide down on the cabinet beside the door and bring your knees to your chest, letting your head rest against the door. When your head meets the wood, there's a gently tap and Minho lets out a small sigh on the other side.

"I know you're listening, baby. Can you open the door so I can look at your cut please? There was a lot of blood and I just want to make sure you don't need stitches," he reasons in a gentle tone and you worry your teeth with your bottom lip.

His primary love language is acts of service. This is him apologizing in his own backwards, Minho kind of way.

You sigh but reach up, turning the lock. You hear your boyfriend scramble to his feet before the door swings open. You look up at him and he steps over one of your legs, standing between them and then drops to his knees, making your legs rest on either one of his thighs.

"May I?" He asks quietly, almost like if he speaks too loud, it might shatter the thick air between you two. He grabs your wrist and flips your hand over. He peels the bandaid up and you let out a hiss as the air hits it.

"I just put that on," you grumble out and he shakes his head, ultimately ignoring your complaint as he takes in the cut on your hand.

"It doesn't look like you need stitches," he pauses and you use this opportunity to sneak in your own snide comment.

"I could've told you that," your voice is dripping with sarcasm. His eyes dart to yours for a moment but he chooses not to respond to this statement either.

"You should at least bandage this properly," he finishes and reaches up next to the sink, grabbing the first aid kit. He sits back and crosses his legs. Minho grabs the back of your knees and drags you closer to him, so your knees are now hooked over his thighs.

He pulls out the gauze and bandages and starts to clean your hand and wrap it much better than you had done.

"This is all my fault," he suddenly mutters after he finishes bandaging you up. He presses a quick kiss to the place where your cut is and looks up at you.

"It isn't all your fault. Just mostly," you shrug and he lets out a half hearted laugh, cutting the tension in the room. You pull your hand from his and wrap both of your arms around his neck.

You pull yourself up to fully sit on his lap and straddle his hips more comfortably. His hands find purchase on your hips and you feel his thumbs rubbing soothing circles through your sweatpants.

"I don't know why I'm such a dick," he breathes out and locks eyes with you before continuing, "I can't figure out why someone as perfect as you would want to be with someone like me," he confesses and your heart drops. Why would he ever feel that way? If anything, you feel like its the other way around!

"I'm not perfect, Minho. And I'm with you because you're funny," you lean down and kiss his forehead gently, "Talented," another kiss to his left eye, "Handsome," a kiss to his right eye, "Smart," his nose, "Kind," you seal this one with a kiss to his lips before pulling away to look at him again.

"You are kind, Minho. Your flip from kind to annoyed just gets triggered a bit easier than everyone else's. I don't walk on eggshells around you and I never have which is why you think you're so mean to me. I just press your buttons is all," you try to reassure him and a small smile makes its way to his lips.

"I love you. You know that?" He asks wrapping his arms around you to bring you chest to chest with him.

"Mhm. I love you most," you confirm and wrap your arms around his neck as well, tightening the hug.

Changbin:

Your boyfriend isn't one to back down from a fight so seeing you walk away makes his blood boil. He follows you, hot on your heels.

"Can I just have some fucking space, Changbin. Please." It's technically a question but your demanding tone was more than enough to make it clear that you aren't asking.

"No. Talk to me," he answers anyways, ignoring the fact it wasn't really a question. You throw your hands in the air and turn around, making Changbin slam right into you. You stand your ground and don't even stumble a step.

"You want me to talk? Fine. I'll talk. What do you want me to say?" you prompt, crossing your arms over your chest. He stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening but immediately closing again.

"If you can't tell me what you want to hear, I can't say it," you instigate him and he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"I don't want you to say anything besides how you are feeling right mow, y/n," he grumbles out, obviously annoyed with your antics.

"Are you actually going to listen to me or are you going to brush it off like you always do?"

"I never brush things you say off," he defends but you roll your eyes in return. You sit down on the couch and lay your legs across it, throwing a blanket over you. Your boyfriend stands in the entranceway of the living room, observing and waiting for you to speak to him.

"Well?" he prompts you but you ignore him, instead reaching for the remote and flipping on the T.V.

"Bun, are you seriously not going to talk to me?" He is trying to persuade you again and you make the mistake of glancing over at him, his sickeningly sweet pout covering his face. He looks precious and you can't help the guilt you feel creeping into your chest.

"Don't start try to be all cute now," You murmur out, opting to turn your attention to the T.V instead. Although, you really weren't focusing on anything on the screen.

"Just talk to me. I hate fighting," he grabs your legs and lifts them, placing them onto his lap. You sigh but press pause on the T.V. anyways.

"You hate fighting but you cause every fight. Why is that?" You instigate, putting the remote down and trying to ignore the soothing circles your boyfriend is rubbing on your calves.

"But I don't. You just-"

"Choose your next words very wisely, Changbin," you warn before he can even begin to say anything too out of pocket. He closes his mouth and his eyebrows drop into a furrow, obviously trying to choose his words wisely. You close your eyes and let your head fall back to rest on the arm rest of the couch.

Silence falls between the two of you for a few minutes and you finally pry your eyes open to look at Changbin. He is staring straight ahead and you can tell he is deep in thought. He isn't looking at anything in particular but that crease is still sitting between his brows. You tap his stomach gently with your foot to get his attention.

"Just say it," you breathe out and he looks over at you which makes you notice the overall solemn look covering his face. His normal pout seems to be extra pouty and his shoulders are slouched. He looks defeated.

"Do you actually think I'm arrogant?" He asks quietly and you want to lie and tell him no, you want to do anything to get that look off his stupid face but you can't stop your mouth from telling the truth.

"I do. I think you are arrogant and you never want to be wrong. I think that you put yourself first in this relationship instead of us being treated as equals," you confess and he breaks eye contact, staring down at his hand on your shin instead.

"But," you continue, drawing his attention to you once more, "I do love you. I don't want you to ever think that I don't," you conclude and he nods, agreeing with you.

"Do you want to break up with me?" he suddenly asks and a lump forms in your throat. You have never thought about whether or not this attribute of Changbin's would cause the end of your relationship. It has definitely taken its toll on you mentally and your relationship.

"Can I be honest with you?" You ask and he immediately nods, silently begging for your answer to be no.

"I honestly don't know," you breathe out, his glassy eyes meet yours, he's surprised to see that there are no tears in your eyes. You actually seem surprisingly calm and very level headed.

"Have you thought about this before?" His voice crack gives way to how he is actually feelings and you swallow, shaking your head, "Then how are you so calm?" He asks, tears starting to fall from his eyes.

"I'm not sure. I just have a lot on my mind I think. I never want to leave you. I mean, God, you're the love of my life but it just seems like you have... growing up to do," you speak quietly, trying your best not to break his already fragile state anymore.

"Please don't leave me," He's suddenly begging you, grip tightening around your ankle. His big pleading puppy dog eyes are boring into yours and you sit up. You reach forward and place a hand on his cheek, using your thumb to gently wipe a few tears.

"Let's just see how this all pans out, yeah?" You ask him and lean forward, pressing your forehead to his, before leaning back to your original position and pulling your legs off his lap.

"For tonight, I think you should go home," You continue and stand, walking towards your front door. Changbin stares at you for a moment before gathering his phone, wallet, and keys into his pocket and following you. You open the door and he steps out, turning to face you.

"Good night, Binnie. I love you," you speak out but before he can open his mouth to reply, you close the door and turn the deadbolt.

Hyunjin:

You hear the gentle knocks on your door but opt against actually answering. He has your code so if he actually wants to talk to you, he can get in. You don't have to guess who it is. Your boyfriend does this anytime you have any sort of disagreement. Suddenly, he's at your door step and begging for forgiveness.

"Go away, Hwang Hyunjin," you yell from your spot on the couch when he knocks again. Instead of listening to you, you hear the code get punched in and he enters anyways.

"What part of 'go' and 'away' do you not understand? And if you were going to come in anyways, what's the point of knocking?" You complain. Your boyfriend kicks off his shoes and leans against the door frame to the living room.

"I don't want to walk in if you aren't home. And I definitely(italics) am not listening to what you have to say if you're using my full name. There is a list of names my girlfriend is allowed to call me and I can guarantee 'Hwang Hyunjin' is not(italics) on the list," he raises his eyebrows at you and crosses his arms.

"Well since you broke in, what do you want?" you prompt him to go ahead and say what he needs to because you really aren't in the mood for his bullshit today.

"I just came to apologize," he pushes himself off the doorframe and approaches you but you scoff and stand from the couch, keeping the distance between the two of you.

"If you were ever truly sorry, we wouldn't go through this so much, you know? If you meant your apologies then this," you point back and forth between the two of you, "Wouldn't be so hard," you deadpan and he takes another step which you mirror by taking a step backwards.

"We're hard? Like you and me? This is hard to you?" He asks quietly, chewing the inside of his cheek. You open your mouth but snap it closed again when you realize just how harsh this is coming out.

"Just say it, y/n. Just tell me the truth. I'm a big boy, I can handle it," his voice is barely louder than a whisper. You run your hands through your hair and let out a groan, turning away from him.

"Why do I always have to come out as the bad guy? Yes, Hyunjin, this is hard. I knew it would be hard coming into this with you. I can deal with paparazzi. I can deal with crazy fans. I can deal with strict management. I can't deal with this image that you for some reason feel like you need to maintain. Do you not see the strain it is putting on this relationship?" You rant. You want to stop the words from leaving your mouth but they're tumbling from your tongue before your brain can stop them.

"I just want to be..." he starts but trails off quickly when he realizes what he was going to say.

"Perfect(italics)." You finish for him and his eyes drop to the floor between the two of you. You're right. He has been putting more strain on looking good for everyone else, that he isn't even noticing the unhappiness of his own girlfriend.

"I don't even know what to say right now. I don't think anything I can say will satisfy you," he makes this confession much more solemnly than his last. You let out a sigh and wait for his eyes to meet yours again.

"I love you and I always will but I think we need some time apart. How does that sound?" You offer and hear him suck in a sharp breath at the suggestion. You also don't really want to take a 'break' but you feel like you really have some things to think about.

"That sounds terrible," he deadpans and your lip finds its way between between your teeth before he takes a breath and continues, "But if that will make you happy, I'm willing to do anything for you," he nods at you and you nod in reply.

He turns away from you and slips his shoes that he just removed back on before opening the door and closing it gently behind him.

