#press play on the day that queue came into my life

[mickeyswhore]

I'm Gonna Kill You

A/N: My first time posting a fic in this brand new side blog, if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging it and if you want more you can follow me.

Summary: Randy is your best friend in the entire world, Billy doesn't enjoy the power he has over you and decides to do something about it.

Billy Loomis x Reader

Warnings: toxicity all around, a splash of daddy kink, filming without consent, a little bit of degradation, death (I mean it's Scream) but nothing gory, let me know if I missed anything else.

Want me to make a Tag List? Here!

GIF by @coppoladelrey.

You and Randy were born on the same day, your mothers went to High School together so the two of you were bound to become best friends. Your friendship with Randy is great, the two of you spend most of the time together and you barely ever fought. There is one massive problem in your life and you weren’t even aware of, Randy loves you, he loved you since you stood up for him in kindergarten but you were obvious to his love, Randy was happy to be just your friend but that doesn’t mean he would allow you to have a love life.

You trust Randy with your life, if he says that someone is not good for you, you listen no questions asked. Randy takes full advantage of the power he has on your life, a sick power 

play that you weren’t even aware of. If pressed on the issue, Randy would swear up and down that it is for your own good, but he knows the truth, he’s too scared to admit his true feelings but more than happy to cock block you without you being aware.

Being a virgin was one of your main concerns in your otherwise uneventful life, you had Randy as your best friend and a few acquiescences mainly Sidney, Tatum, Stu and Billy. You loved hanging out with them even if you weren’t as close, Stu made you laugh to the point of almost peeing your pants, Sidney and Tatum were extremely and the three of you went shopping at least once a fortnight. The only person you didn't spend time with was Billy, not because you didn't like him, quite the contrary he simply intimidated you too much to allow you to exchange pleasantries with him, his piercing chocolate brown eyes made you all warm and tingly inside. 

You never said anything to Sid and Tatum because Sid and Billy used to be a couple in Elementary School and Tatum was her best friend, Stu was too much of a jokester to take anything seriously and he would run to Billy and the two of them would probably laugh, not because they were cruel but simply because Stu would never take this seriously. Then there was Randy, the only person that knew everything about your life except this major crush on Billy Loomis but life goes on.

Casey Becker and her boyfriend were murdered and the whole town was on edge, and Randy was going on and on about horror films and you thought it was in poor taste, this isn’t a film! People are dead! So you gave him the bullshit excuse of getting your period and you basically qucicked him out of your house.

You decided to go to a coffee shop and just be alone for a change, you said hi to the barista gave her your order and after getting your drink you were sitting down by the window. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular but Billy Loomis came to the forefront of your mind, as he usually does. His eyes, his lips, his hair. As if it was on queue, Stu Macher spots you from across the road and ran towards the coffee shop.

“Stu, how are you?” You smiled seeing him, maybe that meant Billy was nearby? Stu didn't miss your eyes wondering, looking for Billy.

“I’m good, you know? Hey, would you like to hang out? Tatum is busy right now and you’re super cool, so…” Before you could he was getting your bag and helping you get up, you simply laughed and followed him, you truly enjoyed his company.

You’ve to Stu’s house a couple of times but only with Randy, maybe this was a good opportunity to actually be friends with Stu. He opened the door for you and allowed you to get in, he was helping you remove your jumper when you heard Billy’s voice.

“Where the fuck were you? Did you bring the…” Billy stopped in his tracks when he finally saw you, and Stu couldn’t stop grinning. Billy wanted to get alone with you for ages but Randy was always there, Stu really did him a solid.

“Oh man, I totally forgot I ran into her and totally slipped my mind. I’ll be right back, you don’t mind being here with Billy, right?” You looked at Billy who was already looking at you and you looked down and shook your head. “Okay, bye.” And just like that Stu was out of the house.

You still kept your gaze down, playing with your shirt. It was so hard to keep eye contact with Billy Loomis.

“Hey, we can watch something on the TV.” You simply followed Billy but still keeping your gaze down, Billy thought you were the hottest girl at school and now he has you all to himself, he really needed to thank Stu later. The two of you sat down and Billy decided to break the silence. “You don’t like me very much, do you doll?” You finally looked at him with a frown on your face and Billy was smirking. “There she is.” He whispered with a hint of a smile on his face, his thumb went to your chin and goosebumps rose all over your body, Billy wasn’t blind to the effect he had on you.

Billy wanted you since the two of you were freshmen, but Randy was always hanging around you like a leach, in Billy’s eyes. He wanted to kill Randy as his and Stu’s first victim but Billy wanted Randy to suffer after hearing the two of you talking. Randy let it slip rather loudly that you and him were still virgins and Billy thought Christmas came early. He wanted you for the longest time and finding out he was going to be the first man in your life, to touch you, to make you cum? His cock got incredibly hard just thinking about you moaning underneath him, riding him and eating you out like you were his last meal.

“I like you, Billy…it’s just that…” You took a deep breath, how could you explain your predicament?

“You don’t want to hurt Randy’s feelings?” Billy almost believed his own tone, it felt so sincere and honest, he almost wanted to laugh at the relief on your face.

“Yes, we’re not dating or anything.” You wanted especify, and Billy smiled. “But he’s my best friend, literally since day one. And I have no idea why he doesn’t like you very much.” You started playing with your nails and Billy raised your chin to look in your eyes, his piercing gaze was giving you burtterfiles in your stomach.

“We can take this slow, yeah? I want to do this right and take you out for dates and you be my girl, yeah?” Billy looked at you expectantly, and you nodded biting your lip. After that, he kissed you. He couldn’t believe that he finally got the girl of his dreams.

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

It has been months since you and Billy started dating, and you couldn’t be happier even with the killings getting progressively worse. You had Billy to protect you, so things weren’t as scary. The only problem was Randy, he comes to your house unannounced and Billy has to hide and it’s always when the two of are about to fuck, it seemed that Randy had this radar to find out when you were about to lose your virginity and it was driving you and Billy insane. You were more than ready for this and Billy had major blue balls for months.

The two of you were now at school, talking in the hallway. Billy wanted nothing more than to take you to the nearest bathroom and fuck you in the stall but he knew that you deserved much better than a quick and cheap fuck, you were his dream girl.

“I asked my parents for the lake house this weekend and they allowed. I can pick you up right after school, is that okay?” You nodded and smiled, you couldn’t believe how romantic and thoughtful your boyfriend was. The two of you were very good in not having PDA at school but you were so excited that you kissed him and Billy was more than happy to oblige. 

His hands went to your waist and yours went straight to his hair, Billy’s hnads were about to land on your ass when the two of you heard his voice.

“Unbelievable.” Randy yelled and you stopped kissing Billy, you had a guilty look on your face but Billy was angry. “You’re with him? Mr. I am clearly a serial killer.” Billy was about to beat Randy up when you stopped him.

“Look, Randy. I am so sorry for not telling you before but saying this shit about Billy is not cool. If you can’t accept him, don’t talk to me again.” You grabbed Billy’s hand and walked away while Billy had the biggest grin on his face. Once the two of you were outside, he hugged you.

“Are you alright? I know how important Randy is to you, I don’t want to get in the middle of your friendship.” Billy was selling this so well, and you just smiled and shook your head.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever! And no, don’t ever say that, Randy will come around eventually. I don’t want this to stop our little getaway.” You were going to handle Randy later after you spent time with your boyfriend.

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

Billy’s car stopped right in front of the house, it was so pretty and quiet you loved it. Billy took both of your suitcases and guided you to the front of the house. The door was opened and everything inside was very rustic, it was perfect and apparently Billy’s parents had people come and clean in preparation of your stay there, they were always so thoughtful. Billy put your suitcases on the floor and looked at you.

“So, do you want a tour of the house?” He smiled at you.

“Start with the bedroom.” You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist and Billy did exactly that.

He opened the door and dropped you on the bed, even though you were a virgin Billy could tell that you liked it rough. Every bite that was a little too rough, you had to stop yourself from moaning and rubbing your thighs together, every whispered ‘good girl’ on your ear made you sigh and bite your lip and one small ‘my little slut’ made you moan.

“I’m gonna fuck you right now, baby. Is that what you want? I wanna hear you beg.” Billy started kissing your neck and biting it and nodded your head fervently. You wondered if people could die of horniness for a second. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want from me?” Billy was taking off his shirt and still kissing you.

“I want you to fuck me, daddy.” You put your hand over your mouth, he wasn’t supposed to know but Billy had the biggest grin on his face.

“Yeah? You want daddy to destroy your little pussy even though is your first time? Is that what you want?” Billy finally started removing your clothes, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“Please, daddy. Fuck me, I need it please.” You didn't care about sounding needy, Billy was your boyfriend and you loved him and he loved you.

Billy’s cock was so hard and you could see how big it was even through his underwear, your mouth was watering at the sight.

“Does my needy little slut wants me to fuck her throat?” Billy removed his underwear and you could see his cock leaking with pre cum, it has been so long since he fucked anyone.

“Yes, please daddy.” You got on your knees and looked at him with the biggest innocent eyes he has ever seen, fuck Billy could cum right now just by looking at you.

“Open your mouth, baby.” You did exactly that, you licked the head of his cock tasting his pre cum and you slowly started to take him in your mouth. Billy was very patient and you took his cock so well, Billy out his head back and groaned loudly. He also made sure that the camera was at the right angle.

Billy’s hands went to your hair, you were hollowing your cheeks and also playing with his balls. He held your head in place and started to fuck your throat, the noises you were making were pornographic and Billy loved every second of it.

“Oh, fuck I’m gonna cum.” Billy removed his hands from your head but you kept sucking his cock. “Fuck, baby.” Billy came, thick ropes of cum down your throat and you swallowed it all. You were still on your knees and you opened your mouth you to show Billy that you swallowed it all. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky?” He helped you get up and kissed you passionately, he finally removed your bra and took one nipple in his mouth, now it was your turn to get your hands on his hair, Billy carefully laid you on the bed and removed your panties.

Billy opened your legs started sucking on your clit, he was relentless and again your handd went to his hair. You were moaning and panting, the feeling of his hot, wet tongue on your pussy is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Billy was enjoying very much seeing you fall apart with only his tongue.

Your moans started getting louder, and the grip on his hair got stronger. Billy’s tongue was working faster to bring your orgasm quicker, he also inserted a finger to slowly start stretching you out. He was was observing all of your reactions, how your legs were shaking and how your moans were louder by him finger fucking you.

“Billy, I think I’m gonna…” You knew your body very well, but this was different.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my face.” Billy sped up his ministrations on your clit and you pulled his hair and you came hard, your eyes were shut and pleasure that you never felt before ran all over your body. When you finally came to it, you felt under the bed wet, quite wet. When you looked over, you started panicking.

“Oh my God, Billy I’m so sorry. I have no idea why this happened?” Billy shushed you and kissed your forehead.

“No, baby. You just squirted and it was hot as fuck.” He kissed you and he laid on the bed again.

