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pellucid-constellations · 4 months ago

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Trial and Error (5)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Illness, angst babyyy <3

a/n: I'm going insane and crazy and every iteration of that. I love writing this fic so much I want it tattooed on my forehead. Thanks, love you all <3

Main Masterlist ♡

You were in and out of sleep for the next few days—much to your displeasure.

After attempting to down all the herbal remedies Azriel’s healer had left and continuing to care for your daughter without missing a beat, Azriel had made it clear that that would not fly. You told him several times to go home and not burden himself with caring for the two of you, but he was entirely too stubborn to listen to you.

You even watched as his shadows left and returned with messages for him, sure that his High Lord was calling him home.

But Azriel still stayed.

He made food, he served the food, and he fed Melanie, coaxing her delirious eyes open to make sure she took medicine at the right times. You weren’t completely incapacitated, but it didn’t matter; Azriel wouldn’t allow you to lift a finger.

He answered the door to the apothecary several times, sending away customers after collecting payments and restocking shelves, somehow privy to the knowledge of the store. You weren’t entirely confident that he wasn’t overcharging everyone or putting things in random places.

A few times, when sleep fought for the space in your mind, you felt fingers in your hair, along your face, across your shoulders. Each brush would send you deeper into the void you avoided so adamantly, and you were ignoring the fact that you had never felt safe enough to fall asleep in front of other people until now.

You caught Azriel holding Melanie on a few occasions.

You would crack an eye open after an unexpected bout of sleep and he’d be rocking her in his arms, bouncing her to sleep as she lay her flushed face on his shoulder.

Azriel had never told you if he had experience with children. Sure, he mentioned his closeness with Nyx and how much he loved his nephew, but that was… different from this. The ease with which he held Melanie, the instinct he seemed to have towards her—it felt different. Looked different.

You felt an unexplainable sense of safety as you watched them.

Melanie would pull back from his shoulder and arrange her fingers on the planes of Azriel’s cheeks and he would smile at her. And you felt safe.

You found more energy on the third day of the fever.

You got out of bed and took some semblance of a bath, fumbling around in the bathroom without much coordination. Your head was still fuzzy and an ache still permeated deep within your muscles, but the feeling was lessened.

It wasn’t until after your bath that you realized you hadn’t checked on Melanie the moment you woke up.

You hadn’t shot out of bed and raced to her room as you had done almost every morning since she was born.

You hadn’t feared that she was somehow taken from your home, from your arms—that she was in danger of being ripped from your grasp and sent back to Autumn to live out the same cruel fate you were destined for.

A small voice in the back of your mind offered a gentle whisper, reminding you that it was because of Azriel that you found that brief moment of peace.

You pushed it back.

With a shiver, you made your way down the narrow hallway to your daughter’s bedroom.

Empty.

You felt your heart rate tick up in a small bout of panic, but you were calmed by a fluttering in your chest just as quickly. The light pressure led you into the kitchen and then flushed into a warm bloom as the scene in front of you unfolded.

Melanie was bundled up in a blanket and sat atop the kitchen counter as Azriel whisked the contents of a bowl. She was talking her head off about something that happened at school and Azriel was nodding his head with each exasperated huff she let out. Another glance told you that Melanie had eaten an entire plate of food before you’d entered, a feat in itself as your daughter hardly ate to begin with—let alone when she was sick.

“Mommy!” Melanie cheered, wrapping her arms around your neck as you entered the quaint kitchen. “I thought you were gonna sleep forever. I wanted to wake you up but Mr. Azriel said you had to sleep to get better so he made me lunch.”

“Lunch, huh?” you smiled, gathering her into your arms and sliding her off the counter.

“Uh-huh. You slept through breakfast and lunch. Aren’t you hungry, mommy?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“Well, you should have Mr. Azriel’s pancakes.” Melanie yawned. Her blinks became longer. “They’re so good, mommy. He should live with us and make them all the time.”

From the stove, you heard Azriel breathe out a laugh. You glanced at him through your lashes as you held Melanie in your arms, the broad expanse of his wings barely contained in the kitchen. The shirt he wore strained against his arms as he shifted a pan on the burner and he didn’t look back as the two of you spoke.

“I think I need a nap,” Melanie proclaimed, rubbing at her heavy eyes. “I thought I was a big girl at school now and didn’t need to take naps. You told me that, mommy.”

You tore your gaze from Azriel’s back and offered your daughter a soft smile. “Well, you need rest to get better, too. So it’s okay for you to take naps right now.”

“I don’t like having hot blood. This is so annoying.”

You jutted your head back at her statement and made to have her explain, but Melanie shimmied from your arms and scampered off to her room before you could make a sound, her blanket dragging behind her.

That left you alone with Azriel.

“Hot blood?” you asked, leaning against the counter and attempting to appear casual in your own home. It was still surreal that he was up here—making pancakes in your kitchen—when just a few days ago, you never would have let him get past the stairs.

Azriel hummed and flicked the burner off, leaning his back on a nearby counter to face you. “I think she heard what Madja said when she was explaining what was wrong with you both. Mel’s been calling it hot blood. I didn’t—I didn’t think it was my place to correct her.”

You pressed your lips into a line and rubbed your forearm in some attempt of comfort. “Right.” A long pause. Azriel didn’t press you to speak. You did anyway to fill the dead air. “You really didn’t have to stay for as long as you did. I know this place isn’t what you’re used to and it must have been a handful with Mel—”

“I wanted to stay,” Azriel interrupted. He stepped forward and placed a hand on your forehead, ignoring the tension you felt weighing on your shoulders. “You’re still warm.”

“I feel a lot better. Almost completely fine. It would be okay… if you had somewhere to go. If you had to leave, I mean.”

The hand on your forehead slid down to your chin and tilted your face up. Azriel’s gaze flickered between your eyes—back and forth with a furrowed brow as if trying to parse out a deeper meaning behind your words or solve a puzzle you hadn’t presented. His hand was hot against your chin in a way it wasn’t against your forehead.

“You should eat,” he settled on. He brushed your still-damp hair back from your face before turning on his heel. “Mel was right. I make great pancakes and you haven’t eaten in a while. Lucky for you she didn’t finish all of them. She was close, but there are a few left.”

You let him fuss, watched him as he rooted around the cupboards to pull out a plate and a glass, and tried to figure this out now that you were more coherent.

Azriel had stayed—for almost three days he had stayed at your apartment and cared for you and your daughter as if it was expected. Each time you had woken up he had been there, coaxing water and bone-dry broth into your mouth before helping you see Melanie and then helping you to fall back to sleep. He had held your daughter and made her pancakes and he was still here.

Could this somehow be nefarious? Some ploy to get close to you just to use you as a bargaining chip and send you back home? Had the High Lord demanded that his Spymaster keep a close eye on you and this was the outcome?

No.

No, that couldn’t be the reason Azriel was setting a plate down on the counter beside you. That couldn’t be why he caught your eye with a worried gaze and seemed to pinpoint your inner turmoil almost instantly.

But why?

His visits over the past few weeks had been welcomed—confusing at first, but a welcomed break from the mundane, anxiety-fueled life you lived. You had grown comfortable with him and Melanie had begun asking for him when she showed you her art projects or had questions about the walks of life. You had come to expect his presence in your store and found yourself looking forward to the chance to see him outside of Melanie’s school.

But what could he possibly have to gain from making himself a constant in your life?

You had asked before, a single question with a simple “Why not?” for a response that you had brushed off. Because it wasn’t too much of a big deal for him to stop by or help you lift the apothecary boxes or let Melanie talk his ear off.

But this was a big deal.

It was a big deal when he sat beside you until you fell asleep and it was a big deal that he was still standing here now, inches from you, eyes boring into yours.

“Why are you doing this, Azriel?”

Your question seemed to suck all of the air from the room. Azriel winced to such an infinitesimal degree you almost missed it. His fingers twitched as they rested on the counter. The plate of food sat forgotten, its intended distraction wasted.

“I’ve already said.”

You shook your head. “‘Why not’ was okay when you were stopping by the apothecary a few times a week and flirting with me for fun. It was okay when you were saving me from nosey teachers and opening doors when my hands were full. It was okay when this—” you jabbed your finger between your chest and his “—didn’t involve you in my apartment holding my daughter until she fell asleep. I need more than why not, Azriel. I need to understand if… if…”

“What?” he whispered so close the air between you warmed.

When had he gotten so close?

“I need to know if this isn’t safe. If there’s some other reason for all of this.”

This time, when Azriel winced, he flinched. His body seemed to stun and his face twisted into a frown etched with such an uncomfortable pain it was difficult to look at.

He spoke as his head shook. “I’ve told you this isn’t… I want you to feel safe with me. I thought I would have proved that was possible after this.”

“You have,” you were quick to reply. “I wouldn’t have been able to take care of Mel if you hadn’t been here. But, that’s the thing. I don’t even know how you knew to come here. You walked in asking if I was okay—asking where Melanie was. I know your shadows spy, but why, Azriel? Why take such an interest in me? In us?”

“Is it not enough to just want to know you?” he asked, his words tight and pained.

“No. For others, maybe. But not… not after everything I’ve been through. Not when everything I have could be ripped away. I need a reason, Azriel. I can’t let this happen without one. I can’t put Melanie in danger.”

“I don’t understand,” Azriel pleaded. He got closer, wrenching his head down to find your eyes. “Help me to understand. What danger are you in? I can explain, but I can’t protect you without knowing.”

You let out an exasperated scoff, tugging at your hair and regretting the action as a headache bloomed. You took a step back until your back met the kitchen wall.

“You can’t protect me, Azriel. You can’t.”

“I could if you—”

“It doesn’t make sense that you want to! You work for the High Lord. You spy for him! Do you have any idea what any of that means in the grand scheme of things? What it could mean if someone found out that the Night Court’s Spymaster was suddenly asking around about someone from Autumn?”

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, confusion marring his features, but you were breathing faster, the fever and the panic combining beneath your skin.

“I have stayed hidden for five years—five. I shouldn’t have sent Melanie to school. I shouldn’t have asked for help from anyone. If… if someone finds me—”

“No one will find you. Hey—hey.” Azriel invaded your space, your back against the wall and his hands against your face. His eyes softened as they caught yours. “No one is going to find you. You need a reason why I want to be here with you? Why I care about you and Mel?”

Your jaw quivered under his fingers. You nodded in place of speech, unable to find words that wouldn’t make tears fall down your cheeks.

Azriel stared back at you with so much torture and conflict in his eyes you almost wanted to take back the request. He took several breaths and seemed unsure of his next words. But he held your face in his hands with such surety, strong fingers unshaken.

The Shadowsinger brought you forward with the guide of his palms until his lips met your forehead.

And then he pulled back and said, “You are my mate. I want to keep you safe—to protect you and Melanie—because you are my mate. You are what I’ve been waiting for for hundreds of years and if you want nothing to do with me after this, that’s fine. But if you’ll have me, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

part 6

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #acotar #acotar fanfiction

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emmyrosee · 1 year ago

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Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.

It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.

You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.

Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.

You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.

It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.

He doesn’t like that feeling.

But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.

And you haven’t given him one in days.

He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant,

“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”

He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.

As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.

He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.

He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.

When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.

“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.

With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.

“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”

He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.

There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.

“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”

That. That, he could get used to.

He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.

But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.

“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.

Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.

You call him your man.

Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.

And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.

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wonryllis · 10 months ago

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☆ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN COMING HOME TO FIND YOU ASLEEP.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen in whipped era 𖥔 ݁ fluff, soft soft softtt LIB? fem!reader word count `719 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he knows you stay up late waiting for him, this time he finds your figure laid against the soft cushion in a weirdly adorable position. heeseung quietly tiptoes to have a closer look, taking his time to admire your sleeping face. oh he so wishes to keep coming home to you like this. he'd sit beside you and tell you things he could never have said to your face, his deepest thoughts. apologizing for things he could've done better and thanking you for being with him and loving him.

i think i will love you forever, i want to.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so used to it, at least he thinks he's so used to it but everytime he comes home to find you passed out on the couch, or on the carpet slightly lolling to the side the book in your hands almost falling off, he feels the same butterflies he did when it first happened. if you aren't in your pajamas already, best believe he'll change you himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep and put you to bed like magic fairy. he'll join you in later, and if you accidentally stir awake he'll put you back to sleep.

shh, go back to sleep love, i'm right here.

𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 this guy has a field trip range of emotions upon seeing you asleep after a long day of work. he feels this fuzzy and warm feeling watching the one he loves sleep so peacefully, and on the other hand he's so excited to just join you. if you're on the couch he'll squeeze himself in whatever space he finds and cuddle you into the morning and if you're on the bed, he'll leech onto you leaving more than half the mattress empty while he snuggles into his baby on your side of the bed.

mmm, love having you in my arms like this

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 outwardly he's so nonchalant at first, just coming up to your passed out figure and picking you up to get you to the bed, a smile on the tip of his lips. however the moment you nuzzle into him in a soft whine, he's so putty feeling his heart skip beats, his breath staggering like boy is damn smitten. placing you on the bed he'll quietly pull the covers on, a sneaky kiss on the lips and then leave the room to calm himself down, maybe even scream silently a little with the way you get him nervous over nothing.

fuck, she's so damn adorable i'll melt.

𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he'll text you to ask if you're awake and if you don't respond he knows you're out. he'd definitely softly speak about his day even though you're not listening. complimenting you as he always does of how pretty you manage to look all the time. will sing you a bunch of songs if you wake up, holding you close and tracing over your features, smiling so wide all the tiredness of the day washes away. also makes sure to wake up before you to again admire your sleeping face.

you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 asleep or not, jungwon is always careful when he walks through the door, softly opening and closing it. tiptoeing inside as quietly as he possibly can, and when he spots you asleep on the couch he'll put everything down to bring you to bed. carrying you like the most precious thing, laying you on the mattress and immediately leaning over to leave kisses all over. if you stir awake he's getting in and cuddling you back to sleep, hands caressing your head gently.

it's just me baby, you looked so cute couldn't help it.

𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 will absolutely not switch on anything or make any sound and obviously will carry you to bed if you're passed out somewhere else. he'll kinda avoid looking at your face, until he cannot help it and god help him because once he does he'll be glued, eyes staring non stop. he can't believe someone so beautiful loves him, and all these complicated emotions come at once. he's overwhelmed and so whipped, he'd play around with your hair deep in these thoughts until sleep comes to him too.

how did i manage to have someone like you?

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

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anakur · 8 months ago

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Cuddling him would include... (Featuring The Main 4 & Butters)

🌹| A/N : My first post ^^ I'm glad to have finished it though I am a tad bit worried over my characterisation of them. Guess that's just how I am haha

🥀| Warning(s) : slight nsfw implications- mostly parents' assumptions, but also during the last part for Kenny

Stan ⋆ ˚｡⋆🎧˚

Listening to music. Sharing earbuds or earphones. Especially when his parents are arguing (or if Randy is just... Being Randy)

You two are cuddling, as you look up, you see Stan with his earbud in hand, listening to the noise outside his room. He sighs before turning to you. He presses you closer to him as he turns up the volume on his phone. You wrap your arms around his neck and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch.

Smells like weed. Because,, Tegridy Farms.

Wears his beanie when you're cuddling. You take it off and he gets grumpy. Kiss him on his forehead in conciliation and watch as he gets that stupid Charlie Brown grin on his face.

The first few times you cuddled in Stan's room, he cleaned it up beforehand but after the first few times, he stops. Not to say his room is dirty, just, you may find an empty bottle on his nightstand, some clothes tucked underneath his bed or a hoodie draped over his desk chair, threatening to fall.

At some point Stan may get up to move it but it only ends up falling, so he leaves it on the floor. Next time you come over its still there (he swears he picked it up eventually and it just fell again)

The first time you two were cuddling he spent the majority of the cuddling session with his face pressed into the crook of your neck or your shoulder. You found it sweet. He was flustered, because in actuality he was trying to fight the urge to vomit. Eventually he has to excuse himself for a moment. Felt he messed up and ruined the moment, but his heart skipped a beat when he came back to see you waiting for him with open arms.

Kyle ⋆ ˚｡⋆📚˚

He finds drooling to be a bit gross, even though he knows it's not something you control. In the beginning of your relationship he will wake you up to tell you that you were drooling. Reasurres you it's fine when he watches you get embarrassed. Later on in the relationship, he'll just grab a tissue from the box on his nightstand and wipe it off himself.

It's what he keeps his tissue box there for. nothing else

Has to keep the door open, because his mom tells him to. Although his dad is a bit more lenient about it.

Sometimes when you forget about it, Ike will come into the room- having announced himself by a short knock at the door- as he stares at his phone and simply tells you:

" Mom says to keep the door open. "

Ike then proceeds to leave it wide open

" Close it halfway. "

He's already gone.

Kyle's the one who gets up to do it, leaving the door ajar. Everytime. Doesn't make you get up. If you ask for a glass of water, he'll also get it for you (and give you a forehead kiss). Don't abuse that power though, once you overuse it he'll start making you get it yourself.

Will not fall asleep when you're playing with his hair, but, he does feel very comfortable in that position

Says very sweet mushy stuff to you and gets embarrassed when he realizes you were awake the whole time. He trails off and stops talking.

Pushes you away playfully if you ask why he stopped or tell him to continue talking.

If you're watching a movie and cuddling, with a blanket covering you both, especially if it's dark outside and the lights are turned off, Sheila eyes you suspiciously when walking by. Staring particularly onto the blanket on your laps, covering you both waist down.

Kenny ⋆ ˚｡⋆🗑˚

Finds it cute when you drool. He'll chuckle and wipe it off.

Keeps his door closed. Hates it when you can hear his parents arguing. He would offer to share his ear phones but they're not in the greatest condition. Electric sparks flying and exposed wires. So, bringing your own pair would be very much appreciated.

Whispers mushy things to you when you're asleep. When he notices you're awake, he switches it up and starts saying dumb things just to make you laugh. Hears you give in and start giggling and he grins, acting surprised as if he had no idea you were awake.

When Kenny's household becomes too loud, he'll take you outside and lay on the grass together. Makes up constellation names.

It's the middle of the night while you're both sprawled out on the bed. You're sleeping and he's awake. He listens to the sounds outside the window and your breathing. When he hears you moving, he looks over and gently pets your hair, telling you to go back to sleep. His voice quiet and gentle.

be prepared for waking up and having Kenny casually mention he got morning wood

Cartman ⋆ ˚｡⋆🍫˚

Liane asks him to keep the door open but she's very lenient about it, by simply mentioning it as she walks by Cartman's room.

Also will bring you two snacks

Cartman is the type of person to tell his mom you're hungry, when, in fact, he was the one who suggested getting something to eat.

Flabbergasted when his mom turns to you asking what'd you'd like to eat.

Tries to cut you off, suddenly switching to 'we'

Smells like food.

Unlike the other guys he does NOT clean up his room beforehand. I believe however, his room is clean for the most part.

You had to nag him to clean his bed. Yes, his sheets are regularly washed and his bed gets made (both by Liane), but he eats in his bed. Which leaves some crumbs, that stay even after he 'sweeps them off' with his hands.

Imagine Liane's utmost surprise to see her darling son, Eric, on the bathroom floor, with his bed and pillow covers, squinting at the instruction on his phone. He mutters some swear words, before finally turning to her for help.

So the next time you come over, he had cleaned his bed hours before you came and restrained himself from doing anything on it until you arrived.

Actually gets pissed when you don't mention or even notice how clean his bed suddenly has become.

On second thought, he realized you probably will not praise him on a such a basic household task. But c'mon at least acknowledge it.

Lets you lay on him, sometimes.

He's watching some dumb videos on his phone as he had gracefully allowed you to lay your head on his shoulder.

You ask him to turn down the volume.

Fights the urge to not be a dick about it, and not raise the volume.

Begrudgingly he reaches for his headphones.

Once you fall asleep, he starts rubbing your back slowly. Immediately yeets his hand away when you wake up.

Doesn't want to deal with you waking up, even if he himself had also been awake.

" Eric... " you mumble, opening your eyes.

" Go to sleep. " he pushes your head down, as gently as you'd expect him to, onto the pillow.

" But I want water... "

" No. "

" ... What do you mea-"

" If you drink water you'll end up pissing yourself while you sleep. In my bed. "

"... That's not how it works. "

He then proceeded to press you into his chest.

" Fucking sleep. "

Butters ⋆ ˚｡⋆🌼˚

His parents definitely have him leave the door of his bedroom wide open. Not just slightly open. No, fully open. So, the cuddling has to be kept at a modest level.

Just sitting next to each other with some space in the middle between you both.

If his dad walks in, he'll stare at you, as to make sure nothing suspicious is going on.

If his mom walks in, she might remark how nice it is to have you over, asking if you two are comfortable and reminding to keep the doors open.

Holds your hand. Either your fingers are intertwined or he plays with your fingers as you talk, or just lay there in comfortable silence.

Falls asleep first, despite his attempts at staying awake, to make sure you sleep peacefully. However Butters is the one who wakes up first, so you just have him staring at you for a couple of seconds before realizing it may have come across as creepy and apologising for it immediately.

When you traced your finger along the scar on his face, he like squeezed his eyes shut at first. But then next time you ask before doing so, and he relaxes into it. Now he melts when you do it.

Would brush his fingers through your hair, no matter its length. But if his fingers get stuck he freaks out and thinks its his fault.

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cruel-hiraeth · 2 months ago

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꒰ DEVOTION ꒱ OKKOTSU YUUTA X READER

cw: mdni. yandere yuuta. alcohol mention. implied drugging. implied noncon. a/n: a quick elaboration of this thought (yuuta is the king of gaslighting).

There’s a hickey on your inner thigh.

It’s a conclusion you arrived at as you pulled on a pair of fresh underwear this morning; there’s no other way to explain the amaranthine bloom on the supple (and otherwise unmarred) flesh. The spot is tender to the touch—its sensitivity proof that it’s indeed fresh.

Yuuta listens thoughtfully when you bring up the suspicious mark, nodding periodically as you walk him through your concerns.

Rubbing your temples, you sigh. “I’m just confused, Yuu, because we didn’t fuck last night.”

“We didn’t make love, no. We both had a bit to drink and fell asleep before anything could happen.”

“So—” you point to the mottled skin “—what’s this?”

He leans closer to inspect the mark. Jet strands fall across his vision, and he pushes his hair back when he sits up. “Honestly? It looks like a bruise to me.”

“But my bruises are never this color,” you frown.

“A bug bite, maybe?”

You shake your head. “My skin isn’t raised and it doesn’t itch.”

After a few beats of silence, you clear your throat. “Yuuta. You didn’t, um…” Your eyes flit your boyfriend’s, and you get lost in the serenity of his gaze—the slow swell of the sea on a hazy day. He looks at you sincerely, without any judgement or frustration; you can’t bring yourself to finish the question.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be accusatory; I’m just at a loss.”

He smiles softly with a tilt of his head (it’s your favorite expression of his—one that’s etched into your memory). He spreads a palm across your thigh, his thumb gently stroking the spot in question. “I want you to feel comfortable saying anything you want to me. I’m your safe space.”

Your heart swells at his words. He’s too good for you, truly.

He continues, “Maybe it’s just a fluke. As long as it heals, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You nod. “I’m not sure why I was so worked up. It seems silly, now. Thank you, Yuu.”

Yuuta wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace; you bury your face into his chest with a contented sigh. He rubs your back, trying not to think back to last night, willing his cock to behave. But he can’t stop replaying the highlights in his mind: the little pill he slipped you when you weren’t looking, your precious snores as he spread you out on the bed, and your angelic expression as he had his way with you, leaving a surprise on your thigh—

A mark of his devotion.

#i hope this makes sense i wrote most of it at 2 am LOL #— from the desk of #— okkotsu yuuta #— jujutsu kaisen #cw yandere #cw noncon #cw drugging #yuuta x reader

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stylesparker · 1 year ago

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closer than friends

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: season 1/2 era, friends to lovers, sweet love confession, Dean being Sam’s wingman

A/N: my first supernatural fic is finally here!!! It’s been a long while since I’ve had the motivation to write, and I’m so glad I was able to get this out and share it. Please reblog if you enjoy!! <33

"How many times are you gonna shift in your goddamn seat, woman, jesus christ." Dean glances over at you from the wheel for the fourth time, watching you rub your eyes and knock your shoulder into the side of the Impala's door again.

"It's not my fault the passenger seat isn't made for comfortable napping, Dean."

You hear Sam chuckle from over your shoulder; this makes you look back to find him comfortably nestled into the corner of the backseat with his sweatshirt tucked in the crook of his neck so he can lean against his door without discomfort.

You huff, "I don't want a word from you."

"Says the girl who called shotgun and fought for the front seat all morning."

"What did I just say?"

Dean rolls his eyes, "Okay, knock it off. We're finding a place to sleep tonight."

While Dean focuses back onto driving, you try your hardest to find a suitable position that would allow you to sleep for awhile up until you guys made it to whatever hotel you were staying in for the night. You'd like to blame the Impala for your sleep deprivation, but you've slept in it before just fine, so you know the car isn't the problem. Even though you're going on just over 36 hours of no sleep, your mind won't shut off. The events of the case you were working on for the past couple of days play like a movie in your head, reminding you of how it ended over and over again.

You swallow quite harshly, and shift in your seat again. Something soft smacks the back of your head and you whip around to see what Sam's hit you with, but it's just his sweatshirt, and he's already leaning against the side of the car like he was before, almost as if he hadn't moved at all.

You mumble out a quiet "thank you," and you don't bother to even listen for any sort of reply before you're stuffing his sweatshirt underneath your head and forcing yourself to go to sleep. It's not long before you hear Sam's soft breathing from the backseat signifying that the boy has finally fallen asleep himself. You almost gave up until you saw Dean turn down his music just a little, side-eyeing you as he looked between you and the road.

"Is that better?" He asks.

"It was fine before."

"I'll keep it like this anyway."

You hum in response, and he goes back to humming his own tune to follow along with the music. With Sam's soft breathing in the back and Dean's low humming, you finally find something else other than your mind to focus on, which ultimately leads to your eyes lulling shut and you drifting off to sleep.

When your eyes start to peel back open again, the car is stopped and there's light rain patter on the wind shield. You lift your head causing Sam's sweatshirt to lightly fall into your lap, and at the same time the door opens revealing a slightly wet Sam waiting for you.

"C'mon, we're here."

"Slow your roll, Sammy, I just woke up." Your head lolls back onto the seat, and you let your eyes close once again, forgetting about Sam who's standing in the rain waiting for you to get out.

"Alright, let's go."

You shiver and grumble a slight protest as you feel his cold hands slip underneath your body to grab you and pick you out of the Impala. He knocks the door shut as he cradles you close to his chest as to not drop you, and as he locks the car. Your ear stays smushed against his front as he carries you, allowing you to feel the soft pitter patter of his heart beating in his chest.

"What time is it?" You mumble sleepily.

"Close to ten."

"That's it?"

"Yeah." You nod, not replying this time so you can nod back off in his arms. You're back to being fast asleep once again by the time Sam reaches the room Dean picked out for you, and he tries tucking you into your bed as gently as possible so he doesn't accidentally wake you up. In the short process you only mutter something unintelligible to Sam's ears as he finishes pulling the blankets up, so he ignores it and kisses you on the forehead, bidding you a good night before he retreats back to the room he's sharing with Dean for the night.