Han:

A few hours later, it is way past your usual bedtime and you find yourself obsessing over the video of your boyfriend. He hasn't come to try to work things out with you and you find yourself anxiously bouncing your leg at the bar.

"What am I doing?" you speak out to yourself again before standing and making your way to the bedroom. When you enter, you hear the water running in the shower and crawl into your bed, hoping to be asleep before Jisung is out.

Just as your eyes are getting to heavy to stay open, you hear the shower water turn off and Jisung moving around the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Although you are mad at him, the familiar sounds of his nighttime routine lull you right to sleep.

When you awake the next morning, you don't feel Jisung around you at all. You reach for your phone and are quite surprised to see 99+ notifications on pretty much every single one of your social medias. You unlock your phone and click on one of the apps, immediately going to Jisungns profile. This has to be something to do with him.

You click on his story and click through a few before you see the reason for your sudden increase in popularity. Jisung had posted you sleeping peacefully on his story with the caption, 'the only one for me'. You can't stop the smile that covers your face and hop out of bed to find your boyfriend.

You are pleased to find a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a hand written note in the middle when you enter your kitchen.

'I won't be here when you see this, but I want to make everything up to you when I get back from the studio. I love you my heart'

An even bigger smile covers your face when you read the note and you hold it up to your heart while you lean down to smell the flowers. He knows you well and he knows how to make you happy. Happy enough to almost forget about your feelings from last night.

Almost.

You walk back to your room and grab your phone, opening your boyfriend's contact.

'flowers won't fix it jisung'

You send it before you have time to over think what to say. You toss your phone down and get everything ready to take a quick shower. Hopefully, it'll help you gather your thoughts and get your mind right before he gets home.

You hear your phone vibrate and are surprised to see Jisung's name. Whenever he is at the studio or practicing, he rarely replies. This is expected since he is busy and working on his career. You can't expect him to be at your every beck and call.

'Good morning. I'm on my way home now' your eyebrows drop to a furrow at the message. It was still early in the morning and he couldn't have left too long before you woke up.

'?? you just left'

'I was just busying my mind until you woke up. I'll get us coffee' you lock your phone and head to the bathroom again. This gives you much less thinking time than you would like.

Around the same time you are pulling a hoodie over your head to protect you from the chill in the air, you hear your front door opening. You can tell from the footsteps that it's Jisung and walk out to see him sat at the dining room table on his phone and sipping a coffee.

His eyes shoot up to meet yours when he notices you're there and he pushes your coffee towards the other side of the table. You sit across from him and pull the coffee towards you, taking a sip. It was perfect, exactly how you like it and your chest tightens. He really does seem to try to be a good boyfriend. So why is it so hard to keep his attention on just you?

"Y/n? Did you hear me?" Jisung's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and and you blink at him a few times, bringing yourself back to reality.

"I said I'm sorry," he repeats himself, picking at the label on his coffee cup before continuing, "I'm sorry for being such a shit boyfriend. I'm sorry for always making you second guess my loyalty. I was thinking last night after you said what you said and I think I finally realize where you are coming from. I don't mean for you to be a secret," he tries to explain himself but in all honesty, it isn't pulling at you.

"Say something?" he pleads suddenly and you break eye contact, looking down at the cup again.

"I'm tired," you breathe out, looking back up at him again. He purses his lips in confusion before asking for clarification.

"Didn't you just wake up?"

"I don't mean physically. I mean... mentally. Emotionally. I'm exhausted," you confess and Jisung's grip on his cup tightens.

"What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me? Baby, please," he's suddenly begging and reaches across the table to take your hand in his but you retreat, staying just out of his reach.

"You hurt me. It hurts seeing the one that I love have their eyes on somebody else. You get that don't you?" you ask quietly. The tense silence falls between the two of you and Jisung's eyes grow wide.

"You love me?" he whispers it out. If there were any other noises in the house, you wouldn't have been able to hear the question. You sigh but nod anyways.

"I do. But, I love myself too. I deserve better than what you are giving me right now. You get that, don't you?" you ask and feel the first tears spring to your eyes. You let your eyes focus in the ceiling to try to prevent the tears from falling.

"I'm so sorry," Jisung's voice cracks and you look at him to see tears flowing freely down his face, "I love you too. I love you so much that it hurts," he confesses. You stand from the table and nod down at the crying boy in front of you.

"Then let me go," you speak quietly and a small broken sob rips through your ex boyfriend's chest.

Felix:

You stir when you wake up, happy to be off today and happy to feel your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you. As soon as you move even an inch, Felix’s arms tighten around you and you immediately relax into his touch. You move slightly and realize that he has on different clothes than he did last night.

“How long have you been up?” you ask, voice still hoarse with sleep. He presses a kiss to the back of your head and pulls you impossibly closer to his body.

“Only an hour or so. I had something to take care of,” his deep voice carries no traces of sleep at all. He has been up for a while.

“Oh?” You question, turning in his arms and facing him finally. He looks like an angel. Maybe it’s because you just woke up and are feeling extra nice but he really looks so pretty.

“Mhm. I got on the phone with IT and got your computer fixed. Go look,” a small prideful small covers his face and you sit up quickly in the bed.

“No way! Really?” you squeal and jump out of the bed, going straight to your desk and opening the laptop. A huge smile covers your face when you realize that he is telling the truth. Your computer is finally working how it should be.

“As happy as I am that you did this, I’m kind of sad,” you turn and face Felix and his smile drops at your words.

“Why’s that, princess?”

“Because now I actually have to work on my project,” you giggle and his smile immediately reappears. He stands from the bed and walks over to you, standing between your legs. You wrap your arms around his hips and rest your chin on his stomach to look up at him. He busies on of his hands with smoothing your bed head and the other rubs soothing circles on your shoulder.

“Thank you. You’re the best, Lixie,” you place a kiss to his stomach before turning your head and pressing your cheek to his stomach instead, making the hug a bit deeper. Before Felix can reply with something far too humble and far too cute, you speak again.

“I’m sorry for how I acted last night. I know you’re just being helpful but I hate feeling stupid,” you confess and his fingers scratch at your scalp.

“It is never my intent to make you feel that way. You are probably the smartest person I know,” he responds quietly and you turn your head to look up at him again.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you speak up and he moves his hands to cup your face instead.

“I like to think I’m the lucky one,” he smiles down at you before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Seungmin-

Your tears are streaming down your face with the water and you’re forcing back sobs. You are too occupied to hear the bathroom door open, your boyfriend taking his own clothes off, even the shower curtain being pulled back.

You don’t even realize that Seungmin is in the room with you until you feel his hands wrap around your middle and his bare chest presses to your bare back. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder and that’s all it takes for the dam to break and the sobs start sneaking past your lips.

“Did I make you cry?” His voice is quiet, guilty and you nod your head, then shake it, then nod again, before shaking it once more. Seungmin fights back the chuckle that threatens to leave his throat at your uncertainty.

“Why don’t you like me?” The words leave your mouth and a deafening silence would be filling the room if it weren’t for the running water.

“I love you, y/n. Don’t think-”

“I know you love me, Seungmin. Why don’t you like(italics) me?” your breathing returns to normal and Seungmin wraps his arms fully around your middle. Hugging you tightly from behind.

“I like you more than anyone in the world,” he speaks into your damp hair and you chew down on your lip, trying your best to calm your emotions.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you speak out and let your head fall back into his shoulder, allowing him access to press a gentle kiss to your neck.

“I hate that I hurt you so much. I just don’t know how to express myself well when it comes to you. I try to be straightforward but it just comes across as…” he trails off and you can’t help finishing the sentence for him.

“Cruel(italics),” you breathe out and his thumbs rub either side of your ribs for a moment before he finally nods against your neck in agreement. You sigh and let your hand make its way behind you and gently thread into your boyfriend’s hair, scratching his scalp gently.

“I’ll wash your hair,” you offer and he immediately loosens his grip and switches places with you. Seungmin loves when you wash his hair and he never denies you when you offer. He looks into your eyes for a moment and leans down, placing a gentle kiss to your lips before dropping to his knees in front of you.

You tilt his head back into the stream of water and start lathering it up with shampoo Seungmin’s eyes never leave your face and a small smile makes its way to your face, accompanied by a light blush.

“Close your eyes,” you demand but he shakes his head, his hands running up and down the back of your thighs.

“I can’t. You’re so pretty,” now it’s Seungmin’s turn to blush and you shake your head at him.

“I’m sure I’m all puffy and splotchy from crying earlier,” he tease him but his mouth drops into a small pout at the statement. He seems genuinely upset that he made you cry like that.

“Have I ever made you cry before?” he suddenly asks and your eyes dart to his eyes quickly before focusing back on his hair. You hum in response and hud grip your thighs tightens, making you stop and look into his eyes again. If you ever kicked a puppy, you can imagine it would show a very similar expression.

“Time to rinse,” you gulp and tilt Seungmin’s head towards the stream again and rinse the shampoo out. You expect him to rise but he remains on his knees in front of you and presses a kiss to your hip.

“I love you. I like you. I can’t imagine myself with anyone else,” he suddenly confesses and you smile down at him before dropping to your knees to be face to face with him.

“It’s going to take much more than you making me cry a few times for me to leave you alone, Kin Seungmin,” you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

I.N:

When you walk into the mall to buy a new perfume, you don’t expect to run into anyone you know, especially your ex boyfriend. Especially not your ex boyfriend who you are just as in love with now as you were two months ago.

“Innie?” Your voice comes out before you can think on whether or not it is a better idea to pretend you don’t see him. He tenses and you notice his shoulders seem a bit more broad than you remember and you can see some muscles peaking through the back of his black t-shirt.

He turns and your eyes lock for a moment. Although you can’t see the bottom half of his face through the mask, you know his mouth is open by the shock in his eyes. You approach him and he freezes again, obviously unsure of where this is going.

“It’s good to see you. How are you?” You decide to break the ice and Jeongin blink for what seems like the first time since you locked eyes.

“I’ve been better. How are you, y/n? You look good as always. Just got off work?” He asks finally, putting down the hoodie in his hands. You nod in response and glance down at his shirt again.

“I did. Was just going to get more perfume and a bite to eat,” you pause and chew on your lip for a second before continuing, “Wanna join?” your voice is quiet, cautious. If he rejects you, it seems like it would hurt less if you don’t fully ask him out loud. This was stupid. You should’ve known better than to-

“I would love to. Same place as always?” Jeongin’s voice interrupts your thoughts and you smile at him, nodding.

