#let them suffer a few more bad ends before they get it right

[andr0nap-02]

FINISHED THE QUEST FINALE! what a quest holyshit. THANK YOU DE

[satorena]

✮⋆˙ I LUV WHEN WE GET FREAKY ON CAMERA !?

featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento x afab!reader

warnings. cybersex, camgirl!reader, facetiming, onlyfans account, dirty talking, usage of toys, reader wears lingerie, fingering, anal play, consented video taping, feminine pet names, let’s pretend toji has money okay? okay.

rena’s note. big shoutout to my dawgs @screampied ! would’ve suffered a bad writer’s block if not for them <3 ly pooks

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“yeah baby~ fuck, arch your back just like that—shit!”

you complied to his request, moaning as you arch your back and push your hips backwards, deepening the angle of which your dildo penetrated inside of you.

from your facetime call, you faced the camera and propped your dildo to the wall behind you. you watched as your ass recoiled like waves, flesh bouncing off the wall in hypnotic motions, giving your boyfriend the pov he demanded at the start of this call.

you watched through your laptop screen as your boyfriend held his cock tightly with one hand, his other hand propped at the back of his head. his stomach clenched tightly as he matched your pace with his jerks. your wet squelches filled the atmosphere followed by your moans, arms stretched out to claw at the silk sheets on your bed.

“mmh—fuck baby, wish you were h-here right now,” you whine, bringing your fingertips to your lolled out tongue, coating the digits with your saliva, before slipping them between your thighs to focus on your neglected clit.

drawing figure eights to the bundle of nerves, your cheek smushed against the mattress, face heating and tears streaking down your cheeks.

bottom lip tucked in his teeth, gojo narrows his cerulean eyes to zero in on your figure, the sounds of your creamy pussy rocking back and forth on your dildo, your teary eyes watching him with such want— and fuck if he doesn’t wish this conference meeting overseas would end so he could blow your back out.

“i know, ‘m sorry— hah, princess,” he whines, thumbing his leaking slit as the hand behind his hair starts to grip at his own locks. the stinging feeling reminded him of you and it only turned him on further.

“just a f—few more days, yeah? and i’m all yours, promise baby, wait out for me,” he prods further, upset at the fact he has to reach out to you virtually. even behind the low quality of your camera, you shone like an angel sent from heaven, lashes wet with tears and your lips glistening from your smeared gloss.

you nod your head, before fluttering your eyes close as your gut begins to coil. your limbs grow hot and limp, toes curling and you up the pace of your rocking, the drag of the customized silicone dildo against your velvety walls stretching you in ways that reminded you an awful lot of your boyfriend.

“toru—fuck, i’m cumming!” you arch your back deeper, chest pressed flat against the mattress, fingernails scratching the softness of your sheets.

gojo had been on the brink of an orgasm eons ago, but he held back for you. to him, nothing beat busting a nut at the same time you did. his snowy white hair matted to his forehead, cheeks flushed a pretty red as he now focuses on his stiff cock with two firm hands.

he mimics circular motions you usually do, fighting to keep his eyes open as his orgasm washes over him just from the sight of your cries alone. your body shudders, your own orgasm washing over you from head to toe as you mewl out his name, spraying your juices all over the wall behind you and down your plush thighs.

your back arches outwards and you’re drooling all over yourself but gojo doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier in his entire life.

“shit—oh fuck, cum for me princess, make a mess all over—ngh, yourself for me—my perfect fuckin’ girl.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“welcome back everyone~”

there was something terribly sinful in the way the girl currently clothed in skimpy lingerie, fingers rubbing at her pussy in lazy circles with a dildo to her lips, tip of the toy teasingly grazing at her pink tongue—was also the same girl toji paid money to babysit his kid whenever he was away at work.

toji was no good man. this was definitely wrong on many personal levels, but alas he was still a man, if the way his dick hardened painfully quick at the sound of your honeyed voice alone.

he shifts in his chair, leaning back into it as he palms his hard on through his sweats. he watches with narrowed green orbs as you finally swallow the silicone toy down your throat, the dildo lubed in your saliva whenever it came out of contact from your mouth.

“wishin’ it was your fat cock instead, mmh,” you swirl your tongue around the dildo, before arriving to the tip and latching your plump lips around it.

you simultaneously increase the speed at your folds, fingers soon growing sticky with your essence as the obscene wetness fills the room. you moan around the toy, spreading your lips for the camera while clenching around nothing.

dick long freed from his pants and tucked tightly in his fist, toji groans as he watches your pretty pussy flutter and basically beg for him to fill you up. he hacks up some spit and drips it down on his girthy length, before roughly going back to jerking at his dick.

“i wonder which one of my lucky viewers is gonna get to fuck me next live?” you breathlessly giggle, before lowering the dildo in your free hand to your gaping cunt.

your comments flood with praises and pleasantries, with money flowing in easily—anything to capture your attention and have you notice them. they’re desperate, toji thinks, but realizes he’s definitely no better—hands already moving to donate a much bigger sum than whatever pussydestroyer69 could ever offer you.

“ooh, four bills is a hefty amount,” you tilt your head to the side, your pretty lips stretched in a perfect smile. you giggle when the comments start to insult toji but he’s too far enamoured in the way your free hand now travelled to your breast, groping at the mounds and flicking at your stiff buds.

you return to the regular programming, pressing the tip of your dildo to your cunt, dragging it up and down your wet folds, teasing yourself with your legs spread open for the viewers to see.

“fuck— this feels amazing, mmh, ‘m sooo sensitive,” you whine, applying a small amount of pressure to slightly push the tip in but pull it back out.

this was torturous— your thong pushed to the side to reveal your puffy lips as it leaked your essence. toji let his mind run to how badly he wanted to taste you. he was sure you’d be as sweet as honey, a potent taste on his tongue, and the thought of you face down with your ass up, begging for him to eat you out had his balls tightening with eagerness.

“fuckin’ shit— what a tease.” toji grunts, throwing his head back as he rubs the callouses at his palms against his veiny skin. his hips jerked up in anticipation, feeling his limbs run hot while his thumb circled at his reddened tip.

“y’wanna fuck my gaping pussy? yeah, ‘m all wet and tight just for you— hnng, bet i’d have you cumming quicker than you ever had~” you taunt, and finally push the toy all the way in, moaning at the stretch of the toy at your pussy.

your toes curl and you tighten your hold at your tits, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of your cunt, the slick sound of the friction enticing toji as he matches your pace, fanged teeth biting down at his bottom lip.

you pout your bottom lip, small whines escaping your throat as you fuck yourself desperately. “feels’good— shit, need you to fuck me daddy!”

call him delusional but he felt you spoke to him and not the rest of these bums, legs opened and pussy clenching down at the dripping toy, as your hips rocked upwards to try and meet the dildo for further pleasure.

the telltale of his dick twitching uncontrollably told he was on the brink of an orgasm, one that has him cursing incessantly and brings sweat to his hairline. he pries his eyes open, refusing to miss out on how your folds get abused by yourself, multitasking between thrusting inside and attacking your clit.

“‘m gonna cum daddy—please lemme cum—ngh!” you plead, and as if some force between the two of you is pulled, you spray your essence all over yourself, slick dripping down your sheets and wetting your lingerie, staining your panties soaked as toji calls out your name, hips bucking into his tight fist as ropes of hot cum are pulled out of him.

“there we go baby—damn, keep creamin’ just like that.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

“c’mon mama—don’t you let up, fuck, keep bouncin’ f’me.”

you whined some more, thighs aching and trembling from your consistent riding mixed with the added stimulation to your rim from your gifted anal plug. behind you was geto’s set up, computer camera propped as your back faced it, with geto seated at the edge of the bed.

hands planted firmly onto his chest, you stabilized yourself as you continued to rock your hips, dragging yourself up and down on his inches of dick, feeling his hardness stretch out your walls.

“sugu, ‘s too much— shit, want you to fuck me already!” you moaned, leaning your head downward to his broad shoulders, forehead slippery with sweat.

geto chuckled at your neediness, clicking his tongue as he lands a firm slap to your reddened ass. you all but moaned, hips moving back and forth as you clenched your mounds around his cock.

“but baby,” geto complains mockingly, slipping his hand in between your bodies and thumbing at your swollen clit. “y’wouldn’t wanna disappoint your fans, would ya?”

as he spoke, he glanced over your shoulder to check the comment section, as it was filled with numerous donations, praises as well as degradations. the more his viewers donated money to him, the quicker the toy plugged in your ass vibrated.

the triple stimulation had your brain gone to mush, your golden spot brutally toyed with as the foreign but pleasurable feeling in your puckered hole stretched it out, added with the circles at your bundle of nerves, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“uhn uhn,” you shake your head, all but against the idea of ruining his live stream simply because you were tired. more than anything, you wanted to cum, even if it had been in the most torturous way you could think of.

“that’s my good girl,” geto presses his lips at the crane of your head. his praise sends tingles in your belly, core licking with heat. his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, groping the soft mounds as encouragement, the actions causing a shift in the toy to be pushed slightly deeper inside of you.

“f-fuck—don’t do that, i’ll cum!” you complain, arching your chest into his, sensitive nipples brushing into his own.

the creamy mess at the base of his cock clearly accessible to the viewers sent a massive amount of money right into geto’s account and straight to your ass, as you jolted into his hold, clinging your arms around his neck.

“holy shit—one thousand?” geto asks breathlessly, followed by immediate more pinging indicating more donations. “you’re a hit baby—they fuckin’ love this pussy. too bad it’s all fuckin’ mine though, hah,”

you’re flattered by it all, and hit with a final wave of confidence before you’re sure the dam in your gut will snap, you push him back to lay on his bed. geto watches you with a cocked brow and smug smile, baby hairs messily framing his flushed skin.

“oh?” he asks, amused by the sudden turn of events. he never lets go of your hips, instead tightening his hold on you as you plant your feet to the mattress.

you hop up and down, his dick nearly slipping by how far up you rode him, with your palms pressed against the plane of his abs. feeling tears build up at your lash line, you moan and wail, dick penetrating deep into your cunt deliciously.

“fuckin’ ride this dick, ‘s all yours mama—shit, gonna make me cum all inside that pretty pussy, mmh. give it all t’me,”

it doesn’t take much between his constant praising, the slickness of your wetness around his cock and the additional vibrations to your ass to have you cumming hard around him. you clamp your walls down, momentarily pausing your riding as you let it take over your entire body.

geto comes through, hips bucking upwards to further your orgasm and you’re sure you momentarily blacked out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“what a pretty fuckin’ face baby, all mine. goddamn, ‘s too bad your biggest fan won’t get to see it— ain’t that right, satoru?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“k-kento—oh fuck daddy, ‘s so fucking deep!”

his wrist ached as he worked his way up and down his cock, tip throbbing an angry red. he watched himself hold your waist with one grip of his hand, the other propped up to film the lewd scenery, capturing you in all your glory.

nanami maintained a steady focus, pistonning into your cunt at a ruthless pace, a ruthless angle, and judging by the sound of your broken moans, he was thrusting into that spot that had you seeing stars and slurring your words.

on the screen showed you face down with your ass up, hands bind by his tie behind your back, face planted into his bed as he fucked into you passionately. your pussy gripped onto his cock greedily, sucking him in as the ripples of your ass bounced on his pelvis.

“my perfect girl, fuck, keep taking it just like that.” his large hand held at your waist firmly, bottoming out just to pull out all the way to where your lips latched at his tip, coating his dick in your creamy essence.

his hand made it to the top of his shaft, and when the screen presented him an erotic view of both your body fluids— semen, juices, sweat— sticking between both your damp skin, where you lowered yourself on his cock and where he pushed forward to fasten the process, his thumb grazed over his slit tauntingly, the same way he’s seen you done it dozens of times.

it’d never occur to him that watching himself plow into you would turn him on so, but you were so far away and he was immensely turned on.

his button down now unbuttoned, his chest heaved up and down as he panted heavily, sliding his other hand down to cup at his balls, the way you’ve done to him so many times. he winces at the feeling, dick painfully hard as it twitches in his hold.

“holy fuck— my perfect fuckin’ girl, shit.” he groans, narrowing his eyes to focus on the hypnotic sight that had his erection crying impossibly further.

the sight of you unable to do anything but take his dick like the slut you were made to be for him had him curling his feet and thighs tremble rather quickly. your fingers twitched as you begged him to free you, to let you touch him, but all that resorted to was your ass getting slapped for your disobedience.

“behave princess.” nanami warned you while rubbing his hand at the reddened skin, and you whined a ‘m so sorry daddy but obeyed nonetheless, and whatever kink triggered in nanami activated, as he jerked off faster, desperate to chase that release.

in the video, nanami pulled his dick out momentarily, causing you to cry out at your pussy’s emptiness. lowering the camera to your abused cunt, your pink walls gaped and clenched around nothing, practically calling out for him to fill the void. he chuckles behind his phone, before grabbing at his cock and lining himself at your entrance, teasing your folds by dragging his tip up and down before bottoming out again.

“fuckin’ hell, i need you right now,” nanami cussed, wanting nothing more than to feel your warmth around his cock instead of his own hand, to feel you clamp and suck him into your pussy, to have you squirt on his cock and still beg him for more despite your sensitivity.

between the pornographic sight of your cunt clenching down on his cock, your asshole winking at him, the recoil of your ass onto him and the sinful arch of your back, nanami soon painted his fist white in his cum, head thrown back as he was overtaken by an orgasm.

“damn it—shit, just like that princess—keep gripping onto me, gonna fill that pretty pussy full of my cum.”

yes, gojo was the generous donator on geto’s live stream. pervert

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Cherry-flavoured

girl dad & husband (in that specific order)!Choi Seungcheol x wife!Reader

Genre: fluff, sickfic

Word Count: 1,400

Warnings: the flu; Seungcheol is down bad for his two girls; reader despises cherry-flavoured medicine

[Domestic AU] When both of his girls fall sick at the same time, Seungcheol is more than happy to take care of them both - no matter how difficult they are.

The kettle had barely finished when Seungcheol heard your voice calling out, “Can I get my tea yet?”

“You don’t even like tea that much,” he scoffed under his breath, careful not to be heard, before responding louder, “Just a moment, honey!”

He waited for a response and it soon came. A sniffling sound. A sneeze. But even then your pout was practically audible in your reply: “I don’t like honey.”

He sighed. The hot steam of the water was making his nose runny even now, a whole three days after his recovery from the flu. Still he carried on, adding spoonfuls of honey into two cups of tea. With the utmost care, he picked out the best looking cookies from the box (one Mingyu had so kindly brought over after hearing of your family’s predicament) and added them to the tray, right beside a small box of flu medicine.

To the sound of sniffles, coughing and whines of suffering, he steadily picked up the tray and began his journey upstairs. The ticklish feel of the cat scurrying past his ankles almost threw him off his balance. Just as he regained it, another fluffy creature practically flew past him – Kkuma stopped on the top step to look back at him, judging him for his slowness – but soon he reached the top of the stairs with a sigh of relief. 

The relief was temporary though because the moment he reached the 2nd floor, he was bombarded with complaints.

“What’s taking you so long, dad?” sounded from the bedroom to the right. It was followed by shuffling, a soft greeting for the cat, and more whining. “You promised to fix my TV!”

He took a moment to wonder when his little girl had started calling him ‘dad’. It sounded so formal and affectionless compared to the nicknames she’d given him in the past. 

But it was clear where his journey would take him next. Cautiously, he made his way to Minah’s bedroom. The door got stuck before he could fit himself through. He resisted the urge to forcefully rest his head against the doorframe. 

“Minah, princess, I told you I’d fix your TV after you clean your room,” he pointed out as he tried to shove the door further open without much success. It was harder to do this with no free hands and even he wasn’t bold enough to try to balance the tray with only one hand. “Where do you even walk?”

“I climb the walls like spiderman.”

His brows furrowed: that sounded an awful lot like talking back! Seungcheol wasn’t entirely sure whether she was just loopy from the fever or if it was time to stop letting the members babysit his daughter.

“Well, what’s daddy supposed to do?” he asked once he finally managed to break into the room. The tray remained mostly dry and he considered that a win. “I can’t climb the walls.”

There was a glint of mischief in his daughter’s eyes. “I’ll clean the room if you fix my TV.”

That was it, Seungcheol decided. He was done having children. If a few days ago he had wondered how to bring up the idea of having a second child with you, the desire now swiftly left as he realised his fate: endless circular arguments that would somehow always end with him folding around his little girl’s finger. 

He placed a cup of steaming tea and half the cookies on her bedside table. When she inevitably reached to take one (for she was only a girl; one with a sweet tooth), he let out a warning noise and handed her a spoonful of cough syrup. “Medicine first, candy second.”

His eight-year-old daughter offered him a look that called him dumb in five languages. The white cat in her lap seemed to match her sentiment. “Cookies aren’t candy, dad.”

“They’re chocolate-chip,” he retorted, already feeling his eyes widening with annoyance, “and chocolate is candy.”

“No, chocolate is chocolate,” she corrected him with a giggle that was soon interrupted by a coughing fit. 

Seungcheol felt himself soften at the sight. His free hand reaching out to brush her hair out of her face as she blew her nose, he patiently waited with the spoon still in his hand. Once she looked at him again, eyes red-rimmed and filled with exhaustion, he offered her a gentle smile. “Your medicine, princess?”

Her hand reached upwards towards the spoon. She hesitated. “Do I have to?”

“Do you want to get better?” he countered, raising a brow.

She groaned and looked up to her ceiling covered in plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. Clearly he hadn’t realised how difficult of a question that was to answer. “But then I’ll have to go back to school.”

“Don’t you want to see your friends?”

Once again he was on the receiving end of that look she had perfected – the one that called him old and dumb and boring. “I chat with them all the time.”

It was time to bring out the big guns – the one thing (a person, really) he hated to speak of but always seemed to get her to do what was needed. He squeezed his eyes shut as he braced himself to say the words: “If you get better, you can see Yongho again.”

The spoon was out of his grasp and in Minah’s mouth before he could open his eyes again. Defeated, he sighed and handed her a cookie in return for the newly empty spoon.

“Will you fix my TV now?” she then had the audacity to ask. 

And Seungcheol couldn’t even say no. 

He nodded and left the room with the tray in his hands, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll get mom her medicine first and then I’ll fix your TV.”

She cheered and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Seungcheol?” he then heard your voice call. “How long does it take to make tea?”

He entered the room with a chuckle. “There’s only one of me, you know? And someone has to take care of the little one as well.”

“The little one,” you snorted at the nickname. “Honey, she’s eight. She has a boyfriend. You need to come up with a new nickname soon.”

“God, don’t even remind me about the boyfriend,” he groaned as he placed the tray down. “It should be illegal to date before the age of 30.”

Amused, you raised an eyebrow. 