Billy pinched your nipples and you moaned into his mouth, his hands were all over your body and vice versa. Billy was about to burst, he was painfully hard again and he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Are you ready, baby?” Billy put his hand on your cheek and his eyes were looking into yours and you’ve never felt more connected with him before.

“More than ever, Billy.” 

“Okay, I’ll go slow. Let me know if it hurts, alright?” You nodded and Billy positioned his cock at your entrance, he was looking at it then at you.

You felt his thick and veiny cock on your pussy, Billy had to contain himself and not cum at that second. Your velvety walls milking him, Billy was groaning and moaning in your ear, inch by inch his cock was entering you. Billy was fully inside you now and stopped to compose himself, your pussy felt like heaven to him. You on the other hand was almost passing out from the overwhelming pleasure his cock was giving you and you wanted, no, needed more.

“Please move, Billy.” He obliged and started moving slowly, the last thing he wanted was to hirt you. He found a comfortable pace for him and you. “Harder, please.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and with that all of his self control was gone.

Billy started punding into your pussy with reckless abandon, your nails digging on his back the noises coming from felt like you were in a porno. 

“Do you like that, baby? Is that what you wanted my dirty little slut, huh?” His filthy words were driving you insane. You started clenching around him and Billy started laughing condescendly. “You like that, huh? You like being my little slut?” You only nodded, the pleasure wouldn’t allow you to speak, the noises were louder and louder. “Are you cock drunk already, baby? You can’t even speak right, can you? I want you to cum on my cock, baby.” Billy’s thumb went to your clit and started making hard and small circles, he wanted to see you falling apart.

“Billy, I’m gonna…” You didn't finish your sentence, and you came on his cock and Billy helped you ride out your orgasm. Billy started chasing his own orgasm, you were sensitive but the line between pleasure and pain were blurred and that resulted in more pleasure for you.

“You’re gonna take my cum, aren’t you baby? You’re gonna let me cum deep inside your pussy, imagine if I got you pregnant?” You clenched around him and Billy laughed. “You want everyone to know that you’re my little slut? Walking around with a big belly and huge tits full of milk?” Billy stopped and came with a groan, he was breathless. He kissed you and removed his cock out of you. He laid down and pulled you over to him, he started kissing the top of your head and caressing your arm.

“Did you enjoy that?” You asked and Billy could sense the vulnerability in your voice.

“That was the best thing that ever happened to me, you were perfect baby. I love you.” He kissed your forehead and you mumbled ‘I love you too’ and you fell asleep rather quickly. After making sure you weren’t going to wake up, Billy got up and stopped recording, he couldn’t wait to put his plan into action.

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

Randy was pissed, your mom told him that you went on a trip with Billy. I mean what were your parents thinking? Allowing you to be alone with that serial killer? But you were about to come back and Randy was going to do everything in his power to break the two of you up. You never dated anyone before, you couldn’t! You belonged to Randy and he was going to make sure of that, no matter what.

Randy got in his bedroom, he found a tape that was odd he didn't recognise it. He put it in the VHS anyway, and he recognised you immediately, on your knees for Billy Loomis, Randy was about to take the tape and show it to you how Billy is gross and you should break up with him, but he got a call.

“Hello, Randy.” The modulated voice said.

“Billy, you sick fuck. I’m gonna fucking destroy you, she’ll never look at you again.” Randy was screaming, he couldn’t wait to destroy your relationship, that way you would fall for Randy and realise no one but him is good enough for you.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that Randy.” The voice was tauting him and Randy was furious.

“And why is that?” Ghostface opened his closet and was right behind Randy.

“Dead men tell no tales.” Randy turned around but only in time to be stabbed in the neck, after that Ghostface grabbed the tape and left Randy’s house.

Billy was with you when you heard that Randy was killed by Ghostface, he comforted you and said that everything was going to be okay.

“I was angry at him the last time we saw each other, I’ll never forgive myself.” Billy shused you and said that it wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t have known.

Billy held your hand through the funeral and made sure you didn't fall apart, you were so lucky to have in your life. Billy was overjoyed, he had his girlfriend all to himself and he didn't have to hide or worry about the nerd that hanging over her, everything was right in the world.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 12: Marking with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader Word Count: 730 Warnings: Marking, P in V sex, Possessive behavior, Mention of douchebags, Semi-Public sex (Bar bathroom), Hickeys, Biting, Possible unprotected sex (Unspecified).

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

The sounds of both your bodies were echoing off the walls of the dingy bathroom of the Hideout, mixing with Eddie’s heavy breaths and your little whimpers, trying so hard to stay quiet while Eddie made it his life’s mission to make you be as loud as possible.

The porcelain sink was cold under your touch as you leaned over it, ass in the air with your little skirt flipped up over your hips, panties dangling around your knees while the metal head behind you pounded away, filling your pussy over and over again.

“C’mon, Sweetheart…Let’em hear how good I make you feel…” He urged with a feral grin.

A shiver ran up your spine as you bit your lip, letting out another breathy moan that you buried in the crook of your elbow.

Tonight is Corroded Coffins’ normal night to play at the local bar, and you’d attended as you often do to support your boyfriend and his friends.

The thing that made this time different, was the trio of young men seated at the bar, colorful polos with popped collars, quaffed hair and arrogant smirks. They reminded you of Steve, but far douchier than he could have ever dreamed of being.

One had eyed you when you entered, making rude comments as you passed by on the way to the backroom, in spite of the fact you were walking hand in hand with Eddie.

“Bet I could fuck’er better than that loser…” You recalled hearing among other things, far filthier things.

You’d felt Eddies hold on your hand grow tighter, not out of anger at you, no it was all at the other male. Eddie had a possessive streak, and this stranger had just trampled all over it.

It wasn’t often that your boyfriend felt the need to stake his claim, but when he did, he made sure it was very clear.

Often times he would just make you cry out in ecstasy, screaming his name and begging him to make you cum. But this time it felt different, you had a feeling that wouldn’t be enough for him.

So, you reached back toward him, tugging him by the hand till he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back, and tilted your head, baring your neck to him.

He let out a breathy chuckle and you could feel his hair brushing your bare shoulder as he pressed his forehead to the back of your head. “God, I love you…” He groaned, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Show them…” Was all you said, voice airy and more than a little desperate.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He purred before you felt his soft full lips press to your heated skin, a light touch followed closing by the sensation of his teeth sinking into your flesh, not enough to break skin but plenty to leave a beautiful mark that would be a vivid purple in a matter of a few minutes, then he left another, and another.

The sensation had you clenching down on him, earning you a moan from deep in his chest, muffled by where his mouth is occupied. That was his queue to continue his previous task.

He had a needy girl to get off.

His hips returned to their punishing rhythm as he leaned back and brough you with him, causing you to arch your back and press back into his every thrust.

His lips remained attacked to your neck, sucking a smattering of smaller marks to decorate the collum of your neck before switching to the other side to make sure that they would be visible from every side.

 The dull sting of each one just sent new shocks of pleasure across your skin, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

It was with a cry that you came whimpering his name, voice echoing off the walls in a way that felt so loud in your ears, but you didn’t care, not when he attached his teeth to the curve of your neck and growled.

“That’s my girl.” He groaned as he finished, face buried right where his teeth had just been.

After cleaning up, and a quick check in, you both left the bathroom hand in hand, your hair now tied up to show off the new accessories now blooming on your skin.

The look on the assholes face was truly priceless.

[amrass]

Fanfiction updates and excerpts 02.16.24

I think I am getting better after my burnout, which is nice! And I also finished all my main projects, so that's also nice. Thank you for all the kind feedback and well wishes I've gotten, I appreciate them loads.

My life seems to get steadily busier in spring. I'm observing Lent from 02.14 to 03.28 together with my fiancé, who is more religious/spiritual than me, but I enjoy the mental challenge. Our main way of fasting is restricting the internet outside of work, so I won't be online as much. But I still copy paste comments/messages with me, so I can answer when offline.

The upcoming projects are a few old ideas and a few new ones. Lots of Micah, as always. NSFW content under the cut.

Main works: 

Salt 

Colm/Micah, sugar daddy precanon AU, dark content. Currently at part 5, opening Arc 2: "Christmas with the O'Driscolls". Soon readers can look forward to heavy bondage, accidental retraumatization, a murder attempt, spanking, sounding, needle play and piercing play. And Owen O'Driscoll delivering the line "As a boy, I used to weep in butcher shops," while sneaking into Colm's bedroom at night to ... check out Micah. Here is an excerpt from chapter 6:

"Don't be scared," Colm said, choosing the moment when Micah steeled himself to press his nail into the nipple. He imagined the soft, pink space giving in to his finger, all those sensitive nerve endings giving a way for him, engulfing him like a cunt. The steel mechanism kept on making a slight scraping sound when Micah pulled at them, until he drew his legs up, spreading his knees while his ankles remained bound tight together. "You want more?" 

"I'll kill you," Micah mumbled. 

"Yeah, you want more." Colm kissed the skin between Micah's cheek and ear, then finished the remaining shirt buttons. He tugged the fabric to the side so that he could kiss the boy's shoulder, until the hunching made his collarbone jut forward. It looked delicious, and Colm sank his teeth into the bone until Micah whimpered. 

The Lost and the Lethal

A motorcycle gang AU set around 1990-2010, like in GTA 4: The Lost and the Damned, with the RDR2 main cast as bikers and their horses as smaller pets. While out riding, Arthur gets tasked with recovering Micah, who has been missing from the clubhouse for a few days. After finding him in a lethal condition, there's a race to get him to a hospital, with some help from fellow members and a threat from a rival MC gang. My first attempt at whump with an VdL vs O'Driscoll MC fight in the middle. Kind ZanaZira has been helping me out with this, she is a godsend!!!

Micah came and went to the clubhouse as he pleased, unless forced to stay due to an ankle monitor. He guarded his bike like Gollum with the Ring (a reference he wouldn't get despite the gang's frequent film marathons), but it had been parked in the clubhouse garage for a couple of days. Arthur had even gotten a chance to study the red skull details amid the black paint, and read the edgy quote about vengeance scratched into the fender of the bike.

"Just try to find him, that's all I ask," Dutch said.

"Alright," Arthur grumbled, not looking forward to the shift from open roads to city alleys, the car queues, and the trucks riding his ass like randy dinosaurs. Worst of all was the smog trapped between the tall buildings, tickling the scar tissue inside his lungs. "I'll do it."

The Sweet Escape

My take on the Morbellicious "Blessed are the Meek?" scenario. Arthur has Micah where he wants him, jailed in Strawberry, soon to be hanged. Threats, among other things, are exchanged through the window bars, while Arthur is barely concealed by the nightly rain fog, and Micah's cellmate is being an O'Driscoll flavor of bastard.

"I could use a toothpick, and ... " The hand found him and wrapped around his shaft, pulling him out from the fabric. The following silence made Arthur look down, focusing on Micah's expression behind the bars. Micah was staring at his cock. Arthur flushed; was there something wrong with it? The air was cold, and he was too uneasy to be fully erect, but ...