“Same place as always,” you parrot him and he quickly falls into step with you, both of you completely abandoning the original goal of why you’re both at the mall.

You both enter the restaurant and get sat quickly. The entire place was practically empty which makes it easy for Jeongin to remove his mask and not have to worry about being photographed. He reaches up to remove his mask and your eyes drop to his bicep. He definitely is getting bigger.

“Have you been working out?” you ask and cross your hands in front of you on the table. A bashful smile covers his face and he scratches his head, focusing down on the menu instead.

“Yeah a little bit,” he mumbles out and you smile. He’s just as sweet and just as humble as always. You two drop into small talk for the most part until your food arrives at the table.

“You know,” Jeongin starts before scooping up a bite of food, “The night we broke up, I was going to ask if you wanted to come here to eat with me. I was going to let us finally be photographed together,” he concludes and you freeze at his statement.

“Are we going to do this right now? You want to talk about this?” you ask quietly and set your fork down on the table.

“I want to say no but seeing you like this just makes me miss you so much,” he confesses, sitting his own fork down as well.

“Where were you, Innie?” you deadpan and he breaks eye contact, glancing down at your plate then meeting your eyes again.

“I just didn’t want you to see me like that. I wasn’t anywhere but home, physically(italics). But in my head, I wasn’t me. I was somebody that I didn’t even recognize. I was hurting and I didn’t want to hurt you so I pushed you away,” he concludes and chews the inside of his cheek.

“You hurt me more by pretending I didn’t exist,” you whisper across the table and he runs a hand through his hair. He nods in agreement and you nod back, pushing your plate away from you slightly so you can lean on the table again.

“I’m sorry. I still love you and I always will, y/n. You know that right?” He reaches across the table and places his hand on top of yours, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. You flip your hand over and he quickly intertwines your fingers.

“I still love you and I always will, Innie. We should hang out again soon,” you offer and he nods, eagerly.

“Already wanting to hang out with me again and we just started this hang out,” he teases and you laugh, kicking him gently under the table.

“Hush. We have much more to talk to about, mister,” you reply and pull your hand from his, picking your utensils back up. “For now, I’m going to dig in. I haven’t been able to force myself to come here since we broke up and it smells too good,” you confess and he nods.

“Me too,”

[starvity]

heyy! you can totally ignore this is ur not comfy but i’m sick (and delusional) rn so how would zb1 react to reader having a nose bleed when they’re hiding their sickness 🫶

anyways i love all your work so farrr <33

— ☆ zb1 reacting to you getting a nose bleed

gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)

genre: slight angst, fluff // warnings: BLOOD obviously, arguments/yelling, tears uhuh. reader is sick and tired...

author’s note: get well soon anon :(( i am once again writing angst today what is happening!!! thank you for requesting though hehe and let me call jebewon real quick and tell them to take care of you!!! (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong

he would totally panic but only internally. in reality, he will try to act composed to take care of you and your nose bleed. will get you some tissues and a warm towel to wipe the blood stains off your nose. once he made sure the nose bleed had stopped, his panic mode will comeback and he's going to ask you thousands of questions!! if you tell him that it's not the first time that it has happened this week he will obviously lecture you and force you to cuddle with him until you get better. "didn't i tell you to stay in bed?" jiwoong asks. "i'm just going to open the door, calm down." you chuckle, trying to get behind your boyfriend who was standing in front of the door, blocking it. a sudden smile breaks the serious look on his face. he lifts you up and throws you on the bed. "i'll be your legs for this week so stay here, will you?"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hao

very confused when you were casually talking on the couch and he notices the blood dripping from your nose. probably like :O for a few seconds before you kindly ask him to get you some tissues. trips and bumps into furniture a few times on his way to the bathroom because he's confused and panicked. however, when you tell him you've been kinda sick but you were hiding it from him, prepare yourself to get yelled at lmao. of course, not to the point to make you cry but i see him just screaming some incoherent sentences (definitely curses in chinese under his breath lol) about how you need to take your health seriously. in the end, he will softly kiss you and make a promise to never hide anything from the other again :]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin

leader mode activated!!!! as soon as he noticed your nose was bleeding, he tells you not to panic as he gets a tissue from his bag. he softly places it on your face and explains to you what's happening. you might think he's the calmest one but his eyes can't lie!! he's looking at you with such a concerned face when you tell him your health hasn't been the best lately. you chuckle, letting him know that he doesn't need to worry. he sighs and takes your hands in his, asking you to please tell him when you're sick so he can help you with chores, work, etc. throughout the week, when you get up to cook, clean or even go out instead of resting, he will call your name sternly and point to the bed with a small nod, indicating you to go lie down before he does it himself.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew

super confused n°2. when he notices you rushing to the bathroom from your desk, he doesn't really question it. but when he goes to wash his hands and sees the blood-stained tissues in the trashcan, he knew something wasn't right. matthew comes up from behind you, who was super focused writing on your laptop, and wraps his arms around your torso. he starts pressing some kisses along your jawline, suggesting you to take a break. when you don't seem to move at his words, he turns your chair around and cups your cheeks with his hands. upon seeing the tired look on your face, he asks if you've been sick lately. when you tell him you were but didn't want to tell him, he takes you in his arms and carries you to the bed. you end up talking a bit (mainly matthew ranting about how much he loves you and how you should take care of yourself) before falling asleep.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae

takes it extremely seriously. your nose starts bleeding again and you sigh, grabbing another tissue. the box was almost empty with the amount of times it had happened this week. you reassure taerae that you were used to it as his eyes widen. he cannot believe you've been hiding the fact that you were sick from him and worse, that you lied; saying you were fine whenever he asked you how you were doing. i wouldn't even be surprised if a small argument occured because i feel like taerae would base his relationships on trust and you hiding something from him will definitely hurt him a little. probably gives you the silent treatment for 3 hours (cause he's just dramatic like that) before coming back to your shared room to check up on you. when he discovers that you still haven't taken a break he throws a blanket on your face and drags you to the bed (on the floor, if he has to). wouldn't talk for a good 20 minutes before sighing and telling you to never hide anything from him again. he also apologizes for the small fight and kisses your face over and over again <3

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky

like every friday, ricky was taking you on a date. you had fallen sick at the beginning of the week and you kinda wish you could’ve staid home today. but since it was the only day you two could really hang out, you didn't want to cancel your plans. you were sitting on the bed, waiting for ricky who takes forever to get ready. your head starts spinning so you briefly close your eyes in hope that the feeling will go away. you hear him softly call your name, asking your opinion on which tie would suit him better. and you know how they get nose bleeds when they see someone attractive in anime? well today, ricky thought that it could also happen in real life. he starts to laugh, saying how your body can't handle his charm, in a teasing voice. when you tell him it's because you've been sick though, his smile drops immediately. he can't really hide the embarrassing blush on his ears as he apologizes for this bad "joke" (he was completely serious). "then let's stay inside today, yeah?" he suggests, opening his arms for a hug.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin

another dramatic one omg... i also see him being kinda terrified of blood so he will probably throw you some tissues from a distance, his face turned away from you and his eyes shut. you can't help but laugh at his behaviour while he screams that it's not something to joke about and that he will call his mom to drop you off at the hospital. "i've just been feeling kinda sick, don't worry about it", you confess but he suddenly grabs your face, shaking it slightly "why didn't you tell me!?", he screams. gyuvin abruptly stops his action, his face growing dark again when he thinks about the possibility of another nose bleed happening from shaking you like this. later, you end up watching a movie together, finally allowing yourself to rest. you can't help but giggle every 5 minutes when you turn your head just to see gyuvin staring at you with big eyes "are you REALLY sure you're okay??". please kiss him and tell him you're alright for the nth time today because my man is STRESSED.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook

see, gunwook is super attentive so i don't think it would be so easy to hide the fact that you were sick. you noticed how he would check up on you more often, and how he would offer to do the chores for you (even though he would always whine when he had to do them). when you kept telling him that you were alright, he tried to appear less concerned but so many questions were still running at the back of his mind. his assumptions were finally revealed to be true as a drop of blood lands on your sheet while you were studying together. you try to hide your face from him, quickly grabbing a tissue to clean the blood. "let me see." he cups your cheeks, obliging you to look at him. you had never seen him so serious and if you were being honest, the unusual frown on his face was scaring you a little. you spoke first, admitting that you've been sick and apologizing for not letting him know. gunwook shushes you with a peck on your forehead as he sees your eyes water. you spend the entire night talking about your concerns, holding and comforting each other. <3

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin

doesn't really make it a big deal. or at least that's how it looks like. yujin has been observing how hard you've working and how you would look a bit more tired than usual. you would reply late to his texts, ignore his calls because you were "sleeping", tell him that you can't meet up because you're busy...again... he was once again having trouble falling asleep tonight as many thoughts were clouding his mind. he had even asked his mom and his friends about how to bring the subject up with you. looking at the time on the clock, he gets up and decides to walk to your house, not knowing if you would even be awake to let him in. you open the door, a tissue stuffed into your nostril and awkwardly greet yujin. he stares at you blankly before letting himself in and closing the door behind him. without a word, he hugs you "you're stupid", his voice sounds weak. you apologize, rubbing his back as you hear his sobs, he must have been so worried to see you like this. "promise me to never overwork yourself again when you're sick", he pulls away and dries his tears. "i promise", you murmurs and interlocks pinkies.

[satinsummer]

Chapter 4: What do I wear?

Summary: It’s date night. Will Y/N be able sweep Sam off her feet? Will the night go as planned? Lets find out

Chapter 5: https://www.tumblr.com/satinsummer/761292503089627136/chapter-5-she-loves-me-she-loves-me-not

Pairings: G!P Reader x Fem!SamCarpenter

Warnings: Suggestive Language, Drug Use (smoking weed), Smut!!!! 18+ MEN & MINORS DONT INTERACT

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Nobody's Pov:

The first thing Y/N noticed when she woke up wasn't the light shinning in through the blinds in Sam's room nor was it the footsteps she heard outside of the bedroom door. Instead the first thing she noticed was Sam's barely covered lower half was nestled perfectly against her, pushing back every so slightly as the girl shifted in her sleep. This was not a good position for Y/N AT ALL, being as though they both agreed to take things slow it began to get harder and harder both physically and literally. Y/N had to fight the urge to press herself more into the older girl, just to let her feel how happy she is to see her, to feel her, and much much more but that could wait. Trying to fight the battle in both her heads, she realized she had two options: sleep it off or cold shower. The fist choice didn't sound too bad unless she counted the fact that this is how she ended up having to make this VERY hard decision.