“For her anyway,” he added with a pout. “And she’ll always be my little one.”

“Even when Yongho asks her to prom?” you teased, sitting up just as he made himself comfortable sitting on the bed. “Even on her wedding day?”

He stared at you. Then his eyes narrowed. “You’re just saying things to annoy me, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one that took your sweet time making my tea.” You reached for the cup. “My throat is so scratchy. I hate being sick.”

Golden opportunity. “If you don’t want to be sick, you should take some medicine.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the venomous glare you sent his way. 

“I think I would rather just succumb to the flu,” you told him and he was sure you meant it. 

But he had vowed to stay with you through sickness and health, and then he had sworn to your mother that he wouldn’t let you be sick when he could help it – really, he had a duty to fulfill here. “You’re setting a bad example for Minah, you know?”

“She’s not even in the same room–”

“MINAH, YOUR MOM’S NOT TAKING HER MEDICINE!” he bellowed right then and there, confident that he would receive a response that would force you to accept your fate. 

Seconds later, a loud – slightly wheezing – yell sounded from the other bedroom, “MOM, YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

You grimaced under his self-satisfied stare. “Fine, but it better not be the cherry-flavoured one.”

He put extra effort into hiding the label from you as he poured a spoonful of the syrup and handed it to you. “Drink up.”

You did as told. Then glared at him with viciousness he rarely had the pleasure of seeing. “You just had to get the cherry-flavoured syrup, didn’t you? Traitor.”

“I love you too!” He offered an apologetic smile in return, placed a soft kiss to your cheek, and made a swift exit. 

Suddenly fixing Minah’s TV didn’t sound so tedious after all.

Note: I wrote this when my bestie @haoboutyou was sick and then she proceeded to begged me "150 times" to share this with y'all, so here we are, I guess. I hope this brought a bit of joy into someone's day! <3

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (6)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: life comes at ya fast…updates will come as I have more inspo and time to write. :) this is unedited

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: cunnilingus, slight coercion (but is it really if she wants it?).

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Midweek comes around slower than you’d like and it feels as though your days are dragging on the more you try to tie up loose ends and review resumes of potential candidates. 

Sunghoon has agreed to transfer some of the responsibilities onto the secretaries for the time being. They’ll be responsible for attending meetings in-office and other tasks that can be taken off of your plate as you focus on what’s at hand. 

“Are you any closer to finding me a new assistant?”

He asks this at least once every few hours. He’ll do it when he hears you typing away on your keyboard or when you’ve neglected to hear him call you from the door. Sunghoon says it with a smile that looks too playful for your liking. 

“Not any closer than I was since the last time you asked me.” 

“Shame. But perfection takes time, doesn't it?”

You roll your eyes. “Come in and close the door, will you? It’s hot as shit outside and you’re letting all of my cold air out.” 

“Maintenance is working on fixing the air conditioning in the main areas. My office isn’t as cold as yours, I’ll say that.”

“Maintenance likes me better.”

“Nuh uh.” 

You look up from your monitor. “What are you, a child?”

“Maybe.” You roll your eyes again and focus back on your work. “Any candidates I should know about?”

“Are you asking me because you’re interested or because you’re bored?”

“Is there any difference?”

“Yes. You either care about who’s going to take over my position once I’m gone, or you enjoy watching me suffer by being in my presence.” 

“The latter, actually. You’re cute when you’re angry at me.” You scowl at him. “See? Cute.” 

“I’m not cute.”

“You say that, and yet you are.” 

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re really cute, especially with my hand between your legs.” Your face grows hot and Sunghoon grins when he realizes he’s rendered you speechless. 

“If you aren’t going to be of any help, might as well go back to your office and do your job.” 

Sunghoon puts both hands up. “Alright, alright. I did come here with the intention of an update, though. Heeseung mentioned you’ve made some progress when I saw him earlier this morning.” 

“Some. I’ve been getting hundreds and hundreds of applications, and it’s getting hard to sift through all of them.”

“What kind of things are you looking for?” 

“Experience, mostly. Someone who meets half of these qualifications and won’t be an ass about it.”

“Got any contenders?” 

“I haven’t met with anyone yet, so I can’t be so sure right now. I’m in correspondence with some to meet at the office next week for an initial interview before I decide.”

“How many interviews?”

“Three. One introduction, a second so they can see the office, and a third with you.”

“With me?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, you. I need you to like your assistant.” 

“The way I like you?”

You near your throat. 

“I surely hope not.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I just need an assistant who can handle the job and not complain about it too much.” 

“That’s the goal.”

“Who are you meeting with next week?” 

“Cho Miyeon’s coming on Monday morning and Kang Taehyun will be coming the same afternoon.”

“Yang Jungwon on Tuesday too, huh?” Sunghoon peers over your shoulder and stares at your calendar. “You’ve got a busy week.”

“I’m doing my best. My workload is being shared while I look for my replacement, so it’s not too bad. Don’t get any ideas and add things on my docket, though.”

“Well…”

You sigh. “Sunghoon, please. I’m trying to be diligent and do right by you, but you’re making me want to quit on the spot.” 

“Hear me out at least, okay?” 

Sunghoon sits on the edge of your desk and sees the top button of your blouse unbuttoned. It’s not enough for him to see your bra underneath, but his mouth runs dry thinking about it. 

“It’s our turn to choose a restaurant for the next quarterly dinner party. As you know, it’s important because we as a company build internal connections and reward those who work under us with an all expenses paid meal.”

“Plus quarterly bonuses from the respective employers.”

He nods. “Yes, plus the bonuses. Anyway, I’ve booked a reservation at a highly rated Spanish place that serves tapas style for tonight. Cool, huh?” 

“You cannot seriously expect me to drop my plans to work.” 

“You don’t have plans.”

“Okay, fair point. But Pochi, Sunghoon. And I don’t want to work!”

“We won’t be out until late into the evening, if you’re worried about feeding her. We’ll leave the office early and I’ll have you home before nine. And you won’t be working. Not really.” 

“Asking me to try food for a work event is considered work.”

“Just come with me, okay? If you like it, we’ll host the party there. If not, we try another one on the list.”

“What list?”

Sunghoon merely smiles but he doesn’t explain further. “Don’t worry about it. Get yourself hungry and we’ll leave at five.”

“You, leaving work at five…”

“Early, I know.” Sunghoon laughs. “So what do you say?”

“I say you want me to ignore all of my tasks and distract me with food. Why can’t you go with another assistant who actually gives a shit about this party?”

“Because I care about your opinion, not theirs.” 

“I don’t have time to entertain this when it’s not on my immediate priority list. You can bring Jongseong to dinner, for all I care. He’ll appreciate that more than me.” 

Before you know it, he’s on the floor and turning your chair to face him. 

“Sunghoon!” 

He situates himself between your legs and spreads them apart by pushing your knees away. His fingertips gently touch your skin and inch up the skirt you’re wearing, pushing the fabric up your thigh. Your resolve seems to crumble when you see him like this and look around hastily. 

“W-What are you doing?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t speak. He looks at you and smiles like he knows something you don’t.

“My window is open,” you say in a haste, trying to push his hands away from your legs. 

Sunghoon merely laughs and leans down to press a kiss to the inside of your knee while maintaining eye contact. You sit frozen in your chair as you watch him stand, eyes trained on his semi-hard cock outlined in his trousers. He makes no fuss and faces the windows to close the blinds before turning back to look at you.

“Better?” 

All you can do is nod. Sunghoon drinks you in with his eyes. His gaze starts at the bottom of your heels until you feel his stare drag up your body, locked in on the flesh of your collarbones until his eyes meet yours. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when he’s looking at you like that, never mind the fact that the outline of his dick is practically at eye level. 

He brings his hand to his mouth and rubs his jaw, huffing something you can’t quite make out. He then resumes his positions on his knees and this time, you don’t complain when Sunghoon pries your legs apart. 

“Can I try to convince you?” he asks in a sultry tone. His voice might as well be made of soft velvet and you find yourself nodding. “Yeah? Can I have my way with you right here?” 

Sunghoon has his answer when you widen your legs before him and parts his mouth like he’s in awe. He observed the way your skirt rides up your thighs even more, then shifts his gaze to your covered cunt. Sunghoon looks like he might as well be high; his gaze is hyper focused between your legs and his well you panties mold to the shape of your cunt. 

His bottom lip becomes wet with his saliva and you’re almost positive that Sunghoon would start drooling the longer he looks at you. His hands delicately hold your ankles in place when you brush your thumb against the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re drooling.” Sunghoon looks up at you.

“I can’t help it,” he says, kissing the pad of your thumb. “You’re so perfect down here.” 

Your cheeks flush for the umpteenth time. Sunghoon’s hands move from your ankles to gently caress the outer skin of your calves before he brings one hand to push your skirt until it sits just below your waist. You lift your hips to help him and settle back down in your chair at a steep slouch. 

Sunghoon holds you there and you feel as if you’re being presented on a platter. Still unused to being like this in front of him, you resist the urge to close your legs to prevent yourself from being even more flushed than you already are. He pushes his face between your legs and gives one, long kiss to your covered slit. 

“So perfect.” Sunghoon mumbles against you, and you suck in a quick breath. He sticks his tongue out to taste the wet slick soaking from the fabric. “That’s really good.” 

Never in a million years would you have ever guessed how good Sunghoon looks on his knees. He’s brash and confident, proud and stoic. The ease in which Sunghoon fell to his knees knowing he’d see what you hide between your legs makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Sunghoon, who stands down for no one, kneels on his knees for you. 

He pulls your body down and brings his tongue all over your covered cunt. The surface of his tongue makes you clench against him and buck your hips. Sunghoon chases after it, pushing against you harder than merely grazing like he was previously. He licks a confident stripe and laps at your panties like a kitten drinking milk. 

His ginormous hands and caresses your outer thigh like he’s trying to make you relaxed and unashamed of the pleasure he wants to give you. You’re reminiscent of how you felt the morning Sunghoon’s hands were on you for the first time—nervous, excited, and extremely horny. 

When Sunghoon pulls your panties to the side to reveal your lap to him, he groans and his warm breath makes a shove run down your spine. He admires the way your pussy clenches in front of him and kisses your naked slit like he’s trying to reassure you.

“Relax, love. It’s just me.”

“Kind of hard to relax.” 

“Why?” Sunghoon kisses your slit once more and you sigh in contentment.

“I’m not used to people looking at me like this.” 

He looks up. “Get used to me between your legs.” 

When you deal with Sunghoon’s demands during working hours, you’re a force to be reckoned with. He’s stubborn and loves to fight back until you frustratingly give up or until you’ve backed him into a corner. You’re used to his hotheaded tendencies and never back down if you can help it.

But Sunghoon’s hands keep you locked before him so gently that it makes you think you’ve got nothing to worry about. His fingers caress your skin in a way that makes you tingle with excitement and lust, and it’s been a while since you’ve felt this way about anyone. 

He can feel your body respond to him when you loosen the tightness in your hips and let your legs fall beside him. Sunghoon’s mouth kisses your outer lips and avoids your clit, but the feeling is all the same when you haven’t been in this position in years. He takes his time, moving his plush and moistened lips across your skin like he’s mapping out every inch of you.

Sunghoon’s head moves to your inner thigh and his hair brushes your skin. His eyes remained closed as if to savor the taste of your body. You can’t seem to look at anything but him like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you close your eyes and allow yourself to lose yourself in his touch.

Feeling so exposed is out of your comfort zone. You feel completely naked in front of him despite wearing a blouse and a skirt, technically. The sheer act of intimacy, even if Sunghoon walks away from you forever after he’s done kissing you between your legs, still feels like more than a mere hookup like your previous experiences. 

Sunghoon is still fully dressed and you wonder if he’s as hard as he was before kneeling. Your mind races when he switches legs and kisses all the way to the inner portion of your knee, dabbing gentle pecks that makes your heart race much faster than you would’ve ever anticipated. 

He must know by now you’re as inexperienced as a woman your age could be. It’s never for the lack of trying; men leave you disappointed and the pool of new lovers falls short when you aren’t the type of person to lose yourself in strangers who will never love you back. Sunghoon touches you like he’s more than somebody you’ve worked with for the last six years. It scares and excites you all at once. 

His breath ghosts over your cunt before he sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe. It feels like the entire surface of his tongue covers the entirety without a single inch being undiscovered by his mouth, and the sensation makes your toes curl in your heels. It’s enough to make your back arch slightly. Sunghoon watches you and puts both of his hands at the side of your hips to keep you steady before him. 

Sunghoon takes his time and doesn’t rush it like you think he will. He sounded so desperate to get you to agree to come with him to dinner tonight. You were sure he’d get on both hands and knees like a dog to beckon you to come. The sense of urgency seems to have been tossed out the window when he closed the blinds. Despite being in your office and hearing faint sounds of the copy printed from outside the doors, you feel like it’s just the two of you existing in the same space. 

His tongue moves up and down your slit slowly. Sunghoon’s eyelashes are long and dark, fluttering against his cheek with every pass. You wonder if this is what he looks like when you’re kissing him. It’s unfair how sexy he looks when his tongue is coated in your slick and when he’s sighing against your pussy like this is a meal that has finally satisfied his craving. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs against you the second he pushes his tongue past your folds. The vibrations continue to add to your pleasure and you buck your hips against his face. 

“S-Stop talking.”

He chuckles. “I think you like it when I talk to you like this.”

You shake your head stubbornly. Sunghoon hums like he doesn’t believe you. His fingers dig into your hips to pull you closer to his face instantly, latching onto your cunt with the urgency you anticipated beforehand. He shoves his tongue deep inside of you to the point where you grip the handles of your chair until your knuckles feel sore. Your palms have grown sweaty and you fear you’re losing your grip on both the chair and your sanity. 

He looks up at you before taking one hand and putting it in his hair. It’s like a foreign instinct takes over. Your hand grips his hair until you’re holding his head in place. His eyes flicker back to yours before focusing on lapping up your wetness, no doubt coating the lower half of his face in it. 

There’s no real method he’s adhering to. It’s messy and growing louder by the second with his saliva mixing in with your juices. Sunghoon slurps you up like he’s trying to taste all of you at once and flexes his jaw to accommodate shoving his tongue inside of your folds and thrusting. 

Your legs eventually wrap around his shoulders and Sunghoon can feel your heel digging into his suit jacket. He doesn’t mind. You’re sure this encourages him to fuck you like this harder because his tongue moves in circles inside of you when your thighs keep his head locked in place. His dark brown eyes open to look right at you and the moans you’ve been holding in escape. 

Sunghoon moans against you too. Your whimpers and short breath sent the blood straight to his cock, but he knows this isn’t the time nor the place to make you moan the way he wants you to. He’ll take what he can get, but that single, deep moan that came from his tongue bouncing over your clit makes him think it would be worth it for everybody to hear you come.

He looks so good with your thighs suffocating his face. Sunghoon doesn’t complain, he just puts his hands on your thighs and squeezes you to keep them there. Your hips start to chase his mouth when you feel your orgasm building and when Sunghoon sees your chest heaving off of the chair, he keeps his steady position and flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. 

You don’t even realize your hips are rolling against his mouth until you come against Sunghoon’s tongue. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he laps it up, opening his mouth as best as he can with your legs still wrapped around his face. He moans when he tastes all you have to offer and bucks his hips to grind against the tightness of his slacks when he sees your eyes wired shut and mouth gaping. 

The grip on his hair loosens when your body relaxes and so does the grip on your legs. Your breath feels much heavier than before and when you open your eyes, Sunghoon’s looking at you with a drunken smile on his face. Your cheeks instantly heat up and you try to pry your legs back down, but he keeps you steady there and moves his head to kiss you on each thigh.

“You look so pretty when you come.”

“S-Sunghoon…”

“Yeah, love?” 

You blush harder. “You’re just…” 

“I’m just what?” 

You avoid eye contact. “You looked really hot.” 

He laughs and you feel his eyes still staring at you. Sunghoon lets go of your legs and helps settle them back down on the ground before pushing your panties back in its proper place. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand and sits on the back of his knees to help you regain balance and sit upright in your chair as you fix your skirt in an attempt to look decent. 

“You did so well for me,” he says, pushing upwards to kiss you. Your taste lingers on his lips. Sunghoon braces himself on your thighs and his palms feel comforting. 

“I-I can’t believe I let you do that in my office.”

“Such a rebel, hm?” Sunghoon chuckles between kisses before pulling back to look at you. “Did that convince you to come with me tonight?” 

You nod shyly. “I don’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who can be bribed by sex, though.”

“I don’t think that of you. Matter of fact, I know I had you reeled in when I told you I’d take care of the details.” 

“Hmph.”

“I ate you out because I wanted to.”

Sunghoon kisses you again before standing up. The sheer size of it makes your mouth water and you see the small, wet stain left by his precum. He watches you with fascination and watches your hand reach out with hesitation, pulling back before you’ll do something you might regret. 

He doesn’t force you to touch him, nor does he ask you to do anything in return. You watch him with hooded eyes and the sight of you looking up at him while he stands will fuel his dreams for days to come. 

“You’re hard.” 

“That I am.”

“All that from eating me out?”

He laughs. “You underestimate how much I’m attracted to you.”

Your eyes flicker up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So much that I ate your cute little pussy in your office.” 

You swat the side of his thigh and look away from him. “I…My pussy isn’t cute.”

“So cute and so tight. Felt it with my fingers and I felt it again with my tongue. Can’t help but wonder what it’ll feel like with my dick.” 

“Sunghoon!” 

“Too soon?” The blush on your face gives your desire away, but he laughs and backs off. 

“I have a pair of fresh slacks in my office. Let’s finish the rest of today and then we’ll head over for dinner, yeah?”

You raise your eyebrow. “You’re gonna walk out of my office while you’re hard?” 

“It’s like, two inches from yours.” 

“People could see.”

“Aw, are you worried about me?”

You huff. “Let people see how hard you get for me, for all I care.” 

Sunghoon smirks. “Atta girl. I think I just might.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like me to be.”

You don’t argue with him. You both know he’s right. He eventually makes his way to the front door and is about to leave before he comes back around your desk. Sunghoon takes you by surprise and leans down to kiss your lips once more before wordlessly exiting your office.

It takes a great deal of strength to stand up and open the blinds.

***

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[homeofthelonelywriter]

Not your Burden Prologue

"Are you sure you don’t want to move in with me?”

A smile spread on your lips, though it quickly shifted into a frown as you gently set down the heavy cardboard box, holding the rest of your belongings. It had been two months since your father’s monthly payments stopped. Two months since, no matter what you tried, you couldn’t reach your dad or anyone close to him. Two months since you’ve been trying to find a job, but no luck so far. In the end, you decided to move out of the apartment your dad had insisted on you renting, and moved into a smaller and cheaper one.