A whistle from the corner of the cell. "Holy shit, that's a huge dick."

Micah whipped around, "Shut the fuck up, O'Driscoll!" His grip on Arthur tightened like a vice, and he groaned like some sort of demonic background choir to Micah's shouting. "One more word and I'll crack you skull open like I did with your friend!"

"Hey, no fighting down there!" a lawman called from upstairs. Arthur and Micah froze. The O'Driscoll held a finger to his lips, and then fluffed his pillows as if getting comfortable before a show.

Other pieces I am thinking of a lot but have not written much of:

Untitled Catboy Micah fanfic 

CRACK. Arthur has to take Micah to the vet to get him fixed, because his kittens are overflowing in the camp. My notes are all there, I just need to write it in one go, as I do with crack fics.

Say that we're sweethearts again

Kind of a sequel to "Through the Wilderness" set 20-30 years later. Old!Micah/old!Arthur. An AU where (low honor) Arthur is tasked to find (low honor) Jack Marston. There's reason to believe (high honor??) bounty hunter!Micah is after him. Having had a stormy relationship ending in Dutch's death, the reunion is tense, and Jack doesn’t help matters. Lol, I loved playing low honor creepy Jack ...

Slug

WARNING: REALLY DARK, HORNY CONTENT. O'Driscoll Gang/Micah. Set in my MC AU, extremely dubcon biker gangbang, O'Driscoll Thrash Party … I wanna write Micah trying to steal from the O'Driscolls, getting chased by motorcycles, then waking up in a concrete garage of some sort. Will include duct tape, drugs, vibrators, boot worship, overstimulation, alligator clamps, spider gags, watersports, the writer slobbering all over the biker wear … Colm is overseeing the whole thing and being his beyond creepy self. Colom boy, I love youuuuu (as a fiction character yada yada)

And that's it! I have a few old projects mentioned in other posts that I might work on later, but for now, my main focus is Salt, the first chapter of the MC whump threeshot, and The Sweet Escape.

[outstandingblue]

Promises to Keep

Eighteen - Three Little Words

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na'vi oc

| Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Nineteen |

What's that thing Wainfleet says all the time? Get some?

cross-posted on ao3 here + wattpad @/beanswolo content warning: explicit language, smut, p in v, fingering, slight cum play (?), alluded breeding kink, miles being rough, teasing, biting, marking, miles almost cums in his pants, blood, mild angst, fluff, cringe word count: 6.3k

Miles was trying to be gentle as he kissed along Jiniraa’s skin, exploring each inch he came in contact with. Her hands explored the expanse of his back, pressing a scratching when he reached sensitive areas of her own body. He was trying to take it slow, but the overwhelming sensations of the bond were making it next to impossible. 

The moment Jiniraa released the smallest whimper imaginable, Miles’ self control snapped in two. He wasn’t able to hold back anymore, no matter how much he wanted to savor this moment. 

Within an instant, Jiniraa was out of Miles’ lap as he pressed her against the floor of the cave. Her hair splayed out beneath her - she looked like the sun. Bright and warm. An essential part of life - she was essential to his life now, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the emotional sentiments as Jiniraa’s lust seeped through their bond. 

Miles’ plank position faltered as her desire mixed with his own. Miles smirked as he slowly traveled down her torso, pressing a sloppy wet kiss at the base of her sternum, “got me losing my strength, babydoll.”

Jiniraa could barely form the words, her rebuttal coming out as breathy pleas for his touch, “please, Miles, I need more.”

Miles nipped at her freshly exposed hip bone, “don’t you worry - I’m just gettin’ started.”

Jiniraa tried to help as Miles slipped the rest of the fabric down her legs, but her excitement and nerves were doing more harm than good, making the task more difficult than it needed to be. Once rid of her flowing pants, Miles traveled back up her legs, beginning at her ankles. Light touches and soft kisses were a juxtaposition to the harsh squeezing and bites as he passed over her knees. As he grew closer to the apex of her thighs, he could smell her arousal. She shifted against the ground in attempts to entice him into doing what she wanted, but there was no need for that. Miles felt like he was already drunk off her pussy without experiencing it yet. 

Although she was comfortable with Miles and trusted him wholeheartedly, there was a sense of anxiety growing in the pits of her stomach as he seemed to delay his actions. Her knees began to close as her arms stretched across her chest, attempting to find a sense of modesty under his intense gaze. Settled between her legs, Miles despised her efforts to hide away. He wasn’t pausing because he was repulsed - which was the nagging fear in Jiniraa’s mind - he was pausing to take in the sight of her.

The way her hair was spread beneath her. The way she had already moved to remove her top of her on volition at some point. The way her entire body twitched in excitement as he trailed his index finger along the inside of her thigh. The way her head would roll back and her back arched slightly off the ground, making the dark bruises around the base of her throat more apparent. The connection of their queues that rested across her stomach, outlined by her arm of glowing dots. He loved it all.

The only thing he didn’t like was the way she tried to shy away. Being connected meant he felt all of her emotions - both the good and bad. He felt her shame and anxiety. Since the day they met, Miles was aware of how she struggled with her self worth, but he thought those negative emotions were far behind them. It seems they prevailed. He hoped she would’ve come to learn over time that there was no need to feel apprehensive around him. He loved her for who she was, even if he hadn’t said those three little words yet - hell, he didn’t even know if the Na’vi said shit like that.

With newfound determination, Miles gave himself a new goal: worship Jiniraa for all she was worth. Tonight wouldn’t be about him - it was about them coming together as one. He was used to being selfish with past partners. Now, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t finish, but it certainly wasn’t a priority as he chased his own high.

Miles grabbed Jiniraa by the hips, pulling her closer against him. Her weeping cunt pressed against his own hardened member, trapped under layers of clothing. He teased, “why you shyin’ away?”

Balancing his weight on one arm, Miles bent over Jiniraa’s torso to move closer to her head. Jiniraa’s eyes were entranced by his every move - his single arm wasn’t straining in the slightest, even though he was balancing hundreds of pounds of muscle on the single limb. 

Once close enough, Miles hummed again, nudging his nose against Jiniraa’s cheek to move her head as he wished. She completed instantly, but ignored his lingering question. Miles wasn’t going to move - he would hover above her pulse until he got his answer. 

Miles almost jumped as Jiniraa’s hand wrapped around the wrist that rested on her hip. He carefully watched her face as she moved the hand where she wanted it to go - where she needed it to go. Painstakingly slow, Jiniraa allowed her knees to fall open to expose her glistening heat to the cool, damp air of the cave. In unison, the pair sucked in a breath as Miles’ fingers made contact with the slick exterior. Miles ran two fingers up the entire length of her slit, trying to familiarize himself with her anatomy.

He cursed as he felt her body clench around nothing, “Jesus Christ, woman.”

Having given up enough control for one evening, Miles took back the reins on the situation as Jiniraa has given his answer. With a glance down, Miles could see how her much smaller hand remained wrapped around his thick wrist as he lazily traced along her slit to tease her a little further. He chuckled, realizing he would have to fight Jiniraa’s iron grip if he tried to retract his hand before she was satisfied. 

Jiniraa whimpered, slightly grinding into Miles' hand, “need you.”

“Gotta stretch you out first, baby, can’t go hurtin’ you,” Miles kissed her clavicle, feeling her heart racing in her chest. His voice trailed off, “wouldn’t forgive myself.”

Holding eye contact, Miles ran a single finger up the length of her slit before slowly pressing inside, meeting little resistance as her slick eased the entry. He remained slow, especially as her face twinged in mild discomfort as one of his fingers was the thickness of two of her own. Miles took her pleasurable whimper to continue, beginning to pump the single finger before adding another once her face relaxed. 

In order to get a better view of her body, Miles shifted to lean on his one side, forearm stretched around the ground. Reaching three fingers, Jiniraa’s hand left his wrist as she began to arch off the ground, trying to grind down on his fingers in time with his thrust. He wasn’t going to withdraw anytime soon, at least not until he came around his fingers. In a flash, Jiniraa’s newly free hand stretched above her head, blindly tapping around to find Miles.

She could feel that familiar build deep with her stomach. In the few times she experimented and touched herself before, it had never felt like this - never this good or building this quickly. 

Miles snickered as Jiniraa’s fingers finally found his own, quickly weaving them together - she was trying to ground herself. Through their bond, Miles could feel her own build affecting his own body. He had yet to take off the makeshift shorts and he deeply regretted it - he was painfully pressed against the rough cloth and unrelenting zipper. Jiniraa seemed to sense his discomfort as he shifted around to find some relief. With her other free hand, Jiniraa tentatively brushed her fingers against the tent in his pants. Now, Miles was never a two-pump chump, but just the feeling of her fingers ghosting over the outline of his cock almost had him cumming in his pants.

“You wanna feel me? Feel my cock?” Miles teased as he shifted his hips out of her reach. Jiniraa pouted, liking the effect such a simple touch had over him, but her thoughts were interrupted as his thumb swiped over her clit while continuing the pumping motion. His fingers began to curl at the apex without slowing down once.

“I can feel you squeezin’ me, baby. Once you cum on my fingers, I’ll fill you up just how you need. How does that sound?”

Jiniraa’s eyes rolled back at his dirty talk - she felt so full as it was with just three of his fingers, she couldn’t imagine being stretched out more, but it was enough to push her over the edge. Her eyes squeezed shut as the orgasm raced throughout her entire body. It was almost too pleasurable and she could barely comprehend what was happening as Miles continued to thrust his fingers into her pulsating body, grinning as she writhed under him. He was so busy trying to catch a glimpse of how her slick managed to saturate his entire wrist that he didn’t see her jaw open before clamping down on the meat of his shoulder. She was trying to ground herself in the moment - the overstimulation became too much and almost rendered her temporarily unable to use her brain. Her fangs penetrated the skin but not too deep. She was able to refrain herself that much, but the blood slowly pooled around the fresh wound. 

Jiniraa licked it clean, while muttering an apology, “m’sorry.”

Miles shook his head as he slowly withdrew his fingers, lightly tapping at her spazing cunt, “you cum like that around my cock and there’s gonna be no reason to apologize. Squeezin’ the life outta my fingers, baby.”

Jiniraa nodded as the aftershocks continued to rack through her body. MIles groaned as he licked his fingers clean - her taste was divine. He wanted to bury his face into her, but if he did that he certainly wouldn’t last long enough to actually cum inside her. As Jiniraa continued to twitch along the ground, Miles took the opportunity to finally remove the rest of his clothing, haphazardly throwing it elsewhere. He didn’t care, but it would be a problem later when he tried to find his belt that was tossed into one of the nearby pools.

“Miles..” Jiniraa whispered.

Miles rolled back, carefully moving to rest over Jiniraa’s body. Jiniraa shook as the tip of his cock lightly brushed against the tender and bruised skin of her inner thigh.

Miles mocked her breathlessness, even though he was light headed as well, “what’s that?”

Jiniraa reached down, dancing her fingers along his narrow waist. She couldn’t reach the object of her true desire, but the message got across, “your turn.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but tonight ain’t about me, sweetheart.”