It's much later when you're rudely roused from sleep by a nightmare; you sit up straight in the bed with your hands by your sides clawing at the sheets, your eyes wide and unfocused, much too scared to figure out where you are or how you've gotten there. It takes a second to realize you're in a motel room, and now, the sheets that were once neatly laid over your body are haphazardly thrown towards the end of the bed, practically hanging off and hitting the floor. You take a shaky deep breath in and out, taking your trembling hand and placing it over your heart in an attempt to regulate it.

After a couple minutes your breathing is sort of back to normal, but your shakiness hasn't stopped. At that point, you're aware you won't be falling asleep again anytime soon, so you sit up further and throw your legs off the bed to go and find something to busy yourself with. In the corner there's a chair that you notice has your bag on top of it, and there's a small table next to it with a notepad. Your curiosity pulls you towards it, and when your feet reach the table, you're able to make out Sam's sloppy handwriting.

If you need us. - S

Next to the writing is a key card, which you can obviously assume is the one to their room. You pick it up and turn it over a few times, debating on whether this dream was something worth needing them for. In your head, needing was the same thing as bothering and it was never used as a positive term. But you know that if you spend another minute in that bed you might actually start crying and drive yourself crazy over the dream, so you take your chances and hope one of the boys will let you sleep in their bed or at least talk to you for awhile and get your mind off of it.

When you open the door and step outside, you become acutely aware of the cold air on your arms and legs rather quickly, and you begin to wish you were wearing a sweatshirt instead of one of Sam's shirts and a pair of shorts. The chill encapsulates you, making you hasten your step towards the room down the hall with the number specified on the key card. Once you make it to the room, you're pushing yourself up on your tip toes because, despite your sock covered feet, the ground is still horridly cold and you're hoping to get off it as soon as possible. Although, you find yourself unable to let yourself in once you find yourself standing in front of the door. You give it a good five minutes before you work up the nerve to finally pat the key card on the handle to allow yourself in the room. Once you've pushed open the door a crack, you're able to perceive a bed-side lamp turned on, and Sam leaning against his headboard next to it.

His head snaps up from his book at the sound of the door being pushed open, but he relaxes when he realizes it's you.

"Hey," he says softly. He's in the brown sweatshirt you were passing back and forth earlier, and he's weirdly still in a pair of jeans, but at this point you're used to seeing Sam and Dean wearing their jeans to bed.

"Hi," you respond back, even softer.

Sam likes to think he's pretty good at perceiving your body language, especially after knowing you for so long; so when he notices your trembling hands, your flushed cheeks, and your frantic eyes, he knows that you've had a nightmare.

He's not gonna ask why you're there since he knows why, so he only pats the side of the bed next to him and asks, "You wanna' join me?"

You're quick to nod your head and cross the room to join him, and it's only then when you're on the bed that you notice Dean isn't in the other one.

"Where's Dean?"

"Oh, he left to drive around. He's probably at a bar, or sleeping in the car somewhere." He says casually.

You hum, "Couldn't sleep?"

"Neither of us really could. He asked if I wanted to come with, but I didn't really feel like leavin'." Sam left out the fact he didn't want to leave you here alone, since he doesn't like leaving you anywhere by yourself. Dean doesn't either, but he doesn't get fussy over it like Sam sometimes does when you fight them on it.

"I can't either," you say quietly.

With some of your hair dangling in your face and your flushed cheeks, you look sort of delicate in Sam's eyes. You look sad, but when you look at him you have a gentle smile covering your lips, and when you look away your mouth curves downward again, only slightly, to where you might think he won't notice, but he does.

Sam's always stayed observant of you, even when you think you're the one who takes all the mental notes of him.

He reaches out, lifting the hand closest to you and letting his palm rest gently on top of your shoulder.

"You okay?" He almost looks like a puppy when he asks, and it's pitiful. For you mostly because he's cute, but why should he look like that when you feel like you're gonna start crying any minute.

You don't even want to answer because if your mouth opens you're either gonna say you're fine, or words describing the terrors you experienced in your sleep are going to come pouring out of your mouth and you won't be able to stop until you're a sobbing, pitiful mess and you could not handle being that way in front of Sam.

You couldn't.

But looking at him looking at you so fondly, it's like he's trying to tell you he'll comfort you the only way he knows how and he's gonna fix all your problems with a touch or two alone. Like the way he wants to hold you will melt all your fears into nothing and the way he wants to kiss you will make you forget any of it even happened. His eyes speak more than words could express in this moment and you don't even care if you seem desperate, or needy, or anything really. You allow yourself to fall forward into his awaiting arms, and when your head meets his chest, you can't help the first sob that escapes your lips.

You sound so tired, and the way that you're crying so harshly makes him feel like you're tearing yourself apart inside, like each breath is ripping off another piece of your heart.

"Honey..." he breathes out gently, wrapping his one arm around your neck and his other only comes up about half way so he can hold your head close to him under his chin. You've fallen completely into his side, your head against his chest and one leg practically in his lap, but he doesn't seem mind. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

You consider it for a moment; you probably would feel better opening up to him about the case you just worked, considering he was also there and knows how hard it was, but you also know opening up to Sam makes you feel close to him. Intimate almost. You’ve never been one to share your thoughts or feelings generously, and you think that must have just came with the messed up childhood, since Sam and Dean are pretty much the same way. But as the years went on, the boys got much better at opening up to you than you did them. Although, if there was anyone that could get you to talk, it was Sam.

Today, you decided, would not be one of those days.

You shake your head, "I'm okay, I'm okay. I'll be fine." You know by his soft sigh that he doesn't believe you, but luckily he doesn't push it. "Can we just stay like this for a little while?" You whisper shyly, despite knowing he wouldn't say no to you.

"Yeah," he strokes your hair softly, "Yeah, of course."

You lay comfortably against him as he slowly but surely calms you down, holding your head and rubbing your arm gently as you let out sad little sniffles. Once you've relaxed, you murmur something into his chest that he thinks might have been a thank you, but before he can ask you've already fallen asleep.

About an hour later after the two of you have fallen asleep, Dean unlocks the door and enters the room slightly shitfaced but more so tired. He freshens up in the bathroom so he doesn't wake up feeling even worse in a couple of hours, and he doesn't even notice you're there until he's trudging out of it, eyes wide and feet frozen to the floor as he takes in the image of you and Sam cuddled up to each other in Sam's bed. He manages to put his fist against his mouth just in time to cover up a surprised laugh, taking in the sight of his little brother in the same bed as their best friend.

"This is gold." Dean smiles mischievously, pulling his phone out of his pocket to capture the moment. "Just friends my ass." He mutters.

...

"Dean, if I have to hear you say that girl's name again one more time, I'm going to chop your head off. I don't care how good she was at su-"

"Alright, alright, let's quiet down shall' we?" Sam pats your shoulder and looks around the cafe to see if anyone heard you bickering with Dean about last night's one night stand. Dean laughs loudly as he lets himself into the corner booth that the three of you chose while you were walking in.

"What, you nervous someone's gonna hear us, Sammy?"

"It's 8 in the morning, Dean. Let's be a little respectful."

You hide your giggle, "Yeah, Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes, glancing at Sam as he ever so casually throws his arm over the back of the seat behind you, looking at the side of your face to see if you've taken notice. You're picking your nail, completely oblivious. He almost rolls his eyes again.

"Well," Dean straightens up, "Let's see what we have on the menu today."

"Don't act like you're not going to get the same exact thing you get every day," you comment, not even looking up from your nail.

"What's with the attitude, sweetheart? Didn't sleep well?" Sam's smile quickly turns to an annoyed frown as he makes eye contact with Dean, silently sending him daggers to keep his mouth shut.

You squint your eyes at him and open your mouth to come back with a retort, but the waitress walks up before you get the chance to say anything.

"Are y'all ready yet, or would you like a few minutes?" She asks kindly.

"Can we have a couple more minutes?" You say, since the three of you haven't even taken a look at the menu yet. She nods and retreats, leaving you alone with the boys once again. Sam and Dean grab their menus and you quickly realize there isn't a third, so you go to call the waitress back, but Sam nudges you just before you do.

"It's fine, just share mine." You huddle close next to him, resting your chin on your hand as you survey the food options as Sam does the same. He's so close his hair just so slightly grazes the skin of your cheek. Dean raises his eyebrows when he notices Sam's leg has started bouncing and he covers up his laugh with a cough just as he did last night, busying himself and acting clueless as the two of you look up at him.

"You alright?" You ask jokingly.

"Yup, totally fine. You guys ready yet?"

"Yep. How about you, Sammy?" He clears his throat and doesn't say anything, but he nods his head in response, which has you eyeing him weirdly. You choose to ignore it and let Sam order for you while you kick Dean under the table to stop being flirty with the nice waitress, and he only winks at you before he gives his order too.

When the waitress departs from your table, Dean lets his eyes follow her just for a second before he's turning back to the two of you, and he gets this questioning look on his face when he realizes the two of you are blankly glaring at him with the same narrowed eyes.

"What," he throws his hands up in defense, "I can't admire a good-looking woman?"

You and Sam glance at each other with a knowing glance right before you look back at Dean and say, "What's with you today? Why are you acting so..."

"Strange." Sam says. He leans forward on the table, "Why do you look like you're up to something?"

"Huh? Me?" Dean points to himself, "I'm not up to anything. I'm just being plain old me."

"Yeah, sure." You laugh him off and start a side conversation with Sam that has the two of you forgetting about Dean for the moment. Dean always knew Sam liked you; it's so obvious, at least to him. But he wishes he'd realized before how clearly obvious you are too. He doesn't know if he wants to throw up or throw a party.

...

A couple weeks later

"One or two rooms?" The lady asks.

"One please." Dean replies, handing the lady one of his debit cards that probably had some weird made up name on it. When Dean turns around with his debit card and the key in hand, you and Sam are looking at him weird like a couple of toddlers.

"Really? One room? Since when have we done that?" You questioned.

"Since you and Sammy boy over here started sharing a bed every night. I'm not gonna pay for two rooms when you don't use yours." Dean quickly catches on to how he's embarrassed the two of you so he adds, "and besides, I'd rather you stick with us anyway. Keep the team together." He pats your shoulder with a smirk and leaves the two of you behind. Sam spares a glance at your face and he's a bit surprised to find that you're just as taken aback as he is, but you don't say anything and you follow Dean rather quickly.

The three of you head back to the Impala to grab your bags before heading to the room, and when you go to take out yours, Sam slides in front of you and grabs his in one hand, and yours in the other.

"Sam." You say impassively.

"Yeah?"

"I am fully capable of grabbing my own bag."

"Oh I know. I'm just getting a quick work-out, since you know, your bag is like 50 pounds from all the clothes you carry.

"It is not, I barely bring anything with me!"

"You might be right, but if I may ask, how many of the shirts in here are actually mine?"

You pretend to think, "Um, probably like two. Maybe three."

A wide grin spreads across his face as he laughs at you, "Now you're lying! Half my wardrobe is in here!" Sam pushes the cracked door open with his behind and holds it open for you, standing to the side with his foot on the door. Dean's bag is at the end of his bed and he's already crashed on the bed nearest to the door.

"Hey, it's not my fault your clothes are more comfortable than mine! I don't know who decided that men deserve softer clothes."

"Well, in that case," he dropped the bags, "be my guest."

"Oh, how sweet. I like how you think you had any choice in the matter."

"Haha, very funny. Do you want the first shower?"

"You can take it, I had it the other night. Besides, I need to figure out which shirt I'm stealing tonight. I was thinking of the blue one, or actually, maybe the green-"

"Oh my god, I'm leaving." He rolls his eyes, but you can see the amused smirk on his face as he heads to the bathroom, and gently closes the door behind him. You giggle to yourself as you pull out his blue shirt from your bag and a pair of pants since it's a bit chillier tonight.

He's out of the shower pretty quick, and when he emerges from the steamy bathroom, you're next to Dean's bed whacking him repeatedly with a pillow.

"I told you to stop snoring!" You yell at him.

"Hmph, stop hitting me, crazy woman!" He mumbles sleepily at you. You stop hitting him when you notice Sam watching you, and he wants to laugh at how cute you look, like some kid who's got caught doing something they're not supposed to.

"What, he was bothering me."

He smiles, "I don't doubt it."

He doesn't realize that you froze mainly because he came out in a pair of sweats and no shirt, with his hair dripping wet and a towel around his shoulders. Dean peaks his eyes open and grumbles when he notices the way you're looking at him. You hear Dean, which breaks you out of your temporary trance.

You drop the pillow and give him a sheepish look, "I'm gonna- I'll take my shower now." You nod, promptly leaving the room after you grab the clothes you had set out on your bed. Sam watches you leave, more than a bit confused might he add, suspicious of the way your mood had suddenly changed. Once he hears the water running and the curtain pull back signifying you're in the shower, and can no longer hear him, he settles on the bed and asks Dean a question.

"What happened?"

"You happened, you idiot."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said. I'm sick and tired of watching you two pine after the other when you clearly love each other, so for gods sake- no, my sake, tell the girl you love her and get on with it!"

Sam's face is hysterical, and if Dean weren't so tired right now he'd be laughing, but he's exhausted in more ways than one, so all he can do is shut is eyes and hope his little brother makes a move on the girl who's been his practically since the day they met her.

"D-Dean... I can't just-"

"Yes you can, and you will." Dean finalizes. "At this point I'll just do it for you. It's unbearable." Sam huffs loudly, flopping back onto the bed.

He lays there and stares at the ceiling for awhile until he hears his brother's soft snores coming from the other side of the room; when he sits up and runs a hand through his hair, he hears the shower turn off and your light humming become more audible.

He takes a final deep breath just as you walk out of the bathroom with your hair combed nicely and your warm pajamas, perfectly ready for bed. Not exactly ready for your best friend to confess his undying love for you. He wants to crumble at the sight of your smile.