“Nah, I’ll be fine, I promise.” Your best friend frowned, concern painted across her face. For someone who was usually so carefree, she now looked like she was about to suffer a breakdown.

“I know you don’t like my roommates, but they aren’t so bad once you get to know them. And I’m really worried about leaving you here. This part of town just isn’t safe.” You chuckled and nodded. She was right after all.

The only place you could afford with the rest of your savings was in the part of town everyone was warned to stay away from. The part with the highest crime rate in the entire city. The part where just a few weeks ago, a dead college student had been found. But what were you to do? As much as you loved your friend, her male roommate was creepy and you didn’t like the way he looked at you. No way you’d survive moving in with them. So, the cheap apartment in the creepy part of town it was.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I have pepper spray and my dad had me learn self-defense. If anyone tries something funny, you’ll have to worry about him, not me!” A grin spread across your lips as you gave her a thumbs up, trying to look as confident as possible. In response, she just rolled her eyes.

“Fine, but…you better facetime me whenever you’re walking home. And have your location on at all times, you hear me?” You nodded and pulled out your phone, quickly turning the location share on, so she would stop worrying. As much as you loved her, it was starting to get repetitive.

Your friend continued to help you, before you ushered her out, telling her to get home safely and before it got dark out. Then you continued to move in, unpacking and slowly getting comfortable. Well…as comfortable as you could get when there were what felt like constant sirens and other noises you weren’t too happy to hear. Banging and moans from your next-door neighbors, screams and crashing from upstairs, and weird gurgling from the hallway. Good thing you had some noise-cancelling headphones, sounded like you would need them.

You had to admit, the first few nights, you didn’t sleep much. The noises and the general paranoia were enough to keep you up, but after a week or so, you got used to it. You put a knife on your nightstand, put a chair against the door, and glasses against the windows. To be honest, you developed your own little routine, which you quite enjoyed. And if you added the job hunt - which had still not been successful - and the work for college, you rarely had the energy to truly care about your situation at the end of the day.

Another week or so went by and you found yourself in the cafe on the campus, sending out more job applications, but it seemed like no one wanted to hire a college student who could only work odd hours. Frustration wafted through you, so you decided to grab another drink and quickly got in line, not paying attention to your surroundings. You promptly gave your order and went to pay, but before you could, the person behind you spoke up, “I got it.”, and before you could interject, they placed tapped their card, and your order was paid for.

When you turned around to thank the kind stranger, you quickly realized it wasn’t a stranger. “Mister Riley?”

Next Part

A/N: Since it's been almost a year since I posted the idea, let's try this. Let me know what you think!

@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld

[slashersdaddy]

Hiii! How would slashers react if their usually soft s/o ask them to kill someone for whatever reason?

OOOOHH I LOVE this idea!! give me a sec to whip something up!! (Post production edit: I'm so sorry it took so long! I had a long spell of creative rut!)

VARIOUS SLASHERS WITH SOFT S/O ASKING THEIR PARTNER TO KILL SOMEONE FOR THEM!

Includes: Jason, Micheal, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Charles Lee Ray, Freddy Krueger

AS ALWAYS MDNI! I AM AN 18+ PAGE! THANK YOU!

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was confused to say the least- you WANTED him to kill someone? What did that bastard do?

When you first come to Jason, your usually cheerful face set in grim determination, and almost resignation- he feared the worst, that you wanted to leave him.

But when you uttered the question, when you asked him to kill someone- his already dead heart felt like it may break again- what did they do? Why did you feel the need for him to kill them?

Does he need to make them suffer? How badly did they hurt you?

It may be overwhelming how many questions he asks (signs) you.

Of course in the end he will of course kill the person- if for nothing else than because he cares for you and your mental health.

He will set you up all cozy before he leaves to do the deed, leaving you with blankets and movies and hot cocoa.

Michael Myers:

No questions asked- he is out the door.

dont even expect to be able to explain WHY you want this guy/girl dead- he will already be grabbing his weapon and heading for the door.

Of course he will make it especially painful- they hurt his S/O after all.

But once its done, he'll slink home, wrapping his arms around you from behind and burying his face in your neck, still bloodied from the asshat who DARED make you upset.

And of course he would cuddle you close, silently holding you and stroking your tummy, low growls are expected if you try to get up at all.

he probably will keep you home for the next few weeks- for your 'protection'

and he does mean it!!!

he wants you safe!!

Even in his own fucked up way <3

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent will pause- eyes scanning you- thinking perhaps it was a joke

you HAD to be joking right?

but when he realized you weren't his stomach turned-

what the hell had this bastard done? clearly he didn't DESERVE to be immortalized- so of course Vincent wouldn't use him at all in his art

rather making Lester 'dispose' of the body quietly

he would make it painful- violent; much more than usual

Once the deed is done he will coddle you, showing you little sculptures, or if you are interested in art- draw and paint with you, his watchful gaze never leaving you- you were his messiah, his god/dess you were his everything-

he would make sure you were safe.

even though he would usually leave this to his brother, it's personal now

Lester Sinclair

Now Lester, he's taken off gaurd by this request, you his sweet lil angel cakes are asking him to off someone?

But of course he won't tell you no.

He will make sure to get his Bowie knife all ready to 'take ojt the trash'

He will ask how painful it should to be

If your crying when you ask, even more reason for him to make that bastard suffer worse than they made you suffer.

Bo Sinclair

Bo doesn't ask anymore questions.

All he needs to know is when where and who.

Of course he will make it painful

And of course he will make the fucker suffer, maybe he will even remove a few fingers to torture them.

He wants his partner happy, so hearing you ask him to kill someone sent him off the fucking rails.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba sees red

Why would you of all people want someone dead?

Unless they hurt you real bad.

That makes him really angry

He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt, let alone someone else hurting you so bad you don't want them alive anymore.

It will be painful

And slow

He knows how to kill fast, so it stands to reason if he doesn't hit vital points he can make them suffer longer

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy sees red, very similar to bubba

Except he will put on a full on manhunt for the fucker

Using more phycological methods first, stalking them like prey

Before snatching them up and ending them brutally

Charles Lee ray

An excuse to kill some sad mother fucker? Gladly.

But when he sees the tears in your eyes, the way you are shaking, it's personal.

It isn't any longer something to waste time.

This fucker hurt his partner.

This bastard dated touch what was his.

Honestly he will probably fillet the fucker

Freddy Krueger

He won't make it easy.

He will torment the bastard for weeks in their dreams before finally striking.

And of course he won't let you forget that you asked him to kill someone

Of course he is worried, he doesn't fully grasp what the sudden change was about, but he doesn't mind killing for you.

[leighsartworks216]

Eyedrops

Zayne x gn!Reader

Not my favorite, but I've had this in my notes since like the beginning of spring and I really wanted to finish it. Ending is very silly stupid, but it's cute, and that's what matters

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, swearing, established relationship, allergies, teasing, kissing

Word Count: 1,191

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third - Fourth LADs Masterlists

AO3

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The scratchy, itchy, dry, agonizing, irritating curse you're forced to suffer every spring. The flowers bloom, the air is warm, and your eyes are so. Fucking. Itchy.

You can't escape it. No matter how many allergy meds you go on, your eyes always, without fail, start to itch. Right in the inner corner.

And gods do you fight not to scratch. Squeeze your eyes tight and rub the skin around them. But you can't hold back forever.

So you scratch that itch. Dig the heels of your palms into the sockets. Press your fingers hard into the inner corners. Rub and rub and rub until you've soothed the ache - if only for a few seconds. And then it comes back. Burning more than before.

Zayne, of course, hates when you do that.

"You're going to make it worse," he chides. He grabs your wrists and pulls your hands from your face, exposing the red-raw, irritated skin and sclera of your eyes.

You blink pitifully at him through aggravated tears. "It itches so bad. I don't know what else to do, it just itches." You groan in frustration. Squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head, try to bend down and wipe them against your arm. He, of course, doesn't let you. You're at your wit's end. You almost sob. "I hate this... I hate it so much."

He shushes you softly, stoking his thumbs against your wrists to soothe you. "I know. I have some eyedrops in my bag. Would you like to try that?"

You grimace. It's just about the one thing you haven't tried to end your suffering. You hate them so much. You avoid them whenever you possibly can. You'll go to any lengths not to use them.

"I can put them in for you," he says as if he could read your mind. "Go lay down on the couch. And don't rub your eyes."

You'd prefer the itch over what's to come. But this is Zayne - Dr. Zayne. He won't just leave you to power through it, especially if there's solutions to your problem.

He lets you go and you're tempted to scratch it again. The overwhelming temptation is so strong. Too strong. While he goes to his work bag to fetch the drops, you trudge over to the couch and flop back onto the cushions, rubbing your index fingertips just beside the corner of your eye, along the sides of your nose. It doesn't really soothe the itch at all, but you try to pretend it does, if only to trick your body into believing it.

It doesn't work.

When he comes back, you're rubbing your eyes like a madman again. You can hear him sigh. He pulls one hand away, getting your attention so you can sit up and give him room to sit down. You lay back, head in his lap, eyes watering as you drop your hands back to your stomach.

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"It's okay." A cold washcloth brushes gently under your eyes, wiping away the tears and soothing your raw skin.

"No, it's not."

He hums, neither explicitly agreeing nor denying. "You're in pain. It's difficult not to act on impulses that you know provide temporary relief."

He sets the washcloth aside. You hear the cap of the drops opening and being set aside just behind your head, just out of view. You squeeze your eyes shut. Curl your fingers into your shirt. You hate these stupid things so much. You hate your allergies more. Only by a little.

"Open."

You sigh. No escaping it now.

You blink open your eyes, looking up at your wonderful partner and the small bottle between his fingers. Normally, you'd admire and adore those hands, so lost in your love for them that everything else goes away. Not this time; your focus is on the bottle and nothing else.

"Take a breath, love. I'll be quick."

You can't look away from the imposing little thing. See-through nozzle hovering directly over your eye. You can't shut your eyes to block it out, especially as Zayne's thumb gently tugs down your lower lid. Liquid beads up on the tip. Shakes. And falls.

You hiss as you shut your eyes. The solution stings. It mixes with the water of your eye and gathers on your lashes, sticking them together. Slips down into the corner where it hurts the most.

He gives you a moment to gather yourself. You try to open your eyes again, but the sting returns and you have to close them. A moment later, you try again, and stare with watery eyes back up at him.

"You're doing really well," he says. You don't feel like you have. You feel like you've been behaving like a child about it this whole time. "Just one more and we're done."

You sigh. He tugs down the lower lid of your other eye and aligns the dropper directly over it. It's no less intimidating. When it drips, it stings just as bad. Your fingers crinkle your shirt's hem to hell. You can hear Zayne cap the bottle once more and set it aside. His hand soothes over yours, silently willing you to relax.

"Give it a moment to take effect. Then you can have the washcloth."

You groan. "I bet you don't even flinch when you do your own eyedrops," you grumble.

He chuckles, a smile evident in his voice. He pries your hands from your shirt and slips his own hand in its place. Long fingers trace over your own, caressing. You return the favor, mindlessly tracing over his scars. "I'm fortunate enough not to have strong reactions to pollen. I very rarely need eyedrops."

"You got all the best genes."

"You're welcome to thank my parents for them."

You crack a smile despite your suffering. Your eyes are no longer squeezed as tight as possible; your eyelids are relaxed, sticky lashes brushing over your cheeks. It's almost peaceful now. Your eyes still itch, but it's no longer so unbearable. They still sting and burn, and you still want to rub them to hell, but playing with Zayne's hand keeps you occupied.

After a moment, when the drops have had time to dry at the crease of your lids with the final tears of the experience, he settles the washcloth over your eyes. The cool water washes away the stickiness and soothes the lingering discomfort. You sigh in relief, raising a hand to press the cloth further into the inner corners of your eyes.

"Better?"

"Much better." You drop your hand back into your lap to hold his. "I'm sorry for being such a baby about this."

"That's alright," he says. You can hear the teasing grin in his voice. He holds your hands tight so you can't smack his shoulder with a warm chuckle. "It just means I get to baby you."

You snicker. "That mean I'm your baby?"

You feel the soft press of a smile against your lips. "Mhm." Another kiss, and another, and another. Sweet as sugar, each one becoming longer than the next until you're both grinning idiots. "My stubborn, sweet baby."

---

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[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ caught in the middle

synopsis: sirius is stuck between you on your period and remus nearing the full moon—both of you are emotional messes, and he has no idea what to do. one second you're yelling at him, the next you're crying, and then you’re both clinging to him like he’s your favorite pillow. completely panicked, he calls james for help content warnings: lots of mood swings, fluff, and sirius suffering (affectionately)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 984

Sirius paced back and forth in the small living room, his fingers raking through his long hair, muttering under his breath. He could hear you and Remus in the bedroom, murmuring, laughing, then suddenly going quiet—an eerie calm before the next storm. He winced, thinking about the past few days of chaos.

You were on your period, and Remus was nearing the full moon. Mood swings? More like a tsunami of emotions, and Sirius was caught right in the middle.

He glanced at the bedroom door, half-expecting one of you to storm out, shouting at him for some unknown reason, or worse—crying uncontrollably over something he didn’t even understand. It had been like this all week.

"Merlin, what am I supposed to do?" Sirius whispered dramatically to the air. He grabbed his phone and dialed James’s number.

“Pads? What’s going on, mate?” James answered, sounding cheery.

“They're driving me mad!” Sirius whispered harshly. “Y/N’s got her period, and Remus is so close to the full moon he’s practically howling, and they’re both—both insane! I swear, James, they’re like… like pregnant women! And I’m in the middle of it all!”

James chuckled, but Sirius wasn’t amused.

“It’s not funny!” Sirius snapped. “I don’t know whether they’re going to shout at me or cry or smother me in affection! Yesterday, Remus hugged me for ten minutes straight, and then Y/N told me I was the worst person in the world because I didn’t put the dishes away properly!”

James was practically wheezing with laughter on the other end. “Mate, you’re gonna have to deal with this yourself. It’s called being in a relationship!”

“Oh, brilliant, thanks for the help. Maybe I’ll just die here in a storm of emotions while you and Lily live happily ever after,” Sirius grumbled.

“Pads, relax,” James said, still laughing. “Just go check on them. See what they need.”

“Oh no. No, I am not going in there. You don’t know what it’s like! One minute they’re calling for me, all sweet, and the next, I’m getting death glares because I forgot to buy extra chocolate! It's a bloody blood bath!”

As if on cue, your voice floated down the hallway. “Sirius, can you come here for a second?”

Sirius froze, eyes wide with panic. “See?! They’re plotting something!”

“Mate, you’re being dramatic. Just go. You’ll be fine,” James said, completely unbothered.

“I won’t survive this,” Sirius muttered darkly, hanging up. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever awaited him on the other side of the door. With a final prayer to Merlin, he walked into the bedroom.

You and Remus were sitting on the bed, both looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Sirius’s heart clenched. Oh no, here we go again.

“Sirius,” Remus began softly, his voice a little shaky, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded, looking equally regretful. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. We’re just… so emotional right now, and everything’s overwhelming.”

Sirius blinked. “Wait, are you… both apologizing?”

Remus smiled, though his eyes were tired. “We are.”

You reached out for Sirius’s hand, and he stepped closer, letting you pull him down between the two of you on the bed. You snuggled into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. Remus followed suit, resting his head against Sirius’s other shoulder.

Sirius could feel the tension slowly melting away as you both wrapped yourselves around him. He let out a deep breath, wrapping his arms around the two of you. “Well… this isn’t so bad,” he mumbled, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“We love you, you know,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Remus hummed in agreement. “Yeah, you’re the best, Pads. We don’t deserve you.”

Sirius chuckled softly. “Finally, some appreciation.”

But just as he started to relax, you suddenly lifted your head, your brows furrowing. “Wait… did you eat the last of the ice cream?”

Sirius’s smile froze on his face. “What? No! Why would you—”

Remus sat up too, narrowing his eyes. “Sirius. You know how much we needed that.”

“I didn’t eat it!” Sirius exclaimed, eyes wide. “I swear!”

But you both stared at him suspiciously, and just like that, the storm was back.

“I knew it!” you accused. “You don’t care about us!”

“Oh, Merlin, help me,” Sirius groaned, his head falling back in exasperation. “I’m not gonna survive this.”

You crossed your arms, looking deeply offended, while Remus sighed heavily, clearly upset again.

Sirius pulled out his phone, sending a frantic text to James and Lily.

Sirius: Send help. I’m not making it out of this alive.

“Sirius!” you and Remus shouted at the same time, drawing his attention back to you both.

“Okay, okay!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll go buy more ice cream. Just… please stop looking at me like that. I feel like I’m in the middle of a war.”

Remus and you exchanged glances before looking back at him. “Hurry,” you both said in unison, and then, as if nothing happened, you both wrapped your arms around him again, squeezing him tight.

Sirius sighed dramatically, feeling your heads resting on his shoulders once more. “I’m doomed,” he whispered under his breath.

James's response came through.

James: You’ll be fine, mate. Just wait till they start crying again.

Sirius groaned, muttering to himself. “Why did I ever think dating both of you was a good idea?”

“Because you love us,” you whispered sleepily.

“And we love you,” Remus added with a small smile.

Sirius smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and Remus’s. “Yeah, I do.”

But then, just as the moment turned peaceful, you both tensed up again. Remus sat up abruptly, eyes wide. “Wait. Did you really eat the last of the ice cream?”

Sirius groaned dramatically, falling back onto the bed. "Merlin’s beard, I'm dead."

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[cannibal-alien]

Idk if you do a ___!reader(You can ignore this req if you dont!)But can i ask for a prototype!Reader?(The one from regretevator)Any survivors or killers btw!

prototype! reader x survivors & killers

picked a few at random! not quite sure if you meant personality wise or the reader is quite literally a robot, but i decided to go with both, since that’s pretty freakin’ awesome. tyy for the request! ^w^ featuring guest 1337, chance, john doe, & 1x4!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . ✦

🪖 guest 1337

guest 1337 admires your cheerful and curious personality. he sees it as a valuable strength, especially considering your current grim circumstances. it’s definitely refreshing to have you around, you’re like a little beam of hope for him! a reminder that he needs to stay alive and keep fighting. he does end up having to save you a lot, since your curiosity keeps leading you into dangerous places. and yeah… it’s happened more than once. even when he’s keeping an eye on you, you always manage to slip away, damn it!

now, guest isn’t quite too sure about the whole robot part. but that doesn’t make him like you any less! no, you’re still pretty cute. it’s just a little hard to patch you up without the proper parts. most of the time he has to scrounge around for them, unless the spectre’s feeling generous on that day. he’s fixed up a car or two before, so moderate repairs aren’t that big of a deal, really.