Y/N wished she could have Sam, right here and now but that would happen in due time. Gently rubbing the girl in her arms back, Y/N whispered Sam's name to which she immediately perked up. She was never much of a heavy sleeper when everyone was over since something was always breaking. "Mmmm" Sam hums in response to the girl behind her. "I need to go take care of this.." Y/N trails off, while pressing her hips into Sam to emphasize her point. Suddenly, Sam's entire body feels like it's on fire, sure she's felt Y/N get hard and press against her the few times they made out but this was different. There was a lot less clothing involved and Sam could've sworn she felt it twitch.

Turning her head slightly and pressing herself further unto Y/N's body, she wrapped her arm around the back of Y/N's head and began to kiss her. The grip Y/N had on Sam's hip was almost bruising, she was trying so hard not to lose control. She had been so respectful in the way that she kissed and touched Sam. Allowing everything to move at her pace. Sam bit her bottom lip, while Y/N's hand left her hip to wrap around her throat never pulling her mouth away from Sam's. As Sam moaned into her mouth she felt her brain going hazy all thoughts of taking things slow starting to vanish until she heard the voices outside of her door. "They are probably fu-" "Chad finish that sentence and I'll kill you" Tara yells, charging towards the boy only to get scooped up by her girlfriend. "Okay, okay. Let's make you something to eat?" Y/BF/N suggests. "We all know Y/N/N is the chef, we don't eat till she cooks" Anika declares.

Pulling back from Sam, Y/N dropped down on the bed now staring up at the ceiling. Putting her hands over her face, she giggled a bit. "They are capable of cooking yet they always want me to do it." She sighs moving her hands. "You are the Chef" Sam replies climbing on top her, just before she could drop her hips down Y/N caught her with a smirk. "You said slow, Sammy" Placing a kiss to her forehead she moved from underneath her and walked over towards the door. "Cold shower, then breakfast. I suggest the same for you" Y/N says smiling, spinning around and walking out of the room before the older carpenter has a chance to even form a coherent response.

After a very needed cold shower and reset Y/N exits the bathroom and heads towards the kitchen to make breakfast for everyone. "So, how was your night" Y/BF/N smirks leaning against the counter. "I have no idea what you mean" Y/N replies not turning around to face her best friend knowing she couldn't hide the lovesick look on her face. "Yeah, sure. First she's threatening you, next your sharing beds and going on a date. Welcome to dating a Carpenter 101 the next stop is: GIRLFRIEND TOWN" Y/BF/NN laughs throwing her arm around Y/N. "But seriously, Sam is great and you seem to be actually sleeping when you're with her. That's great Y/N/N" She continues. "Sam is great, she’s more than great..she’s everything Y/BF/N" Y/N whispers, eyes not daring to leave the food in front of her afraid she'd seem too vulnerable.

With a squeeze to her shoulder and kiss to her head Y/BF/N softly said "You're so lovesick it's disgusting" Elbowing her in the ribs Y/N finally let her eyes meet her best friends just as Sam entered the kitchen. "I don't know what to where on this date tonight, is there a dress code?" She questions Y/N.

Flipping the french toast, Y/N thought about it. Was there a dress code? In reality Sam could've worn a burlap sack and Y/N would still show her off like the best dressed in the room. "No dress code, may I ask what color you feel best in?" "Black" Sam says "So we wear black, got it. 8pm, you and me. I'll be leaving after breakfast to get a little shopping done beforehand and I'll pick you up around 7:15?" Y/N asks peering over at Sam while she begins plating all the food and fruit. When did Sam stock up on fruit? It was on her list but a trip to the market just seemed too grueling. Had Y/N taken care of that for her? "I seen the list on the fridge when I came in last night, had all of it and some extras delivered for you this morning. No need for an unnecessary trip!" She informs the girl standing in shock before her. "Gremlins, your breakfast is ready" Y/N yells and all of them come rushing into the kitchen just like the name she had called them by.

Y/N had cooked and made sure all the dishes were done before her and Y/BF/N left set out to find the perfect outfit for Y/N and Sam's date. "Where are you taking her?" Y/BF/N asks, staring out the window as they rode to the mall. "Sampan" Y/N replies, racking her brain for outfit ideas. She didn't want to over or under-dress and She was sure Sam thought she only had tshirts, cargos, sweats and chef jackets. Y/N wanted to show off how good she looked with Sam, she wanted to compliment her in all the right ways.

"Isn't that the place in Philly, that always has a line? Let me guess my always prepared best friend either made a reservation OR you know the chef. Which is it" Y/BF/N questions, holding out an invisible microphone in her hand. Playing into it Y/N responds "Uh, I'll take. I made a reservation but happen to know the sous chef from school for 1000 please." The both burst into a fit a laughter that reminds Y/N why she was so grateful for her best friend. Pulling up to the mall they brainstormed ideas on what Y/N should wear bouncing between quarter-zips and cardigans to polos and rugby shirts. They found themselves in the fitting room of a Uniqlo jumping up and down having finally found the best outfit for tonight. Y/N had a the perfect pair of filling pieces penny loafers to complete the outfit.

The girls had left the mall around 2:30 which still gave Y/N a bit of time to tie up some loose ends. She dropped her car off for a full service and detail, made sure to have the flowers ready for pick up a block away from Sam's apartment and had began getting ready for her first date with the girl of her dreams.

3hrs 45mins Later, 7:15pm

To Y/N surprise she wasn't nervous about this date at all, maybe that's because she hadn't even laid eyes on Sam yet. She had made it up the stairs to quickly for her liking, trying not to seem as eager as she actually was, Y/N cleared her throat and knocked on the door. After a minute it swung open and she was greeted by Tara who was trying to put on the whole "What are your intentions with my sister act" and in the process she threatened to drag Y/N by the fingernails if she hurt Sam in any way. Which Tara knew wasn't going to happen by the look in Y/N's eyes the moment Sam came into her field of vision.

"Ready?" Sam questions softly, slipping on her heels. Y/N's mouth is suddenly dry, her brain has short circuited and she can't stop her eyes from roaming all over Sam's body, taking her in completely and getting lost in her legs that seemed to go on for miles. She wore a simple black dress, nothing super short but it showed off her legs just the right way, her hair was down in loose curls framing her face perfectly. "Y-Mhm. I--These are for you" Y/N extends her arm out holding the vase of flowers towards Sam. They were already trimmed and in water to save Sam the time of doing a task instead of just reveling in receiving a gift.

(Sam's Outfit Ref.)

"Thank you, they're beautiful Y/N/N and already in a vase. You're so thoughtful." Sam finishes, pressing a kiss to the girls cheek and running off down the hall to put the flowers on her nightstand. As Sam walks back towards Y/N she's able to do her own gawking. If it were up to Sam, she would have Y/N dressed up like this everyday, so put together yet ready to be ruined as soon as Sam gave her the go ahead. This is going to be an interesting night she thought to herself.

(Y/N outfit ref.)

Grabbing Y/N's wrist and pulling her out of the apartment and into the hall. She pressed her up against the wall just next it, placing a searing kiss on Y/N's lips "You look good" She states wiping her lipstick off of Y/N's bottom lip with her thumb. Still standing there trying to push the unholy thoughts about her date out of her mind Y/N stumbled to catch up with Sam who was now almost halfway out of the building. "Let me get that for you" Y/N steps around Sam holding the door open for her to exit, she does the same thing when they get to her car. Sam could get used to this type of treatment, with Y/N it was like everything was always handled and in order but somehow she made sure never felt obligated or pressured within anything that transpired between them. She felt safe with Y/N.

Making sure the directions to the restaurant were set and correct, Y/N double checks everything before finally pulling off and heading to their destination. The ride there was smooth, filled with the playlist Y/N made just for today. Along the way Sam had slipped her hand into Y/N's free one that rested on the center console as she continued driving. Smiling softly to herself when she felt Y/N squeeze her hand in an effort to let the girl know she was still present with her even if they sat a comfortable silence. "We should be there shortly" Y/N says after a moment looking over at Sam who was already looking at her. "Have you ever been to Sampan before?" She questions. Sam shakes her head and chuckles "I've barely been outside of the city, save for when we moved from Woodsboro" She added. "Hmm, we'll have to change that now wont we Sammy" Y/N says sparing another glance at the beautiful girl beside her.

Soon they're pulling up to a restaurant that has a line of people standing outside. Sam is now rethinking her outfit, this wasn’t something she wanted to stand outside in but maybe she'd just have to trust the other girl just this once.

Y/N parked the car and after hopping out and offering a helping hand to Sam, they walked into the restaurant. After a brief conversation and a few greetings Y/n & Sam were lead to a private table in the back of the restaurant. Y/N wanted this to be special for Sam, so she pulled more strings than she mentioned earlier when talking to her best friend. She was able to get in contact with the sous chef at Sampan. His name is Ryder, he was in her culinary program before going full-time in the restaurant. He was more than happy to make the accommodations for Y/N as long as she agreed to share her secret to cooking waygu perfect each time. To Y/N this was a small price to pay to guarantee Sam's comfort.

"I hope this isn't too much, I didn't want to have you bumping shoulders with strangers plus you can see the kitchen from here." Y/N points over in the direction of the kitchen after finishing. Sam's heart swelled at the thought Y/N put behind simply getting a table where she wasn't surround by others or too exposed to be comfortable for her liking instead she made sure they were tucked away in a large round booth just left of the open kitchen and bar. "There's also an exit just behind us, if at any point you'd like to le-" Y/N didn't have a chance to finish her sentence because as she continued to make sure Sam was comfortable, she couldn't help but kiss her square on the mouth in efforts to show her undying appreciation for the thought and detail that had been put into their first date. "Thank you" She says leaning her forehead against Y/N's. Ryder soon approaches the table, greeting both girls and asking what could he get for them and reminding Y/N that whatever they needed or wanted would be taken care of. Y/N orders water for the table and asks whats on the chef's specialized menu for tonight. Without second thought she asks Sam if she'd like to order herself or have her do it. Sam sits back allows Y/N to take control. Shortly after several plates of food are filling the table they sat at, each dish served with it's name and description while being placed down.