"You okay?" You ask gently. "You look a little pale."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he waves you off, "When am I not fine?"

You laugh softly, "Do you want me to answer that?"

"Actually no." He gives a soft laugh of his own before his eyes land on his brother again, thinking over the words that were spoken to him just minutes prior to you walking out of that door. You were so near, so close to their conversation, and you have no idea. He can't help but think that maybe you'll be taken aback, shocked beyond belief, or traumatized enough to the point you yell at him and leave him for good. Or, maybe... possibly... there's a small chance you do feel the way that Dean says you feel, and in just a few moments the entirety of your relationship will change. Well, no matter what it'll change.

He just hopes it's what he feels it might be.

Sam's face snaps up to you quickly, like he's just had a sudden thought, and his eyes hold yours for a beat too long before he asks, "Can we go outside for a second?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." He gets up and takes long strides towards the door, you just a foot behind. He opens it and leaves it open for you to slide through, and he's standing there with his hands in his pockets facing away from you. You give him a questioning glance, but he doesn't see it.

"You have the key?" You query.

"Um..." he pulls out the card in his hand to make sure and you giggle at him, but he just nods, putting it back in his pocket, gulping strangely, "Yeah, I got it."

"Okay." You whisper softly, closing the door quietly behind you. You're silent for a moment, giving him a second to see if he'd speak first, but he doesn't. "You okay, Sammy?"

"I'm in love with you."

Not even a beat later, those words exit his mouth, and everything changes. The atmosphere that was once light, comfortable, and knowing, has shifted to one of fearful eyes, harsh breaths and unspeakable tension. His hands, once unafraid to grab hold of you, now remain glued to his side, flexing and itching to reach forward and touch your skin. His heart is beating so fast he feels like it's getting torn out; each individual piece of it being sliced and picked carefully from his chest as if he were on an operating table.

He can't tell if the look on your face is fear or shock. Probably both. But he doesn't know if it's good or bad and it's scaring him.

"Say something." He breathes out, with a drop of desperation.

Your mouth, hung open for a brief amount of time, now closes, and you gulp just like he did before he uttered those five little words.

"What did you say?" you murmur, looking like you just got pulled from space.

He repeats himself. "I'm in love with you."

You don't say anything again, but he continues.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to say that." He interrupts himself with a laugh, a scared, almost detached sounding laugh, but one nonetheless. You stare at him as he goes on. "For weeks I've had these moments where I look at you and all I can think about is telling you how I feel, but then some part of me ruins it and then I forget about it until you do something again that makes me want to say it again."

"Which, I swear is every two seconds because all you have to do is look at me with those eyes and all I want to do is grab your face and tell you how much I love you, how much you mean to me and how I can't stand sleeping next to you one more night without you knowing that I can't sleep without you anymore. I need you by my side, tucking your head under mine. It's not that I can't because I could, but I don't ever want to again. I could live a hundred lifetimes, all of them with you in them, but if you weren't mine, if you were someone else's, I wouldn't dare live another."

When he notices the tear streaking down your face, he finally reaches forward to hold your cheek in the palm of his hand. Your own comes up from your side to grip tight onto the wrist that's holding your face, and he can tell that you've noticed he's shaking.

"Sam..." Your voice comes out unsure, "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" He questions you, giving you an incredulous look. "Sweetheart, I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

You're holding onto him so tight, he just knows what you're going to say next.

"I love you." You thought it would come out a whisper, but it sounds stronger than you expected. You close your eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh, Sam, I love you so much."

His smile is brighter than a thousand suns, and his forehead drops against yours, staying there as you breath the other in; this new confession bringing in a wind of fresh air that has you feeling like you've both earned a pair of new lungs.

"I thought you might say that." He utters quietly, making you laugh and hit his chest lightly.

"Oh, shut up. Then why were you so scared, dumbass."

"I was confessing my love for you, either way I'm gonna be nervous!"

You smile cheekily, "Your love for me..."

"Don't act like you didn't know." His other hand comes up to hold the other side of your face, tilting your head up more to see you clearly.

"Maybe. But I had my doubts too." You confess.

Sam shrugs, "Well, without Dean I probably wouldn't have said anything for another decade, so-"

Your mouth drops open, "You finally gained the courage because Dean forced you to?" Sam stays still as you gape at him, and he smiles nervously.

"Does it help if I was thinking about it first?"

"Oh my god." You groan dejectedly and drop your head forward onto his chest. He holds the back of your head as he shakes with laughter.

"Okay, okay, be mad at me, whatever. Am I getting my kiss now?"

"Who said you were gonna get one at all?"

"Don't mess with me."

"I wouldn't dare."

...

The next morning, Dean groggily peels his eyes open to the morning sunlight peeking out of the curtains, and grumbles, questioning the time. It's around 8 am, which surprises him because he would have expected you or Sam to have woken him by now. At the thought of you guys, he turns over and manages to find himself alone in the dingy motel room. The bed covers are torn from the top of the bed, more settled towards the end of it, showing that you guys obviously slept in it, but there's no sign you or Sam are even still here.

Suddenly, he hears the low growl of his Baby pulling up outside, making him swing his legs out of bed and trudge over to the door. He swings it open, getting ready to yell at the both of you for going anywhere without him, even if it was breakfast, but his eyes widen and his jaw drops at the sight he's seeing.

You and Sam are standing close together near the trunk, leaning against the side, but mostly the other. Sam's hand, that isn't holding the grocery bags, is holding your hip, and you're looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eye. Sam says something which conjures up a giggle out of you, which then has Sam smiling brightly at the sight of you. He leans down and kisses you straight on the lips, holding you there for a moment before he pulls away to catch his breath. Both of you stand there, unaware of Dean's eyes on you, but neither of you would even really care if you did.

Dean's shocked expression turns to one of accomplishment. He nods, satisfied, and smiles like his brother just did. He sighs.

"Kids."

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester #supernatural

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xoxochb · 2 months ago

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— about anything ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - “wanna listen to the sound of you blinking wanna listen to your hands soothe listen to your heart beating listen to the way you move”

warnings: this is really short pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite a/n: this is entirely random but I wanted to write something simple today :)

for once, the hermes cabin was utterly silent. you had left your cabin early this morning because you’re siblings believed it was acceptable to spray loads of perfume at ten in the morning while you still slept. so, you had taken it upon yourself to leave cabin ten and spend the day in your boyfriends cabin. however, he was absent, you assume because he had counselor duties to attend to this morning unfortunately. so you waited. with your cup of coffee and your jane austen novel, you cozy yourself atop his bed, wrapping the blankets around your frame to shield your skin from the cold air-conditioning of the cabin. for two hours you had waited in silence, all the other hermes children had left for reasons you would guess were their own duties to attend to, so the cabin had been left to just you

bored, you close your book and let your head fall onto the pillow, and as you were ready to fall into slumber you hear the cabin door open. you allow your eyes to flutter open to see who had entered, and lucky you, your eye catches your favorite mop of dark curls progressively getting closer. you smile widely and sit up as luke takes a seat beside you on his bed

“hey. did I wake you?” he asks silently to preserve the quiet tone of the moment

you shake your head slowly, letting yourself fall back into the bed. “no, I just laid down”

luke murmurs a gentle ‘oh’ before laying down alongside you underneath the blankets. both, similarly, you wrap your arms around each other finding instant solace in the serene situation. you pull his head to your chest, his ear right over your beating heart

“what were you up to today?” you whisper. before responding, luke snakes a hand under your shirt, rubbing up and down your skin

“training… more training…”

you nod understandingly and stop yourself from continuing the conversation. you knew that his training was draining and had made the consecutive decision to let him rest. but— he whispers a silent plead for you to speak about your day until his eyes close shut

“I didn’t do much, I just kind of… read a lot. when I left my cabin this morning it smelt like perfume, I got a migraine so I came here hoping you hadn’t left but you were gone so… I took a small nap and I woke up feeling fine then I read emma for a bit and I had my coffee because you know me and my coffee addiction. then I was going to take a second nap while I waited for you but then you came in— so that was really my whole day”

luke hums in response, presumably on the verge of falling asleep from your honey-sweet voice

“that sounds nice. besides the migraine”

“definitely,” yoy laugh lightly, twirling your fingers through his hair to lull him to sleep at last “now rest. I’ll be here when you wake up”

you feel him smile upon your skin. “I won’t fight with you on that”

and he surely did not, moments later obeying your instructions

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #percy jackson x reader #riordanverse x reader #riordan universe #riordanverse

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websterss · 6 months ago

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JUST TRYING TO BE BRAVE — ERIC (AQPDO)

REQUEST: A request for Eric from A Quiet Place: Day One The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down <3

WARNING(S): SLIGHT SPOILERS, fluff, angst, panic attacks

WORD COUNT: 1,286

PAIRING: Eric x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! I didn’t know where you wanted the reader to calm him down so you get a two-for-one scenario fic lmfao <33

MASTERLIST

You don’t know what you would’ve done if you hadn’t run into Sam like you and Eric had. You two probably would have continued to wander the discarded vacant streets of New York, had you decided not to follow the cat.

Sam had been insistent on you both leaving her be with her cat, but at last she got used to your presence. Now as you shelter in her abandoned home, watching and hearing the rain fall from the windows, you can’t help but feel relieved those creatures can’t hear your beloved's panicked inhales and exhales.

“Eric, it’s okay! You’re alright. We’re okay!” He only shakes his head at your reassured comments. Your consolation this time wasn’t doing the trick to calm him down, if you hadn’t run out you would have given him his prescribed anxiety meds. “It’s okay. They can’t hear us up here right now. You’re okay. We’ve made it this far haven’t we?” You breathe out a laugh as you cup his face. He barely musters a nod before his eyes close again, you could imagine the tornado spinning around in his chest. Wreaking havoc on his sanity and any small chance of serenity. You could imagine it all. You could see the panic, the fear in his eyes, making his chest rise and fall rapidly as he struggled to maintain his breath. “Do you want to try it again, what your doctor recommended us to do? Your head pressed on my chest. Match your breathing to the rhythm of each beat of my heart…” You trailed off letting him take the lead.

At your suggestion, he nods slowly, his eyes closing as he reaches out for your hands again. "O-Okay..." Eric tried to take deep breaths, but they came out as panicked stutters.

You sat back against the sofa, allowing space for him to rest against your chest. You began to steady your rhythmic pace, knowing it only worked if you were just as calm and relaxed. You press a gentle kiss against his curls. As his breathing slows to a soft inhale and exhale. He tuned out everything around him. Hearing every thump, feeling every minor skip in your chest. He felt your steadiness, felt the caresses in his hair. The strong warm hold of your other arm as you held him close. He could feel you, hear every intake of air. You were present for him, and he was welcoming the stillness the moment allowed for you both to have once again. He guessed as much though just how the rest of your lives would dissolve into, a world of quiet.

It seemed heavenly at first, but otherworldly frightening, knowing he might just have to savor the small moments where he’d get to hear your voice again. Just as he was doing now.

Once you registered his slackened jaw and relaxed shoulders, you assumed as much that he had fallen asleep. You didn’t dare move. Your fingers continued to rake through his hair as he had succumbed to sleep. You couldn't help but feel relieved that he had calmed down and been able to find some rest. The rain continued to patter against the windows, its soothing sound acting as a natural lullaby to ease your nerves. As you held him close, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his peaceful face.

“What started the attacks?” Sam watches you both from the windows.

“Moving far from home. His parents were so proud of him for following through with law school, but he was devastated to leave them. I completely out of mind in love with him, made the biggest jump of my life following him to the U.S.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

You peer up at Sam with glistened eyes. “N-No. I wouldn’t be sane going through this apocalypse without him. Whatever this whole mess is!” You exclaimed quietly. You look down at him, brushing back his curls. “I’d regret it more if I hadn’t followed him here. I can’t imagine what he would’ve done all alone, if he’d survived it this far. I think he would. I wonder if he’d have met you just the same if I wasn’t here. I’d have been thankful just the same though, Sam. For letting him stick with you.” You choke back a sob, your smile widening at the corners. Sam only nods, turning her head away from your vulnerable confession. You didn’t take it to the heart. Who knew what pain she was going through herself.

As you spoke to Sam, your voice quivered with a mix of love and vulnerability. You could feel the weight of your words hanging in the air, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving only the three of you to navigate this strange new reality. You couldn’t help but wonder how Eric would have fared if you hadn't been by his side, a thought that sent a shiver down your spine. With bated breaths, you turned your focus back to him, sleeping peacefully in your arms.

“Eric baby please!” You swish around in the water, eyes glistening as you look up at the creature crawling out from the hole on the roof. Sam had taken a more firmer approach. Holding her hand over his mouth. You had caught him about to squeak, before Sam shushed him. His need to express his panic in screams was hard to muffle.

You moved as quietly as you could in the water. Making your way to take over Sam’s place. Eric only shook his head at you. You had to nod, to remind him to stay calm.

“Eric, we need to slow your heart.”

“N-No, no, no.” He muttered. “I can’t…”

“You can, you can. Baby, look at me.” You whispered harshly, gripping his face like Sam had done. In a more serene and calm scenario, your softer touch would have been your go-to, but not when that thing was getting closer. “I’m scared right now, I’m scared too, but we need to get you back on track. I need you to focus and match your breathing to mine, right now!” Your eyes plead with him. “Please!”

His eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated and breaths shallow. The panic was clearly taking over him as water dipped into his mouth, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than the impending danger. Despite his obvious distress, he nodded slightly, trying his best to calm himself down. As you held his face, he tried to match his breathing to yours, each breath a struggle for control over the mounting fear. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay grounded in the presence of your touch.

"I got you. D-Deep breaths…" You barely whisper to him, your frequency morphing into mouthed words.

He took a shaky breath, shuddering as he attempted to follow your instructions. Your steady presence grounded him to the moment.