🎲 chance

chance will feed into your endless curiosity and follow you around. not just to see what’s grabbed your attention this time, but also to make sure you don’t walk right into a dangerous trap. they’re doing their best to be supportive and, more importantly, prevent you from breaking!!!

chance feels the most vulnerable when you scan them, and… they’d really prefer it if you didn’t do that. but they think it’s absolutely hilarious when you do it to anyone else! which he’ll probably ask you to do anyway. just one of the many cool perks of dating you!

🏴‍☠️ john doe

john doe found your curious behavior amusing at first. he’d often tease you about it - you’re just so peppy, so optimistic, he didn’t really understand. to him, you seemed a bit naive, like you couldn’t comprehend how horrible things truly were around there. so, he didn’t take you all that seriously, and honestly? you kind of agitated him a little.

though really, the agitation mainly stems from john’s worry for you. he’s never verbally expressed it, but god forbid another killer ever sets their sights on you, he’d do anything to protect you. anything. even if it’s just some random survivor giving you a tough time, picking on you or whatnot, you already know he’s making absolute sure they suffer. again and again, in each & every round.

🦴 1x4

much like john doe, 1x4 might be a little frustrated with you initially. you’re total, complete opposites, basically like night and day. but your energy doesn’t exhaust him. if anything, he matches it with his own! …although it’s more on the negative side. all your questions? 1x4 finds them a little flattering, actually; but good luck getting an actual, real answer from him. “why do you wanna know so bad?” - with that teasing grin, not quite realizing that robots tend to learn… a lot more than really they let on.

1x4 can actually fix up a robot pretty good! he’s got skilled hands, just lacking the proper patience. but for you? he’d do it all, with no little complaints. maybe if you had just stayed by his side, you wouldn’t have wandered off straight into the hands of another killer! …but it’s fine. he’ll patch you up, he always does. you’re too important to lose.

[vero-lynn]

Hey y'all... AGGRESSIVELY POINTS TO A CHAIR. Sit. Down.

Today I'm talking about why I think it's HEAVILY IMPLIED and canon that Brian was KILLED and was able to leave the ark. KILLED. AS IN, HE DIED.

THERE WILL BE COMIC (issue 3.5) SPOILERS, SO PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Okay, so I saw that a few people weren't into the whole "Brian died and crawled his way back from the ark" thing, and I get it, it's fine, but I'll still talk about it because I can.

So, Issue 3.5 - we see that Brian's face LITERALLY GLOWS.

And it happens more than once in the comic too. He's CORRUPTED. HIS FACE IS CORRUPTED.

But Vero! It can be a stylistic choice! This doesn't mean - WRONG!!!

His face GLOWS in the series as well. You can call it a camera glitch, but we never saw it do THIS. And if it was only the camera, TIM WOULD HAVE SEEN HIS FACE RIGHT HERE. BUT HE DIDN'T. The mask is off, and this is what's UNDER IT.

The missing eye.

This is literally showing us that he DIED from a wound to his eye. We know that there's a bullet casing in his house but no bullet. He was SHOT THROUGH HIS EYE AND DIED.

But Vero! It can just be from losing himself to the ark! Maybe he simply lost it while clawing himself out!

Um, NO??? Do you guys see the smoke, markings and a glitch? Let's compare it to the other two dead characters in the ark, shall we?

Alex and Jay.

Do you guys see the black smoke? The smoke from the wounds that caused their deaths? Exactly. EXAAAAACTLY. Your death wound HAS A SMOKE COMING OUT OF IT.

But Vero, Alex's eyes are also all black later on!

Well yes, but there's a problem.

HIS EYES AREN'T SMOKING. HE HAS THEM BEFORE HE GETS GLITCHED. Brian's eye is PERMANENTLY MISSING.

Alex himself was probably in the ark many times, he lost himself more and more and more but he didn't DIE beforehand.

His face is glitched yes, but again, that only means he's a shell. He has nothing left of himself - he can't form words, he can only screech - WHICH BY THE WAY!!! BRIAN UNDERSTANDS. HE UNDERSTANDS HIS SCREECHING. THEY'RE PRETTY MUCH THE SAME CORRUPTION.

It's said that Brian escaped the ark AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. NOT ONCE, NOT TWICE -

The only reason he's not able to do it again is because he has nothing left to give. He would have found a way again, but there just .. nothing left. He knows where he is, he knows what to do, he knows where to go. He's FAMILIAR with the place. He KNOWS a way out.

Now, WHY do I think Brian dying before his final death is important - IT ADDS TO HIS CHARACTER. His determination. His devotion to help Jay and Tim and also to kill Alex. Him sacrificing himself and his humanity (not being able to talk, not being able to communicate properly but only in codes and riddles) but STILL not being able to kill Alex - not doing that SINGULAR ACT of ending someone's life no matter how much he's suffered because of that person, no matter how much he's lost. THAT'S IMPORTANT TO ME. It says so much about how genuine and kind Brian was, he never had any bad intentions and he never wanted anyone to get hurt.

He's the OPPOSITE OF ALEX. They're two sides of the same coin.

Him dying by his hand once before, hunting him down, watching him kill and hurt people, but still not being able to kill him is so important to me, okay? Him clinging to his LAST PIECE OF HIS HUMANITY.

Okay, I'm done. Please agree with me.

[yunholic-jongholic]

Snuggle Season | C.JH x Reader

SUMMARY | You are on your period and your boyfriend Jongho comes to comfort you for the day.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Fem!Reader

RATING | 16+? (Idk...)

CONTENT WARNINGS | Mentions of Period, Reader on her Period, Mood Swings, Cramping, Light Cursing (Not as bad), Softie Boyfriend!Jongho,

WORD COUNT | 7.6k

AUTHOR NOTE | This is for me and the girlies who suffer bad periods and want just Jongho to cuddle them :( Nothing but fluff in this one shot. :3c I will tell y'all right now, as someone who is on her month right now. I cried writing this LMFAO.

•

You woke up in the afternoon—slept in again, unintentionally. It didn’t take long before it hit you… that time of the month had arrived.

Great.

With an annoyed sigh, you forced yourself out of bed, determined to shower and salvage some productivity from the day.

You got your clothes ready and went to take a shower.

Afterwards, wrapped in the lingering warmth of the water, the idea of going out suddenly felt… exhausting. Honestly, staying in and just being lazy sounded way more appealing today.

So, you slipped into your comfiest clothes—soft, oversized, and still carrying that fresh laundry scent—then curled up in bed beneath a blanket that clung to a hint of yesterday’s warmth. The soft patter of rain against the window felt like the world was whispering, it’s okay to rest.

You let out a quiet sigh as the familiar ache of cramps started to settle in. Curling into yourself, you tried to get comfortable again when your phone suddenly buzzed on the nightstand.

With a tired groan, you reached over and picked it up, the screen lighting up with Jongho’s name.

You answered, and his warm voice greeted you on the other end.

“Hey, babe. You, okay?”

You gave a soft hum in response, your voice a little quieter than usual. “Mmm… not really. Cramps are kicking my ass today.”

There was a short pause on his end before he spoke again, gentler this time. “Ah, I had a feeling. You sounded a little off.”

You could practically hear the concern in his tone, that familiar blend of worry and affection.

“Do you want me to come over? I can bring snacks, a heating pad, maybe even risk my life by picking the wrong brand of chocolate again,” he teased lightly, trying to make you smile.

Despite the discomfort, you let out a quiet laugh, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“That does sound tempting,” you murmured. “Especially the snacks.”

“Say no more. I’m on my way,” he said, already moving around in the background. “Text me if you think of anything else you want, okay?”

“Okay… thank you.”

“Always.”

You ended the call feeling just a little lighter, your phone resting beside you again as you nestled deeper into the blankets, comforted by the thought of Jongho on his way.

The steady sound of rain kept you company, soft and soothing against the windows. After a few quiet moments, you sighed and peeled yourself out of bed, shuffling to the door to unlock it for him. Then it was straight back to your cocoon of warmth, where your blanket welcomed you like an old friend.

It wasn’t long before a gentle knock echoed from the front door—followed by the sound of it opening.

“Babe?” Jongho’s voice floated through the apartment.

“In here,” you called softly.

He appeared in your doorway a few seconds later, balancing three overstuffed bags like some kind of cozy-day delivery hero. Without a word, he dropped them on your bed beside you and sat down with a little exhale, brushing his fingers through his slightly damp hair.

“I may have gone a little overboard,” he said with a small grin.

You peeked into the bags—chocolate, heating pads, painkillers, your favorite snacks, and even a little stuffed animal. Your heart melted a little.

He soon slipped off his rain jacket, revealing the bear-print pajamas he’d clearly been wearing all day underneath. The sight made you smile instantly. Before sitting down, he pulled the hoodie over his head, the oversized hood making him look like a sleepy little forest creature.

You reached for him with a small laugh, pulling him closer until he was within kissing range. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.

“You’re so cute,” you murmured.

He grinned, cheeks tinting just slightly. “You’re just saying that because I brought chocolate.”

“Maybe,” you teased, resting your head against his shoulder.

“So…” he said after a pause, stretching out and letting his legs sprawl across the bed, clearly settling in for the long haul. “Do you wanna watch TV or something?”

You nodded, already reaching for the remote. “Only if we can cuddle while we do it.”

“Obviously,” he smirked. “That was always part of the plan.”

You turned on the TV and handed him the remote with a little smile. “Surprise me today.”

He took it with a mock-serious nod, settling in beside you as you grabbed the painkillers and downed them quickly. With one hand, you already tore into the chocolate, unwrapping a piece and popping it into your mouth like it was the cure to all the world's problems.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got,” he said, scrolling through the options.

You watched him browse for a bit—until he hovered a little too long over a scary movie thumbnail.

Your eyes narrowed. “No.”

He grinned. “C’mon, babe. It’ll be fun!”

“I’m serious. No.” But the look in your eyes only made him smirk harder.

With zero hesitation, he clicked it anyway. The ominous music started playing immediately, and you groaned as you sat up, reaching for the remote.

“Don’t worry,” he teased, holding it out of your reach like a villain. “I’ll protect you, babe.”

“Oh my god, give it!” you laughed, playfully swatting at him as you climbed over his lap trying to wrestle it back. He held it away, laughing along with you as the two of you fell into a lighthearted game of tug-of-war with the remote.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said between giggles, still trying to grab it.

“And you’re stuck with me,” he grinned.

He grinned mischievously before gently plopping you back down beside him, sliding the remote behind his back like it was top-secret intel.

You huffed, lightly smacking his chest. “Jongho!”

He burst out laughing at your dramatic squeal, clearly loving every second of messing with you.

“Alright, alright,” he said through his laughter, finally fishing out the remote and handing it over.

You snatched it with an exaggerated glare, rolling your eyes as you muttered something under your breath about gremlins in bear pajamas. With righteous satisfaction, you scrolled past the horror section and put on a lighthearted rom-com instead—something cozy, funny, and just the right amount of cheesy.

Satisfied, you nestled into Jongho’s arms as he wrapped them snugly around you, pulling you in close. His hoodie was soft and warm, and the rhythmic beat of his heart under your cheek was enough to lull you into comfort.

You reached for the chocolate again, popping another piece into your mouth as you settled into the safety of the moment—cramps and all, this was your kind of peace.

As the movie played, the two of you lay there wrapped up in warmth and each other. A cheesy line echoed from the TV, something dramatic like “I’d cross the universe just to see your smile.”

You snorted. “Wow. He really just said that.”

Jongho chuckled, resting his chin lightly on your head. “You don’t want me to say stuff like that to you?”

You looked up at him with a smirk. “If you said it, I’d think you hit your head.”

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Wow. So you’re saying I’m not romantic?”

“I’m saying you’re more of a ‘Here, I brought you snacks and stole your blanket’ type of romantic.”

He grinned. “Guilty. But hey, actions speak louder than overused space metaphors.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Fair enough. You’re my favorite kind of romantic anyway.”

He beamed at that, tightening his arms around you just a little.

Another overly dramatic scene played out on screen, and he whispered, “You think if I started reciting monologues like that, you’d swoon?”

You gave him a look. “You’d trip over the first sentence.”

“Probably,” he said with a soft laugh. “But I’d trip with passion.”

You shook your head, smiling as you snuggled back into him. “Dork.”

“Your dork.”

The movie kept rolling, full of cliché misunderstandings and grand romantic gestures, but somehow it just worked—especially with Jongho’s steady warmth wrapped around you and the rain still pattering softly outside.

At one point, the main couple on screen kissed under a perfectly timed fireworks display. You both blinked at the scene.

“That’s so unrealistic,” you muttered, grabbing another piece of chocolate. “Fireworks don’t just show up when you’re having a moment.”

Jongho shrugged. “Maybe they would if you had a bigger budget.”

You giggled. “Oh, so that’s why we’ve never kissed under fireworks.”

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours with a lazy smile. “We could make it happen. Just need a lighter, some sparklers, and maybe no fire safety laws.”

You gasped dramatically. “Jongho!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughed, holding up his hands. “No laws will be broken in the name of love… probably.”

You both fell into soft laughter again, your bodies pressed close beneath the blankets. Somewhere between scenes, your fingers found his and laced together naturally, like muscle memory.

Eventually, the movie dipped into a quiet montage, and your eyes felt heavier. The chocolate was nearly gone, your cramps were slightly more bearable, and Jongho’s steady breathing beside you made you feel like the world could stop spinning for a while—and you wouldn’t mind at all.

He looked down at you and whispered, “Feeling any better?”

You nodded; eyes still half-closed. “Yeah… thanks to you.”

“Good,” he said, brushing his thumb over your hand. “That’s my job.”

The movie ended, the credits rolling quietly in the background, casting a soft glow across the room. You didn’t bother turning it off. Neither of you moved, tangled up in warmth, the world outside still whispering with rain.

Jongho shifted slightly, just enough to glance down at you. “You still awake?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, barely.

“Can I ask you something?”

You opened your eyes a little, just enough to meet his. “You can ask me anything.”

He paused for a second, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Do you ever think about the future? Like… where we’ll be? What we’ll be doing?”

You blinked slowly, not expecting that—but not surprised either. Jongho had a quiet way of opening up in the dark, when everything felt a little more real.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Sometimes I think about that a lot.”

He smiled softly. “What do you see?”

You took a breath, letting your head rest fully against his chest. “I see… lazy mornings. Matching pajamas. You still stealing my blankets. Maybe a tiny apartment with too many pillows and plants. And us—still doing this. Still choosing each other.”

Jongho was quiet for a moment, like he was holding onto every word.

“I like that,” he said finally. “That sounds… really good.”

You looked up at him. “What do you see?”

He looked down at you, eyes gentle. “Same. Just… you. Always you. No matter where or what.”

Your heart swelled a little, and you reached up to brush your fingers along his jaw. “You’re such a softie.”

“Only for you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

The room fell quiet again, the kind of silence that felt safe and full. You both laid there for a while, speaking now and then in sleepy whispers, until eventually, words faded, and dreams took over—two hearts beating slow and steady beneath the weight of shared warmth.

About an hour later, you stirred. Your stomach gave a quiet protest, reminding you that chocolate wasn’t exactly dinner. You rubbed your eyes, blinking into the dim light of the room, then looked over at Jongho.

He was completely out, arms still wrapped tightly around you, one leg shamelessly stealing most of the blanket. His cheek was squished slightly against the pillow, mouth parted just a bit. Peaceful. Adorable. Slightly blanket-thieving.

You reached out and gently poked his cheek. “Babe…”

No response.

You poked again, a little firmer this time. “I’m hungry.”

This time, his eyes fluttered open just a sliver. He looked at you, bleary and half-dreaming, voice low and raspy. “Already?”

“Yes. My stomach is literally staging a protest,” you whispered, dramatically placing your hand over your belly.

He closed his eyes again like he was about to drift right back off. “Mm. Just… eat more chocolate.”

You gasped. “Jongho.”

He let out a tired chuckle, eyes still closed. “Okay, okay. Give me like… three minutes. Or carry me to the kitchen.”

You laughed softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Now move, or I will take your card and order takeout—for myself only.”

That earned a dramatic groan as he finally began to sit up, dragging the blanket with him like a reluctant little burrito. “Don’t waste all my money,” he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

You snickered, already grabbing your phone. “Too late.” You stuck your tongue out at him playfully as you opened your food delivery app.

He squinted at you, clearly betrayed. “You’re actually doing it?”

“Yup,” you said with a grin, scrolling through options. “Gonna get the good stuff, too. Extra sides. Maybe a dessert. All for me.”

Jongho flopped back onto the bed dramatically. “This is how I die. Starved. Wallet empty. Betrayed by love.”

You giggled, poking his side. “You can still save yourself. Get up and help me order food?”

He peeked up at you, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hmm… will there be noodles?”

“There will be whatever your sleepy heart desires.”

That got him moving—slowly, but with purpose. “Alright, fine. Let’s order before you add a second dessert.”

You grinned. “Too late.”

Jongho groaned in fake defeat, but finally sat up properly. You handed him your phone so he could order something for himself too. He scrolled lazily, adding a few things to the cart before placing the order with a sleepy flourish.

“Boom. Nourishment on the way,” he said, dropping your phone back onto the bed.

While you waited, you flopped down across his lap with a content sigh, snuggling into him without hesitation. Your arms wrapped around his waist, and your face found the perfect spot against his chest.

“You’re so soft,” you murmured, practically melting into him. “Why don’t you wear this every time you come over?”

Jongho let out a little laugh, resting his hand on your back. “Because if I did, you’d never let me leave.”

“Exactly,” you hummed, nuzzling deeper into the plush fabric of his bear-print pajamas. “You get it now.”

He chuckled, his fingers tracing gentle patterns across your back. “You just love me for the pajamas, huh?”

You looked up at him with a mock-serious face. “Don’t be silly. It’s the whole package. But the pajamas definitely secure your spot as the world’s most huggable boyfriend.”

He smirked, clearly pleased. “Good. I’m honored.”

You stayed there in silence for a while, tangled up in warmth and soft fabric, your breathing syncing with his, the wait for food becoming less important than just… this.

Just as you were about to drift off again in the safety of his arms, the doorbell rang, followed by the telltale buzz of the delivery arriving.

Jongho groaned dramatically. “Nooo, don’t make me move.”

You chuckled against his chest. “You're the one who ordered food too, remember?”

He sighed, his hand still lazily rubbing your back. “I regret everything.”

With a playful push, you sat up. “C’mon, we suffer together.”

He grumbled, but eventually peeled himself off the bed, heading to the door. You trailed behind, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it over you.

He returned triumphantly with two warm bags in his hands, a sleepy grin on his face. “Behold—our feast.”

“Oooh,” you cooed, eyes lighting up as the smell hit you. “Bless the delivery gods.”