Y/N had ordered a 7 Course tasting experience for the two of them allowing Sam to swoon even harder over the younger girl. They talked, shared laughs and sweet kisses while feeding one another and trying not to make something out of nothing but when Y/N is looking at Sam, eyes low and hazy. Taking in every part of her face while telling her how pretty she is. Sam has to fight against her initial response of "Show me how pretty you think I am" and settling for a deep look into Y/N's eyes and whispering "Mmm, You think so?" A coy smile playing on her lips. Y/N is now leaning in eyes dark and hungry, pressing her lips to Sam's cheek for rasping out "I know so" into her ear. Once again the older girls body was set ablaze. She felt Y/N's hand drop to her thigh, now seated back looking at everything going on around her.

She felt her hand tracing shapes on her inner thigh and it was not calming her down especially not when Y/N's hand dropped a bit lower and squeezed, as she smiled over at her. She had to know what she was doing, couldn't she see the way she was making all of Sam's thoughts of taking it slow wither away? Couldn't she feel the heat radiating off of her body? Did she need to spell it out for her? She wanted, no she NEEDED Y/N. She needed her like she needed air and water to live. A soft voice broke Sam out of her thoughts "Come on princess, we're outta here" Y/N says holding out her hand for Sam to take. Allowing herself to be pulled in and tucked into the girls side, Y/N said her goodbyes to the boy who approached them earlier that evening and they made their way out the restaurant and back to Y/N's car. Running around and getting in the car after making sure Sam was all squared away, She put her car in gear and pulled off into the night.

The ride back was harder than sitting in that private booth with Y/N's hand between her legs. Her hand was back in Sam's lap, playing with the bottom hem of her dress as she cruised down the turnpike. In a bold effort to show Y/N she was ready for whatever the girl was willing to give Sam shifted and let her legs fall open a bit more causing Y/N’s fingertips graze her inner thighs. Without looking over at her, she began pushing her hand further up Sam's dress, causing her eyes to flutter shut, and releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Pulling up to a red light on an empty street after exiting the highway, Y/N turned to Sam and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Her left hand made its way between Sam's legs and pressed against her satin covered center. Her panties were ruined. Wrapping her other hand around Sam's throat she quickly took control of the kiss as Sam completely fell apart in the passenger seat. Her mind was so clouded with the way Y/N was kissing her, licking her bottom lip politely asking for entrance into Sam's mouth to which she happily granted. Tongues moving fluidly against one another never fighting for dominance instead falling into a slow and nasty tango. Y/N pulled back noticing they had completely missed the light cycle and it was now yellow, taking off down the road she continued their journey back to Sam's apartment until she felt her leaning over the center console and whispering "Take me home..with you" before placing a single kiss behind her ear and sitting back and staring out the window as she reminisces on the things she learned about Y/N tonight.

Pulling up to Y/N's loft came more quickly then Sam realized, they pulled into the garage and parked Y/N's car and made their way to the elevator. "That's my other car right there" Y/N pointing out while passing what looks like a Honda? Sam wasn't really well versed in cars but she found herself wanting to hear Y/N talk about them while she got lost in the way her lips moved. Stepping into the elevator, Y/N pulls Sam close to her. Once again tucking her into her side, this time placing soft kisses on her shoulder and securing her arm around her waist. "Wanna take a picture" Y/N shyly asks and much to her surprise Sam is pulling her phone out of her purse. Snapping the picture Sam thinks it's perfect as she examines it.

(photo ref.)

Getting off of the elevator and making their way down the hallway to Y/N and Y/BF/N loft, the two girls made small talk and poked fun at each other. "How it is dating someone taller than you but also younger than you Sammy?" Y/N teased, opening the door front and motioning for the older girl to enter first.

Turning on the light and kicking her heels off after Y/N locks the door. Sam turns towards Y/N, they collectively notice how silent the loft is indicating Y/BF/N was probably staying at the Carpenter residence. Searching Sam's eyes for approval Y/N reached out and pulled Sam close and kissed her softly. Falling into another slow kiss, Y/N's hands found their way down to Sam's waist and eventually found her ass softly kneading the soft flesh over her dress. Sam was coming apart at the seams, and they hadn't even made it past the foyer yet. Y/N pulled back and started leading her through the loft and to her room. Closing the door behind them as they entered.

"You can wear this and these! I don't want you sleeping in your dress" Y/N said handing Sam a pair of satin boxers and a tshirt. "Keep the shorts, just the shirt is fine" Sam responds tossing the shorts at Y/N who decides to wear them. Instead of changing, they find themselves tangled in the soft sheets of Y/N's bed. Sam is on top Y/N kissing her like there's no tomorrow, neither of them bothering to come up for air. She could feel how hard Y/N was underneath her pressing against her clit. Y/N gripped her hips and pushed her down as she ground her hips up into Sam with only one thing on her mind.

WARNING: SMUT UNDER THE CUT

"Show me how pretty you think I am" Sam whispers against Y/N's lips. Flipping her over Y/N pressed against Sam with more fever than before. Running her hands over each piece of exposed skin she could get her hands on. Sam's legs opened a little more to accommodate the girl laying between them working her way down her neck, marking her skin for everyone to see and to know who she belonged to. "Oh my god, Y/NNN" Sam moaned pushing the girls head further into her neck. "I need you, ple-" The pleas on her tongue died out and were soon replaced with the prettiest sounds Y/N has ever heard as she wrapped her lips around Sam's nipple while toying with the other eventually switching to give her other nipple the same love and attention. Sitting up and pulling her shirt over her head and reaching out to help Sam do the same, Y/N returned back to Sam's nipples until she was a whining whimpering mess. "Fuck, Sam. Do you feel what you do to me?" Y/N groaned pulling Sam's hand down to her aching cock. "That's all for you, princess" She grunted while drowning in the pleasure that was coming from Sam's hand on her. Kissing down the rest of her body, Y/N settled between Sam's legs, face mere inches away from her pussy. "Is this okay?" She hears the other girl asks and instead of verbally responding Sam simply reaches down and pull her panties to the side. Showing her just how "okay" this is.

Without anymore hesitation Y/N began eating Sam's pussy like it was her last meal. She was devouring the girl whole, like they didn’t just have dinner and dessert. Y/N had an appetite only Sam could seem to sate. Y/N was becoming drunk off the way she tasted and the way she tried to contain her moans yet she kept failing. Y/N moaned into Sam’s pussy, watching the way her eyes rolled back at the sensation. "Look at me" Y/N requested, waiting for the girl beneath her to meet her eyes. Sam probably shouldn't have looked down because the sight she seen was down right dirty. It was now burned into her brain. Y/N’s eyes were dark and predatory, staring back at Sam watching her take everything she gave her. "You taste so good baby" Y/N commented slipping two fingers inside of Sam. "Taking everything I give you so well" She whispers before wrapping her lips around Sam's clit, sucking it softly.

Sam was soaking wet. Surely, she was sure she was making a mess all over Y/N's face and sheets but not really giving a fuck because the way Y/N was sucking on her clit and pumping her fingers in and out of her. She felt like she was going to explode any minute and the heat in her body was rising, the knot in her stomach was about snap and Sam didn't know how to warn Y/N. Throwing her head back and her toes curling, Sam's back arched as her body grew rigid and stars exploded behind her eyes, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Reaching down grabbing at Y/N's hair and tugging she lost herself in the pleasure that took over her body. Y/N continued to fuck Sam through her orgasm allowing the girl consumed in herself ride her fingers and semi-fuck her face. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N " fell from Sam's lips like a prayer nearly making her cum in her pants. Pulling her fingers from the girls heat Y/N trails kisses back up Sam's body, while she was attempting to catch her breath with her arm thrown over her face trying to ground herself. "Everything okay?" Y/N checks, gently pulling Sam's arm down. "Yeah, it was just intense" She responds almost breathless. Pulling Y/N down by her neck, Sam kisses her as they begin moving against one another again sighing together as they fall into a comfortable rhythm.

Sam can taste herself on Y/N's tongue and lips, for whatever reason it turns her on more. The girl above Sam pressed herself back into her, causing her clothed cock to brush up against her bare pussy over her pants. Sam was determined to drive Y/N crazy. Rocking her hips up into Y/N's and smearing her wet pussy all over the front of her slacks, she couldn't help but get worked up again. While still kissing Y/N she reached down to unbuckle her belt, and unzip her pants in the process before shoving her hand down them and grabbing Y/N's cock. Sam could feel the way Y/N pulsed in her hands, she could feel her straining against the soft fabric of her boxers. Slipping her hand into the waistband she pulls the fabric back and lets it slap against Y/N's skin "All for me?" Sam questions looking up at Y/N who doesn't trust her voice enough to respond so she nods in response. "I need words, Y/N" She requests stuffing her hand back down her pants, lightly running her fingertips over the hard appendage feeling it twitch. Removing herself from from hovering over Sam, Y/N stood and took off the rest of the clothes that previously covered her body. Discarding them on the floor, she climbed back on top of and settle between her legs again. Her cock was beautiful just like she was Sam thought. It was weeping for some sort of relief. Reaching down and wrapping her hand around her softly she began to stroke Y/N, her thumb swiping over the tip on each up stroke.

Y/N couldn't take it. She didn't want to be so close to cumming but with the way their date had transpired, the ride home and eating Sam's pussy Y/N was embarrassingly close to cumming in Sam's hand, on her stomach, maybe some would get on her tits Y/N thought. Halting her movements as she felt Y/N subtly fucking her hand, she asked again "All for me?" She almost came when Sam's voice rang out. Learning from her previous mistake fast Y/N used her words "All for you, baby" She says looking into Sam's eyes not for long as hers are rolling back from the feeling of the ministrations on her cock picked back up. "Fuck, Sam. I need to be inside of you. I wanna feel you squeezing me just like you did my fingers" Y/N groans, fucking Sam's hand at little harder now as she hovers over Sam, weight supported by her elbows. Pressing one hand against her stomach she used the other to guide Y/N's cock to her entrance. It was too much for both of them. Y/N slowly pushed in, allowing Sam's heat to engulf her. She would go as slow and be as gentle as Sam needed her to be. The stretch she felt as Y/N bottomed out inside her was indescribable, her pussy clenched so hard Y/N was sure her walls were trying to mold to the shape of her cock. Ruining Sam for anybody else after her.