He wouldn’t say it, but if Jiniraa’s hand or mouth came anywhere near his engorged cock, he would be done for. He wasn’t sure if he would blow his load instantly or not, but he wasn’t about to find out - another time. 

Jiniraa began to protest, but Miles silenced her with his lips. Harsh and aggressive as spit slowly pooled at the sides of their mouths. 

Miles pulled back to sit on his haunches, grabbing one of Jiniraa’s legs to hook it around his hip as her entire body was on display for him. In the dim purplish glow of the cave, her slick glimmered as it dripped down her slit and began to form a small puddle on the ground. 

Jiniraa looked down the expanse of her stomach to find MIles on his knees, gently rubbing at her thigh. He looked bigger than usual from this angle. Each curve of his muscled torso and arms were accentuated by the shadows of the cave. His lids were lidded over and pupils blown out. 

Traveling down his body, Jiniraa found his cock standing tall and proud. Her mouth instantly watered at the sight of it: the tip was a deep purple, seemingly painfully engorged by this point. It twitched as blood continued to rush to the appendage. 

Curved ever so slightly to the left, he was long and thick, even though she didn’t have anyone to compare it to. She’d only heard about her friend’s mates, never having seen a hardened member. She almost laughed - even when her friends would talk about their partner’s equipment - which they surely exaggerated for dramatic effect - came nowhere close to what was waiting for her. 

Miles could tell Jiniraa’s mind was beginning to float away as flashes of her memories passed through their bond. He softly slapped the outside of her thigh “you with me?”

“Yes, Miles, I am with you.”

“You ready?”

Jiniraa gulped and nodded, realizing they finally were there. Even though Miles clearly had the capabilities to hurt her in this time of vulnerability, Jiniraa trusted him. He had the strength to kill her with his bare hands, but he would never create any bruise that wasn’t from her pleasure. 

Miles tried to steady himself. His hands were shaking as he almost felt like a sixteen year old who was nervous to even palm at his high school sweethearts chest through her shirt. Jiniraa was nervous as well, but it was difficult to differentiate between her own anxieties and Miles. To ease them both, Jinraa tentatively took one hand away from her hip, intertwining their fingers while giving a slight squeeze, enough to encourage him to continue. 

Miles snapped back to his usual domineering self, pinning their intertwined fingers to the side of Jiniraa’s head. His other hand continued to squeeze at her flesh, holding her still as he shifted his hips to line himself up. He couldn’t tell what he wanted to watch more - her eyes fluttering closed as she embraced him or how she would suck him in inch by inch. 

He settled on her face as a feather light kiss was pressed to the inside of his wrist.

His first thrust was an utter failure, only clipping the rim of her cunt before sliding through her slit. While it wasn’t on purpose, they both revealed in pleasure. Miles groaned when Jiniraa moaned as the head of his cock rubbed along her clit, still sensitive from her previous orgasm. 

Miles growled in annoyance. He was tired of delaying this. He couldn’t wait any longer. The frustration took over more than he’d realized as he pressed the entire head in at once. Jiniraa’s eyes rolled back as she whimpered, spine curling off the floor as their torsos touched together. 

Miles’ strength faltered as the warmth of her cunt seemed to take over, making his mind go blank. His mouth dropped open in a heavy breath, jaw twitching. Miles wanted nothing more than to press further until their hips met, but he knew it would be too much too quickly. 

Through gritted teeth and razor thin restraint, Miles gritted out, “you - you alright?”

Jiniraa nodded, squeezing at their intertwined fingers. Her head lulled around as she tried to process the new sensation. 

“Words - I need words, baby.”

Jiniraa matched his semi-annoyed tone as she just wanted to be filled, “yes,” she hissed, “just fuck me.”

Miles slipped forward another inch at her vulgar language. He’d never heard her use English profanity, even when she was pissed off beyond recognition. She was desperate for more. 

Mockingly, Miles nodded, “yes ma’am.”

His girth was the hardest to overcome, stretching Jiniraa further than she’d ever been able to achieve on her own. There was a dull ache in her pelvis as he finally settled in. Unknowingly, her vaginal muscles tensed as he pressed forward to the hilt. This time, Miles did collapse on top of her as he tried to suppress the quickly growing orgasm. He needed to move or else he was going to bust, “goddamn.”

He was finally close enough that she could kiss him, trying to distract herself from the ebbing pain as she grew accustomed to his length. He was more than happy to comply, but paused to suck in a breath each time her walls squeezed around him. 

“I know you’re still adjustin’ and all, but baby, I gotta move.”

Jiniraa nodded, but quickly corrected herself knowing he would want a verbal response, “please move.”

Miles kissed the corner of her mouth, “since you asked so nicely.”

His thrust started off slow as he carefully studied her face. The movement caused her eyes to clench shut, but he continued as her muscles became more relaxed. Once those sweet little sounds started to spill from her mouth, Miles took it as a sign that he could dial it up a notch. Just because did not mean he lost any depth - he continued to hit that sweet spot deep inside her with every stroke. 

Jiniraa gargled between thrusts, her entire body shifting along the ground as the momentum pushed her upwards, “Miles… you - it feels - so good.”

Miles lowly moaned, “cunt is so, so sweet, babydoll. I’m one lucky man. It’s mine, right?”

Jiniraa whined at his possessiveness, “yours.”

Without missing a beat, Miles continued, “sucking me in so good. Doesn’t want me to leave. You want it? You want my cum?” Jiniraa nodded, walls squeezing at the thought of him painting her insides. Miles smirked, “oh ho ho, I felt that. You want me to fill you up? Have you drippin’ when we get back? So much that I need to push it back inside. Gotta keep it where it belongs, yeah?”

Jiniraa released a high-pitched moan, scratching at his back as the familiar pressure began mounting in her lower abdomen. Miles felt it as well, but he was trying his damndest to hold off until she came around him. He needed to feel her cum clenched around his cock.

The dirty talk was working, but not quickly enough. A skilled hand navigated to the juncture of her legs, expertly finding that little bundle of nerves. One swipe and she was already convulsing on the floor. It wouldn’t be long.

Jiniraa felt light headed as everything suddenly was so overwhelming. She was deprived of air as Miles continued to smother and kiss her. Her clit, already swollen from earlier, was being relentlessly circled with a heavy thumb. Her entire body continued to rock in time with his deep thrusts, each time pressing impossibly further into her. 

“Miles - I -” 

She was unable to finish the sentence before the wave crashed. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Her limbs wrapped around his body, clinging on as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. In her moment of overwhelming pleasure, Miles sped up his hips in attempts to trail her as closely as possible. Within seconds, he was unloading into her. Half a dozen pumps of sticky cum lined her walls. His balls continued to tighten as they forced every last drop out, milking him for all he was worth. 

With one final thrust, Miles pressed as deep as he could, feeling his cock twitch at the overstimulation as her walls continued to squeeze erratically. Even so, he wasn’t going to pull out anytime soon. No, he would stay deeply settled in the silky warmth. Pulling out now may be too jarring for Jiniraa. 

Once her full body twitching finally slowed to a stop, Miles slowly rolled their conjoined bodies over so she laid against his chest. Nether knew it was possible, but Jiniraa slipped further onto his cock before falling limp against his chest. The first bit of cum slipped out, forming a semi-translucent ring around the base of his cock. 

“That was -” Jiniraa was too breathless to finish the sentence, burying her face into his neck. 

Miles was the same, “yeah.”

After catching their breaths for a minute, Jiniraa traced circles along his bare chest, “the bond is complete now. You are mine and I am yours. Until death.”

Jiniraa licked a beat of sweat off his throat before pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Miles tensed under her, feeling a rush of blood back to his cock, “you better knock that off before I start fuckin’ you again. This time, I won’t be gentle.”

Jiniraa ignored him as they fell into a peaceful silence. Neither knew how long they stayed there as their breaths fell into tandem. After a while, Jiniraa began to wince in pain as her hips tensed from the position. Miles didn’t want to lift her off, but it was going to happen at some point or another. He slowly sat up, making sure not to jostle Jiniraa as she fought the urge to sleep.

Neither enjoyed the sensation as Miles’ strong arms wrapped around her torso to lift her off his soft cock. While the pressure was gone, Jiniraa suddenly felt empty without him. Her walls constricted, forcing a glob of his cum to slip out of her stretched slit, landing right on his balls. Miles groaned at the sight, forcing himself to look away so he wouldn’t grow hard again.

Jiniraa fell limp against his chest as more of his cum began to slowly seep out, tucking her head into the crook of his neck as she tried to find a comfortable position to rest her exhausted body. 

Like before, Miles softly slapped the outer side of her thigh, “c’mon, stay up for just a few more minutes, sweetheart, then you can sleep.”

Jiniraa bashfully whined, “want you to sleep with me.”

Miles' ego soared, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe I just did that.”

Jiniraa half-heartedly swatted his chest, whining as he lifted her off his lap to lay her against the ground. He gently disconnected their queues and suddenly his mind was too quiet without her there. Her hands reached out as he moved away to wet some extra cloth in a nearby pool. His heart tightened in guilt as he seemed to pull away too quickly. 

He pressed a kiss to her sweaty hairline, trying to smooth it down, “I’m right here. Just gonna clean you up.”

Jiniraa was unable to pay attention as Miles cleaned the inside of her thighs, rough fingers lightly tracing the outlines of bruises. He muttered small apologies when her face tightened, but it was only semi-sincere. He managed to remain relatively tame with his marking this time. It seemed Jiniraa enjoyed it as well - the bite mark on his shoulder and thin scratches along his back were proof enough. 

Miles hesitated for a second as he collected their clothing. He knew they should get dressed, especially in case they were to encounter someone or something, but he just wanted to feel her skin against him. Jiniraa was beginning to grow impatient as he took too long, so he quickly shuffled back, but not before grabbing his revolver to keep it close. It was stupid to throw it so far away in the first place. What would’ve happened if they encountered something as he was balls deep in her? Well for one, Miles would’ve ripped someone to shreds if they saw Jiniraa exposed like that - no one would ever have the opportunity to hear her howls of pleasure or see the way her mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

With lidded eyes, Jiniraa reached out for Miles to settle down next to her, “Ma Miles.”

Miles hummed, “what’s that?”

Her exhaustion was undeniable as her words slowed down, “term of endearment. Fondness.” 

Miles hummed again, smoothing down Jiniraa’s hair as she curled into his side. Given the low temperature of the cave, it would’ve been a smarter idea to get redressed, but he was trapped now. There was no way Jiniraa was letting him get up again. 

Miles rubbed at her bare skin, hating the way she was slightly shivering, “get some sleep.”

Jiniraa nodded in agreement. She wasn’t going to fight on that one, “you should too. Sleep.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me. Rest.”

Her breath evened out in under five minutes.

●●●

For the fourth time in twenty minutes, Spider began thinking out loud, “where are they? It’s been hours. She promised to be back before dark. Well, it’s almost dark.”