You didn't hesitate to place his head on your chest. You placed your hand on the back of his head, rubbing his wet hair back and forth in hopes of reassuring him. You tread lightly backwards, keeping your sights on the beast behind you three.

Eric pressed his ear against your chest, the sound of your steady heartbeat providing a calming rhythm to focus on. His breaths were still shaky, but with your hand on the back of his head, soothing in soft caresses, he slowly began to calm down. He closed his eyes and let himself be guided through the water, trusting your instincts to lead the way. Trusting both Sam and you to get him far away from the damned creature.

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webslingingslasher · 5 months ago

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I need a peter x cherry fic ft dry humping and making out

*cleaning out my drafts. contains nsfw content.*

'peter?'

you watch him slowly push your legs apart, laying down between your thighs like a perfect fit. peter's closer than he's ever been, he's more direct than he's ever been.

a brush of his denim under your skirt has you breathing deep, his strong hands push your thighs wider. 'peter?' you quiet when he shushes you, biting at your bottom lip when he gives teasing kisses across your neck.

'shh... i'm giving you what you want, baby.'

baby. you close your eyes as peter marks your skin, a red patch no doubt produced from his teasing. 'what do i -' you clutch his arms tightly, a shocked, yet excited look takes over your face. peter rocks his hips into yours again, you think you're about to bite through your bottom lip.

'yeah? my pretty baby likes that?' peter's rubbing up against you and it feels heavenly, his praises are about to make your head spin. peter holds your right leg up, a switch in his position and you're clasping a hand over your mouth while you scream into it.

'let me hear you. i want to hear how needy i make my girl.' you drop your hand, eyes rolling into the back of your head as peter grinds into you. 'so good. so, so good.' it's all your mind can come up with.

'you've been such a good girl, you've been patient, haven't you?'

you'd agree to anything if it meant he kept going and talking to you like this. 'yeah.' peter pouts, he finds your pleasure adorable. 'tell me. tell me how needy you've been, i wanna know how long you've been thinking about this.'

it feels like years, god you just want him to keep talking. you're feeling something build in your lower stomach and you're not about to lose it now. 'so so long, peter. i want you all the time.'

'i know you do. you think about it every time i kiss you. every time i wrap my arms around you-' you can't keep your eyes open anymore. peter's voice sounds thick, he's praising you while calling you needy. he's giving you things you didn't know you wanted.

'every time you're in the shower, that's when you want me the most, isn't it?' he's reading you like a book, small whimpers falling from your mouth are amplified when peter pushes in, you can feel all of him.

your head is filled with white noise, it's sudden and it rips you apart. your hands clench your bedsheets, curling the fabric between your fingers while you involuntarily buck your hips into his.

a red hot, pounding heat. peter's name comes out choppy, he's telling you to open your eyes but you can't. it shutters through you, peter rides it out with you, a broken hiss when you can't handle it.

'see how good i can make you feel? all you have to do is tell me.'

you nod but your ears are still ringing and your body feels like cement. you can't keep your eyes open, each blink comes with longer and longer gaps.

there's a slow drum in the background, you listen closer, it sounds familiar. it gets louder, it sounds like it's outside your door. as you sit up to ask peter what the noise is, you enter the real world.

you rub your eyes and look around, the only other person in the room is your roommate and she's blissfully asleep. you identify the beat and shut your alarm off, the small movement had you rip your blankets off and stare down at your thighs.

you had a wet dream.

an extremely vivid, full completion, sex dream.

'shit.'

a shower wasn't in your morning plans but it was now, and the entire time you replayed your dream. you felt a little guilty of dreaming about peter like that, you got off on an idea of him. just thinking about him right now makes you feel warm and giggly.

'see how good i can make you feel? all you have to do is tell me.'

you can't shake it from your mind no matter how hard you try.

-----

'how's my cherry-bomb doing?'

the second peter's arm hung over your shoulders, your heart started to race. everything about him was screaming at you. his weight, his cologne, his voice.

'good. how are you?' all you can hear are his words from last night. you shake your head slightly, you're trying to tap in but you're dying to straddle his lap and mimic what he did in your sleep.

'i'm good. better, now that i'm with you.' god, he's wearing that amused grin he had when he was grinding himself against you. you think he said something but all you heard was 'you're such a good girl.'

you shake your head, a physical act of batting your ideas away before asking him 'what did you say?'

'are you doing alright, cherry? you're acting weird today.'

'today?'

'more than normal.' you can’t tell him, it’s embarrassing. ‘i’m okay.’ you freeze at a kiss on your cheek, your mind flashes back to last night. your eyes close as you remember his breath washing over your neck. another kiss at the corner of your mouth, your stomach jumps like he’s under your skirt.

a finger tracing shapes on your shoulder feels like it’s branding you. heat washes over you, you can still recall the grinds he was giving you and how real it felt.

you think the real thing would be better. would he be a tease? would he talk to you the same? one thing without question, he’d be just as dominating for your pleasure.

a swirl on your skin has you standing, by consequence peter’s hand falls. ‘what’s wrong with you?’ you brush out the pleats in your skirt, peter’s eyes follow your movements, you block his view with your bag.

‘i’m busy. super busy. like, mega amounts of busy so i should go. sorry, i shouldn’t have joined you. i’ll see you later. maybe.’ you book it before he could try and sweet talk you into staying.

peter watches after you while he throws his hands up.

‘you were here first!’

———

'did my pretty baby miss me?'

peter's between your thighs again and you're holding in every gasp you muster. 'she's so needy, isn't she?' you swallow hard on a sharp thrust, a whimper tumbles from you.

'i told you all you had to do was tell me- look at how well i'm rewarding you, i have you shaking under me.' peter rolls his hips, the bed moves underneath you.

'my needy baby feels so good, doesn't she? my good girl.'

your throat stings at the groan you release, it's instant this time. your hands dig into his bed sheets while peter rocks you through it, you feel empty but whole.

'i love making you feel-'

you gasp while peeling your eyes open. peter, the real peter, is standing above you shaking your shoulder. 'you alright, cherry?' you're not sure if you were saying anything.

'why?'

'your face was all scrunched up, i thought you were having a bad dream.'

he has no idea. 'not a bad dream. definitely not a bad dream.' two wet dreams back to back is crazy.

peter gives you a funny look and sits back down at his desk. 'okay, weirdo. i didn't mean to ruin your nap.'

'don't worry, i finished.' you squeeze your eyes shut, you feel slightly out of breath. you'd been so good at pushing every inch of the dream from your mind that your subconscious tapped in and doubled down with a second one.

you take a few minutes to calm yourself down before making an excuse to grab water just so you could get away from him for a second.

you swore you were better, you pushed every aspect of your dirty dream deep down and was able to stomach being around peter again by excusing yesterday as a fluke and telling him you had homework on your mind.

peter bought it but you don't think he believed it.

'hey, did you see- jeez, cherry. what has you so on edge?' you jumped at his touch on your shoulders. backing away, your lower back hits a kitchen drawer.

'nothing. i'm just thinking about my dream.' this time you're honest but peter keeps going.

'is anyone giving you any problems?' your eyebrows scrunch together, 'no.'

'are you really stressed out or something? did someone tell you something that's bothering you?' you shake your head again, the confusion you're feeling must show on your face.

'you know i care about you, right?' you nod.

'good.' peter looks relieved. 'and if anyone was messing with you, you'd tell me?' he takes a step forward, you inch to the side, you need him at arm's length.

'no one's messing with me.' except you, but you leave that part out. peter's hiding something, he's able to hold it in for twenty seconds before he's bursting.

'you're acting weird. really weird. you were weird yesterday and you're weird today and i need to know what's going on.'

no, it's embarrassing, dirty and humiliating. you'd rather pull off your fingernails than admit what you were thinking. 'i told you my mind was on homework.'

'then where is it?'

you falter. you can't come up with an excuse before he's pushing further. 'because if you're this stressed about homework, where is it? all you did was come over and stay three inches away from me at all times before taking a nap.' the more he talks, the more it makes sense.

peter's head tilts, he looks over your face before taking a few steps back. 'if you don't like our arrangement anymore, that's okay. we can end it here and still be friends.' it's the last thing he wants but you don't seem comfortable around him anymore.

your eyes widen and you set your glass down a little too harshly, that's the last thing you'd want. 'no! no, no, no! just- no! i like you, i really really like you and what we have going on so no, not that. please not that.'

'then tell me what's going on.' peter sounds defeated while you stare at the ground. your silence is screaming and he takes it as withheld information. 'cherry, if i did or said something that made you upset, i'm sorry. just tell me what i did and we can work it out together.'

you're a terrible person for keeping up with your charade. 'i'm on my period.' you rush the words out, it was a classic fail safe that always stopped follow up questions.

'oh.' why does it look like he doesn't believe you? 'are you sure that's all it is?' because he doesn't. you further commit to the lie with a head nod, you swear he stares into your soul but he gives up.

'okay.' you know by his tone it's not, but you're not going to push your luck so you agree with him. 'okay.' you get an instant stomach ache, you can't handle the stress of keeping secrets from him. you promise, no, swear to yourself that tomorrow you'd bury this so far down that he'd never question you again.

or feel like you didn't want him or what you had because it quite honestly couldn't be further from the truth.

---

good news: you didn't have another wet dream last night.

bad news: you're still thinking about wet dreams.

but you're committed to making peace with your thoughts and being a normal human being around peter before he has a total breakdown.

so, you ignore the flashes of imagery when you wear the same skirt from your dream and watch a youtube video to distract your mind while you sit in front of your mirror and touch up your look.

you even make it all the way to his frat house before you break your vow on forgetting. the first dream was in your dorm, the second was in his room. surrounded by his sheets, suffocated in his smell and touch. while you wore this skirt, the one tickling your mid thigh.

shaking your head, you shake off your daydream and go straight for his room while collecting yourself and putting on a smile. you knock twice before letting yourself in and shutting the door behind you, peter's sitting at his desk and in the zone.

peter's computer has at least seven open tabs. one monitor has a word document, the other has a ted talk. there's two open textbooks and several pieces of scrap paper laid out in front of him. you're unsure if he's doing two classes at once or if it's just one hard piece of work.

you get a small acknowledgement before he's back to reading, halfway mumbling the words to commit them to memory. he's absolutely gorgeous and you understand what it means to burst with want.

there was a time when just kissing him made you nervous but you swear a flip switched and all you can think about is him, him, him. but you swore you'd be normal, so you lean over his shoulder to give him a kiss on the cheek and heavily ignore the part of your brain screaming at you to sit on his lap.

it's even worse than you thought, he's wearing the exact same outfit from both dreams. denim pants, black socks and his frat t-shirt. you lose all capability to breathe but peter's too invested in his reading and wiping away the sticky residue you left on his cheek using his shoulder to notice.

'oh, hey, i'm not like, super well versed in periods or anything but i got some stuff i heard girls like. i was gonna get you some... whatever you call them but there's so many kinds and i don't know what you use but i can get you some to keep here, or you can bring some over next time.'

you've never had anyone care about you like this. you've never had anyone go out of their way to try and buy you pads or tampons, you've never had anyone buy you things just because you're on your period.

'i got some peppermint tea but i think ethan has a bunch of different kinds if you want something else. oh, and chocolate. and reeses cups because i read that sometimes girls crave peanut butter but i call dibs on one. i also got this stuff called midol.'

you feel like a monster, he put in all this effort for a lie. you can't do this to him, it's so unfair. you look away from him when you confess. 'i'm not on my period.' if you could see peter's face all you would find is a funny look.

'like, not anymore or...?' you're inspecting the corner of his room when you shake your head. 'i lied. my period is next week.' peter goes quiet for a minute before you hear his desk drawer slide open and plastic crinkling. you're brave enough to look over to watch him stuff a peanut butter cup in his mouth.

'what?' you can barely make out the muffle. 'there's no way i'm letting these sit around for a week.' you didn't want to tell him why you lied but you're a little upset he's not asking why you did. peter passes one over to you, you take it gently.

'you need some sugar. turn that frown upside down.' he goes for his second, you peel the paper back and take a hesitant bite. you can't stomach it, you can't enjoy a treat while you're still simmering in guilt.

'why aren't you asking why i lied?' peter swallows and holds his finger up to pause the conversation while he chugs some water. 'did you lie for a reason?' not for a good one but it was still a reason.

'yes.'

'was it about your personal safety?' you shake your head, 'no.' peter shrugs, he's indifferent. 'well, it's obvious you're bad at lying but if you have a reason that doesn't concern your mental or personal safety, i trust you.'

you frown, 'i'm not bad at lying.' peter snaps his fingers into a gun before breaking into a grin. 'okay, okay, that's a good one. do another, oo, what color is this pen?' you keep a straight face while you say the wrong color, this time he softly claps. 'i take it back, cherry. you're an excellent mediocre liar.'

'you're making fun of me.'

'i'm allowed to. you lied.' you huff at him and eat the rest of your treat before sitting on the edge of his bed and flopping backwards. peter goes back to scribbling on pages, the only sound in the room were his speakers lowly producing a playlist he made.

it's not getting better. the more you try to forget, the more it's on your mind, the more it's on your mind - the more being around peter is unbearable. especially when he's so sweet and kind, when he's forgiving and trusting.

you want him, you want him all over you and under your skirt.

'have you ever had a sex dream?' it comes out before you could even think about it. peter spins in his chair to look at you, you're drumming on your thighs and bouncing between posters on his wall.

everything falls into place at once, the dodgy eye contact, the constant space you've given him. how you got antsy when he touched you, how you lied just to get him to stop asking questions.

'that's why you've been so weird? you had a sex dream?'

panic. he wasn't supposed to name you. you sit up and stare at him wide eyed. 'it wasn't me!' well- that just confirmed it. peter wants to laugh, instead he's kind and easy with you. you'd been stressed for days over nothing- or what he considers to be nothing.