Peppering kisses all over Sam's face Y/N wanted to make sure Sam knew this was about her. "Let me know when I can move, okay?" She couldn't do anything but nod. "You can move now" Y/N set a slow pace barely pulling out before slowly pushing back in making Sam feel fuller than she ever has. She can feel each stroke in her toes, it makes her knees weak as Y/N pick up her pace and the tip of her cock brushes the mouth of Sam's cervix. "Shit Y/N, I can't I ca-" Sam whimpers out pressing her hand against Y/N's stomach in an attempt to push her away, which was a battle she had no chance at winning especially with the way Y/N was talking her through it. "You can, and you will" She punctuated her sentence with a hard thrust that had Sam drooling. "You're doing so good, baby. You're sucha good girl for me. Aren't you?" Y/N says still fucking Sam into the mattress beneath them, both hands now behind her knees pinning her legs to her chest. The new angle made Sam shriek as Y/N's cock slipped deeper and deeper into her pussy. "Please, Please, Please" She begged looking up at the girl fucking her into oblivion. Sam was cock-drunk and they both knew it. She didn't know what she was asking for but that familiar knot in her stomach began to form and she wanted to let it consume her . She was so close, she just needed a little more. "Isn't this what you wanted? For me to show you how pretty you are. Mmm, Take that shit. It's all for you" Y/N grunted she was now leaning over Sam, letting her chain dangle in Sam's face so closely she could feel the gold tickling her skin. She grabbed it gently and pulled Y/N down to her as she all but sobbed into her mouth "Please let me cum, Y/N please, I need to cum. Let me cum for you" Although Y/N wanted so deny her so badly and make her hold it she knew she couldn't hold out much longer herself. She was biting Y/N shoulder so hard she might've drawn blood but right now main focus was trying to hold her orgasm off as long as possible for some odd reason Sam found herself needing Y/N's approval for release. Changing the angle of her hips as she continued to fuck Sam, she finally gave the girl what she'd been practically begging for all night. "Cum for me Sam, let me feel that sweet pussy squeezing my-" Sam slapped a hand over Y/N's mouth as she cums so hard her ears are ringing. She's calling out Y/N's name like a mantra, legs shaking and arms pulling the girl completely against her to ride out her high. "I have to pull out s-" "No, Please cum inside me. " She begs looking up through her mascara stained lashes, eyes completely black as she clenches around Y/N' cock again. After a few more strokes and Sam declaring her pussy belongs to her. Y/N is burying her face in Sam's neck as she cums. She remains inside of Sam after a while and begins to move off of her, both of them hissing out of sensitivity when Y/N's cock finally leaves the vice grip that is Sam's pussy.

"Don't move" She says as she pulls on her robe and leaving the room. Sam is utterly spent, she has no real reason to move plus she couldn't feel her legs so she would rather lay there anyway. Y/N came back into the room with several items in hand. She handed Sam a water and began cleaning her up with a warm rag once she was done drinking. Holding out the tshirt and shorts she offered sam earlier, she realized that the older girl was already fast asleep. Scooping sam up in her arms Y/N made her way to the guest room down the hall, pulling a shirt and some shorts on to Sam before tucking her in and retreating back to her room to pull on some clothes and put her sheets in the washer. Once all was said and done she made her way back to the guest room where Sam was, slipping in bed and pulling her closer they both fell into a deep sleep.

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AN: Chapter 4 is long as fuck but it was worth it. How do yall like the smut?

Lmk what yall think🕷️

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

First Encounter

Life had a funny way of happening sometimes. One moment you're crying in your best friend's arms, the next his lips are on yours and you're kissing him back like your life depends on it. And then everything comes to a standstill, and a week later neither of you can even look at each other. Over a stupid kiss. And your roommates and friends can feel the tension. See it. So much so that they all have mentioned it.

Quinn sighed, reaching across her bed for her phone. A week of sleeping, or rather not, in her own bed. Just a solid week of staring at the ceiling every night for hours on end. One week of Noah hiding in his room, not answering the door for her. Seven days of his bedroom door staying locked. Of hearing it creak open as she lay in her bed, wide awake, listening as he crept downstairs. An entire week of him avoiding her at all costs. Unanswered texts. Calls going straight to voicemail. No answering her knock on his door. Nobody joining her in the bathroom while she showered. He was just gone. And how was that fair? He had kissed her!

Her text from four hours ago had been read. No response. Just read. All that talk about how she deserved better and one stupid fucking kiss had him completely ghosting her? While she actively lived with him?! The fucking bastard.

Everything in her went cold. Leaving her phone on her bed she carefully climbed out of bed, avoiding the spots on her floor that creaked. He wanted to be a dick? Well, he could deal with the consequences instead of hiding.

With bated breath she tiptoed out of her room and across the hall. Slowly, carefully, she pressed her ear against his bedroom door, listening for signs of life. The faint sound of a movie starting reached her ears and she smiled. Caught him. With no hesitation she knocked, calling his name softly. No answer.

Frustrated she knocked and called his name louder. Still no answer. She knew it would be locked but she had to try anyway. The knob didn't turn. She wished she could blame rage for what she was about to do, but it was just hurt. He was the one person who never left. Never abandoned her. Always reminded her that life was worth living. And now he was acting like she didn't exist? After something he had initiated? That hurt more than anything.

"Noah!" She yelled, banging on his door. "I can fucking hear you! Answer me or I'm kicking the goddamn door down! You don't get to do this, too!"

Nicholas's door creaked open at the end of the hall, followed quickly by Noah yanking his bedroom door open and hauling her inside before he slammed it closed and locked it again. One look at him and she felt somewhat guilty. He looked like he'd barely slept, if at all.

"What the fuck, Quinn?!"

"You're seriously acting like I'm wrong here?! YOU kissed ME. And yes, I kissed you back! What the fuck of it?! It was a kiss, Noah!"

His large hand covered her mouth as he drug her over to his bed. Why in the fuck was he acting so paranoid? Quinn pushed him away, making a show of keeping her mouth shut as she sat on the edge of his bed. He wanted to play? She could play.

"Quinn. People are fucking sleeping. What the fuck?"

Noah dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes pleading with her. For what she didn't know. But she watched as he repeatedly started to reach for her, then draw back. Noah had never been scared of touching her before. This was weird. Even for him.

"Seriously, Noah? You kiss me and then act like I don't exist? After telling me I deserve better? And then you go and act just like them? The fucking audacity!" She was yelling again. She didn't care.

Quinn watched as he drug his on hand down his face, rubbing his mouth. He was frustrated. Good. He deserved to be frustrated after this shit. Who did this over a stupid kiss? It wasn't like it had gone any further and crossed major friendship lines. Was she that fucked up that even a kiss was too much?

"Noah," she begged, her resolve breaking. "You're my best friend. It was just a fucking kiss. Please." Her voice shook, breath coming in short spurts. "I'm sorry I kissed you back? I'm sorry for whatever I did that made you this mad at me. I'm fucking sorry, Noah."

She completely dissolved. Clearly she had done something wrong. But what the fuck had she done?

"Quinn..."

"What did I do, Noah?!"

"Exist."

And then his lips crashed into hers, desperate. Pleading. She couldn't help but respond in kind, her fingers threading through his hair. Pulling him closer and closer still. They were all desperation and teeth and tongues, fighting for dominance. Just two people finally acting on the feelings they had always known were there. Desperate to be as close as possible, yet desperate to just consume each other.

Noah fisted his hand in her hair, the other gently caressing her cheek, his thumb resting just on the corner of her lips as he tugged, tipping her head back, gaining more access as her lips parted on a soft gasp. His tongue delved into her mouth, hungry, but gentle. Tasting every part of her. Memorizing every movement that made her moan. His free hand traveled slowly south, fingertips tracing over her throat, over her collarbone, hesitating at the swell of her breast.

Quinn tore her mouth from his, frustrated. Here he was, finally touching her, and he was stopping?

"Noah. I swear to fucking God," she pleaded.

"What do you want, baby?"

His eyes locked on hers and she saw everything there. Everything he had been fighting the last week. All the things he had been avoiding. This moment here. He wanted her. And he wanted her desperately. Just as much as she wanted him.

"Touch me," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

He broke then, his mouth attacking her throat, biting and licking and sucking. And she was helpless against him. They tumbled back on the bed together, pressure already building deep within her. His free hand quickly slid down, much further down than she anticipated or needed, resting on her bare inner thigh. His fingertips danced across her skin, tracing lazy patterns.

"Noah," she begged, pressing her body against his, feeling herself grow impossibly wetter by the second.

He didn't make her beg anymore. Deft fingers shoved her panties aside, a single digit rubbing lazy circles on her clit. The pressure deep inside her quickly turned into a tight band, ready to snap. She was so close already that she nearly panicked. It had never been this intense before, and he wasn't even inside her yet.

"Fuck," he groaned, slipping a single finger inside her. "You're so fucking wet. Jesus Christ, Quinn."

Everything was on fire. Her skin. Her lungs. One of those long fingers she'd admired for years was deep inside her, stroking her in just the right spot as it pumped in and out of her. And just when she thought it couldn't get any better he slipped another finger inside her, and she swore she blacked out for a second as he curled his fingers inside of her, applying more pressure to that spot deep inside her, his palm rubbing against her clit as he worked her with his fingers.

"You're close, aren't you?"

All she could do was moan desperately in response, her hips writhing against his hand. That band was growing tighter and tighter, and she was desperate for release from the pressure low in her belly. His forehead dropped to hers, holding her gaze, his pupils blown so wide with lust his eyes almost appeared black.

"Noah!" she called out his name as that band snapped, her hips stuttering as she clamped down around his fingers, her orgasm tearing through her.

"That's it, baby. There you go. That's my girl," he praised as her orgasm peaked, talking her through it, his fingers still pumping in and out of her, massaging her through it.

Dazed she watched as he pulled his fingers out of her, bringing them up to his lips. She watched, her heart leaping out of her chest as he sucked every drop of her off his fingers, eyes never leaving hers.

"Goddamn it, Quinn. You taste even better than I imagined."