Lyle and Zdinarsk shared a pointed look. They both made their own observations about what the Colonel and Jiniraa were up to, but they wouldn’t say anything. Afterall, Spider was still a child and they were the closest thing he had to parents. He didn’t ever need to have that mental image in his head.

Lyle widened his arms, roughly slapping Spider on the back, “cheer up kid, I’m sure they’re on their way back. Why don’t you go help Mansk?”

Across the clearing, Mansk scowled at the Corporal. He had finally found solace in the preparation of food and there was nothing he despised more than when someone indeed - not even his darling Renia was immune to his neurotic habits when it came to food preparation. He knew better than to snap at Wainfleet as Spider had been fiddling with his knife for the past hour, periodically sneaking away to see if he could locate the Colonel and Jiniraa. Mansk was the sacrificial lamb to keep the boy entertained.

Begrudgingly, Mansk scooted over to make room for the human. Spider instantly began critiquing the way Mansk was fileting the yerik Spider shot earlier - the first attempt to distract the human was Lopez taking him on hunting expedition. Mansk’s eye twitched under his sunglasses each time Spider reiterated how it wasn’t the Na’vi way, but he managed to keep his cool. 

Lopez was leaning against a tree trunk, repairing a hole in his vest. To no one in particular, he called out. “So you think they finally fuckin’?”

Zdinarsk shot the tattooed Recom a pointed glare, pointing at the human sitting just a few feet away. She was glad Prager and Ja were out on patrol because without a doubt, Prager and Lopez would’ve begun an explicit discussion about the possible sex life of Jiniraa and their Colonel. Spider’s cheeks flushed hot in embarrassment as he tried to hide away. Lopez shrugged his shoulders as no one responded, muttering something about how Miles was one lucky bastard.

A few miles away, Miles and Jiniraa were slowly waking up. Once Miles realized he accidentally fell asleep in the first place, he instantly snapped up to survey their location. He must’ve failed trying to remain awake and keep watch, but it was too hard as Jiniraa continued to curl further into him. His sudden jolting had Jiniraa stirring awake, but at a much slower pace. She was instantly annoyed, ears pinned slightly back as he pulled her from the wonderful sleep.

Miles apologized, “sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to wake ya.”

Jiniraa mumbled something incoherent as she tried to settle back down. Her body was begging to go back to sleep as the soreness began to settle in. She groaned in protest as Miles began to shift away, reaching for his pile of clothes a few feet away. He hastily pulled on the clothing, cursing when he couldn’t find the belt. A thin waist and narrow hips did not agree with standard issued Project Phoenix military pants - his hip bones were on display as the pants instantly sagged at his first step

Jiniraa continued to lay on the ground, having reached over to use his tank top as a makeshift pillow in his absence. She was wide away now as she continued to admire the view of his broad back and shoulders as he navigated the dimly lit cave in search for his belt. Miles cursed, reaching into a shallow pool of water as he finally found his belt, “oh, fuck this.”

Jiniraa grabbed the canteen, taking a few deep gulps of the lukewarm water. While she didn’t want to leave their little bubble, she knew Miles would want to reconvene with the group sooner rather than later, so she may as well start getting herself ready. 

She bit her lip as the thoughts of Spider suddenly crashed down upon her conscience - what would he think? Would he approve? Spider had his father’s ability to hold a grudge, so if he was upset with her, she would have to grovel endlessly until he accepted it. There was nothing they could do to change their mating bond, not that either wanted to. 

Miles’ soft spot for Jiniraa had increased tenfold over the previous night. As a human, Quaritch had never felt this way for a woman. Not even Paz Soccoro, Spider’s mother, who got pregnant during their stint as fuck buddies. His love for Paz was different, mostly because she was something constant in a time of uncertainty. 

But his love for Jiniraa? A whole other level. The softness of her skin, the way her eyes shone in the darkness, the trail of glowing freckles, her little laughs at Spider’s interactions with the other Recoms. All of it. He loved her because she was good. Better than he ever would have deserved, but she still chose him. She chose him because she saw the good Miles had buried deep inside. The chance to do better. She’d given him a reason to be better - for her, for Spider, for his team. 

Miles couldn’t help it as he hastily dropped to his knees, pulling Jiniraa flush against his chest. She was slightly startled as she was in the middle of dressing, but reciprocated nonetheless. She melted against him, but her clinging wasn’t nearly as desperate as Miles’ was. He was scared. Scared of how she made him feel - scared because he felt safe enough to just fall asleep next to her. Scared that now he had something to lose. 

“Ma Miles, what is wrong? What is it?”

Miles shook his head, not wanting to say anything. There was a tightening in his throat - if he tried to say anything, it would come out choked. Jiniraa didn’t push it any further, not needing their entangled bond to decipher the intense emotion he was feeling as his hands began to shake around her. She remained as calm as possible, slowly stroking at his bare back as she murmured reassurances against his ear. 

Miles’ voice was muffled against the skin of her collar bone. Jiniraa tried to pull away so she could hear him better, but Miles grip tightened on her as a sudden shot of fear coursed through his veins. Once again, he mumbled something that was muffled by her skin.

Jiniraa didn’t try to pull back this time as she softly whispered, “what did you say?”

Miles lifted his head from his hiding place to stare into her eyes. 

“I said I love you,” Miles declared. Jiniraa recognized the utter devotion and sincerity he held in them as they were glossed over with a thin layer of moisture.

Jiniraa pressed her forehead against Miles. The words didn’t quite make sense to her as it wasn’t a usual part of Na’vi relationships, but she knew they must’ve held weight as Miles struggled to say time until the third try. 

“Oel Ngati Kameie, Ma Miles,” Jiniraa whispered back. 

Miles laughed, remembering how flustered Spider got a few weeks ago when he asked the kid for a translation, “that your way of sayin’ I love you, huh?”

Jiniraa shook her head, “it means ‘I see you’.”

Miles hummed, not having enough emotional capacity to try and maneuver through the cryptic and riddling complexity of the Na’vi language. He would just imagine that’s what she said. 

There was little rush to leave the cave as they slowly gathered the rest of their items. Jiniraa pouted as Miles strapped his tactical vest back on. It probably was a good thing his back wasn’t exposed, but Jiniraa had no way to cover the bruises that painted her skin. At least the bite mark around the roundness of his shoulder was impossible to hide. 

“Quit your pouttin’, we gotta head back. Can’t delay any longer,” Miles caressed the side of her face. With a huff, Jiniraa took one last look at her special hiding place before beginning the ascent upwards towards the mouth of the cave. Miles followed closely behind, ready to grab at her waist in case the ground shifted under her and she slipped. 

Even though it was beginning to get dark, the light was still blinding as they exited the cave. Jiniraa hissed as she covered her eyes, turning around the shield herself from the sun. Miles rolled his eyes at her dramatics, even though he wanted to do the same thing. 

“Call your ikran. It is almost eclipse and we do not have time to climb up again.”

Miles complied, placing two fingers between his lips and whistling as loud as he could. Jiniraa’s ears flattened slightly, not liking how Miles had cheated and used a human-style call for Cupcake. They waited in silence for a few seconds before the powerful flaps of wings could be heard. Cupcake soared down from above, chittering as he was finally reconnected with Miles. Miles grimaced at the dried blood around Cupcake’s jaw, but said nothing of it. He must’ve just gone hunting and it obviously was successful. 

Even though their exit of the cave was unrushed, Miles’ anxieties were beginning to build once they were out in the open. He wanted to return to the safety of the group as quickly as possible, only pausing for a moment before shuffling Jiniraa towards the jittery ikran. The flight was rather smooth as the winds were working in their favor for once. Jiniraa would wince every once and a while at the soreness between her legs, but it was nothing a few of Miles' caresses couldn’t fix.

As Miles slid off his ikran, maybe twenty or so yards away from the group’s clearing, he paused Jiniraa in her tracks. “You gotta hold back Spider when we get back - that kid is going to try and slice my balls off.”

Jiniraa rolled her eyes at his graphic description, but there was a real sense of fear behind Miles’ joke. She returned his smirk as she turned away, “you are a big baby.”

Spider was pacing around the fire as Jiniraa and Miles finally broke through the treeline. In an instant, he was all up on her like a crazed mother hen with a rapid fire of questions asking where she was, why it took so long, and if she knew how worried he was.

Miles took a half step in front of Jiniraa, trying to save Jiniraa from the rapid fire questioning, “kid, slow it down.”

Miles' protective step was enough to tell him everything. Spider’s eye twitched as he quickly glanced between the two. In his crazed questioning, he hadn’t seen the bruising that littered Jiniraa’s chest and abdomen. Once he saw the bite mark on Miles’ shoulder, Spider lost it.

“You son of a bitch! You fucking -” Spider cursed, waving a pointed finger at the Colonel. Miles stood there with an amused and cocky expression - it just added fuel to the fire. 

Jiniraa was the only one thinking rationally as she tried to diffuse the situation, “Spider, calm down.”

Spider whipped to her, “calm down?! You mated with this piece of fucking-”

Jiniraa’s demand had everyone stop what they were doing. “That’s enough!”

A few of the Recoms snickered at her outburst, but her glare was enough to make their tails go between their legs. Spider huffed through a few breaths, as he continued to glare up at the Colonel. Miles’ lip twitched and everyone knew he was about to make matters a whole lot worse.

To Jiniraa, but loud enough for Spider to hear, Miles murmured, “I told you so.”

Spider unsheathed his blade, swinging it at the Colonel, “you - you fucker.”

Miles had been expecting it, so he jumped back in defense. He didn’t even scrape his pant leg. In a very un-Jiniraa-like fashion, she stepped in front of Miles to stop Spider, but she wasn’t quick enough as Spider accidentally slashed her forearm. Spider was too blinded by his rage to even notice that Jiniraa had moved to protect her mate, but his blade clattered to the ground as he realized what he had done

“I-I’m so sorry, ‘Niraa, really - I didn’t mean-” Spider choked out.

Jiniraa cut him off, trying to suppress her winces, “it’s okay, Spider, really. I’m okay. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Miles was next to Jiniraa instantly to survey her wound, pressing down against it. It wasn’t deep by any means and wouldn’t even need stitches, but in that moment he was back all those weeks ago when she was attacked by viperwolves. All that fear he was so scared about came rushing back. Spider seemed to realize the care the Colonel actually held for Jiniraa as he quickly searched her over. 

Miles fought to suppress the urge to scream at Spider for what he had done, but it would’ve made Jiniraa more upset. With his ears pinned flat to his head as he glared at the human, but softened as he saw the way his hands were shaking. 

The rest of the Recoms were awkwardly watching from their respective seats. Zdinarsk was prepared to tackle Spider to the ground if needed. Lyle had the same thoughts about the Colonel. 

Mansk was the first to speak in the aftermath of the confrontation. 

“Dinner is ready,” Mansk called out, hoping it would diffuse the situation. It didn’t, but everyone was about to have the most awkward dinner of their lives. 

Next: Nineteen - What's Real?