'yes, i've had a sex dream before.' he's not making fun of you, he's being really delicate. you play with your hands while you mumble the real question. 'have you ever had a wet dream?'

oh. that's why you've been so secretive.

peter still keeps his calm demeanor and lets you poke where you feel comfortable. 'i have.' you sit in the comfortable silence, just asking the question had you relaxing.

'i've- my friend has never had one.'

peter clicks the pen in his hand three times while thinking of an answer, you both know who you're talking about but peter will play along. it's one of your favorite things about him.

'they're totally random, she- they shouldn't freak out about it. i had one about my fifth grade teacher like a year ago and that still haunts me. so unless it's something like that, they shouldn't stress it.'

'right. but what if they can't stop thinking about it? and it's really hard to be around the person it was with?'

peter deserves an award for his poker face.

on the inside, he was screaming. he had an idea, but your confirmation made him want to let out a quiet 'let's gooo.'

on the outside, he was none the wiser.

'i think it depends. why is it hard for them to be around this person?'

‘see how good i can make you feel? all you have to do is tell me.'

it feels too real, you go quiet again. peter won't let you, you started it and he's not letting you turtle shell. it's a lesson in being vulnerable, if you can't talk to him about a wet dream how is he ever supposed to go further?

'cherry?'

you trace your name over your knee, you do it until you can look at him and choke out the truth.

'because i really want to do it.' you know what you said, so does peter. he hates the awkward air, there's nothing to be shy about. peter pretends to be shocked. 'oh, so not a friend?' for a moment you can't remember why you were so scared to tell him.

'not a friend.'

'would i be narcissistic to assume it was about me?' you nod at his question. 'you wouldn't be wrong.' peter has a thousand questions but he leaves it up to you.

'do you want to tell me about it or did you just need to get it out?'

you deflect. 'have you ever had one about me?' peter gives you a hint of a smile and you already know the answer. 'a few.' you're slightly impressed, you're on the border of a panic attack at two, (mostly) non graphic wet dreams and peter's casually brushing off multiple.

'tell me.'

peter's eyebrows raise, you're unsure of your request now. 'i'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.' peter thinks over the offer, he's going to keep the soft, sensual one for himself.

'a couple weeks ago i had one where you were riding me.' you don't know how peter is so honest about it. his is much more vulgar but he's acting like it's an everyday thing.

it's a little ironic, you had a dream where he was semi-riding you.

'what's yours?' this is where peter's interest is at, he wants to know what imagery got you off. yours seems insignificant now, peter's dreaming about the real thing, you got excited off his jeans.

'um, you were wearing that.' you gesture to his all over body. 'i was?'

you nod, 'uh huh, and i was wearing this skirt.' peter eyes the fabric and lets his eyes wash over your thighs. 'you were?'

'yeah.'

'what else?'

you fight past your awkwardness, you told him you'd tell him yours. 'you were... you kept talking to me and saying things that i didn't know i liked but i did. i really, really did.

'and?'

you suck in a deep breath and pull the plunge. 'you were dry humping me. i think.'

peter clicks his pen again, you allow yourself to imagine it as a way for him to restrain himself. 'you think?'

'it was the way you were talking to me. you were kind of mean but in a sexy way. i keep thinking about-' you almost give yourself away, you won't go that far. too late, peter's attention is on you.

'thinking about something i said?' you nod sheepishly, even if peter's acting like it's a normal conversation you still feel bad about thinking of him like that. 'what was it?'

it was a chain reaction. peter said one thing and it spiraled into all of this, you're not sure if you should be greatful or secretitive. you shrug like you didn't already tell him you couldn't stop thinking about it.

it's the reason you're here. you want this.

‘see how good i can make you feel? all you have to do is tell me.'

peter takes a deep breath, 'i see.' calm and collected movements, he sets his pen down and leans back in his chair. your nerves turn into excitement in a second.

'is this you telling me?'

'yeah.'

peter taps his fingers on his armrests, your heart starts to race. the way he’s looking at you is new, this is new. ‘come here.’ your skirt bunches up when you move off his bed and you don’t bother to fix it. you ignite when you're pulled onto his lap.

'is this how it happened?' you shake your head, it's not what you fantasized but it'll do. peter grips your hips and places a kiss at the bottom of your neck. 'what did i do?'

you speak around puffs of air, peter's wet marks are awfully distracting. especially when he gets under your ear. 'it was in my dorm.'

'mhm.' the vibration shot down your neck. 'i was in bed and you...' you open your mouth in a silent moan, there's going to be a hickey tomorrow morning and you don't care in the slightest. 'got between me and started, started- grinding.'

it's so much better than a dream.

all the built tension drops when peter pulls back, he's not denying you of your fantasy. if you want him crawling up the bed - he's going to do it. peter pats the side of your leg before nodding towards his bed, you know what he's asking and you shimmy backwards before jumping into his sheets.

anticipation builds when he stands, voluntarily and expectant, you spread your thighs for him. 'you're gonna make me feel good, right?' he never thought you'd be this bold, peter swears you just gave him an instant boner. 'it's my job, isn't it?'

peter wraps his hand around your ankle and tugs, you hit the center of the bed and feel it shift when he rests on the end. a trail of kisses up your left leg, into your inner thighs, skipping right past where you're craving the most attention before skidding back down your right leg.

it's ticklish, he repeats the pattern and you mindlessly bend your knee up, peter hooks his arm around it while he nibbles at your skin.

'peter,' he's close to you. inches from you. he's getting closer, his kisses slow and feel more like brushes over the area.

'don't worry. one thing at a time.' you relax, he's just being nice. when he reappears, you hum as he stretches your hips wide and slots himself just how you dreamed. 'what did i-'

'do it.' peter raises an eyebrow, 'is that what i-' you pick your head up to stare at his beltline. 'do. it.' peter's wish is your command, he rolls his hips into yours and you let out every ounce of tension and stress in one sigh.

this is what you wanted.

'i've been so good, haven't i been so good for you?' peter can sense a little bit of a praise kink in you, it's fitting. 'you're always good for me. you're my good girl, aren't you?'

a whimper, it's so much better when it's real. 'i'm your good girl.' a harsh grind, you clutch peter's forearm while you throw your head back. 'yeah? that feels good?'

'call me your pretty baby.' peter doesn't know where the direction is coming from but he likes it. 'does my pretty baby feel good?' an audible moan, he's fucking perfect at this.

'i'm needy.' you suck in air, 'tell me i'm needy.'

peter's keeping you pressed to him by his hands wrapped up in your skirt, looping his thumbs under the fabric while the rest keeps a tight hold on your waist.

if this is what you want - he can do this.

'my pretty baby is so needy for me.' you nod and push your hips up, you're rewarded for being greedy. 'so needy.' peter's enjoying your reactions more than he's enjoying the friction. not you, you're more than enjoying the combination and peter wants to know how much.

a slow in the momentum, you soften into a pout at the lack of attention. 'no, no, no. please don't stop.' peter likes this side of you, submissive and desperate. 'tell me how much you want it.'

your head thrashes on his pillow, your hair will pay the price. you paw at his arms and hands, anywhere you can touch. 'no, you're nice, be nice.' you don't like being teased, peter takes a mental note.

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip when he gives you what you want, it's an indescribable feeling and now that you've had it, you can't imagine ever going back. you dig under his shirt, your nails pierce the skin on his hips.

'my pretty baby was desperate for this, wasn't she?' he's so good at it, so, so good. he's so good you can't even talk, peter lifts you and nudges you even closer.

you swear you almost screamed at the new angle, the thick of his denim was giving you every bit of friction you craved. 'but she's been so good.'

'i only ever wanna be good for you.' peter tightens his hold, you can't say things like that to him. you reach for his biceps, peter isn't ashamed to admit he leaned into it to make it easier. he likes you touching every inch of him.

'you're my good girl, even when you're begging.' you nod with him, he's got a great rhythm and you're starting to feel how you did in your dream. 'yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.' you hiss through your teeth at a harsh grind, you swear you're about to explode.

peter watches you fall further into the cusp of total release. sometimes, he can't help himself.

'see how good i can make you feel? all you had to do was tell me.'

the dam broke loose, your eyes squeezed shut so tightly you see a multitude of colors, first black, then white, then hints of red. you didn't know it was possible. for the first time ever someone else was responsible for your orgasm and that made it even better.

'oh my fucking god!' you swear the world came to a complete stop for thirty seconds, your hips stutter as peter keeps going, he's riding the wave with you. he lasts as long as you want, taking the hint when you get loose and can't even hold your arms up anymore.

'better than your dream?'

you didn't do any work but you're breathless like you just ran a mile. you can't respond yet, your brain isn't working. peter pats your knee, 'you can put 'em down now.' your legs drop, they've never been so heavy.

'you didn't finish.' peter smirks, you get a sinking feeling because he totally did and you were so wrapped up in your own world you missed out on it. the first time you did something sexual and you didn't get to see his face or hear his voice.

'no fair! i want a redo.' you lift yourself up, even though you feel like a thousand pounds and push at peter's shoulder to try and get him down on his back so you can get another chance and make sure you don't miss out.

peter lets you lay him down but he stops you from straddling him. 'this is where i tell you about the refractory period between nuts. after i cum? i am a no go for at least twenty minutes. couldn't get it up if i tried.'

you're ultra serious about this. 'so, twenty minutes?' he laughs and holds a grin. 'i promise we'll do this again, there's no need to wear yourself out.' oh, there's no doubt about that. you're going to be asking for this every single day for the rest of your life.

'you're evil for that last comment.' peter's eyebrows pull together, 'what one? there's no need to wear yourself out?'

'no, when you said what you did in my dream.' you also might have pulled out your plea for pet names from the same one but peter doesn't need to know that.

'see how good i can make you feel, all you had to do is tell me?'

your cheeks burn, the verb change from have to had isn't lost on you. you told him what you wanted and he gave it to you, when he said it was under your control he meant it, he just keeps you from swerving off the road or driving too fast.

'yes. that.'

peter's way too amused. 'anything my pretty baby wants, she gets.' you freeze, it feels weird when you're not under him. 'no, stop it.'

'c'mon, be a good girl and play along.' you shake your head and point a finger at him, 'don't you dare.' peter opens his mouth to add one more jab but you beat him to it. 'if you call me needy i'll actually get upset.'

'alright, alright, i'm done.' he raises his hands to show he's not a threat. he's still got a smile on and you can feel your thighs slightly sticking together, your heart rate picks up as you replay what happened minutes ago. it's a strange time to feel shy.

'what? you're looking at me funny.' it was so hot in the moment and you were clouded with lust that it just felt natural. now that you've come down from that high you were almost self-conscious.

'we like, did stuff together. and now we're just hanging out but you like, just gave me a first. like, here we are but also you just literally copied a dream i had and you made me like,' you mimic an explosion. 'and now we're hanging out like it didn't happen but it did and i was already having impure thoughts about you but now it's gonna be even worse.'

peter absorbs your word vomit and only offers six words. 'post nut clarity is hitting, huh?' you release a deep breath, 'are you freaking out too?' he pretends to think about it. 'ah, no. not really.'

'am i broken?'

peter pats his chest and reaches out for you. 'come cuddle.' you find solace in his hold instantly, you don't feel broken. 'you're not broken, cherry. you just did something you've never done before with someone else and you're feeling vulnerable.'

'you're so smart.' he snorts, 'i wouldn't go that far, but thanks.' to show it he kisses your forehead. you swear you're totally melted in his arms, you both sat in a nice silence while he traced random things over your back, his other hand in yours being fiddled with. his watch is the most interesting feature, you keep spinning the dial and pressing buttons.

'i'm surprised you haven't fallen asleep yet.' you hold up his wrist to show him the time.

'why would i? it hasn't been twenty minutes yet.'

#the virgin files #frat!peterxvirgin!reader

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chaoticforever · 7 months ago

Text

Where The Path Led | Yandere Stephen Strange x Male! Reader

Summary: Who thought having sex with Doctor Strange would cause the man to become very obsessive and delusional?

Y/n stirred groggily, a throbbing headache pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning light streaming through the window. The brightness only added to his discomfort, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The room spun slightly, and he had to close his eyes again to steady himself.

After a few deep breaths, he cautiously opened his eyes again, this time letting them adjust to the bright light. As his vision cleared, he turned his head to the right, wincing at the sharp pain from his neck. That's when he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat or two.

This wasn't his room.

It took him a moment to register that he also was not alone. An arm was draped casually across his waist, belonging to someone still deeply asleep. Following the arm up, Y/n recognized the face — it was his colleague, Stephen Strange. The man looked peaceful sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of Stephen lying next to him sent a rush of memories flooding back to Y/n.

The night before, Y/n had gone to a bar in the city, intent on drowning himself in alcohol. He had discovered yesterday that Marcus, his boyfriend of two years, had been cheating on him. The betrayal stung deeply, and he needed an escape. He wanted to forget, if only for one night.

And that's when Stephen had appeared. Noticing Y/n's somber mood, he joined him at the bar. The two men had shared drinks and danced together. Before they knew it, they ended up back at Stephen's place, and one thing had led to another.

Now, Y/n thought back to that moment with a sense of regret. He hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone; he had just wanted a night to forget his issues. Carefully, he eased himself out of Stephen's embrace, holding his breath and slipping out from under the covers. Spotting his clothes scattered on the floor, he began to dress quietly, wincing at the rustling fabric. He located his phone and keys in one of the pockets and quietly left Stephen's home.

Upon returning to his apartment, Y/n made a beeline for the bathroom. The cool water on his face felt amazing, but he knew he looked and felt like a mess. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't indulge in such heavy drinking again.

Going to the kitchen, Y/n began making this hangover remedy his dad had often made for him back in his early twenties. Y/n didn't think he would need it again, but it turns out that he did. As he mixed the ingredients, his phone rang and saw that Mercedes was calling. He answered.