You both settled on the couch with the food spread out between you—ramen, dumplings, some crispy chicken, and a sweet dessert you definitely didn’t need but definitely wanted.

As you both started eating, you nudged him playfully with your knee. “See? Nighttime kitchen date vibes, no effort required.”

Jongho smiled, mouth full. “This is better. You, me, food, pajamas. Perfect night.”

You raised your drink in a tiny toast. “To soft bear boys and stolen desserts.”

He clinked his bottle lightly against yours. “And to you stealing my heart and my hoodie.”

You grinned. “Get used to it.”

After the food was devoured, the wrappers crumpled, and your bellies were happily full, the two of you returned to the bedroom in a quiet, satisfied daze. Jongho flopped onto the bed first, limbs spread out like a starfish.

You followed, dragging the blanket with you as you climbed in beside him, immediately curling into his side like it was second nature.

“Okay,” you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder, “next time I say I want to go out, remind me that nights like this exist.”

He smiled, fingers brushing lazily through your hair. “Deal. I like when you stay in like this… with me.”

A peaceful silence settled between you, broken only by the soft hum of the rain still tapping at the window. Your hands found his again, fingers intertwining easily.

“Do you ever think about… like, us moving in together?” you asked quietly, your voice soft and sleepy.

Jongho turned his head a little, looking down at you. “All the time.”

You blinked, surprised by how quickly he answered.

“I already know what drawer you’d steal,” he continued with a little smile. “You’d fill the fridge with too much iced coffee and hoard all the fluffy socks. But… I think I’d love that.”

You felt your heart flutter, warmth blooming in your chest.

“Would we fight over the blanket?” you asked, lifting a brow playfully.

He smirked. “Obviously. But I’d let you win. Most of the time.”

“Most?” you teased.

“Hey, I need at least a corner,” he laughed.

You buried your face into his chest again, grinning. “I’d give you two.”

“Generous,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

A yawn escaped you as your eyes started to grow heavy again. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”

He pulled you closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know. You’re mine too.”

And just like that, under dim lights and the soft rhythm of falling rain, you drifted off in his arms—full, warm, safe, and completely loved.

---

Morning sunlight peeked in through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The rain had stopped sometime during the night, leaving the air quiet and still, like the world was holding its breath just for the two of you.

You stirred first, blinking slowly as you adjusted to the light. Your body was wrapped in warmth—arms around your waist, legs tangled with yours, and the familiar sound of Jongho’s soft breathing right next to your ear.

You smiled sleepily, taking in the way his hair was a little messy, how his brows were relaxed, peaceful in a way that made your chest ache a little in the best way.

You shifted just enough to face him, brushing your fingers lightly along his jaw. He stirred a bit, then cracked one eye open.

“Mmm… morning,” he rasped, voice low and sleepy.

“Morning,” you whispered back, nose barely brushing his. “You snored.”

He let out a lazy laugh. “Lies.”

“Truth. I have audio evidence,” you teased.

He groaned and buried his face in your neck. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” you said smugly, stroking his hair. “You wanna sleep more or get breakfast?”

He stayed quiet for a moment before mumbling into your skin, “Can we just stay like this? Like... ten more minutes?”

You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing lull you again. “Ten minutes.”

But both of you knew you’d stay like that for much longer wrapped up in morning stillness, in each other, with nowhere else to be.

Until the ache returned.

You shifted with a quiet whimper, curling into yourself as the cramps made their unwelcome comeback. The warmth and softness of the moment faded just slightly under the pressure in your lower stomach, and you let out a soft groan.

Jongho immediately stirred, his senses tuned to you even in half-sleep. He sat up a little, brushing your hair back gently. “You alright? Do you need more medicine?”

You nodded softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… they’re back.”

He was already climbing out of bed without hesitation, stretching his arms with a small yawn before padding over to your bag and rummaging through it for the painkillers. He returned with them in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, sitting back down beside you.

“Here,” he murmured, helping you sit up enough to take them. You swallowed the pills and sipped the water slowly, leaning into his side as he held the bottle steady.

He wrapped his arms around you gently after, tucking your head under his chin. “We’ll just rest a little longer. I’ll be your human heating pad again.”

You chuckled weakly against his chest. “Best heating pad ever.”

He kissed the top of your head. “That’s right. Comes with hugs, snacks, and amazing singing voice. Limited edition.”

You sighed, settling into him again. Even through the discomfort, having him there made it all feel manageable. Safe.

“I really love you, you know,” you murmured.

He smiled, pressing his cheek to your hair. “I know. I love you more.”

----------------

A little while later, once the meds started to ease the pain and you felt steady enough to move, Jongho gently helped you out of bed. You still wore the blanket around your shoulders like a cape, and he tossed you a knowing smile.

“You look like a sleepy queen,” he teased, reaching for your hand.

You smirked. “Then make me a royal breakfast, peasant.”

He gasped dramatically. “The disrespect,” he said, but still bowed low before leading you toward the kitchen.

The morning light poured softly through the windows, filling the space with a golden warmth. It smelled like quiet—like home. You sat at the small table, pulling the blanket tighter around you, while Jongho got to work at the stove, humming under his breath.

You watched him from your spot—barefoot in his bear pajamas, hair still a little messy, moving around like he’d done this a hundred times. Maybe he had.

He peeked over his shoulder. “Toast, eggs, and fruit, okay?”

“Perfect,” you said softly, resting your chin in your hands.

A few minutes later, he brought over two plates. Simple, but warm and made with love. He even sliced the strawberries into hearts—badly, but the intention made you melt.

You grinned, picking one up. “These are definitely trying to be hearts.”

He chuckled. “They’re emotionally accurate.”

You both ate slowly, savoring the calm between bites. No rush. No background noise. Just the occasional clink of forks and the soft brush of his foot nudging yours under the table.

When he caught you staring at him mid-bite, he tilted his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said with a sleepy smile. “Just… I like mornings with you.”

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Good. Because you’re getting a lot more of them.”

After finishing breakfast, the two of you sat there for a while longer, basking in the sunlight spilling across the table. Neither of you made a move to clean up just yet. There was no rush. No plans. Just the quiet, comforting presence of each other.

Jongho stretched with a low groan, arms reaching toward the ceiling before collapsing dramatically back into his chair. “Okay, I vote we do absolutely nothing productive today.”

You raised a brow. “Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he confirmed. “Except maybe snacks. And cuddles. And binge-watching shows we’ve already seen three times.”

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed with a fake-serious look. “And if the world ends while we’re lying on the couch watching reruns?”

He shrugged with a grin. “At least we’ll go out wrapped in a blanket burrito together.”

You laughed, already imagining how the rest of the day would go. “Fine. Lazy day officially approved.”

The two of you cleaned up the dishes at a snail’s pace—playful bickering over who washed and who dried, ending with you both flicking soap bubbles at each other like children.

Once the kitchen was clear, it was straight back to the couch. You claimed your usual corner, and Jongho joined you with the blanket and a bowl of snacks. You flipped through streaming services before settling on an old favorite—the kind of show where you could quote every line, but it never stopped being comforting.

He wrapped an arm around you as you curled up into his side again, warm and safe. The world outside moved on, but your little bubble stayed still.

Between episodes, you talked about everything and nothing—dream vacations, what kind of pets you’d have one day, and what your “dream couch” would look like if you ever moved in together.

Eventually, his fingers started absentmindedly combing through your hair, and your eyelids grew heavier with each slow, rhythmic pass.

“You falling asleep?” he asked softly, his voice like a warm breeze.

“Mmm… maybe,” you mumbled, the tiniest smile playing on your lips. “Maybe singing will help me stay awake.”

He sighed, knowing full well you were already halfway to dreamland. But he didn’t call you out on it. Instead, his fingers kept their slow, soothing pattern, and after a moment, he started to sing—softly, just above a whisper.

It was one of your favorites. A quiet love song, something gentle and nostalgic, the kind of melody that wrapped around your heart like a blanket. His voice was low and warm, slightly raspy from sleep, but full of emotion.

You didn’t say anything—you couldn’t. You were already sinking, breath slowing, heart softening with every note. His chest rose and fell beneath your cheek, his voice vibrating gently against you like a lullaby made just for this moment.

By the time he reached the end of the second verse, your breathing had deepened, steady and peaceful. You were asleep, fully and completely, wrapped in his arms with a tiny smile still on your face.

Jongho looked down at you and let out the softest chuckle, brushing his fingers lightly across your cheek.

“Yeah,” he whispered, still holding you close. “That’s what I thought.”

He adjusted the blanket around you, kissed your forehead, and pulled you in a little tighter—his voice fading into hums as he let the rest of the day pass by with you, right there where you belonged.

The sky outside had shifted from bright morning light to that soft, golden hue that only came in the early evening—like the sun was trying to say goodbye as gently as possible.

You stirred a little, slowly waking in the quiet hush of the living room. The soft glow from the setting sun spilled across the floor, catching in the folds of the blanket still wrapped around you.

Jongho was still there, arms cradling you, his chin resting lightly on your head as he scrolled through his phone with one hand. He noticed your little shift instantly.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice warm like everything else around you. “How was your nap?”

You yawned, eyes barely open as you tilted your head to look at him. “Perfect. You didn’t move.”

“Of course not,” he said, brushing a thumb gently along your arm. “You were too comfortable.”

You sat up slowly, stretching your arms and blinking into the amber light. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven,” he replied. “The sky’s putting on a show for us.”

You turned toward the window, catching the soft pinks and oranges bleeding across the horizon. “Wow… it’s pretty.”

He stood and held out a hand. “Come watch it with me from the balcony?”

You took it, letting him guide you out. The cool air kissed your skin, but he pulled you close, wrapping the blanket around both your shoulders as you leaned against the railing together.

No words were needed for a few minutes. Just the quiet of the city winding down, the birds calling out somewhere far away, and the shared silence of two people completely at peace.

After a while, he leaned down, resting his forehead against yours.

“You know,” he said softly, “I could do this every day. Just… us. Lazy mornings. Quiet evenings. Everything in between.”

You smiled, fingers curling into his hoodie. “Me too.”

And as the last bit of sunlight dipped beneath the skyline, the two of you stood there—wrapped in warmth, wrapped in love—already dreaming about doing it all over again tomorrow.

Jongho let out a small sigh, voice low against the hush of evening. “I should probably get going soon… I’ve got work in the morning.”

Your face immediately dropped, and you tightened your arms around him like a koala. “Nooo…” you whined, clinging to him dramatically. “Just stay forever. Call in sick. Say you’ve been trapped by a very persuasive blanket monster.”

He chuckled, burying his face into your shoulder. “Tempting. Very tempting. I don’t think my boss would buy it, though.”

“She clearly lacks imagination,” you mumbled into his hoodie. “Or a heart.”

Jongho pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing your hair gently behind your ear. “I’ll come back as soon as I’m off. Maybe bring dinner?”

Your pout softened. “Promise?”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Promise. Same time tomorrow. Bear pajamas and all.”

You sighed, still reluctant but slowly letting go, your arms lingering around his waist. “Okay… but I’m making you take the leftover snacks as emotional compensation.”

“I accept,” he said with a grin, grabbing the bag with a dramatic bow. “Payment received. Heart slightly less shattered.”

You walked him to the door, still wrapped in the blanket, watching as he put on his shoes with exaggerated slowness.

“Text me when you get home,” you said.

He looked up and nodded. “You know I will.”

And with one last soft kiss, he stepped out into the night, leaving the door just a little ajar—like a promise he’d be back soon.

You stood there for a moment in the quiet, hugging the blanket closer. And though you missed him already, your heart felt full.

But once you stepped back inside, the warmth started to fade. The cramps crept in again, dull and stubborn, and your body just couldn’t pretend to be okay anymore. You made your way straight to bed, gathering your snacks like little emotional lifelines, and climbed under the covers without a second thought.

You tried to distract yourself, maybe scroll on your phone or open a show again—but the loneliness settled in faster than you expected. The ache wasn’t just physical—it was that sudden, hollow feeling of missing someone the second they’re gone, even if they were just there.

Tears started to prick at your eyes before you could stop them. You wiped them away roughly with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Damn, I hate my month,” you muttered, voice shaky. You pulled the plushie Jongho had given you into your arms, clutching it tight against your chest. It still smelled like him.

You didn’t want to cry. You really didn’t. But the combo of pain, hormones, and missing him cracked you open just enough.

Then your phone buzzed.

Seconds later, your phone started to ring.

You answered without hesitation, already hearing Jongho’s voice on the other end—his tone animated and buzzing with excitement.

“You won’t believe it!” he blurted.

You sat up slightly, wincing as the cramps flared again, clutching a pillow to your stomach for a little comfort. Your voice came out tired, but you tried your best to sound engaged. “What…”

There was a pause—just long enough for you to hear the smile in his voice. “Right as I got home, my manager called. Someone offered to trade shifts with me. I’m off tomorrow.”

You blinked, processing. “…Wait. Seriously?”

He couldn’t hold in his laugh anymore. “Dead serious.”

Your heart skipped, and you immediately whined through the phone. “Then what are you doing?! Come back!”

“I’m already halfway into my hoodie again,” he teased. “Was just waiting for you to say it.”

You buried your face into the pillow with a muffled squeal. “Hurry up. I’m dying.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” he said gently. “Blanket burrito prep ready?”

You smiled through the ache, relief washing over you. “I never unwrapped.”

“Perfect. Your emotional support bear is on the way.”

He hung up, and you stared at your phone for a second, heart swelling. Despite the pain, despite the tears—you suddenly felt so much lighter.

You whispered to your plushie, “Knew it, your father wouldn’t leave me like that.”

And sure enough, barely fifteen minutes later, the door quietly opened again—and there he was, hoodie slightly crooked, hair wind-tossed, arms full of snacks and an extra heating pad.

“Reporting for snuggle duty,” he said with a sleepy grin.

“Great,” you mumbled, already pulling him toward the bed like he belonged there—because he did. “You’re not allowed to leave me again. You’re locked and trapped in here until snuggle season is over.”

Jongho laughed as he climbed in, letting you tug him into your arms like a giant teddy bear. “Snuggle season is year-round, babe. Guess I live here now.”

“Exactly,” you whispered, kissing his cheek before nuzzling into the crook of his neck. You gently intertwined your fingers with his, both of your hands resting comfortably between you. The tension in your body was already melting away—his presence, his warmth, grounding you completely.

He hummed softly, content. After a moment, he tilted his head slightly to look down at you. “I can go pick us up food if you want… or try to cook something.”

You let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering closed as you held onto him a little tighter. “Mmm… tempting, but you just got back. Let’s just stay like this for a little bit.”

“I can work with that,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand.

And so, you stayed wrapped up together in that warm, quiet moment—no rush, no plans, just soft breaths and steady hearts, safe in each other’s arms as the night gently folded in around you.

After a few quiet minutes of cozy silence, your stomach grumbled just loud enough to make you both laugh softly. You sat up and poked Jongho’s cheek with intention.

“I’m hungry now,” you declared, eyes locked on him with faux seriousness. “I crave chicken.”

He blinked up at you from where he was still laying, voice soft and amused. “Fried chicken?”

You nodded eagerly; your energy suddenly very real. “Yes. Extra crispy. Extra juicy. Maybe spicy.”

He sighed with a small, fond smile, already reaching for his phone. “I knew peace wouldn’t last long.”

You beamed. “Chicken cravings never sleep.”

Jongho sat up slowly, groaning dramatically like a man on a noble mission. “I’ll go pick it up.”

You watched as he stood, slipping his shoes back on and grabbing his hoodie from where he left it. “You sure? I can come with you.”

He looked over his shoulder, already pulling the hood up. “Nope. You stay warm. Blanket queen duties. I’ll return with treasure.”

You giggled, flopping back into bed dramatically. “Bring back enough for both of us and maybe dessert and also maybe your undying loyalty.”

And with that, he slipped out the door again, hoodie-clad and boyfriend-of-the-year, ready to conquer the chicken gods—for you.

Left in the warm quiet of your room, you grabbed your phone and flopped back against the pillows, opening YouTube for a bit of comfort scrolling. You quickly spiraled into a collection of chaotic cat videos—tiny paws knocking over expensive vases, dramatic leaps ending in disaster, cats yowling at cucumbers like they’d seen a ghost. The laughter was exactly what you needed.

After a few videos (and a few giggles), you glanced at the time and stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh. The cramps had dulled a bit, and you could feel your skin starting to crave that clean, refreshed feeling.

You stood up and padded toward the bathroom, deciding a quick shower would do the trick—something about washing off the heaviness of the day, even if it had been filled with love and chicken cravings.

The water was warm and soothing, wrapping around you like a soft reset. You let it wash over your shoulders, taking a deep breath and letting it all go—the pain, the frustration, the stress. It was just you, the sound of the water, and the comfort of knowing someone who loved you was out picking up your favorite meal.

You stepped out of the shower feeling lighter, wrapping yourself in a towel and moving slowly back to your room, already smelling faint hints of soap and calm. You changed into clean pajamas, fluffier socks, and threw your hair up messily, still damp but cozy.

Just as you flopped back onto your bed, Jongho texted you telling you he got the stuff, and he was at the door.

The second he stepped in, the smell of crispy, golden fried chicken filled the air, and your stomach growled like it was announcing his arrival.

He walked into the room like a hero returning from battle, carrying the sacred bags of food and setting them down triumphantly on your bed.

“Thank you!” you beamed, immediately reaching for the warm box of chicken and sides. You opened it up with reverence—crispy pieces, golden fries, dipping sauces, everything your heart and soul needed in that moment.

But then—betrayal.

Your eyes caught the sight of something else in his hands. A chicken sandwich. You blinked. “Hey! You didn’t offer me one!”

He looked at you, feigning innocence. “You wanted normal chicken!”

“That’s not the point!” you gasped, dramatically pointing at the sandwich like it personally offended you.

He smirked and took a bite right in front of you. “Mmm. Delicious.”

You gave him your best playful glare, narrowed eyes and everything. Then, without warning, you pounced—tackling him down into the blankets, reaching for the sandwich like it was a prize in a survival game.

“You got a whole box! Ten pieces!” you shouted, laughing. “I just want a bite!”

“I only got one sandwich!” he laughed back, trying to hold it out of your reach as you climbed over him, grabbing his arm and leaning in, mouth open and ready.

“I will fight you for it, Jongho.”

“You’re already fighting me!” he cried out, half-laughing, half-dramatic. “This is a betrayal of peace!”

You managed a quick bite before he twisted away, groaning like you’d mortally wounded him.

“Mmm,” you said, chewing slowly. “That’s so good. Thanks for sharing, babe.”

“You’re a menace,” he muttered, flopping back with a dramatic sigh.

“And yet you love me.”

He looked up at you with a tired grin. “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

After the dramatic battle of the sandwich came to a truce (with you getting one more smug bite), the two of you finally sat up, breathless and giggling.