●●●

so this has so many errors throughout it, but i wanted to post before i started driving back to school in a few hours.

i hope you enjoyed and it wasn't too cringe. ain't been bedded in six months (tmi i'm sorry)

Taglist - let me know if you'd like to be added

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@oceandeepthirst2

@bolggerist

@mxddymay

@ttreader

@luciddasher

@sofiebstar

@azilove

@fairycaitlin

@graysonmalik2550

@quaritchxx

@dakotali

@lillybbyy

@biggestsimpever191919

@cr1mz0n-wh0r3

@waterborn-phoenix

@violet-19999

[nikkiitalks]

so now your going to support twiggy who's made a joke about is*ael and palestine and turned it into an rp drama? all because anons convinced you to defend a fellow native playing the victim? really are biased and uneducated damn.

Please show me proof of this post, anon, so I can see how grievously terrible it allegedly is. Going off your logic it'd be 'uneducated' of me to just believe you, an anon, yourself. In fact, after a good scroll, all I see is Twiggy being a staunch supporter of Palestine. Being anti-Zionist. The only rp drama I see is people attempting to twist their words, when they spoke out about people attempting to use Zionist and Zionists supporting FC's. To be clear, I agree with Twiggy. These genocide apologists and supporters don't deserve our support or idolization of them by using them in our spaces.

@twiggyrps IS a friend and fellow native. I will stand up for my brethren until I'm presented with hard proof of disgusting behavior. Which, in my experience with them, would be unlikely.

Your tone and choice of wording don't come across in your favor, either, anon. There's no need for so much contention and insulting in the inbox of a blog on tumblr.com. it feels like you've got yourself very wound up about the rpc. It's unhealthy to be so pressed about something so minor as rp in the Grand scheme of things, as well as unhelpful to speak out against it through anonymity to someone's social circle.

I've never outed someone who came to me off anon, and tbh it's easier to take someone seriously that way. If you were really concerned you wouldn't be hiding behind a grey face. Come at me with your whole chest, if you're that upset and bothered.

If I'm uneducated it's because I'm not sitting here on this dash all day watching every little thing someone posts. I have a life, a family, a child, Health issues, and I'm running an rp. I don't have the time, the desire, or the need to police the RPC over here in a blog that's mainly a queue now just to appease grey faces. The tumblr RPC is the most niche of communities. Let people raise their awareness, they can and should do that, do that yourself, on your views, on your blog. But don't let other people's views and opinions here get you SO PRESSED that you have go on some crusade to destroy reputations and attempt to turn people on their friends.

It's so petty.

I'd say let's all be adults here but one thing life has taught me is that adults can be even more reactionary than teenagers.

If people have a problem with myself or one of mutuals, I truly wish they'd grow a back bone and stop being so cowardly about calling others out. If it's that serious, that important, you shouldn't need to hide behind anon.

[readablenoise]

Radio, Live Transmission: A 28th Anniversary Retrospective on 103.1 The Buzz And It's Lasting Legacy On South Florida

(Pictured Above: 2008 Logo for the Buzz Bake Sale, WPBZ’s annual music festival)

While the station signed off the FM airwaves in 2011, its impact, disappearance and legacy remains prominent to this day.

There is one constant to which you cannot deny; in some facet, in some way, FM radio is heard at least once a day.

Be it in your local coffee shop while you wait for the frother to cease its hissing, inside of a Lyft or your own car, in a retail store (RIP to almost all K-Mart’s) or even perhaps in your own workplace, the medium itself is the oldest driver and receptor of auditory media consumption.

And while there are some television events that will forever be integrated into the ever growing, and increasingly strange fabric of reality, it can arguably be stated that none are as special as radio transmissions.

Think on your childhood. How many of those memories are associated with one of your parents driving in their car, blaring some of their favorite songs with the windows down?

What songs were playing in the background of your first kiss, the volume turned down just enough to hear and feel those first precarious breaths as you both leaned into the unknown?

What songs did your family member have on in the kitchen as they began dinner prep, and you took in the scents and sounds of what would influence you later?

Or maybe your own experience is similar to this particular writers: anxiously waiting to press record as you counted down the minutes to 7pm on a Thursday night. Because this night, tonight on an evening in late September of 2006, when The Killers “When You Were Young” is going to be premiered on The Buzz during Dropping Trou with Ross Mahoney. Finger hovering right over the record button of an old (but reliable) ocean blue boom box. You’ve checked the tape inside about a dozen times, and now you’re just waiting for this Green Day song to finish so you can click it.

Finally, you hear the queue come on for the segment and you mash the button. It’s the World Premiere of the first single from the follow-up of the Las Vegas act and though it’s more than likely being premiered across the country, it somehow feels special. It feels like this is the debut of it on your home station, and the rest of the country can wait.

The special thing about radio, is that every experience is unique. And while every community may or may not have their own rallying call, 103.1 The Buzz, call sign WPBZ, made it somehow feel like this community was the best damn one.

“I was working with a radio consultant at my current station at the time, who was also going to be the consultant for The Buzz. “ says Jason Davis, one of the original DJ’s at the station and host of the weekly Buzz Light show every Sunday morning. “I had expressed my desire to work at a startup modern rock station in a cool market to that consultant before. So when this station was being formed, he had me in mind and recommended I send in an audition.  I did, and the program director, Amy Doyle, heard it and thought it was awful. She called me and told me so, but said I came highly recommended by the consultant so she wanted to give me another chance.  I sent in another audition tape and she liked it, flew me down for an in-person audition, and made me a job offer before I flew back home.”

WPBZ operated in West Palm Beach from 1995 to 2011, being not only a stalwart beacon for alternative music as the sole provider for newer alternative and rock music in West Palm Beach, but provided a rallying point for the entirety of Palm Beach County.

“Everyone who worked there was young and trying to figure out life.” said Dan Stone, who also worked as a DJ on the station and now works as a voice actor and audio producer. “The music and city kinda felt the same. It was where I started to learn production on a DAW which gave me a career as an imaging director and eventually voice actor.”

In addition to the myriad of radio personalities, the station also held the accolade of the Buzz Bake Sale, starting in 1996, with the tagline being 13 bands for $13. The first ever line-up cultivated artists Evan Dando, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Primitive Radio Gods, Butthole Surfers and more onto Coral Sky Amphitheater’s stage.

During its 16 year run, the lineups grew to include Green Day, Reel Big Fish, Foo Fighters, Drowning Pool, Our Lady Peace, Muse, My Chemical Romance, Chevelle and AWOLNATION, to just name a small few of the headliners that graced the bill throughout the years.

“A memorable moment with an artist (there were many) was at the after-party of the '97 Bake Sale and we were standing around having drinks with Green Day.” replied Davis, who is now based in Atlanta as the News Producer for WSB-TV. “I (or someone) asked the singer, Billie Joe Armstrong, if we could snap a photo.  When it came time for the pic, he unexpectedly leapt into my arms. So in the pic, I'm cradling him with a shocked look on my face. Good thing he's a wee little fella and I didn't drop him. Unfortunately that was back in the olden days before digital cameras and the hard copy of the photograph is long lost.”

(Pictured above: The logo for the 10th Year of Buzz Bake Sale in 2006)

“Probably my proudest moment was staying on the air for 36 or 32 hours straight to raise 10k for Forgotten Soldiers. It still upsets me that the only thing people remember was the Handlebars bit.”, said former Buzz DJ Tre Nation, who now works with SiriusXM as an Imaging Producer. “Also, this may not be my proudest but it's one of the things that affected me the most. Standing on stage at Bake Sale and listening to John O’ Connell (Program Director for the station) thank the listeners and say good bye. I still pull up that video on YouTube every now and then and it still chokes me up to this day. I think we all knew what was going to happen, but we didn’t dare say it to each other. I remember walking back stage with Ross (Mahoney, former Buzz DJ and current Regional Vice President of Audacy Alternative) and out of nowhere he told me he loved me. Most would have thought that to be weird but, I knew why he did.”

The station also held sessions such as Buzz Lounge, a special in-studio acoustic performance by an artist. While the performances were broadcasted on air, a select number of listeners would also be allowed in studio to watch the performance, as well as a short interview between the band and one of the DJ’s.

The below performance, uploaded to YouTube of Yellowcard’s “Ocean Avenue” was one such example.

“Working with the other DJ’s & managers, we were truly a TEAM. A band of brothers. And we got to do basically what we wanted.” said Metal Mick McCabe, who was the Production Director for 16 years with the station, and is still involved with the radio industry today. “With the Alternative format, the weirder the better! John (O’Connell) and I really pushed the boundaries of poor taste and humor with the station imaging. ‘Why is it 103.1 The Buzz always sounds better to the hooker tied up in your trunk?' comes to mind…."

Some of the station’s hijinks and various other clips, including the earlier mentioned Buzz Lounge are still available to watch on the station’s archived YouTube page, buzz103 .

“What made the Buzz great was the freedom it gave its staff to say and do what they thought in the moment to entertain and connect with an audience.  The world has become so politically correct that those freedoms have all but been taken away from broadcasters and instead lives in the world of un-regulated podcasts.” answered Mark Rider, former Buzz morning show host who now works as a VA and whose credits also include narration for National Geographic and various commercial campaigns such as “Into The Spiderverse”.

“I’m not sure it would work in WPB.” Nation responded, when asked if he felt a station could operate such as WPBZ did in the current market. “The Buzz came on the air before WPB and Treasure Coast grew into what they are now. That hometown audience has been diluted. Too many people have moved away or just outgrew the music. They have also been replaced by new residents that aren’t necessarily going to support a rock station. A lot like Miami and Ft. Lauderdale. Now it would probably work in a market that’s a bit isolated like a Buffalo or Rochester NY. No one is moving to those places and no one really leaves.”

Since WPBZ’s sign off on December 5th 2011, the city and county remains without a true local alternative or rock station which incorporates newer acts into its rotation.

Currently, the only locally based station within the city range and county remains 98.7 The Gator (WKGR), and while a more modern song does occasionally grace the airwaves, it's playlist caters mostly to classic rock for both this generation and its predecessor.

“I was there for the sign-off. I was the DJ tasked with telling the audience that 'this is it'. I got to thank them and speak from the heart for a little bit. It was very emotional. I played the last song on the air before it switched to the pop station.” elaborates Davis. “The last song was a sweet full-circle moment, Midnight Oil "Beds Are Burning." I smile every time I hear that song since then. The people who were going to launch the new pop station were gracious and allowed me to be in the studio alone for my last break. And I started the song and remained in the studio with it nice and loud for about half the song as I choked back tears. I left the studio, went down the hall, closed an office door and let those tears go. It was like mourning a loved one.”

Since the hole left by the station, there have been an occasional few music festivals to take up the place of an annual local alternative music festival, but none have truly lasted.