"Hey, Mercedes."

"Hi, Y/n," Mercedes' cheerful voice came through. "So, what did you get up to last night? Drinking liquor at a bar, perhaps?"

Y/n blinked, because how did she just— "Uh, how'd you know that I went out to a bar last night? I didn’t tell you about that."

"I heard from Juan," his friend explained. "Said that he saw you at Charley's bar, getting wasted. He also mentioned that he saw you leave with someone — a tall male with black hair and a goatee. Did you hook up with somebody last night?"

Y/n sighed as he poured the remedy into a cup. "I did. I slept with my colleague, Stephen. It was a drunk hookup though, nothing more, and It won't happen again."

"And why won't it happen again?"

"To be honest, I don't like Stephen in that way," Y/n replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "And after finding out about Marcus, I don't feel like dating or hooking up with anyone for a while."

"I understand," Mercedes' voice was soft. "Take all the time you need to heal but don't let Marcus' actions hold you back. He doesn't deserve your time or energy."

Y/n smiled. Mercedes always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Mercedes," Y/n said gently. "Listen, I'm going to hop in the shower, but we can talk later. Tell Sam I said hi."

"Will do! Talk to you later, n/n," Mercedes responded before the call disconnected.

Y/n placed his phone on the charger and headed for the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching body and clear his mind after the chaotic night he experienced and a challenging morning.

XXXXX XXXXX

Monday morning arrived, and Y/n woke up feeling refreshed and surprisingly energetic, considering the events of the past few days. He had spent the rest of his weekend relaxing in the living room and briefly chatting with his dad on the phone. It felt like he had finally gotten a good night's rest, and the absence of a killer headache was a welcome bonus.

The male stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling the satisfying crack of his joints. He whistled softly to himself as he went through his morning routine, preparing for the long day ahead.

As he drove to the hospital, his thoughts drifted back to his night with Stephen. A flush crept up his neck, thinking back to their sexual encounter. Even though they worked in different areas of the hospital— Y/n as an immunologist and Stephen as a neurosurgeon — they still often saw one another. Y/n wondered if the man in question would bring up what happened between them. He hoped he'd agree to forget about the situation and move on.

When he entered the familiar halls of the hospital, Y/n greeted his colleagues with a smile and nodded to familiar faces. He made his way to the staff lounge for that much-needed cup of coffee because his appointments were back-to-back, and he knew the caffeine would be essential to getting through the day. The lounge was empty as he poured the liquid into a cup.

And then:

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Good morning, Y/n," that was Stephen's voice. Stephen's arms wrapped around Y/n's body, planting a hand on his chest. Y/n's breath hitched as Stephen planted hot, wet kisses on the back of his neck. "You were really amazing last night, you know?" Stephen nipped at Y/n's earlobe. "We definitely got to recreate that, huh?"

Y/n’s breathing hitched. He couldn’t deny that Stephen’s lips felt amazing against his skin, but he really needed to talk to him to make sure they were on the same page. And seeing how this guy was sucking on the back of his neck, It's clear that they weren’t on the same page.

Y/n turned around in Stephen's embrace, stopping the kisses and taking one step back. "Stephen, we need to talk," he said.

The man in question, on the other hand, shook his head. "Later. I want to make love to you again. Right here, right now."

His hand reached forward, palming Y/n's erection with his fingers. This caused Y/n to take two steps back, needing to put a sizable distance between them. There was no way they could do anything here, especially in a hospital where they could be walked in on at any given moment.

Stephen looked annoyed as he took two steps forward, placing his hand on Y/n’s shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"

Y/n took a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts together. "Look, man, last night was — it was a mistake. A good mistake, but still a mistake. We were drunk, and—"

Stephen's eyes narrowed, and his grip on Y/n's shoulders tightened. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "Is that truly how you feel?"

Y/n's heart stilled as he saw a flash of something dark in the surgeon's eyes. It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine. Still, he needed to get these words out.

"Yes," Y/n said softly. "We should forget it. You know, pretend it never happened."

For a long moment, Stephen didn't voice anything, gray eyes fixed on Y/n’s face. Y/n honestly didn’t know what Stephen was going to say, but he just hoped that he didn’t blow up in his face or be upset with him. Then, slowly, he released Y/n’s shoulder and took a step back, grinning.

"Alright Y/n. If that's what you want, then we will pretend that it never happened."

The h/c-haired doctor nodded, internally sighing in relief that Stephen understood where Y/n was coming from "Thanks for being so understanding. We should both probably get to work right about now."

Stephen offered a small smile and opened the door for Y/n, who thanked him and left the lounge. Stephen headed to his office on the fourth floor, while Y/n headed to his office on the third floor.

Booting up his computer, the h/c haired doctor pulled up his patients' files and began reviewing them, preparing for the long appointments. His first patient was a young girl named Sarah, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with her medical history before her appointment.

Exactly at nine o'clock, there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Y/n called out. The door opened to reveal a brown-skinned muscular man and a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind him. Y/n acknowledged the man's attractiveness but shook off the thought since it wasn't appropriate.

"Good morning, Mr. Flynn. Please, come in," Y/n said, offering them a warm smile and extending his hand for him to shake, "I'm Dr. L/n, but feel free to call me Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Jesse responded, shaking Y/n’s hand and stepping inside. the office, guiding his daughter forward. "This right here is my daughter, Sarah. She's a bit shy, so please bear with her."

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Y/n knelt down to the girl's eye level. "You can call me Y/n, too. No need for formalities." He patted on the examination table. "Take a seat here, and we can have a little chat?"

The young girl nodded silently and climbed up onto the examination table, her eyes darting around the room. Jesse took a seat in the empty chair next to his daughter as Y/n began the examination.

"Sarah, your dad explained to me on the phone last week that you've been having tummy aches lately. Can you talk to me about that?" Y/n's voice was friendly.

She twisted her hands in her lap. Then, in a small voice, she spoke, "My tummy hurts sometimes, and I don't know why."

Y/n nodded understandingly. "That must be scary. Can you tell me where it hurts? Does it hurt all the time or sometimes?"

Sarah pointed to her mid-region. "It hurts right here and it usually hurts after I eat."

"I see," Y/n murmured, making a note on her chart. "Okay, I'm going to take a look and see if I can figure out what might be causing you to have these tummy pains."

Sarah nodded, her hand reaching out for her father's hand, and Jesse held it.

Y/n proceeded to perform a gentle examination, taking care to explain each step to both Sarah and Jesse. He asked additional questions about Sarah’s diet, any recent changes in her routine, and any other symptoms she experienced.

When the exam was over, Y/n concluded that Sarah was likely experiencing some digestive issues, possibly due to a mild food intolerance. He suggested dietary changes for her and an over-the-counter prescription to help soothe her stomach.

"Thank you, Y/n," relief was present in Jesse’s voice. "We really appreciate your help. Sarah hasn't been well lately, and we wanted to make sure she was okay."

Y/n waved off the thanks. "It's my job. I'll send the prescription to your pharmacy, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Try the prescriptions for a couple of weeks, and if she shows no signs of improvements, we'll discuss further steps." He reached into his candy drawer and offered Sarah a lollipop. "And here's a lollipop for being the most amazing patient I've ever had!"

A smile appeared on Sarah’s face as she took the candy from him. "Thanks, Y/n!"

"You're welcome. It was nice meeting you and I hope that you feel better soon."

Jesse and Sarah exited the room, and Y/n began sending Sarah's prescription to her pharmacy. Just as he finished, there was another knock banging on his door.

"Come in," he called out, expecting one of the nurses or maybe his next patient.

To his surprise, it was Jesse who poked his head into the room. "Sorry to bother you, Y/n. I just realized I left my jacket here," he walked over to the chair where he was sitting and picked up the jacket.

"It's no problem at all," Y/n assured him.

Jesse slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and turned toward the door. Just as he was about to exit, he paused and turned back, as if to say something.

"Listen," Jesse began. "I know this might be a bit forward, but I wanted to ask: do you have a special someone in your life?"

Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected this line of questioning, but he supposed it was not uncommon for patients' family members to become curious about their doctors' private lives. He wasn't sure about telling his patient's father that he likes dudes since he didn’t know his stance on same-sex couples, but something compelled him to tell him.

"Well," he chose his words thoughtfully. "to answer your question, no, there's no special someone in my life. There used to be a guy but he lost that title privilege."

Jesse nodded, taking a step closer to Y/n's desk. "Interesting. So, if I were to ask you to join me for dinner tomorrow, what are the chances that you would say yes?"

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He had not expected this turn of events. Jesse was a handsome dude, no doubt, and seemed like a good guy. Y/n would be down for it, but the timing wasn't right.

"Oh, I'm flattered, Jesse. Truly," Y/n said sincerely, voraciously, "But to be honest, I just got out of a two-year relationship, and I'm not looking to date right now."

Jesse's face fell, but he gave a nod. "I get it. It's too bad I didn't meet you three years ago. Have a good rest of your day."

Jesse turned the doorknob and left Y/n's office. Y/n watched him go, intrigued by his forwardness. He wondered when the next time they'd see one another again.

And Y/n found his question answered by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around. However, not only did he find the answer to his question but he found a revelation as well, a scary discovery about Stephen.

As Y/n sat in his office, writing notes, he heard a knock on the door. He called out for the individual to come in, but instead received another knock. A bewildered expression crossed Y/n's face as he got up to open the door himself, only to find no one outside. However, he spotted a bouquet of roses and a box of expensive chocolates, each with a note attached.

The note attached to the roses said, "For my one true love, Y/n. I can't wait to see you again soon. -Stephen." The note on the chocolates read, "To sweeten your day, my love." There was a heart under it.

Confusion painted a portrait on his face. It seemed as though Stephen believed they were in a relationship, despite Y/n's clear indication that he wanted to forget about their one night together. Y/n knew he needed to set the record straight and speak to Stephen as soon as possible.

His opportunity came during lunchtime when he was sitting at one of the tables outside. Stephen approached and took a seat next to him without asking, greeting Y/n politely and inquiring about his day.

A forced smile appeared on Y/n's face. "It's going well, thank you. And yours?"

"Wonderful, now that I see you," Stephen replied, reaching over to take Y/n's hand in his own. "Did you get the flowers and chocolates I sent? I know you like roses."

Y/n nodded slowly. "Yes, I did, and—"

"Shh, Y/n," Stephen interrupted, pressing a finger to Y/n's lips and running it over his bottom lip. "No need to thank me. That's what good boyfriends do."

Y/n's eyes widened because what the—? Did he just hear that correctly? Stephen thought that they were— "B-Boyfriends?"

Stephen smiled and planted a kiss on Y/n's cheek, his fingers running over Y/n's knuckles. "Yes, boyfriends. You and I, of course. Where do you want me to take you for Valentine's Day dinner tonight? I know this amazing Italian restaurant—"

"Stop," he removed Stephen's hand from his and held up his own hand. "Look, I think you've got the wrong impression. We aren't boyfriends; we're not dating."

"And why is that?" Stephen questioned, scooting closer to Y/n in his chair. "We had sex, Y/n. That makes you mine now."

At that moment, Y/n realized that something was seriously wrong with Stephen. His insistence that they were dating, despite Y/n's clear rejection, was an obvious sign of delusion. Y/n knew he had to be firm and stand his ground.

Y/n shook his head. Why wasn't Stephen getting it? "I'm not yours. At all. We only had a night together. I am not interested in pursuing anything further. I don't want to be with you. Do you understand that?"

Stephen's jaw clenched, and for a split second, Y/n saw a dangerous flash in his gray eyes. Then, Stephen pushed the table away and stormed off, muttering something about Y/n being ungrateful.

Y/n let out a sigh, feeling drained by the conversation. He hoped Stephen would finally understand and leave him alone.

But Y/n really didn’t feel like working for the rest of the day, so he took the rest of the day off and asked his secretary to reschedule his remaining patients.

As he made his way to the parking lot, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He was half expecting it to be Stephen, but he was relieved to find Jesse standing there.

"Oh, wassup, Jesse. What are you doing here? Is everything alright with Sarah?"

"Yes, she's doing much better, thanks to you. The pills you recommended worked well," he responded. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?"

Y/n was at a loss for words. Sure, he did find himself wanting to get to know this guy better. But he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea since there are ethical implications of dating a patient's family member. He could get in a lot of trouble.

"I appreciate the offer, Jesse, but I don't know if it's appropriate," Y/n attempted to explain. "I mean, you're Sarah’s father, I'm her doctor. It’s a conflict of interest."

Jesse waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. It’s only a conflict of interest if we’re dating, which we’re not. We’ll just be two people enjoying a meal together. What do you say, doc? It could be fun."

Well, when Jesse puts it like that, Y/n guess that sort of makes sense. Since they’re technically not dating, it wouldn’t cross any ethical lines in a literal manner.

Besides, his friends had Valentine's Day plans, and he was the only odd one out. Y/n was planning on spending the day in his living room and ordering some pizza.

"Well, I do enjoy a good meal and good company," the h/c-haired male agreed to the dinner. "Where did you have in mind?"

"There's this restaurant downtown that recently opened," Jesse suggested. "It's called Lepley's and it has good reviews. I've been wanting to try it. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect. Shall we meet there? Around seven?" Y/n gave a thumbs up.

"Seven it is," Jesse confirmed.

Jesse walked back to his car, and Y/n entered his own vehicle, still processing what just happened. Momentarily, Y/n wondered what the evening would bring.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, a certain man with a goatee had watched the interaction. Stephen's gaze followed Y/n as he drove from the hospital, a dark look in his eyes.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n arrived at the restaurant promptly at seven, his heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had taken the time to dress nicely, opting for jeans and a dressy shirt. Casual yet stylish too.

As he entered the cozy establishment, he spotted Jesse sitting at a table by the window, looking around the place as the gentle music played in the background.