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[wandering-winchesters]

Bad Feeling

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 3,570 Summary: The reader has a bad feeling about a hunt, the boys ignore it and she gets hurt. Trigger warning: swearing, mentions of blood and injury.

Masterlist A/N: Requests are open, please let me know what you think of this!

I am awoken by a knock at my door, I open my eyes, squinting at the harsh light flowing through the window in my room. It takes me a second to understand where I am, the unfamiliar room catching me off guard, before I recognize it as the motel room I had crashed in late last night. 

“Who is it?” I call out, sleep hanging heavy in my voice. I sit up in the bed, throwing the sheets and blanket to the side. 

“Your favorite hunter.” The voice on the other side of the door calls back, I roll my eyes and cross the room to open the door to reveal a grinning Dean Winchester. 

“Oh, you’re not Bobby.” I say, a mischievous smile on my lips. Dean looks taken aback, his grin faltering slightly.

“Ouch, sweetheart, that was mean.” He says, developing a pouty expression. I step back and allow him to walk into the room, closing the door behind him.

“What do you need Dean?” I ask, a yawn forcing its way to fruition, I stretch, raising my arms up over my head and a slight groan escapes my lips. I shake my head, trying to shake off the fog that is left behind from the remnants of sleep.

“Wanted to see if you wanted to grab breakfast before we head off towards the next hunt. But now that I am here, it might be better if I bring you breakfast.” He says, his eyes crinkling from the smile forming on his face as he surveys the sleepy mess that I am currently. My hair is thrown up in the messiest of buns, strands hanging down around my face and shoulders, having come loose in my sleep. A large oversized shirt adorns my body, sleep shorts too short to be seen underneath. I roll my eyes and push him gently, he dramatically takes a few steps back, rubbing his arm where I had shoved him, acting as if I had severely hurt him.

“Yeah, we can go get breakfast, I just need a few to shower and get dressed. Where’s Sam?” I ask, walking to my duffle bag and pulling out a change of clothes.

“He’s out already, went to the local library to dig for some death records.” Dean says, sighing loudly at the prospect of what he calls boring research.

“Oh he should have woken me up, I would’ve gone with him.” I say, walking into the bathroom but leaving the door propped open so I could still hear him. I pull off my shirt and shorts, turning the shower water on.

“I told him not to, wanted to let you get some sleep. I know you haven’t been sleeping well recently.” Dean says, and I can hear him shuffling around in my room. I wait for him to stop moving around and I stick my head out into my room, hiding my body behind the bathroom door.

“Hey, fucker. Stay out of my snacks!” I yell, glaring at him. He had seen the corner of a bag of chips sticking out of my bag and had helped himself. He turns around, caught red handed. But instead of looking apologetic or sheepish, he smirks. His eyes boring a hole through the door, even though all he can see is my collarbones and up. “Why don’t you come here and make me.” He grins, winking at me in the most painfully exaggerated way possible.

“You wish.” I roll my eyes, and slam the bathroom door. I can hear him laughing for quite a few minutes after I had shut the door. I smile to myself, shaking my head at his childish behavior. I love it though, I wouldn’t trade my friendship with him for anything in this world.

I quickly shower and dry off, throwing on the clothes that I had already picked out and brought into the bathroom with me. When I open the door, Dean is sitting on the end of my bed, flipping through a magazine that he must’ve brought with him. I don’t dare ask what magazine, because I honestly don’t want to know. I walk over to my bag and pull out my gun, checking to ensure it was fully loaded and I holster it. Before tucking the holster into the front of my waistband, pulling my sweatshirt down over it, successfully concealing it. I look up at him, and he is watching my every move. I look down, checking my appearance once more. Black skinny jeans, and a black hoodie, my staples, comfy but not frumpy, the only fashion sense I live by.

“What?” I ask him, after I ensure that there isn’t anything wrong with what I am wearing. He shakes his head, jumping up from the end of the bed. Weird, normally he didn’t have any issue expressing what he was thinking, flirtatious comments common, coming from him.

“Lets go get breakfast! Sam is going to meet us there.” He says instead, leading the way to the impala. I shake my head and follow after him, pulling a jacket over my hoodie and bracing for the cold air as we leave. I climb in the passenger seat, shivering slightly and Dean notices. He turns the heat up in the car, shooting me an apologetic glance. “I should’ve come out and started the car, sorry sweetheart.” He says, backing out of the spot and heading to a local diner. The short drive passes quickly, the car barely getting warm by the time we arrive.

We walk inside quickly, Dean holding the door open for me to walk ahead of him. I look around and see Sam sitting in a booth, and walk in his direction, Dean following right behind me. I slide into the booth, sitting opposite from Sam and Dean sits next to me.

“What’ve we got Sammy?” Dean asks, his expression serious a stark contrast to his behavior in the motel room. As Sam explains about the spirit that has been killing people in town and who he thinks it might be, a feeling of unease settles over me. I cannot put my finger on what he said that triggered this response, or why. My thoughts must have been written across my face in permanent marker, because Dean snaps me out of my thoughts by placing a hand on my thigh, squeezing gently.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks, but he is interrupted by the server coming over and taking our order. We all order different combinations of the same thing, food and coffee.

Once she leaves, Dean once again turns his attention to me, repeating his earlier questions. I shrug, tucking my hair behind my ear, debating on if I want to be honest or just brush off the feeling that is still settled heavily in my gut. I choose the former.

“I just have a bad feeling about this hunt, I can’t really put my finger on why. But as soon as Sammy started talking about what he found, this just bad feeling settled over me.” I explain, realizing just how crazy it must sound. Sam nods, his gaze meeting my own. Dean laughs it off, stating that I must just be hungry. I inwardly agree with him, and spend all of breakfast trying to shake off this feeling. After we are done eating, we head out to the impala. Approaching the old abandoned farm house, where the dead bodies have been found over the last couple of weeks. All of them dying under mysterious and unexplainable circumstances. Dean had met with the local sheriffs office yesterday and they were all stumped, convinced that a serial killer had taken up residence in the area. However, the lore that Sam had uncovered showed that every thirty years, in January this kind of thing happened. People left their houses in the middle of the night, walked to this farm house and were found dead the next day. Sam thinks it is an angry spirit, however there were multiple people that it could be. They hoped to narrow it down by visiting the house and looking around. We split up upon entry to the house, much to my dismay. However, this was the way we normally handled cases like this. Cover as much ground as possible, in as little time as we could. We stayed within shouting distance, that way if something went wrong or if there was a discovery, the others could hear you.

This is how I wound up, in the kitchen alone. I hadn’t found anything worth mentioning, but continued to look around anyways. “Guys, in here!” I hear Dean yell, and I quickly turn to locate where he was. Sam and I met him in the dilapidated room that probably used to be a study. He’s holding a well worn leather book, his eyes scanning the page.

“Looks like we’re dealing with an angry ghost of this Marla Johnson.” He says, pointing to the section of the page. “I found her daughters diary, and she says that her mother died suddenly and everyone in town suspected her father of being the murderer. Now to find out where she was buried.” A rush of cool air draws my attention and my eyes focus on the woman suddenly standing behind Dean, my eyes widening and I yell to warn them of her appearance. Dean jumps into action, pulling me behind him and readying the shotgun loaded with rock salt rounds. Just as quickly as she appeared, she’s gone. The temperature in the room returning to what it was before.

“Alright, Y/N, I am gonna go look around outside for a grave sight and see what I can find. You and Sam stay here and try to hold her off.” Dean says, handing me his shotgun. Sam and I exchange glances, before heading off to different rooms in the house. It is in that moment, that the bad feeling returns. A pit forming in my stomach, heavy and foreboding. I try to push it to the back of my mind, creeping back towards the kitchen where I had been before. My eyes sweep the room, before freezing in place when I look into the window over the kitchen sink and see her in the reflection, standing directly behind me. I steel my nerves and whip around, holding the shotgun up and aiming it at her. I’m not fast enough, she sends a knife flying through the air and it lands firmly in my thigh. I yell out, quickly pulling the trigger and watching her dissolve into mist. Not gone, but displaced for the time being. I hear Sam yell my name, but I don’t have the nerve to respond. Concerned that any sound will draw her back to me. I cycle the shotgun, reloading another shell, bracing for her reappearance. I brace myself in the corner of the kitchen, my back to the wall, leaning heavily against it in order to keep as much weight off my injured leg as I can. This position also giving me the visual advantage, I am able to see both doorways into the kitchen. I hear footsteps coming and I keep the shotgun braced against my shoulder, but lowered, so I won’t be pointing it directly at Sam or Dean when they enter the room. Sam rounds the corner, his eyes wide, the light coming in through the cobweb covered windows, highlight the concern on his face.

“Are you alright? I heard you scream.” He says, lowering his own weapon and walking closer to where I am standing. I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the sleeve of my hoodie, and gesture towards my thigh.

“Ive been better.” I mutter, gritting my teeth as I shift my weight slightly, all of the nerves and muscles in my leg screaming at me as I move. Sam’s face falls, he slings the shotgun over his shoulder and walks over to me. He quickly takes his belt off and secures it around my upper thigh, as high as he can and as tight as he can. He throws my arm over his shoulder and I wrap my own around his back, accepting his help fully.

“Lets get you out of here.” He says and we begin the awkward shuffle towards the front door, every step causing another swear to slip through my lips. He mumbles apologies as we go, supporting most of my body weight as I hop next to him. As we cross the threshold of the house, Dean comes around the corner, a grin on his lips.

“Marla, the bloodthirsty ghost has been salted and burned. We’re good to go, who’s-“ He stops suddenly, seeing the way that Sam is half carrying half dragging me out of the house. He breaks into a run, crossing the distance as quickly as he can.

“What happened?” He asks, handing my shotgun to Sam and picking me up, an arm under my knees the other behind my back, I bite my tongue to avoid calling him quite a few choice words as he jostles the blade in my thigh. I grumble, something about being able to walk and he silences me with a look.

“Ghosty bitch there, decided to impale me as her last act of vengeance. I told you I had a bad feeling about this hunt.” I say, reluctantly allowing my head to rest against his shoulder, the adrenaline wearing off and exhaustion setting in.

He carries me over to the impala, where Sam has already opened the back door for him. He sets me down, and pulls his knife from his back pocket, cutting the fabric to my jeans before I can even protest, he pulls the length of fabric away from my skin and begins to inspect the damage.

“These were my favorite jeans.” I mumble sadly, glancing down at the blood stained tattered mess that they had become.