Rock venues itself have come down to only perhaps half a handful of major players for smaller acts, which include Respectable Street in Downtown West Palm Beach, and both Propaganda and Bamboo Room in Lake Worth. The lack of a rock radio station in the county has resulted in a ripple effect which has reduced the live music market for Southern Florida to arena shows with exorbitant prices (resell tickets for My Chemical Romance’s sold out show in Fort Lauderdale were upwards of $400 for nosebleed seats, and near double the amount for other closer areas), and a lack of attention, desire and traction for local acts in the area.

A trend which Broward publication New Times noted in their tributary article following WPBZ’s sign-off. “Concertgoers will soon start to notice that fewer and fewer tours will come our way. After all, why should agents book tours to an area where there is apparently no rock market and no avenue to help in promoting? Not everyone uses the internet to find out what concerts are coming to their area; radio has a hand in that one, as well as bringing the sounds of new music to our ears we otherwise would not have known about. A lot of smaller alternative artists may not have had a fan base in South Florida if not for the Buzz giving them the necessary spins for listeners to discover them and venture out to experience them live.”

This may also attribute to why the stations fans remain loyally dedicated to this day, almost 12 years since its last transmission. The Facebook group, REMEMBER Buzz 103.1, currently has nearly 900 active members, with past personalities of the station often active on the group as well.

(Pictured above: Logo for the station from its inception to it’s final sign off)

“What a unique time.  Maybe the last time in American history will a format of music be so powerful in uniting an entire generation of listeners. The music was like a drug that we all couldn't get enough of.  We lived it, thrived off of it and needed it to be complete human beings learning how to grow up in such a strange time.” Rider continued, when asked of the experience working with the station.

“It was a thrill for me. I love the fact that I got introduced to, and introduced so many others to, bands that were unheard of at the time and ended up being some of our lifelong favorites. I waved the 311 flag proudly since The Buzz first started. Those guys are still chugging along with a loyal fan base 30 years later.” Davis stated.

There are still glimmering beacons of hope around the country for flagship alternative stations.

In the San Francisco Bay Area, Live 105 (KITS) returned to the airwaves on June 5th of this year, two years after going off air, when it was changed to Dave FM. And former Buzz DJ Ross Mahoney, as Davis states, “has been the King of Las Vegas radio for years now, and rightfully so.”

Davis continues. “These days I listen to a public radio station out of southern California, KCSN. They aren't 90's alternative rock like The Buzz was (hardly any station is these days, which makes sense). But they aren't beholden to ratings, so they can play what they want. It's very eclectic and they have lots of great specialty shows. You're not going to hear hard rock like Tool or Rage or anything. But you might hear some obscure Talking Heads, into Marley, into Garbage, into Jack White, into brand new Depeche Mode, into some new band you've probably never heard of, etc. You never really know what you're going to hear.”

Stone adds “I wish people demanded more from radio instead of letting corporations and hedge funds call the shots.  It’s a public trust and citizens could put pressure on the government to demand more live local content.”

Nation elaborates further. “Terrestrial radio is still the dominant platform. The reason people seek out other platforms is because of commercials and the fact that terrestrial radio lacks personality and won’t take real risks with new music and artists.”

“Radio as an industry destroyed itself when it decided that it was more important to focus on websites and apps than it did the connection between itself as a product and the consumer.” says Rider. “The clock is ticking like it has been for a long time now.  Radio as we knew it doesn't even exist anymore except for a few big major markets that still employ real people that actually live in that town.  Even though I am the station voice for over 30 radio stations around the country, I would be shocked if real personality radio is ever really a thing again."

The legacy that WPBZ instituted into the hot concrete of Florida remains a timeless and irrefutable staple. And it’s a token that the former personalities are thankful for.

(Pictured Above: Buzz Bake Sale 2006 Staff Photo, courtesy of Jason Davis)

“I’m incredibly grateful to have been a part of that station and its staff and to have experienced the leadership of John O. I'm also insanely thankful for the support and loyalty of the Buzz listeners. If my career would have ended with the station like it did for some, I would have considered my career incredibly successful. I deeply miss each and every one of you”, says Nation.

Davis adds, “I had so much fun hosting Buzz Light for all those years. Sure, it sucked to get up early most every Sunday (sometimes still "buzzed" from Saturday night) and drive in. But it was a true open format.  I could play what I want, play any request I wanted. Add any new music I wanted.  It was a blast.”

While it may be a more personal opinion, and perhaps even biased, it is an undeniable fact: South Florida has some of the most passionately driven music fans, and fanbases, of anywhere in the country.

It may not be the small-town hotspot that Washington is, or the underground chic that New York has always carried, but Florida is one of the most powerful markets.

Take out the tourism, strange animals, Florida Man and mounting news headlines against the state and look at its demographic.

Here are the young and in-between generation: a group which stands on a sinking piece of land that may very well be the next Venice, Italy. But we stand on its soggy, mosquito infested and sandy shores, supporting all our friends' bands.

We go to shows, even if our backs hurt and we have work the next morning. We mosh, sing our hearts out under a humid veranda of stars and then drive through the traffic the next day.

We wear band tees in the summer despite the fact that Gildan shirt brand clearly wants to kill us, because who else will rep these bands? Where else can we broadcast our love for new music, acts and show our passion for those acts which shaped our youth, along with the Buzz?

Local and national acts, once they come to the state and most especially West Palm Beach, seem to make a valiant effort to try and come on back once they do. Because they see a crazy, tired and passionately diverse group of people, who just want to sing the words we had etched in our hearts, right back to the people who gave us the words to begin with.

As Dio once said “The world is full of kings and queens, they’ll blind your eyes and steal your dreams, it’s heaven and hell”. And strangely, it encapsulates Florida pretty well.

Whether the FM radio will ever blast alternative once more, we carry that little piece with us.

The FM radio, playing softly in the background, narrating some of our favorite moments. In the car, in our room, and kitchens.

And where there’s a kid, getting excited to hear their favorite song on the radio, is hope for the next wave of possibility.

“The love and honest to God passion for this station is undeniably one of the most timeless things I have ever been a small part of and I am wicked proud to have been a part of such an amazing time in radio in West Palm Beach.” Rider stated. “There will NEVER be a tighter group of people who respected and understood each other more.”

-Jenelle DeGuzman

Additional Links:

The archive Buzz YouTube Page can be viewed here: https://www.youtube.com/@buzz103/videos

New Times full article, “RIP The Buzz 103.1 -- Goodbye South Florida Rock Shows?” written by the New Times Staff can be read in it’s entirety here: https://www.browardpalmbeach.com/music/rip-the-buzz-1031-goodbye-south-florida-rock-shows-6426023

The Wikipedia page for KITS, which has a partial and condensed history of the station can be viewed here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/KITS

The REMEMBER Buzz 103.1 Facebook Group Page can be found here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/242324635833984/

[hiraethenthusiast]

"I love you most."| t.h.

pairing: actor!tom x reader

warnings: floof attack.

synopsis: tom gives you the best wedding you could've gotten. he's in love with you madly, that's what he says.

a/n: guess who wants this? i do. i absolutely adore a loving husband no matter what, and i adore heartfelt gifts even more! i hope you all like this fic, this one's really close to me! tpwk everyone!

listen to clinton kane's i guess i'm in love

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

“So do you, Y/N Y/L/N take Tom as your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asks you while you and Tom look at him with impatience in your eyes.

“I do.” You say, making everyone cheer and making Tom smile.

“And do you Tom Ho-” “I do!” He shouts before the priest could even complete his sentence, making everyone at the altar erupt into laughs.

“Let him finish bubba” You laugh along, signalling the priest to go on when Tom mutters a small ‘sorry’ to him.

“Do you, Tom Holland, take Y/N Y/L/N as your lawfully wedded wife?” He asks again, while Tom looks at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“I do.” And everyone cheers once again, and you gently squeeze his hand.

“So I shall now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The priest says lastly before getting off the stage and as if on queue, Tom sweeps you under his arms and holds your waist before pressing his lips to yours. The moment was wholeheartedly content, his and your parents, both with tears in their eyes, even Paddy and Harry shed a few, because the moment was so pure to just not cry at. Tom kisses you as if he was the luckiest man on Earth, like he had achieved something which he thought he could never. He pulls back to look at you beaming with the biggest smile he’s seen on you in years, and smiles to himself once again.

This was the best day of both of your lives till now, and there was no doubt about it.

After 4 years of being together, Tom finally proposed to you, and then forgot where he kept the ring, but you couldn’t care less because the man you were in love with was now, going to be a forever favourite in your lives. And today, he was now your husband from your fiance, and you couldn’t be anymore happier.

You both settle down after roaming from one place to another greeting every guest that had attended your wedding, finally for a drink and some food. Harrison sits right behind you, completing the duties of best man with all his will, and you smile at him. The twins and Paddy come in a bit later, but your eyes are looking for someone else. Where’s Tom? Your question was answered when you hear the clinking of a glass, just to find your handsome husband there.

“May I have your attention please?” He looks directly at you and you blow him a kiss, him pretending to catch it making everyone laugh. Actors.

“Thank you all for attending and being a part of our very wonderful day, I swear you guys are our favourite people” He says while chuckling.

“Today is the day I married my wonderful and stunning lover, Y/N and in recognition of that, I decided to give you the best gift of this evening.” He says, making you wonder what he got for you.

“I remember when Y/N once told me that she always loves heartfelt and handmade gifts filled with love more than people buying her the gift of her choice. She likes the element of surprise, as she likes to say. So Y/N my darling, I thought you might notice and scold me for it but you didn’t, not even once in this 4 year old relationship, and trust me this is going to shock you. I’ve managed to record every important and goofy moment of our lives, from falling on a staircase to the time I proposed to you, I have it all. I’ve compiled them into one sweet video for you, while your favourite singer of them all, Mr. Clinton Kane sings a song for us! Please give him a huge round of applause!” You jerk your head to the place where Clinton enters from, and he waves at you making you wave instinctively as well.

You look back again towards Tom, who was smiling sweetly at your little fangirl moment and continues.

“I’d also like to thank Harrison and Harry for helping me edit this video, because I’m literally so dumb without anyone of these four with me.”

“Can you put the lights out and start the video please?” He asks one of the workers there at the venue, and jogs up to sit down beside you, giving you a small peck while you take a hold of his hand.

And on queue, the lights are dimmed and the video starts to play. You can hear the faint strumming of the guitar that Clinton is currently playing, but you aren’t able to identify the song just yet. You look ahead towards the screen, and your eyes light up when you see Tom dressed up in his wedding tuxedo, you finally realising that this bit was filmed just a few hours ago.

“Hello my lovely wife! Well, I’m filming this part before the ceremony starts but I think I’m pretty certain on showing you this video after we’re married. This was...boring. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the video my love, and don’t hit me when we get home! I love you so so so much, enjoy!” He says before shutting off his camera, while everyone laughs at his goofiness and you glare at him playfully. The video rolls again and you look forward, but suddenly realise the song. It’s ‘I Guess I’m In Love’, you say to yourself. Tom had proposed to you after a few days when the song came out, and somehow on the night of him proposing, this song was played. You labelled it ‘our song’ and he happily obliged. 

“Haz hold the camera correctly for god's sake...” You hear your husband’s voice and move your head towards the screen, smiling brightly.