“Okay, okay,” Jongho said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye from laughing so hard. “Truce. No more food wars.”

You held up your pinky. “Pinky promise.”

He linked his with yours. “Until the next time you eye my fries.”

“No promises there,” you grinned.

You both finally focused on the feast in front of you—steaming pieces of crispy chicken, golden fries, coleslaw, dipping sauces, and drinks that had already started to sweat from the condensation.

The room quieted down except for the soft rustle of wrappers and the occasional mmm of pure fried chicken satisfaction. You both sat cross-legged on the bed, passing sauces back and forth, trading bites here and there, and just enjoying the calm after the storm.

“This is dangerously good,” you mumbled, licking a bit of sauce off your finger. “I might cry again, but for totally different reasons.”

“Cramps who?” Jongho teased, sipping his drink. “Chicken heals all.”

You nodded solemnly. “Amen.”

He looked at you as you happily munched on a fry and smiled, eyes soft. “You look really cute right now, by the way.”

You paused mid-bite. “Covered in crumbs and sitting in a pile of napkins?”

“Exactly my type,” he said with a wink.

You leaned over and kissed his cheek again. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

“You are right, what would you do without me.” he said, poking your side.

The rest of the meal passed in peaceful silence, soft laughs here and there, your legs bumping under the blankets as the warmth of the food settled in. The chaos faded. The pain dulled. And all that was left was the cozy contentment of being full—of food, of love, of the kind of comfort that only comes from being with your person.

“Do you have the games I left here when I stayed over last week? I want to play,” Jongho asked, already getting up and poking around your movie shelf like a man on a mission.

“Maybe,” you said, voice muffled as you cozied deeper into the blanket pile. “They might still be on the desk; I haven’t really been up and productive this last week.”

He turned, one brow raised. “Wow. You just started your period and you’ve been lazy this entire week?”

You gasped, scandalized.

“Excuse me?!”

He grinned at you with that smug, teasing expression, and that was all it took—you grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it directly at his face.

“You take that back!” you cried dramatically, already reaching for a second one.

The first pillow hit him squarely in the chest. He caught it with a laugh, holding it like a trophy. “I’m just saying! Some people run marathons before their period. You turned into a blanket burrito for five days straight!”

“I am the marathon!” you shouted, launching the second pillow with pinpoint accuracy. “A marathon of feelings and cravings!”

He dodged it with a playful jump, hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay! I yield! I take it back!”

You flopped back into your mountain of blankets, huffing like a queen who just won a war.

“That’s what I thought,” you mumbled, grabbing a piece of leftover chicken like a victory snack.

Jongho laughed, shaking his head as he finally found the game case sitting on your desk. “Alright, lazy legend. Let’s see if your gaming skills are better than your aim.”

You smirked. “Careful. You’re dangerously close to losing your sandwich rights again.”

He popped the game into the console, grinning. “Fair warning—if I win, I’m taking the rest of your fries.”

“Oh, it’s on, chicken thief.” You launched another pillow with zero hesitation.

“You’re the chicken thief!” Jongho shouted back, dodging as he grabbed a pillow and hurled it right back at you.

It hit you with a soft whump, and you squealed, laughter bubbling out of you as you ducked behind your blanket like it was a shield.

“Well, you should’ve bought me one!” you shot back, tossing the pillow again with all the dramatic flair of someone defending their honor.

But this time, Jongho was ready.

He caught it mid-air with an impressive one-handed grab, eyes gleaming with mock triumph. “That’s it.”

“No, no, wait—” you giggled, already trying to scramble back—but it was too late.

With a playful growl, he tackled you gently onto the bed, pressing the pillow over you before flopping down right on top of you like a giant, smug weighted blanket.

“Victory!” he declared, fully laying across you, pinning you down with exaggerated drama.

You laughed so hard you could barely breathe, squirming beneath him. “You’re so heavy!”

“It’s not weight, it’s dominance,” he said proudly, grinning down at you.

“You are such a menace,” you huffed, still giggling as your hands tried to push him off.

He finally shifted just enough to look at you, brushing a bit of hair from your face, his grin softening into something gentler. “And you love me anyway.”

You gave him your most playful eye-roll… then smiled up at him, breathless. “Unfortunately.”

He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose. “Lucky me.”

As Jongho finally rolled off of you, both of you still catching your breath from the laughter and chaos, the room settled again into that familiar, comfortable quiet.

Without needing to say anything, he pulled you close, and you naturally curled into his side, your head resting against his chest, legs tangled together beneath the blankets.

His hand found yours again, fingers slipping into place like they were made to be there. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and let out a peaceful sigh.

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the warmth of his hoodie, the comfort of being home—not the physical place, but the person.

“I wish it could be like this forever,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Jongho didn’t answer right away. He just held you a little tighter.

“Me too,” he finally said. “And maybe… one day, it will be.”

You smiled softly, heart full, letting that thought linger in the air between you—warm, hopeful, and real.

No more words were needed. Just the two of you, wrapped in each other, in laughter, in love—and in the quiet wish that moments like this would never end.

•

A/N: So, I cried writing this :( I love this man so much. I know he is more "stoic" but let me dream here. 😭

[vanishingstarrs]

pancakes for dinner ( k bakugo x nurse!reader, pro hero era, established relationship, just soft and pure vibes, down bad bakugo aka my boyfie fr, slight smut at the end, NSFW, minors DNI ) ( guysss i’ve been so sick and i’ve been suffering having to work still bc #hispanic we ain’t eva allowed to call out )): i’ve been wanting to write please please please x bakugo but haven’t had the energy, meantime hope y’all enjoy this little fic <3 just wholesome mushy stuff for y’all but then it turned smutty at the end because why not lol also i’m pretty new to writing explicitly so pls lmk how it came out !! idk if i'll do that again lmao we shall see i guess )

You were exhausted.

Mentally and physically.

Work had been a tad overwhelming lately, with extra things being piled onto your already heavy workload after a big merger between two of Japan’s biggest hospitals, which in turn caused a lot of people to be let go. Not only had it been stressful wondering whether you’d make the cut or not after a “re-interview”, but when you learned that you had been accepted you’d also been asked if you could take on a few extra duties.

You had never been one to back down from work, always taking initiative and being happy to help any one of your coworkers that might need it.

Lately though, it seemed every single person needed help. Your coworkers, your patients, and if it wasn’t those two then it was your boss asking if you could help her with management duties that had nothing to do with the extra work you’d been assigned to do on top of everything else.

You were sick and tired.

Your muscles cried out as you pushed your apartment door open and immediately kicked off your shoes, groaning as you bent down in order to place them onto the shoe stand. You were sure you heard your back crack as you stood straight once more to hang your purse and keys.

You didn’t bother unpacking the lunch you never got time to eat, leaving the bag you packed it in tied up and in the fridge before heading into your bedroom and immediately shedding your scrubs. You hated doing skincare, but thought about how dirty your face must be after dealing with so many patients and dragged yourself into the bathroom to get it over with.

By the time you were finished doing everything, your body was begging you to lay down for just a minute.

A little power nap never hurt, you told yourself as you fell onto your bed face first and sighed. You hugged your pillow to your aching body and allowed yourself to relax for just a little while.

Though “a minute” quickly turned into three hours as the sun went down and the night sky pulled you further into dreamland.

You didn’t hear the front door open or close, you didn’t stir when your boyfriend started removing his hero equipment, much less wake when those heavy gauntlets he somehow wore all day hit the floor or when his pounding footsteps carried across the hardwood as he made his way to your shared bedroom to check on you.

You missed the brief smirk on his face as he found you lying on his side of the bed, on your right side with a leg propped up for comfort.

Katsuki knew how hard you’d been working lately with the merger between the two hospitals and how stressed it made you. With him working as a hero, he encountered many people that wound up needing to go to the hospital. On top of that, you also had all the other sick people that hadn’t been involved in some villain attack. You likely dealt and saved more people in a single day than he did in a month, he knew this, he was proud of the fact, actually, and incredibly proud of you.

He was damn lucky to have you.

And for all these reasons, he was happy to see you rest for a bit.

He’d often come home late and find that you’d already done all the cleaning around the house, as well as meal prep for both you and him, and still found the time to bake desert on top of making him dinner. You went above and beyond in all aspects of your life, often even calling and checking up on his parents when he hadn’t done so in too long. He’d receive texts from his mother scolding him and making sure he was taking good care of you the way she knew you did him, he swore you were the favorite and he understood why you were.

Everyone loved you.

He adored you.

Except he hadn’t been doing his part as well as he should be lately.

And so, while you slept, he quietly changed into some loungewear before carefully shutting the bedroom door closed behind him.

He tried his hardest to be quiet as he went around cleaning up throughout the house, he swept, he steam mopped the floors (and prayed he didn’t miss a spot), he did your laundry, took your work shoes and scrubbed them clean for your next workday, he took your old lunch and tossed it out before setting to work on preparing you something delicious for tomorrow.

Being in the kitchen was actually soothing for him, he liked being able to experiment with recipes and different things for you to try. He hated that he hadn’t made the time to recently. He cooked enough dinner to pack lunch for both you and him, then last minutely decided that you’d definitely want something sweet when you woke up and pulled out the ingredients to make pancakes from scratch.

You liked it best when you had pancakes for dinner, not breakfast.

He was extremely pleased when they turned out light and fluffy just the way you liked them and he set out to cut up some fruit for you to put on top, making sure everything was ready before heading back to your shared room.

Katsuki was less quiet this time around, as he slid into bed next to you. He propped himself up on his elbow as he buried his fingers into your hair and gently scratched your scalp.

You were exhausted, and likely wouldn’t have woken up if not for him leaning over and placing kisses from your neck all the way up to your ear. You felt his hot breath as he whispered for you to please wake up, which made you groan softly.

You’d yet to open your eyes, but who else would it be? You asked,“Katsuki?”

“Made you food, baby, c’mon, I saw you didn’t eat your lunch, you gotta put somethin’ in your belly.” He explained as he removed his hand from your hair and lifted the material of your shirt to rub up and down your stomach, you felt him inch closer to your chest before stopping himself and tugging your tank top back down to your waist.

You turned toward him, quickly finding the divet in between his shoulder and neck to plant your face in. You were barely awake, not really comprehending what he was trying to say.

“Missed you.” You relaxed further into him.

“Missed you so much, sweets.” You felt him kiss your forehead,“Hate to pull you from bed, but you really gotta open your eyes for me.”

You did as he asked, smiling as his face came into view, lit up by the soft light streaming in from the hallway. “Hi, honey.” You managed to get out as he smushed your cheeks (cuteness aggression) and placed three kisses onto your nose.

You grinned as he said hi back and repeated that he’d cooked for you.

You beamed, you hadn’t had his cooking in a while, but didn’t exactly make a move to get up from bed. It wasn’t until he revealed that he’d made you pancakes, that had you up in seconds.

He chuckled as he followed you down the hall, lightly smacking your butt as you happily made your way through the apartment. You turned to him with surprise,“You cleaned too?”

“Course.” He scoffed as he tugged on your hand and sat you down at your small table that sat four people max. “I’d do it more if you didn’t always beat me to everything, I was thinking I should be doing a bit more around here anyway.”

“I can handle it.” You said, like always.

He rolled his eyes as he brought over the plate he’d prepared for you.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I’m just saying you don’t have to give a hundred percent every day, you know? You could give me thirty and I’d be more than happy to give the remaining seventy.” He began to explain,“I wanna take care of you too, and that starts by you not doing everything.”

You silently watched him cut up your pancakes before placing some fruit onto them and drizzling maple syrup all over, he gave you tea to drink and pulled his chair closer to you while you ate.

He ran his fingers through your hair again as you told him all about your day before asking about his and what time he’d gotten home. He let you feed him a couple bites of food and you snagged a few extra kisses each time you lied and told him he had syrup on his face.

When you finished, he asked if you’d like a bit of real food, claiming he wanted you nice and full. You agreed, happy to eat what he’d prepared.

You were less tired now, satisfied with your belly full and sitting with your lover as he recalled a story about retrieving someone’s lost kitten in a tree. You laughed at the classic save and felt your mental load becoming lighter the more the minutes went on.

After eating, the pampering continued.

Katsuki demanded you allow him to run you a bath, and he quickly made the bathroom up with a few candles. He set up a movie for you to watch on your laptop as he came into the room with you and offered to wash your hair. You requested he get in with you then, and he obliged quickly, taking his time when it came to massaging his hands through your hair and pressing kisses against your back at every opportunity. He held you against his chest as you relaxed into him.

You honestly started to get sleepy again.

And then it was ripped away from you once more as Katsuki led you to bed, not to sleep, but to have you spread out against the mattress for him to plaster his tongue against you and demand he get his dinner now.

“Wanna take care of you.” He’d said.

He quickly had you squirming and writhing underneath his touch and the feel of his fingers inside as he worked you until completion. He sung you praises about how hard you’d been working lately, telling you how you deserved this and more, as well as making sure you knew how good you always did for him.

“One more, baby.” He begged.

One more turned into two then three, and by the time he finally lined himself up to your entrance you were spent. He worshipped your body, kneading your breasts and holding one of your hands back so you couldn’t hide how flushed your face had become from not just his compliments, but from the way he fucked you.

“Katsuki,” You moaned,“Close.” Again.

“Cum with me, baby, please.”

The movement of his hips was starting to get sloppy, but neither of you noticed through the haze. He whined in your ear as you latched onto his back with your hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, your walls squeezed him and he moaned one last time as he got lost in euphoria. He didn’t make a move to remove himself as he pressed his sweaty forehead against your own and kissed your cheek and then your neck and then your collarbone, making a line all the way down to your bellybutton.

He occupied himself with making sure you stayed awake despite your eyes being closed as you attempted to catch your breath, he sucked hard enough to leave a few marks along your chest and before you knew it you started to feel him become hard inside of you again.

Your eyes snapped open as you gave him a look.

Katsuki smirked as he rubbed your hip and stole your mouth briefly,“Gotta make sure you’re nice and full, baby, one more time f’me, please?”

“You’re insatiable.” You told him.

And yet, how could you say no to him when he looked at you that way?

It was a good thing you’d taken that nap earlier, especially now that your body would soon be aching for a different reason.

[revelboo]

A silly little thing,, but I’m an Optimus Prime girlie & happen to also be an ‘exotic dancer’ lmao, so when I was reading Gravity….you can imagine the actual surprise & joy I felt when the reader revealed she was (or used to be one) too, like 😭😭😭 what are the ODDS?? Must be his aura….I love him, your honor

It’s meant to be!

Gravity Pt 12

Optimus x Reader

• Staring at the screen long after Megatron’s little message ends and his fellow Autobots that had seen it start speculating, all he can think of is that he’s not alone. And it’s a relief. Leaving the warmth of you to report for his duties had been difficult. Especially since you’d woken up first and had straddled him. Even deep in recharge, his body responding to those soft hands touching him. Definitely not the worse way to come to alertness and even though he’d hit the washracks, he swears he can still scent you clinging to him. But then it really sinks in. That the Decepticons are taking humans and using them. Because that’s an atrocity that hadn’t even occurred to him.

• Stretching to touch your toes, you idly run through a few stances to limber up because you’re bored out of your mind. As much fun as playing with Optimus is, as soon as he leaves, you’re alone with your thoughts again. Remembering the look on his face before he’s schooled his expression into neutrality. Like a big, lovesick puppy, hurt that sex is all you want. Blowing out a breath as you spin in a slow circle, head tipping back, you know you’d lied to him. But then, you’d lied to yourself to. Saying you don’t want more, when deep down, you do. You’re just afraid to hope, to let down your defenses knowing you can get hurt again if you do. That love is just a pretty lie used to reach a goal.

• Sliding into his seat, he steeples his servos as he listen to the bits of gossip and conversation around him. How many humans are in the Ark at this point? Honestly, he’s not sure anymore. But he does know one thing, he’s probably not the only one who’s gotten attached to their ward. Who’s crossed that particular line. And it’s out there now for all of them, the fact that their species are at least compatible that way. Dropping his head into his hands, he stares at the floor. Because someone’s going to need to have that conversation with the Autobots keeping humans. On the ethics of taking advantage of a much younger species. And how is he supposed to do that when he’s interfacing with you?

• Head lifting when he finally returns, your smile wavers when he just stares at you. “You look like the other kids were bullying you, babe.” Venting he sits on the edge of the berth and then just slumps backwards, hands over his face. Oh. Well this is new, usually he’s so calm and serious. Climbing up his arm and over onto his chassis, you drop to straddle his neck, arms crossed on his chin. “Want me to beat up someone for you?” When his head tips to look at you, you lift an arm to flex your nonexistent muscle for him.

• Your mischievous expression twists through him as he lifts a servo to slide against your spine. “When we- er- interfaced,” he says, ignoring when you cheerfully interject ‘fucked like bunnies.’ “I didn’t pressure you. Right?” Because he can’t imagine what those poor humans captured by the Decepticons are suffering and can’t help but wonder if you’d let him have you out of intimidation or fear.

• “Oh, you are too sweet for words. If anything I seduced you, big guy.” Laughing as he frowns seriously at you, you push up to stand on his neck and drape yourself against his chin, tapping a finger on his bottom lip. “Don’t worry. I promise you didn’t corrupt my innocence.” More likely, you’re corrupting his.

• “I could have,” he says, joking as some of his worry eases and you grin, brows lifting. Expression giving away how much you doubt that. “I can be a bad influence.” His protest just makes you laugh, that warm sound stroking over him. How can this be wrong when you feel so much like home? When he wants to lay beside you and exchange stories. Ask about each other’s day and spend his free time in your arms, listening to you laugh with him. Wants so much more than your body. “The Decepticons are taking humans.” Unable to say to interface with.

Previous

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[rizlowwritessortof]

Friends and Lovers

You and Dean were the best of friends - until the night something happened that changed everything. But when you tried to move on, Dean was always standing in your way. And when you signed up for an online dating service, he was a total dick about it. What the hell did he want from you, anyway??

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4719

Warnings: Nothing but a little angst, arguing and smut

Square #8 for my @jacklesverse-bingo 2025!! Prompt for this one was: Online Romance. Hope you enjoy!!

“It’s just a bad idea,” Dean argued, glaring at his laptop to avoid looking at you.

“Dean, people do online dating all the time.”

He scowled at you. “People. Maybe. I still think it’s stupid. But the thing is, we’re not ‘people.’ We’re hunters.”

You rolled your eyes. “What the fuck does that have to do with it?”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Do you know what internet dating is to monsters? A fucking take-out menu.”

“Oh, my god. You are so dramatic.”

“These things never work out well. I know.”

Sam snorted softly from his seat at the end of the table. “Impala ‘67,’” he muttered, and Dean shot lasers his direction.