"Y/n, over here!" Jesse waved him over.

Y/n made his way through the bustling restaurant, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he walked. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but he forced those thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was simply a nice, friendly dinner.

No extra strings attached.

"Hey, Jesse," Y/n greeted politely, sliding into the seat across from Jesse. "This place looks wonderful." He took another glance around the loud, crowded place. Valentine's Day made this place packed.

"It does, indeed," the man sitting across from Y/n agreed, brown eyes flickering over to the fish tank that was on display. "I've heard great things about this place."

A waiter approached their table, handing them menus and offering them drinks. Y/n and Jesse both ordered a lemonade.

"So, what's it like being a doctor?" Jesse asked, leaning back in his seat to give Y/n all his attention. "I imagine long hours."

Y/n nodded in agreement. "Long hours for sure. It's very demanding and a lot of work, yet there's nothing more rewarding than helping patients with health issues."

"That paycheck must be very rewarding too," he said. "With that salary, you get to live in a big house and drive a fancy car."

The waiter returned with their drinks and took out his notepad, asking them what they wanted to order. Jesse ordered a steak with a side of mac and cheese, and broccoli cheese casserole. Y/n then ordered a simple cheeseburger and fries. The waiter said their meals would arrive shortly as he took their menus and left the two alone.

Y/n took a sip from his lemonade before answering Jesse’s remark. "Well, believe it or not, I don’t live in a big house. I live in a small apartment. However, I plan on upgrading to a house once my student loans are fully paid off, which should be real soon. I also plan on keeping my Chrysler. I’ve never been much of a big spender; I like the financial stability that comes with being a doctor. But enough about me. What do you do for a living?"

Jesse explained that he works in the finance department of Stark Industries. He analyzes investments and monitors the company’s financial performance. That was simply remarkable, especially to work for such a renowned company.

Soon, their food arrived, and they dug in, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about their hobbies and even shared embarrassing stories from their childhood, laughing together.

As the evening progressed, Y/n relaxed, enjoying the time he shared with Jesse. It had been a very long time since he'd connected with someone so effortlessly, and Y/n found himself hoping that this wouldn't be the last time they met up.

Y/n and Jesse ordered a rich chocolate soufflé to go and decided to split the bill, both insisting on contributing. As they walked out of Lepley's, they realized that their cars were parked on opposite sides of the lot. Jesse's eyes wandered to Y/n.

"Well, I think it's time we call it a night. Thank you for having dinner with me."

Y/n smiled. "Thank you for inviting me. It was definitely better than spending this day alone with a box of pepperoni pizza."

Jesse nodded, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day, Y/n."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse," he said.

And then, the two men parted ways. As Y/n walked to his car, he felt a sense of content. He was glad he had gone out tonight, and he could say that thoughts of his ex-boyfriend were no longer at the forefront of his mind. Despite the rocky start to his day with Stephen, the night with Jesse had ended on a good note.

Or so he thought.

Y/n had just unlocked his car door when he felt a hand cover his mouth and pull him backward. Startled, he tried to push his assailant off, but the person wouldn't let go, keeping a tight grip on him. He was dragged into an alley, and the arms around him finally released their grip. Y/n scrambled forward and turned to see who the fuck had dragged him in there.

And it was Stephen. Fucking. Strange.

"What the fuck Stephen?!" Y/n shouted, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Stephen remained silent, staring at Y/n angrily. He was pissed. Before Y/n could react, Stephen pushed him up against the wall, his hand wrapping around Y/n's throat, squeezing the sensitive area a bit.

The dark-haired doctor leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "Who was that guy you were having dinner with?"

"I... I was just hanging out with a friend."

"A friend?" Stephen's lip curled. "Is that what you call it? I saw the way you were looking at him. I won't tolerate cheating."

"You can't cheat on someone when you're not together, which we aren't!" Y/n felt drained by this entire situation. This dude was crazy and needs serious help.

"Oh, we’re together. Always," Stephen pressed his body against Y/n's and dry-humped him from the front. "and forever." Stephen then pressed his lips to Y/n’s. The kiss was aggressive, almost violent, and Y/n tried to pull away, but Stephen held him in place, his hand leaving Y/n's throat to grip his jaw. "You always did like it rough," he murmured against his mouth before pulling away with a grin.

But the grin soon faded as Y/n's foot connected with Stephen's groin, causing him to double over in pain and drop to the ground. Y/n seized the opportunity to run back to his car and drive away, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. As he turned off his car engine, entered his apartment, and dropped his keys on the table, Y/n's hands were still trembling.

This was the last straw for Y/n.

Tomorrow morning, Y/n is filing a report with Human Resources and if that didn't resolve the situation, he would consider transferring to a different department. This kind of behavior cannot continue.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n was up early the next morning, determined to meet up with HR before his shift started. He was going to put an end to this situation with Stephen once and for all. It was clear that Stephen had developed an unhealthy obsession with him, and the h/c-haired male refused to put himself in more situations like this.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, Y/n dressed in a sharp suit, ready to face the confrontation head-on. He was aware that presenting himself confidently and assertively would be important to being taken seriously. As he finished tying his tie, the news played in the background — something he usually ignored while getting ready for work. But this time, Y/n turned the volume up and his eyes were wide with shock at the reporter's words.

A picture of Stephen appeared on the screen, and the reporter explained that Strange had been involved in a major car crash, his vehicle flying off the road and crashing into a nearby riverbank. He had died from the accident last night.

Stephen was dead.

A mixture of emotions washed over Y/n, but the predominant feeling was... relief. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Stephen or his antics anymore, and he could go to work without always worrying about being harassed. A smile crept onto Y/n's features as he shut off the TV with a click of the remote. He no longer had to worry about talking to HR.

Today was going to be a great day at work. In fact, it turned out to be his best.

As the months passed, Y/n's life only improved. He finally finished paying off his student loans and upgraded to a four-bedroom house, ecstatic to move out of the city and away from the constant chaos that seemed to surround his old apartment building. He received a salary raise at work, took a vacation, and even adopted a golden retriever named Max to share his new home with. His life was great, and he's going to keep it like that.

Y/n was now sitting on his couch in the living room, channel surfing as his dog snoozed by his side. A huge storm raged outside, with lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, and rain pouring down. He had just found a channel to settle on when the lights flickered and the TV shut off.

"Damn this storm," Y/n muttered.

With a sigh, the man grabbed his phone and headed toward the basement. When he reached the circuit breaker, he flipped the switch, and his lights came back on.

Y/n returned upstairs, but he felt too tired to stay up any longer. He had been dozing off before the lights went out, so he decided to go to bed. After changing into his pajamas, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and let out a small scream. Stephen Strange was standing behind him, a smirk tainting his features. But when Y/n turned, no one was there.

He looked around the room, ensuring that no one was in his house, and shook his head, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. Stephen was dead; there was no way he could be standing here. It had to be his imagination or something.

With that thought, Y/n got underneath the covers and closed his eyes tightly. The sound of rain always helped him fall asleep faster. He entered the first stage, the twilight stage, when the man heard a weird noise that he couldn't describe. He opened his eyes to see an orange portal materializing on his bed. And he backed away very fast. What the hell was that? Just then, he was sucked into the portal, only to find himself... back in his room?

Y/n blinked. He realized that he was, indeed, back in his own bedroom, but something felt off. How had he fallen through some sort of portal in his room, only to end up back in the same place?

"Leave it to you to make pajamas look sexy, Y/n," a familiar voice commented.

The h/c-haired male stilled, recognizing the voice. No, no, no, that can't be right.

But, sure enough, when Y/n turned, there stood Stephen Strange. He was alive...? And wearing some sort of cloak.

"W-What are you doing here? They said you died in the car crash," he stammered.

Stephen threw his head back in laughter as if that idea was totally preposterous. "Well, technically, I did die in the crash, I was saved, thanks to surgery. I went to Kamar-Taj, became a wizard, and all that good stuff. The Sorcerer Supreme here."

Y/n couldn't believe this. How had this guy managed to do bad shit and become a wizard? It seemed unfair. Y/n tried to take a step back, wanting to put more distance between them, but Stephen held up his hand, and Y/n's lower body froze. He couldn't move the lower half of his body — no matter how hard he tried.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Y/n tried to run but, once more, couldn't do it.

"Just something to ensure you don't run off on me," Stephen explained, walking towards Y/n until he was standing right in front of him, eyes glancing at Y/n lips. "You know, I've missed the taste of you."

Before he could speak, Stephen's mouth captured his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/n couldn't move his lower body, but he could still move his face, so he turned his head to the side. Stephen gripped his jaw, forcing Y/n to maintain eye contact, and continued his relentless, demanding kiss. Finally, Stephen pulled away, his breathing ragged. "Tell me you love me," he whispered, cupping Y/n's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking Y/n's cheeks.

Y/n shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps, "I hate you so much, man."

The wizard paused, his eyes darkening. "You hate me?" he repeated slowly, his voice low and dangerous. And he looked furious, pissed. With a wave of his hand, Y/n was thrown on the bed and landed with a thud. Stephen climbed on top of him, pinning his arms against the bed. "You hate me after everything I've done for you? After everything I've given you?"

"Yes, I do," Y/n breathed out truthfully. "Because you're fucking crazy, Stephen."

"Now, that’s one thing we can agree on," Stephen released his right hand to run his finger over Y/n’s jawline. "I’m crazy for you, and you are going to love me."

Then, something weird began happening to Y/n. Longing and desire engulfed him, his thoughts filling with images of the person he hated most. No matter how hard he tried to think of someone else, his thoughts kept returning to Stephen.

"What," Y/n shook his head as if he was trying to shake whatever was happening to him off. "What did you do to me?" His vision was starting to become blurry.

"Rest now, my love. We'll talk later,"

Y/n soon slipped into unconsciousness, his mind clouded with confusion and a growing sense of unease for the future.

Stephen smiled as he watched Y/n fall into a deep sleep, his breath evening out. He moved to place Y/n's head in his lap, gently stroking his hair. Even asleep, Y/n looked good, just as he was that night.

The Sorcerer Supreme's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night with Y/n, the night that had changed everything. He remembered the way Y/n had looked at him across the crowded bar, their eyes locking briefly before Y/n quickly looked away, taking another sip from his drink. Stephen had known in that instant that Y/n was interested, and their amazing night together had only confirmed his theory—they were meant to be together. That night was literal proof of their love.

When Stephen had woken up the next morning to find Y/n gone, he had been confused about his whereabouts. But he had shrugged it off, absolutely certain that he would see his lover again soon.

And when he saw Y/n in the lounge, he couldn't resist coming up behind him and kissing his neck. God, Y/n's skin had felt so good against his lips, and he had the sudden urge to take Y/n right then and there. But Y/n had surprised him by saying that their night together had been a mistake. There was no way that night could've been a mistake. It was perfect.

Stephen knew that Y/n was only saying that because he was scared — scared of getting into another relationship. And that was okay. Stephen would give him the space he needed because he knew that deep down, Y/n felt the same way.

So, he had given him space, settling for watching him like a hawk from afar. But when Valentine's Day rolled around, the best holiday for couples, Stephen knew it was the perfect opportunity to spend some time together. Y/n had more than enough time to get over that stupid ex, and now it was their time to be together.

Stephen had also decided to get Y/n some generic Valentine's Day gifts, chocolates, and flowers, and planned to take him to a fancy restaurant in the city. But once again, Y/n didn't want to go out with him, which was starting to piss him off. After all, they were boyfriends after their night together, so why did Y/n keep insisting that they weren't? It's annoying.

However, what was even more annoying was discovering that Y/n was going on a date with someone else. Someone who wasn't him. Stephen's blood had boiled with unruly anger. How dare he cheat on him like this? He wouldn't stand for it.

The surgeon hadn't thought twice before he pulled Y/n into an alley after his date and scolded the man for cheating. Y/n was clearly playing hard to get, wanting to make him jealous, and it was working. Stephen was going to show Y/n exactly who he belonged to, which had resulted in a kick to the groin. That had been painful, but he had recovered quickly and hopped into his car to follow Y/n. He wouldn't let Y/n escape his grasp.

That's when he got into a car accident and died briefly during surgery before being brought back to life. He was then taken to Kamar-Taj, where Stephen had become the Sorcerer Supreme and the Master of the Mystic Arts. Pretty cool.

Throughout his time there, one person remained at the forefront of his mind.

Y/n.

Stephen had also realized that his love for Y/n was still strong, and he knew that Y/n loved him as well, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Now that he was a wizard, he was going to use his abilities to bring Y/n to his new home.

And that's exactly what he did.

Stephen brought Y/n to his new home near the Sanctum, using magic to make the inside of the home identical to Y/n's old room. He knew that Y/n would love him for the time and effort he put into making sure everything was just right.

Once again, Y/n surprised him by saying that he hated him, which frustrated him.

Was it that hard for Y/n to accept their love? Well, if he wanted to be stubborn, Stephen would have to make him see it. He cast a spell, a love spell, to ensure Y/n's devotion. It was his way of making Y/n see the truth — they belonged together.

Y/n woke up sometime later, yawning. His eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Stephen, sitting next to him.

"Are you okay, my love?" Stephen asked, fingers tracing patterns on Y/n's cheek.

Y/n smiled lovingly at Stephen, his pearly white teeth flashing. "Of course, I'm okay. I get to wake up every day next to you, handsome." He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Stephen's neck, pulling him into a nice, loving hug.

Stephen's smile was victorious, and he melted into the embrace, his arms coming around to possessively wrap around Y/n's waist. Y/n was finally his, and he had finally admitted that he loved Stephen as much as Stephen loved him.

He knew that some might call him obsessive or even delusional, but he didn't care. He did nothing but help Y/n see the truth. In his eyes, Y/n was his and his alone. He would do whatever it took to keep it that way, no matter what. After all, what’s life without a little danger?

XXXXX XXXXX

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