“I will buy you more jeans, Y/N. I am more worried about you bleeding out on me here.” He says, concern written plainly across his face. Once he decides that I am not going to bleed out and it can wait until were back at the hotel to stitch up. He tosses the keys to Sam and climbs into the back of the impala with me. He pulls me against his chest, making sure I keep my leg propped up on the seat, his flannel torn to shreds and wrapped around the knife meticulously. I’ll give him this, he’s pretty good at improvised medicine. On the drive back he pesters me with questions about what happened after he went outside.

“Dean, I am not telling you this story for the third goddamn time.” I grit out between clenched teeth, “I just want to take a nap.” I whine, trying to close my eyes and snuggle into him further.

“And that’s what you’re not going to do, you gotta stay awake. We’re almost back at the motel sweetheart.” He says, shaking me slightly, not enough to aggravate my wound but enough to keep me awake. I curse him out, using the most colorful combination I can think of. He shakes his head, a light laugh escaping him. Sam parks the impala out front of the motel room, Dean leans me against the seat so he can climb out, and I scoot myself over to the door, preparing to climb out on my own.

“Hey! Stay put.” He orders, his tone taking me by surprise. He walks around to the other side of the car, gently pulling me to my feet, before once again picking me up and carrying me inside. I don’t complain this time, honestly too tired to care. Instead of going to my motel room, he walks into the one that he shared with Sam the night before, setting me down gently on the bed, propping me up with a couple of pillows. I try to ignore the throbbing in my thigh and focus on the wound itself. I lean forward, pulling the strips of his flannel away and looking at it closer. Thankfully, the knife she had thrown was relatively short, only about three inches long, the blade about 1 inch wide at the handle. It still hurt like an absolute bitch. Dean pulls a chair up to the side of the bed, and sits down in it. His hand coming to brush my own away and he hands me a bottle of whiskey.

“Drink, you’ll need it.” He says, the look he gives me full of sympathy. Apologizing in advance for what he was about to do. I take a couple of sips of the dark liquid, trying to ignore the burning sensation as it goes down.

“This is gonna hurt sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He says, gripping the knife firmly in one hand, the other bracing against my thigh. He counts down from five, and I try to relax my body as much as I can, resting my head back on the pillows he had propped me up on and taking a few deep breaths. He doesn’t wait until one however, and pulls the blade straight out on 3.

“Mother fucker.” I hiss, my hands reaching up and grabbing fistfuls of my own hair. He pours alcohol over my thigh, causing another strand of colorful language. Thankfully the blade had missed any major arteries and stitches should be enough to stop the bleeding. He sets to work, trying to be as gentle as he can be.

“Next time I have a bad feeling, I’m doing the salt and burn. You can get stabbed in the leg.” I mutter, looking down at Dean as he works on my leg, he should only have a couple of stitches to go now. He laughs softly, tying another knot with the filament he’s been using.

“You’re right sweetheart. I’ll listen next time.” He finished the stitches, covering my leg in a bandage and offering me the bottle of whiskey again. I take another sip, hoping to take the edge off of my pain. Sam had offered to stay in my room that night, so I could stay in here with Dean. He had brought all of my stuff in here, ignoring my every protest. I didn’t really mind, having an evening alone with the older Winchester sounded like a good way to end this shitty day. I love Sam, don’t get me wrong, but Dean and I are closer, we have more in common.

Dean had finished washing his hands in the bathroom and had come back out and sat down next to me.

“Dean, I hate to be a pain, but could you help me change clothes? I smell like moth balls, salt and blood.” I ask, throwing him my best puppy dog eyes and pout. He agrees and grabs a pair of sweatpants from my bag. He looks for a shirt, but quickly gives up when he can’t find one of mine. He grabs one of his own from his bag and crosses to the side of the bed. I slide my hips to the edge of the bed, pulling my jeans down as far as I can without standing. He helps me stand, pulls them off the rest of the way and helps me gently side on the clean sweatpants. He helps me sit back down, and hands me his shirt to wear. I happily shed my dirty one and slip on his. Secretly relishing in the idea of wearing his clothes.

“I’m going to take a quick shower, you’ll stay put in that bed, or so help me.” He says, closing the door to the bathroom. I roll my eyes, but happily oblige. I lay back on his bed, taking in his scent and the warmth that his shirt provides. I’m quickly lulled into a light sleep, the kind where you can still hear everything around you, but it’s restful all the same. I hear him come out of the bathroom, sometime later humming along to whatever song was playing in his mind. He stops when he realizes I’m sleeping and pulls a blanket off the other bed, laying it gently on top of me. He kisses me on my forehead and the next thing he does catches me completely off guard.

“I love you, Y/N, hopefully one day I can say it to you when you’re awake. I’m so sorry you got hurt today.” His words whispered and quiet, he presses another kiss to my forehead and I hear him start to walk away.

“Dean?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper myself, sleep holding me tight in its grasp.

“Yeah, Y/N?” He asks, his tone slightly anxious.

“Nap with me?” Those three words, would change everything. I just didn’t know it yet.

He hums in agreement, coming to lay next to me opening his arms for me to come closer. I snuggle in against him, resting my head on his chest and carefully positioning my leg so I’m comfortable. We lay in silence for awhile, sleep on the horizon but still at bay. Right before I doze off, I press a kiss to his chest and repeat the words he had said to me just a little while earlier.

“I love you, Dean.”

[nochukoo97]

boyfriend drabbles (pt.22)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: the one where you and jungkook get into a petty argument

word count: 1.1k+

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

You’re currently sobbing in a toilet cubicle, the argument you and Jungkook previously had replaying back in your mind.

It wasn’t even a serious argument to begin with, but maybe because of your period causing you to be more petty, and Jungkook’s exhaustion from work, both of you ended up nearly yelling at each other over a plate of food.

-

“Baby you can just ask for a new one, I’ll help you tell them,” He reaches out for the plate of pasta, the waiter having given you the wrong order.

Instead you frown and pull the plate closer to you, shaking your head as you quickly tell Jungkook, “It’s fine, I can eat this too, they just made a small mistake,”

Jungkook doesn’t take this too well, he wanted the best for you, he wanted you to get what you ordered, not having to resort to a mistake that the waiter had made.

“No, it’s not fine,” He raises his hand immediately, catching the eye of the waitress nearby.

Before you can stop your boyfriend, he hands the plate to the waitress who sincerely apologises for the mistake and tells you both that she will be back with the right order.

“Jungkook, why did you do that?” You’re furrowing your brows, frustrated at the fact that he had now caused an extra trouble to the already busy waiters when you could have been eating what was given.

“Baby if we ordered that dish, you should get that dish, it’s literally their job and a small mistake won’t hurt them,” He takes a sip of the wine next to him, he doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on succumbing to whatever was given to you.

“But I already said it was fine, I was okay with eating the pasta so why did you have to call them?” You sigh, rubbing at your temple to soothe the incoming headache.

“Okay, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you’re being so petty about this, it’s our date night and I don’t want it to be ruined,” He acknowledges the waitress that brings the right dish and serves it to you with a nod.

“Hah, are you being serious right now?” You scoff, “I’m the one being petty and ruining our date when you literally could not just let me eat the pasta? It wasn’t like I was upset at it, I could have just ate it,”

At this point there was nothing but tension in the air, you definitely did not want to let your date with Jungkook become like this, especially after not being able to see him for a week due to his promotions in America.

“___, are you hearing yourself right now? I just wanted to let you relax tonight and eat what you wanted. I know you were okay with the pasta but why can’t I just make things right for you?” Jungkook’s eyes are boring into yours, his veins prominent on his hands from how hard he was clutching onto the fork.

“You know what? I can’t believe we’re even arguing about this right now,” You push your chair out and walk away from Jungkook who sat wide-eyed in his chair, watching you walk to the women’s bathroom.

-

That’s how you burst into tears right after shutting the door behind you, resorting to hiding in this cramped cubicle and bawling your eyes out.

You began to think back on the whole fight, regretting your actions and words and causing tension tonight when it was supposed to be a fun and relaxing date for the both of you.

As you open the cubicle door, you’re faced with your reflection in the mirror, eyes bloodshot and nose red from all the sobbing. You hurriedly splash water on your face and blink back the oncoming tears before carefully exiting the bathroom, looking for the man who you had last seen sitting in shock at your table.

However, the table was now empty of your boyfriend, he was nowhere to be seen. But your plate and his half finished food was still on the table, the wine glasses both half drunk.

You sit back down on your chair, staring at the empty seat across from you. He couldn’t have gone home just like that could he? He wouldn’t leave you here and let you go home alone with no car late at night right?

There’s a tear that rolls down your cheek, you let it be, not wiping it away. Instead you begin eating the rice bowl that you had originally ordered, the bowl that had started this whole fight.

It takes you by surprise when Jungkook appears out of nowhere, sliding into the seat across from you with an apologetic expression. A glint of worry flashes across his eyes as he sees another tear roll down, to which you quickly swipe away.

Jungkook sees your bloodshot eyes, your red nose, an indicator you had been more than just crying. He curses at himself under his breath for letting his girlfriend cry this bad, all on her own.

“Baby, you know you don’t have to hide your tears from me right?” He breaks the silence and tension in the air, stroking your cheek and swiping away the other tear that comes rolling down.

“Thought you left me when I came back and you weren’t here,” You hiccup in between sniffles, not daring to look up at his face.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, he uses his finger to lift your head to meet his gaze.

“You know I’ll never leave you here like that,”

You nod, looking at his concerned face through glassy eyes.

“I’m sorry, now that I thought about it, I was being petty for no reason, I feel bad for being so grouchy now,” You pout as you lean your head on his extended hand.

“It’s my fault too, I’m sorry, I guess we shouldn’t have taken it so far,” He strokes his thumb over your lip, fondly smiling at you.

“But where did you go just now?” Jungkook lights up at your question, reaching below the table to reveal a bouquet of flowers.

“Wanted to get you an apology gift,” He smiles at you, and you can’t help but smile back.

Your eyes widen at the bouquet, the red roses wrapped in colourful paper, he hands it over to you as you gladly take it.

“Thank you Kook,” Your eyes are tearing up again, and Jungkook sends you a teasing glare,

“Hey, don’t cry again or I’ll have to run back to the shop fifteen minutes away to grab you another bouquet,”