“Shut up, Sam!”

You closed your laptop and glared across the table at him. “Look, I’m sorry about your hooker and her demon pimp. But this site is different.”

“Right.”

“You won’t even listen, so this – this discussion is over.” You stood up, grabbing your laptop and moving to leave the room.

Dean leaned forward, his eyes sparking with anger as he raised his voice. “Just a bunch of assholes lying to you, that’s what you’re gonna get. And you’ll be lying to them, because you can’t be totally honest about who you are to some clueless civilian.”

That stung. “Fuck you, Dean!” you fired back as you stormed away, heading for your room. You slammed the door with extra emphasis, and the sound echoed through the bunker. You let out a muffled scream of frustration, dropping your computer onto the desktop and throwing yourself down on the bed.

He was so stubborn. You knew he was just being protective – over-protective – and that he wanted to keep you safe, but nothing fired you up more than his obstinate refusal to listen to someone’s viewpoint that didn’t align with his. He pushed your buttons in a way that no one else had ever done, and it pissed you off that you let him get to you like he did.

The argument had been going on for days. It had all started when you signed up on the dating app, Friends and Lovers. Their whole approach was the antithesis of the hook-up sites that were basically there for booty calls. No photos were allowed, each person signing up was assigned a generic name, once they filled out a form stating their pronouns, relationship preferences, general likes, dislikes, and interests. They encouraged setting up private chats, spending time getting to know each other for a few weeks before actually meeting in person. The whole premise was that building a friendship first would be a stronger foundation for a lasting relationship instead of basing everything on looks and physical attraction.

And if Dean hadn’t been snooping on your computer, he wouldn’t have known anything about it. Ok, fine, he had just asked to borrow it, and you had left the app open by accident. But he’d been riding your ass about it ever since.

This was all his fault in the first place. That night a few months ago had fucking ruined everything. Before that, you had resigned yourself to being his bestie without benefits, no matter how you really felt. Because you knew he didn’t feel the same way, so you just pushed it down and enjoyed what the two of you did have together. And then he had to go and give you that spark of hope for one quick second, that glimpse of what could be, and it had fucked it all up.

You woke gradually, reluctant to leave the warm, cozy comfort of sleep, your eyes fluttering open and blinking slowly. Dean’s green eyes were right there, looking down at you as he brushed a lock of hair from your eyes. “Hey, sleepyhead. You didn’t even make it halfway through – lightweight,” he teased.

He was so close. It finally dawned on you that you were laying on his shoulder, and he smiled in amusement at your sleepy confusion. “Are you with me?”

“Yeah, I think so. Wow, I crashed,” you muttered, yawning.

“Big time.” You looked up at him again, a sleep-drunk smile on your lips. He was still staring down at you, his smile slowly fading. Something in his eyes changed as he looked at you, moving closer, and closer, and you wondered for a second if you were still dreaming, because it looked like – oh, shit, it felt like – he was going to kiss you. You let your eyes drift closed again, and you could feel his breath, could sense his lips almost brushing against yours.

And then he froze. He stayed there, motionless, for a moment, then straightened up so suddenly that your eyes opened again, searching. He was sitting bolt upright, stiff, jaw clenched as he looked away from you. Then he leaned away, rising to his feet after you sat up in response, disoriented, your head spinning a little at the sudden change in the atmosphere.

“Guess we should hit the sack, huh? G’night.” And then he was gone, leaving you feeling suddenly cold, alone, and utterly rejected.

Your relationship – whatever it was – hadn’t been the same since. He had pulled away, keeping you at arms length, and you had pulled away, too – hurt and confused. And the longer it had gone on, the bigger the rift had grown.

Dean sat there staring at his computer, his brows bunched as he gnawed at his lower lip. Sam fixed his eyes on his brother, his lips pressed together as he shook his head. “Don’t do it, Dean.”

Dean frowned back at him. “Don’t do what?”

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking about doing.”

Dean reared back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. “How do you know I’m thinking about doing anything?”

“I can practically read the thoughts going through your brain just from your expression.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean leaned up to his laptop again, and Sam spoke again, more softly this time.

“Dean, I’m just saying, some things you may not be able to come back from.” Dean let out a frustrated sigh, but Sam went on. “Maybe you should just talk to her.”

When his brother looked up this time, his eyes were clouded. “She won’t talk to me. She hasn’t for a while now.” He closed his laptop and pushed back from the table. “If we’re done with therapy, I’m gonna go to bed.” He ignored Sam’s accusing stare as he left the room, heading for the peace of his own bedroom.

He pulled off his boots and sat on his bed, pillows propped behind his back, and opened his laptop. The home page of the dating site was still open there, and he looked at it for a few minutes, Sam’s words still ringing in his ears. “Fuck it. What’s the worst that can happen?” he muttered to himself, and started filling out the form.

You hummed a tune to yourself as you stared into your closet, debating on which shirt to wear with your jeans. It was your first meeting with ‘Tom,’ and you had decided to go casual. You were just meeting him for drinks, wanting to keep everything low-key to start with. Not that you still weren’t nervous, but the two of you – well, ‘Tom’ and ‘Dana’ - had been chatting regularly for three weeks now, and he seemed like a pretty nice, easy-going guy. You seemed to have a lot in common – that you could share, anyway – and he made you laugh. You both constantly referenced and quoted movies and TV shows, liked the same type of food, and he came off as pretty down-to-earth. You were looking forward to getting to know a little more about him – like his real name – and that was a good sign, right? It had been so long since you had an actual relationship with potential that you weren’t even sure how to act. The plan was to keep things loose and not get too eager to jump into more before you were both really ready. If you were ever really ready.

Neither of the guys were in view when you walked through to go to your car. You were a little relieved, not wanting to answer questions anyway. Dean would just get that expression you hated, or start in again about meeting up with some guy you didn’t really know, and you breathed a little sigh of relief. It was sunny outside, and you allowed yourself a dose of cautious optimism as you drove to town.

You walked into the restaurant, targeting a table in a back corner where you could have a little privacy. You were really looking forward to meeting ‘Tom’ in person – your conversations had been far easier than you’d expected. He had a goofy sense of humor, and you’d laughed more online with him than you had in months. You just wanted to enjoy spending time with someone who understood you. He seemed to get you.

The waitress showed up and you ordered a draft beer and some appetizers. He would be showing up soon, but you didn’t want to be sitting there staring at the door when he walked in, so you took out your phone to keep yourself busy. When you heard footsteps, you looked up, your eyes widening as you saw the last person you expected or wanted to see standing there. Dean. “What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady.

He looked a little nervous, staring down at his boots as he answered. “I’m supposed to meet somebody here.” He took a deep breath, finally looking you in the eye. “Her name is ‘Dana.’”

Your eyes went wide, your mouth opening wordlessly as you stared back at him. Then you shoved your chair back, almost knocking it over, and pushed your way between the waitress and Dean as you rushed towards the door.

“Hey!” the waitress said, barely managing to keep from dropping the beer and food you’d just abandoned. She set it all down on the table and looked back towards the door. “Great. Now who’s gonna pay for this?”

Dean pulled out his wallet and dropped a couple of twenties on the table. “Keep the change.”

She smiled at him in relief and thanked him. “Listen, you’d better go after her. She seemed pretty pissed.”

Dean moved towards the door, muttering under his breath, “You have no idea.”

When he stepped outside, he spied you, leaning against the side of your car, arms folded across your chest, staring hotly in his direction. “Shit,” he breathed, walking towards you, trying to come up with words.

“This is a new low for you, Winchester,” you spat, your seething anger making your voice a little shaky.

“I know it was stupid. Sammy told me not to do it.”

“Sam knew you were doing this?!”

“No – he didn’t know. He just knew I was thinking about doing something, and he told me not to.”

“Why? Why would you do this? I really thought I was talking to a nice, normal guy, thought maybe for once… But no, you were right, it was just another asshole lying to me on the internet.”

Dean ducked his head, his jaw working as he felt the blows from her well-aimed words. “I’m sorry. I never meant…” He looked up at her, shaking his head. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.”

“Then why the hell did you do it?”

He hesitated for a second before answering. “Because maybe I’d like to get back to the way we were before.”

“Before what?” You shouted, your voice still brittle with anger, and he returned fire before he could pull it back.

“Before I fucked it all up!”

You were silent for a second, staring down at the ground, the sounds of your raised voices seeming to linger in the air between you. You finally looked up, hurt in your eyes as you spoke quietly. “Well, this didn’t exactly fix things, did it?” You turned and opened your car door, climbing inside and closing it without another word. He stood there watching as you drove away, head hung low, wishing like hell he had listened to Sam’s advice.

It was almost unbearable in the bunker for the next couple of weeks. It was miserable trying to avoid Dean while living in the same space, and you finally got up one Saturday morning, deciding it was time for a change.

You went out to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee, ignoring the surprise on the brothers’ faces at your appearance. “So,” you ventured, “it’s been too long since we all hit the bar together. Tonight we’re going out for drinks. We’re gonna get drunk and we’re gonna have fun. You know, like we used to.” You turned on your heel and headed back to your room leaving them wide-eyed and jaws dropped in the kitchen.

That evening, you stood in front of the mirror in your room, critically eyeing your reflection. Black lace thigh-high stockings, short denim skirt, and a clingy silver-grey top that draped gracefully low, providing a tempting view of soft curves and a generous portion of cleavage. You smiled, happy with the results of your preparations, and turned to put on your denim jacket. You’d save the unveiling for later. One way or another, before the night was over, Dean was either gonna make a damn sandwich or get the hell out of the kitchen.

You sat at the table with the boys for a couple of beers, even though the conversation was sparse and stilted. Sam tried his best to keep things going, but Dean was obviously still not up to much small talk. When you stood up and shed your jacket before heading to the bar, the expression on his face was everything you had hoped for.

You could feel his eyes burning into you as you made your way to the bar, ordering a shot and chatting with the bartender. It wasn’t long before a guy with an expensive haircut and too many buttons undone on his shirt came sidling up to you – exactly what you had been hoping for. When he asked you to dance, you gave him a promising smile and let him lead you to the dance floor.

Dean sat at the table, staring in your direction with a death grip on his beer. You were out there having a great time, laughing and dancing, flirting your ass off from the looks of it. He ground his teeth together, then slammed the rest of his beer down in one go, standing up and stalking to the bar for another. No, fuck that, he wanted whiskey. A double.

He polished off the whiskey and ordered another before heading back to the table. Sam was watching him, but wisely pressed his lips together and kept his mouth shut. Dean’s eyes drifted back to the dance floor again, just as another song began, this time with a heavy, sultry beat. His blood came to a low simmer as he watched the asshat you were dancing with move in close behind you as you turned your back, his hands possessively on your hips as you swayed to the music. Then you did a sexy little dip and roll, and Dean felt his mouth go dry, followed by his temper reaching the boiling point.

Sam said his name as Dean stood up, killing his whiskey in one swallow, but the blood rushing in his ears drowned it out as long, purposeful strides carried him over to you. “We need to talk,” he demanded as you stopped dancing, staring up at him incredulously.

“Seriously, Dean? Right now?”

He grasped your hand with a firm grip. “Right now.”

You shrugged and rolled your eyes at your dance partner when he protested, but Dean’s murderous expression cut him off, and he backed away, hands held out in surrender. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”

“Good choice,” Dean muttered, and to keep from making a scene, you let him lead you through the bar and out the front door. He didn’t stop until the two of you were in the back parking lot next to the Impala, and then you jerked your hand away, planting your feet and glaring up at him.

“What? I was dancing, having a good time. What is so goddamn important?”

“Dancing? Really? He was practically dry-humping you on the dance floor!”

“So?” You shouted the word at him, anger sparking in your eyes. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, no words coming to his rescue. “Why do you even care?”

His jaw worked as he tried and failed to look you in the face. “Because I do.”

You moved a step closer to him. “Why?”

He huffed out a frustrated breath. “I just do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right. Because we’re such good friends, and that guy is no good, and you’re just trying to protect me. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Yeah,” he said defiantly, and you shook your head.

“Not good enough. Every guy in the world that I look at can’t be bad news, Dean.”

His lips were pressed tightly together, the dimples that always deepened when he was angry or frustrated showing clearly in the dim light. “I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anybody with me. Why don’t you just tell me why?”

“I told you why.”

You jabbed a finger his direction, your voice rising. “If you don’t tell me the fucking truth, I swear to God I’m going back in there and do him right on the dance floor!”

His glare sent a little thrill up your spine. “The fuck you will.”

“The fuck I won’t.” You whirled around and took a step back towards the bar, but he grabbed you, jerking you back and turning to trap you between his body and the car. You shoved at his chest in frustration. “Why don’t you just admit how you feel?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

He looked away, avoiding your searching eyes. “No, I fucking don’t!”

“Admit that you want to be with me.” He still avoided looking at you, and you bit at your lip hard, then forced the next few words out, fear making you feel a little sick. “If you don’t want to be with me, Dean – you’ve gotta let go. I can’t – we can’t keep doing this.”

There was a tense pause, a few seconds where you thought you might have to just walk away. When he spoke, his voice was hushed, strained. “I can’t stand watching some asshole touch you the way I want to touch you.” He finally looked at you, the intensity in his gaze making your heart jump. “Yeah, I want you, so damn bad it scares the hell out of me.”

You stared up at him, reading the truth in his eyes. “Fucking finally,” you said, standing on tiptoe, your arms wrapping around his neck as you kissed him, his body warm and solid as he crowded you against the car. He deepened the kiss with a low groan, one hand coming to rest at your waist as the other trailed slowly from your jaw down the length of your throat, finally finding your breast and kneading at it as you arched into his touch.

When you finally stopped, he leaned his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. “Where are your keys?” he asked, and you reached into the pocket of your skirt to pull them out. “I’m gonna take these in to Sam. I’ll be right back.” He kissed you again, soft and quick, and backed away, letting you open the car door and slide inside.

He was back in a flash, slipping in beside you. He leaned in to kiss you again, then raised his head, pulling his bottom lip in as if he were savoring the taste of you. “You ready?” he asked, his voice raspy and low, and you smiled, your eyes shining.

“So ready.” His lips curved in a sexy smirk as he started the car and backed out, his hand warm on your lace-covered thigh as you headed down the road.

You scooted a little closer, returning the favor and tracing little patterns on his jeans, feeling the muscle shift beneath your fingers as he braked at the stop sign at the edge of town, then stepped on the gas. His hand was stroking slowly over your thigh, moving a little higher each time until he slipped under the hem of your skirt, and he swore under his breath as he touched the bare skin above your thigh-high. “Not sure we’re gonna make it all the way home, sweetheart,” he managed to get out, and you laid your head back on the seat next to his shoulder, smiling up at him.

“I’m okay with that.”

Dean took a sharp turn onto the next gravel road, and by the time he found a trail where he could pull off and park, you had gotten your boots off. You moved so he could slide out from under the steering wheel, and he watched you with hunger in his eyes as you finished shimmying out of your skirt and began to peel off your shirt.

He watched every move as you climbed aboard his lap, nothing but black lace and silky skin, and he swore as you settled on top of him. “Jesus, baby,” he said, shifting his hips a little as you trapped his hard-on between you. “You know you’ve been driving me crazy for months now.”

He was reaching for you, but you grabbed his hands, holding them against his chest as you fixed him with a stern stare. “Well, whose fault is that?”

He ducked his head with a rueful smile. “Mine. Totally mine.” He looked back up at you as you nodded.

“Damn straight.” You tilted your head, an evil glint in your eyes, then leaned forward and gave a gentle tug on his lower lip with your teeth. “I should make you wait.” You couldn’t help but laugh when a little whine escaped his throat as he looked at you with the most pathetic sad-puppy face you’d ever seen. “Awwww,” you cooed as you bent to kiss him, shifting your hips and making him groan at the friction.

You finally let go of his hands, and then they were everywhere, exploring, squeezing, grabbing handfuls of your ass and pushing, rubbing you rhythmically against his hard cock. You raised your head, letting it drop back as you lost yourself in the sensations. “Are you gonna be mad at me if I ruin these?” he asked, plucking at the waist of your panties.

You lowered your chin and looked into his eyes. “I don’t care if you set them on fire, as long as it ends up with you inside me,” you said breathlessly, watching his face as he swore softly and moved his hands to one side of your hips, then the other, ripping the lace apart.

“Lift up for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a little breathless, and he tossed the ruined scrap of cloth to the floor of the car before reaching under you to cup your pussy in his hand. “Christ, baby, you’re so wet. Gonna let me slide right in, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, “Hurry up, I need you.” You were fumbling at his zipper, and he chuckled softly, pushing your hands aside and taking care of it himself, shoving his clothes down as far as he could reach with you straddling him. You reached to hold him steady as you centered yourself over him and sank down on his cock, inch by delicious inch until he was fully buried inside you, so deep it ached in the best possible way.

You squeezed your eyes closed, overwhelmed for the moment. When you opened them again, Dean was watching you intently, and he cupped your face in his hand, leaning in to capture your lips in a lingering, tender kiss. “Sorry I waited so long,” he whispered, then kissed you again, slanting his mouth over yours with a moan as you opened to him, your hips grinding against him as he bucked upwards in response. “So – fucking – perfect,” he groaned in between kisses, each word emphasized with a thrust, and you reached up to brace your hands on the Impala’s roof, bearing down to take him as deep as possible.

“Dean! Fuck…” you managed to utter breathlessly as he bent his head to bite and tug at your nipple through the lace of your bra. The car was rocking and creaking in rhythm with your motion, you and Dean both panting as you fucked each other with the reckless need of passion too long suppressed.

Your orgasm hit you just when your thighs were trembling in exhaustion, electricity firing through your veins, his name a keening cry as you came undone. Dean swore as you clamped tight around him, a velvet vise that soon sent him over the edge, and he flooded you with his release, pulling you close to his chest as you collapsed against him with a whimper, your strength spent.

You clung to him, a helpless little whine smothered against his shoulder as an aftershock shuddered through you. His arms wrapped around you tight, crushing you to him as if you were going to disappear. “I got you, baby,” he said softly. “I got you.”

After a time, you sat up, leaning in to kiss him before looking into his eyes with a sweet smile. He gave you a lazy, crooked smirk in return, his head resting back against the seat. His eyes roamed over your face, then down to your chest, warming as he took in every detail of your breasts still covered in black lace. “Didn’t even get to see,” he muttered, and you laughed softly, reaching to stroke your fingertips along his jaw line.

“Well, take me home, and you can see anything you want,” you said, your smile growing as he arched an eyebrow, his cock twitching inside you. “Or we can just stay here, I guess,” you teased.

“Let’s go home, give my memory foam something to remember,” he rumbled, leaning up to kiss you. He shrugged his flannel off his shoulders, and you helped him take it off. “Here, you can use this if you wanna clean up a little, since somebody ruined your underwear.”

You moved away from him with a kiss and a sigh, getting dressed while he adjusted his clothes. He slid back behind the wheel, and you tucked yourself under his welcoming arm for the ride home.

The bunker was quiet when you got there, and the two of you made your way to Dean’s room, whispering and giggling, stealing kisses like a couple of teenagers who had broken curfew. When you made it inside, he closed the door behind you and pulled you close for a long, slow kiss, your arms around his neck. He finally let you go, and you sat on the end of the bed, taking off your boots and then peeling your stockings off as he watched appreciatively. “Hey, what do you call that little move you did on the dance floor tonight?”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “You mean this?” You stood up and shifted your hips in the little dip and swirl that had shifted him into action at the bar, watching him catch his tongue between his teeth as he moved closer to you, his eyes following every move.

“Mmmm, yeah. That.”

“Well – I call it…” You pulled your shirt off over your head and looked up at him through your lashes. “Bait.” You laughed as he shook his head, a slow grin curving his lips before he pounced on you and tackled you to the bed.

Sam paused for a second in the hallway outside on the way to his room from the shower. The sounds of muffled laughter and a little shriek from you made him smile, and he nodded his head in approval. “It’s about time,” he mumbled to himself, then went on his way.

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[chenouttachen]

incoming: incomprehensible thoughts about charlie and jeff in ep 7

well. here we are.

my thoughts have been simmering for the past few episodes and now they're boiling over. before we get to today's torment and misery, some highlights that have contributed to our present situation:

charlie taking jeff to the lab, hearing the results and declaring that losing Jeff is not an option. In any situation.

since they've found this family and their place in it, charlie has been able to take on the older brother role in every way - particularly in teasing him and being the person jeff goes to advice

jeff coming to the realisation that, as his powers get more and more out of control, he needs to isolate himself again. especially from the people he loves the most. it was bad enough growing up and seeing their pain, he doesn't want to know what it's like to feel it. and charlie has to stand by and watch his little brother close himself off again, after coming into his own.

when charlie leaves babe after... the incident... jeff tries to be the voice of reason. he knows it rarely ends with charlie listening to him, but he tries his best. charlie also has the sweetest little 'whose little brother are you???' moment and it just cements that if anything, they've become even closer now that everything's behind them (sigh)

(in the process of collecting these screenshots i was reminded that i didn't make any posts about them from eps 2-6 because i was too damn sad)

so now today. episode 7. endless suffering and pain. let's do this.

we've seen the tensions between them rise: jeff has been trying to keep charlie grounded, despite everything going on. but jeff's powers rapidly spiraling out of control has charlie on edge - he's spent years of his life protecting him, and he's not about to lose him, not when he's finally happy. but they're also in a place where they're equals: they share advice (solicited or not), they support each other, and they help each other make hard decisions. or at least, they did until the end of this episode.

at the head of the episode, we've got charlie quitting x-hunter to focus on the drug (allegedly). already we can see guilt weighing heavily on jeff here - he knows that he's a big part of charlie's focus on the lab, and he also knows what a blow this will be to alan.

jeff's not thrilled about this choice, and he takes it directly to charlie, who is kind of stunned, like he doesn't expect jeff to push back so openly. but charlie is also not here for the dramatics.

he's seeing the bigger picture, perhaps too much. he's focused on minimising the circle around him, and trying to ignore the damage that leaves behind. only this leads to charlie having to unravel his motives to distract jeff from alan's heartbreak.

and jeff is jumping on these revelations immediately. he sees the weight of what charlie has decided to shoulder alone, and you can physically see him slump at the realisation that they haven't escaped anything, and that everyone they love is still at risk.

and god, jeff sees right through charlie. he knows immediately that with the increased risk to himself, to x-hunter and especially to babe, there's no way that charlie is going to approach this normally - they faked his death the last time this happened, and jeff was the one who had to pick up the pieces. he tries so hard to break through to charlie, that hey, maybe sacrificing yourself again isn't the best option. but charlie barely hears him. he's so set in his mission to let himself be destroyed in place of his loved ones, that most of what jeff says falls on deaf ears. it's enough though, that it does let babe in later, just a little.

enough time has passed since jeff's last conversation with charlie to know that he clearly hasn't spoken to babe, and jeff has had enough facing all this alone. he watched babe grieve his brother once, and he won't do it again. this doesn't mean he'll throw charlie under the bus, however, because he frames it as something he saw in a vision, rather than a secret that charlie has been keeping alone. he knows that it'll take all of them combined to keep charlie from doing something incredibly stupid. alas...

at the hospital, charlie is all questions at first. he wants to know what's happened, how the visions have progressed, but the longer he looks at jeff, the longer the silence lasts, the clearer it becomes that things are so fucking wrong. jeff isn't seeing him, isn't hearing him; he's stuck in his vision. he's visibly shattered when he realises that despite being awake, jeff is barely in the room with them. it's impossible for him to accept the version of his little brother in front of him. he can't leave him like this.

jeff's condition cracks something in charlie. usually he's the first to offer solutions, to keep the ball rolling and make sure they have a goal. but he can't do that. alan's trying to be optimistic, asking about the drug, putting his faith in charlie. but charlie knows they're not close. not close enough to help jeff. he can't even stand and face them - he sits, barely looking at them.

every second that charlie spends listening to alan talking about sacrificing himself to protect jeff and x-hunter breaks him down further. he knows that jeff would hate that and you can see the exact moment he makes his choice. charlie cannot sit idly by, letting his loved ones suffer, when there's something he can do about it, regardless of what it will cost him.

truly it was sick of them to start this sequence focusing on charlie's hands. this is the first time we've seen him be so intentional with his powers, seen him carry himself with the weight of what his touch can do (and oh, isn't that a fun and heartbreaking parallel with jeff). we also get this shot of charlie looking over jeff in his hospital bed. charlie has surely seen jeff in vulnerable positions before, but this is the first time the younger man has been truly helpless. and charlie has realised that he can help.

he hesitates, because he knows that jeff (rightly) would be pissed about him doing this. he's never used his power on jeff, because jeff explicitly asked him not to. but charlie can't ask jeff for permission right now, and he needs to act, needs to help him. so he takes jeff's power without consent.

jeff, of course, wakes up to this violation of his bodily autonomy. he's horrified by what charlie is doing - both because he's taking the choice away from jeff, but for what it'll mean for charlie. they've always talked it through before, even if charlie doesn't listen. they've been partners, equals, but charlie sacrificing himself in this moment is almost a betrayal of that. charlie is desperate to save his brother, but he forgets that jeff feels the same way. charlie is stripping them both of the chance to face this together. (but god, that shot of their hands together, clinging to each other for all the wrong reasons)

we're left with this shot of our brothers out cold, senses overwhelmed by what's just happened to them. their worlds are going to be irrevocably changed when they wake.

also shout out to jeff's bracelet on the bedside table which literally brought tears to my eyes when i spotted it.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Look Alike

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3)

Warnings: eating disorder, mentions of depression, attempted murder, I didn’t copy the episode exactly so probably some mistakes

Synopsis: an angel is going around killing anyone who is suffering—but what happens when it goes after you?

A/N: this one is kinda heavy guys, so if this is a topic that will trigger you PLEASE do not read it. And please remember—I think you’re beautiful, and always remember to eat something, even if it’s just a snack, even if it’s not “good for you”; eating something just because you like how it tastes is better than not eating anything at all. Love you guys!

Your fingers fumbled as they retrieved your picture of Mary Winchester, tattered and faded at the edges. You looked from the picture to your own reflection, your heart plummeting.

Your mother had this…this look about her; she was slender and beautiful, but also strong. Strong enough to be a hunter.

You looked at your own reflection again before ducking your head, tucking Mary’s photo back into your wallet.

“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice in your doorway startled you, and you whipped your head around. “Lunch is ready, let’s go…what are you doing in here?”

“Oh, no-nothing,” you muttered, your hands fidgeting. “I’m not that hungry right now, maybe I’ll get something later.”

“Did you eat breakfast?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Um—actually, maybe I will eat now.” you sidestepped his question and his body as you headed for the kitchen. Dean dropped the subject, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were going to have to be more careful about your eating habits—or lack thereof.

Of course Dean had made burgers again. You looked to Sam, hoping he’d made something else, but he was happily chowing down on a huge hamburger—apparently he didn’t mind them if they didn’t come from greasy diners.

You forced yourself not to huff; it was impossible to pretend to eat a burger, so you’d really have to eat this time.

“Here.” Dean pushed a plate at you, and you took it without protest.

You managed to choke down about two bites before Dean got a phone call. He spoke for a few minutes before hanging up and addressing his younger siblings.

“Cas has a case. I’m gonna go check it out.”

“A case?” You put down your burger. “I’ll go pack.”

“I can take this one alone,” Dean assured you.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m coming.” You started for the door, hoping he wouldn’t argue.

“You’re not gonna finish your food?” Sam asked.

“I had enough,” you assured him, and ran off before he could argue.

…

“So…he exploded.” Dean was staring around at the pink living room, a grimace on his face.

“Yeah. So completely that there’s not a bit of him left that’s bigger than a grain of sand,” a nearby officer said. Once the officer stepped away, Dean spoke to you. “I’m gonna go talk to Cas, see what he can tell me. You should stay at the motel, read up on some things.”

“Ok.” You shrugged. “Call me if you find anything out.”

“Deal.”

…

“Ephraim.”

“Gazuntite.”

“No, Dean. Ephraim was—is—an angel, his job on the battlefield was to end the suffering of dying angels.”

“End the suffering…let me guess, by blowing them up?” Dean said.

“Unfortunately, yes. It seems that he’s continuing his mission on earth.”

“Yeah, but these people aren’t dying, they just had a bad day.”

“Apparently Ephraim can’t tell the difference between emotional suffering and…”

“And dying?” Dean scoffed. “Cas, this is crazy. Everybody has bad days, this guy is gonna end up wiping out the world.”

“It’s more than just bad days,” Castiel argued. “These people were in serious emotional turmoil. But you’re right—you need to find him.”

“You’re not gonna help?” Dean challenged.

“Dean, I’m just human. There’s nothing I can do.”

…

You stared at the takeout container that Dean had got you before dropping you off. You couldn’t refuse, you knew he would start to notice if you refused too many meals, but you still didn’t want it.

Your stomach growled, and you cringed. Maybe part of you wanted it.

You pushed the container away, opting instead to don workout clothes—the motel had a gym. You’d never be able to be a hunter like Mary, you’d never be able to keep up with your brothers, if you didn’t workout more.

After an hour on the treadmill, you decided it was time to get back to work. You didn’t want to leave Dean in the lurch when it came to research, even if he hadn’t told you any more information. He got this way when he took you on hunts—determined to do it all alone, not clueing you in on anything.

It’s because you don’t look like a hunter yet.

You swallowed hard. You may not look like a hunter yet, but you would soon enough. You just had to skip a few more meals, go a few more days, and then—just maybe—you could be a good hunter. You would look like Mary did, strong and in shape, and your brothers would trust you more.

You slipped back into your room, going straight for your bag to get your picture of Mary. You held it up for the millionth time, looking from it to the mirror. Your heart sank—you weren’t Mary; maybe you never would be.

Your stomach growled again, and you huffed.

“No,” you told yourself. Your eyes flickered over to the takeout container. You snatched it off the table and threw it into the trash. “No!”

You couldn’t give up now—who cared if you were hungry? Sam and Dean gave up a lifetime of sleep to keep hunting, you could skip some meals to do the same. You had to.

You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until a few tears dropped onto Mary’s smiling face in your hands.

“Mom,” you whimpered. “Why can’t I just be like you?”

“I can help you.” The voice behind you startled you, and you dropped Mary’s photo, whirling around and reaching for the gun at your waist and.

“Who are you?” You demanded, raising the weapon.

“That won’t do anything to me,” the man insisted. “And you don’t need it. I’m here to help you. You’re suffering, and I’m here to end it.”

“End it?” You took a step back. “You’re the guy we’re after. You’re the one who killed that man, and that teenager.”

“I ended their suffering,” the man continued, stepping towards you. “And I can end yours.”

“It’s not like that!” The gun was shaking in your hands. You didn’t bother to shoot, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I’m not dying!”

“You are,” he argued. “I can heal your hunger, but I cannot make you eat. But the end I will give you will be painless.”

“What are you?” You demanded, taking another step back. Your back hit the sharp edge of a splintered desk, halting your movements.

“I am an angel. My mission is to end suffering. Let me end yours.”

“An angel, huh.” You put your gun down on the desk as if in defeat. While Ephraim kept his attention on your face, you moved your hand down to the splintered edge of the table and slid it across, drawing blood. Dropping your hand out of sight behind the desk, you began to draw an angel banishing sigil.

Ephraim moved before you could blink, grabbing your wrist and twisting it away from the desk.

“Don’t fight it,” he said. “I can help you.” His free hand was suddenly above you, lowering towards your forehead like death’s scythe.

“Hey!” The grip on you was released at the sound of Dean’s voice in the doorway. “Leave her alone!” Dean had his angel blade out and pointed at Ephraim. “You don’t get to just kill people because they’re hurting.”

“That’s exactly what I was made for,” Ephraim argued. “You didn’t even know she was suffering, but I do! And I can fix it!”

“That’s now how you fix it!” Dean thundered. He lunged forward, stabbing at Ephraim with the blade, but the angel side stepped him and flung him into the wall with a single flick of his wrist. The angel blade clattered to the ground, and you once again found yourself face-to-face with the murderous angel.

“Please,” you pleaded. “Look, I know you think you’re doing good. But humans—they hurt sometimes. But we can do better—I can do better—we’re all just doing the best we can.”

“If this is the best that you can do.” Ephraim shook his head. “Then this is what you need.” He stretched out his hand, and your breath caught in your throat.

You jumped back in surprise when Ephraim’s eyes glowed brightly, his jaw hanging open before he slumped to the ground. Dean stood behind him, a bloody angel blade gripped in his hand.

“That’s not what she needs,” he growled almost to himself. Then his eyes were on you. “Are you ok?”

You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath.

“Ok.” Dean dropped the angel blade. “Now what was that about? Why did he think—“

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“Well what—“ Dean’s voice caught, and you looked up to see him staring at the corner of the room. You followed his gaze, and your stomach dropped. He was staring at the tiny garbage can in the corner, the open and full takeout container fully visible.

“Kid.” Dean swallowed. “When was the last time you ate? And no, that one bite of your burger didn’t count.” Dean’s eyes were on you now, and he petrified you to the spot with his gaze. “I mean when was the last time you really ate?”

“I—um…” your lip quivered and your hands began to fidget. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Ok, hey.” Dean pulled you into his arms when you started to cry. “I’ve got you kid.” He pulled away, brushing your tears. “Why are you doing this kid?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping at your face. “Dean—“ your voice caught and you choked on a sob.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “It’s ok, let’s…let’s go back home, ok? We can talk about it later. Go and wait in the car, I’ll bring the stuff.”

You went to the car without argument, and after you left Dean called Sam.

“Hey,” Dean huffed while he gathered the guns and clothes and tossed them in his bag. “Do you remember the last time you saw Y/N eat? Like, like a full meal.”

“Um…” Sam’s voice came out surprised and hesitant. “No.” Realization hit him. “No, I don’t. Dean, what’s going on?”

“I don’t think she’s eating. Ephraim…Ephraim tried to kill her.”

“I thought you said he only killed people who were…” Sam swallowed. “Who were really broken up, right?”

“Yeah.” Dean stopped packing long enough to clench and unclench his fist. “Yeah. She’s suffering, Sam, and we didn’t even know it. She stopped eating and we didn’t see.”

“Dean…” Dean heard Sam’s deep breath through the phone. “I’m…I’m gonna do some research while you get here. Try and talk to her on the ride home, ok? Maybe…we’ve gotta help her, Dean.”

“I know. We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Dean hung up, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said to himself, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture in the middle of the floor. He stooped to pick it up—it was Mary, when she wasn’t much older than you. Dean tucked it into his back pocket. “Ok.”

…

“Hey kid,” Dean greeted as he tossed his bag in the back. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and you didn’t acknowledge him.

Dean let silence reign as he started up the Impala and headed down the road—he couldn’t force you to talk.

“I just wanted to look like her,” you said suddenly, your head resting against your knees.

Dean turned his head to look at you. “What?”

“Mom. I don’t look like her. She was such a good hunter, and I just wanted to be like that.”

“Kiddo—“ Dean’s voice caught. “Kid, you don’t have to look like her to be a good hunter.”

“But I can’t keep up with you.” You sniffled. “I thought if I looked like her…I could keep up with you.”

“When we were your age, we couldn’t have kept up with us,” Dean argued. “Besides, this isn’t…you don’t become a better hunter by starving yourself, kid.”

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as your fingers clenched on your jeans, bunching up the fabric before you let it go. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

Dean forced himself to breathe through the pain, taking a moment before offering you a strong smile.

“That’s what we’re here for, kid. Me and Sammy are gonna help you.”

…

“Hey.” Sam’s hug when you stepped into the bunker was surprising and long. You heard Dean’s huff from behind you, but Sam ignored him.

“Hi.” Your greeting was muffled against Sam’s jacket, and he finally pulled away.

“Ok, so um, I’ve been doing some research, so I’ll show you what I got.” Sam reached behind him, picking up printouts from the internet. “I have a list of foods that are supposed to help, and um, I also made up a schedule—that’s supposed to make it easier—and if there’s any specific food you want me to pick up when I go out you can tell me. Or hey, you can just come with me and pick stuff out and—“

“Hey, dude,” Dean cut in with another huff. “I told you not to freak her out about this.”

“I’m not freaking her out!” Sam’s eyes went back to you. “Wait, am I freaking you out?”

“Um…” you picked at your hands. “It…it’s a lot…”

“We’ll start out small,” Dean insisted. “You want some toast?”

“Bread is good,” Sam piped up, holding up one of the research pages.

“Toast sounds good.” Your lips twitched up even as your eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, ok.” Dean’s arms were around you suddenly. “You got this, ok? We’re right here to help you.”

“Ok,” you sniffled.

Dean pulled away. “Ok. Now let’s get you something to eat, and then Sam can freak you out about everything he read.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I think I can do that,” you sniffled.

“I know you can.” Dean grinned. “Oh, hey—“ Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out your picture of Mary. “This is yours.” You took it with a shaky hand, and when you looked back up Dean was bending down to stare into your eyes. “Hey. You’re just as pretty as mom. And she…she would want you to take care of yourself, ok? And so would dad. And so do we. Kapeesh?”

You threw your arms around Dean.

“Kapeesh,” you told him.

“Ok.” Dean pulled away, reaching up and brushing a stray tear off your face. “Now let’s go get that toast.”

Taglist:

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