“Oh I’m obsessed. With the way your head is laying on my chest.” Clinton starts, immediately soothed by the presence of your lover and the melody in your ears.

“I am holding the camera nicely mate bugger off! Nikki taught me well!” Harrison says in the background making everyone giggle.

“She’s coming shut up” 

“What’s this Tom?” You ask him, as he looks at you like a kid in love.

“Y/N”

“Tom” You say in the same manner, feeling anxious by the second.

“So we’ve been dating for 4 years and trust me those have been the most beautiful four years of my life. I know this is so out of the blue, but Y/N Y/L/N, will you do the favour of marrying the person who loves you immensely? A.k.a. Tom?" He says and you laugh. You hold on for a few seconds, looking in his eyes which were filled with desperation.

"Yes" You say and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. He can't stop beaming and searches for the ring in his pocket, only to find out that he didn't have it.

"Oh I'm a mess. When I overthink the little things in my head."

"I have the ring I promise." He says, moving frantically.

"Tom-"

"I swear I kept the ring in my pocket-"

"Tom-"

"How can I be this stupid you probably don't want to marry me anymore-"

"TOM!" He jerks his head towards you as you shout his name.

"It's okay. I just want you right now." You say and he immediately hugs you, the tightest of them all.

The clip ends and you knew the tears were coming very soon, Tom senses the action and rubs your knuckles., giving you a hearty smile.

The second clip rolls in soon, your eyes brightening almost instantly.

"You seem to always help me catch my breath. But then I lose it again, when I look at you, that's the end."

"Why the hell are we on the top of the Eiffel Tower? And why do you want your phone to crash?" You ask him, while he struggles to make a video with his phone while the winds roar at the top of the monument.

"Because I want to remember this moment!" He shouts, making you smile even more.

"My goof"

"Your goof"

"You're lucky I love you"

"I wouldn't have it any other way darling" He says and gives you a quick peck on the lips, this moment too pure to realise.

"Why do I get so nervous when I look into your eyes? And butterflies can't stop me falling for you."

"Now we may invite, a very handsome young lad, who happens to be Spiderman, Mr. Tom Holland!" Harry shouts in the video, while you all pretended to have a grand gala when you couldn't attend Tom's premiere.

He walks in wearing a black tuxedo, his shirt buttons open from the top, looking dashing.

"Thank you for inviting Harold, but please, call the star of today's night." Tom says, making everyone groan about how in love he was with you.

"Patience Thomas. Now may I present, the queen of today's night, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!" Everyone applauds as you walk down the stairs as you hear your name. You reach the door wearing a red and black dress, the clothing complementing your body more than ever. Everyone seems to keep clapping but your attention is towards that one dummy, who's standing like he's seen a ghost.

"..Oh wow." He's speechless, and everyone knows it. You blush at your boyfriend's gesture and nudge him in the shoulder, as a signal to stop staring.

"I hope you all understand that I scored a jackpot, thank you" He sees and everybody laughs.

You laugh along with the other guests, remembering the faint memory from over two years back. This was one of the most fun nights you've had with Tom. While you laugh at the clip, all Tom can do is stare at you in awe. How did he get so lucky, he thinks. He watches how your face glows when you see someone happy on the screen. He truly was blessed.

"And darling this is more than anything I've felt before. You're everything that I want, but I didn't think I'd find. Someone who was worth the wait of all the years of my heartbreak. But I know now I've found the one I love."

"Please don't go" You sniffle on Tom's shoulder, asking him to stay one last time before his flight leaves for Atlanta.

"If it was in my hands darling I'd never leave your side." He says, trying to hold back tears.

"It's okay, I understand." You say, pulling back and clearing your throat.

"Awh Y/N please don't cry." Tom tries to persuade his emotions by telling you to stop, but a tear falls down his cheeks in an instant.

"I'm sorry." You say, chuckling lightly, making Tom chuckle too.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I know you will be"

"Please board the flight for Atlanta which leaves at 1330 hours" The flight attendant announces, and you know it's time to let him go.

"Come back home to me soon okay?" You say, wiping your tears.

"As soon as possible"

"I love you" He says.

"I love you more."

"I love you most." You can't argue with that now.

"Bye bubba" You say, giving him one last kiss, a very long one indeed, that left you both searching for oxygen.

"Bye darling" And he leaves to board his flight. You look in the same direction until he disappears and you turn around.

"Harrison, are you crying?"

"No-" He sniffles and you laugh.

You knew you were going to cry as soon as you saw the location. This was one of the hardest moments of your life, letting your lover go away from you for so long, and you weren't ready for that. You wiped your tears while Tom rubbed your hand with one of his, the other cleaning his tear stained face. You look back to see Harrison crying once again, and you laugh a bit at him before giving him your hand for comfort. He really was the best man. You blow a kiss to your family and Tom's, who were currently high on emotions. Even the brothers had tears in their eyes. You really did get the best family.

"And I love the way. You can never find the right things to say. And you can't sit still an hour in the day. I'm so in love, let's run away because us is enough."

The rest of the video were some clips of you and Tom being goofy and so in love, which were a delight to watch. The song played in the background, adding its own special touch, which was necessary to bind this moment together. All these moments which Tom managed to shoot secretly were a lifelong reminder of how much your person loved you. He loved you.

And that is all you need.

The video gets over and Tom looks at you with puppy eyes.

"So, how was it?"

"You're the reason my makeup is ruined and I have mascara stains" You say, laughing while crying.

"That good, huh?"

"That good." You say and he pulls you in for a hug and kisses your forehead.

"I love you bubba"

"I love you more" He says, kissing your cheek.

"I love you most." 

He couldn't argue with that.

"But I know now I've found the one I love."

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

tagging some friends who'd like to read!

@evanssimpybaby @hollandsmushroom @tomsoxytocin @scarletspideyy @leafy-holland @t-lostinworlds

[queenoftheworldisdead]

I have a request with dark prompts and tropes/ kinks from the list.

The Dialogues:

“Please, I have to get home.”

“Don’t move a muscle.”

Tropes:

Stalking/obsession

Kidnapping

(With the character Andy Barber)

Thank you in advance.

Hard day's night

Warning: 18 + Only, dark theme, kidnapping, choking, bondage, non-consent, dubious consent, forced fingering, cream-pie

Note: hope you enjoy

Dark Andy x Reader

The parking garage was partially empty compared to when you first arrived to work. Your heels echoed off the cement garage walls as you searched for where you parked. Some days you were lucky to park on L3 the prized spot closest to the ground, but today you were late and in your hurry you couldn't remember if you were on L5 or L8.

With the car fob in hand you press the unlock button. The familiar beep signaled that you were further away than you anticipated.

*Honk

The loud car horn from behind had you jumping out of your skin and screeching at the top of your lungs. With your heart hammering in your chest you turned only to be immediately blinded by the car behind you.

Blocking the light with your hand, you realized you were wondering in the middle of the driving path. "Sorry" you shouted back, moving over to allow them to pass you.

The black sedan creeped up and idled beside you. You clutched your purse and moved over closer to the side as the window rolled down. You didn't have mace, but you were sure your purse was heavy enough to wheeled as a weapon.

"Sorry I scared you" Andy leaned over, smiling as he looked up at you. It was slightly jarring seeing him like that. He had been extremely combative towards your boss during the deposition, each session ending in a screaming match.

Mr. Thomas, the defense attorney you paralegal for, had always been mild tempered. The objections during Mr. Thomas's cross drew an ire that you had never witnessed before. It was as if he sought to provoke him on purpose. Tempers were so high that Judge Peters threatened both sides with contempt, forcing several recesses to cool them off.

A process that normally lasted a few hours somehow turned into three grueling days of high tensions and long nights going over transcripts.

"Sorry I was in the way. I forgot where I parked." You jiggled your keys, almost embarrassed.

"Get in I'll help you find it. It's really late and you shouldn't be walking alone in the garage like this."

The offer was nice, but getting into the car of opposing console would surely be frowned apron at your firm.

You were about to protest when he unlocked the passenger door. With a sigh of defeat you got inside. Thankfully Mr. Thomas parked in reserved parking on the lower levels. Far from the general parking on the upper floors that you used.

"I assume your late because of me" he laughed lightly as he slowly drove on.

"Yeah its safe to say you are correct" you dryly chuckled as you hid low in the seat. The garage was slightly empty, but you didn't want to take the chance of being seen as doing something inappropriate. Idiot why did you get in the car?

Aside from him being apposing console Mr.Barber made you feel uneasy. During the hours long deposition you would feel a weird tingle, that made you look up from your notepad only to look up and lock eyes with the DA. You shrugged it off as an intimidation tactic used to get under the skin of the opposition.

---

Clicking your fob again you listened for your car, but somehow you were now further than you were originally. "Oh gosh can we turn back? I think I' m further up."

Andy nodded as he continued down the path. The signs above indicating 'More parking turn left' and 'Exit turn right'.

"Why are you still here?" You questioned him as you searched. The deposition ran long, but it ended hours ago.

"Oh.." He said caught off guard as he made a right turn toward the exit. "I spotted an old colleague John Wilson. We chatted for a bit, didn't and realize how late it was until the old ball and chain called."

Your office had a few former district attorneys. Most left the DA's office for the more lucrative life of defense.

"Um Mr.Barber.. you needed to make the left to go back into the garage." You pointed back when Andy made the right turn toward the garage exit.

"You know I'm impressed by your professionalism." Andy ignored and continued down the wrong path. "Thomas is lucky to have you on his team" he explained as he rolled to a stop behind a car inline to exit.

"Um thank you." You shifted in your seat at the impromptued complement. You hadn't done anything special or out of the ordinary. You just took notes like any other paralegal would.

Was he head hunting you? You heard about big firms doing stuff like that, but not for paralegals that were a dime a dozen.

Andy made no effort to change course and you felt increasingly uncomfortable as he inched closer to the exit.

"Um...you know I will just get security to escort me to my car from here." You pointed at the man in the glass box guarding the exit. "Thank you" you reached over to touch the door handle and heard an immediate click of the lock snapping shut.

"Don't move a muscle." You froze at his command.

"I wouldn't get out if I were you." He warned glancing at the rear-view. "Your boss might frown at you getting out of the apposing consoles car."

Stiffly you turned to peak over your seat, a cold chill fell over your body at the sight of Mr. Thomas car waiting in line behind Andy's in the queue. If you got out now you would be in deep shit. You slunk down low in the seat, in a veiled effort to hide. You shouldn't have gotten in this car. What the hell were you thinking?

"Come work for me" Andy casually grabbed his ticket to feed to the machine as he rolled to a stop. So this was just a job offer? If that was the case you were sure there were better ways to go about it. You had a nice chemistry with the old defense attorney and you were not interested in the stress of the DA's office or the pay cut you were sure to get.

"Um I'm not looking for a new job." You rejected him nervously. Hoping he would turn around and let you out.

"At least here my offer."

It seemed as you had no choice in the matter as he proceeded to pull out onto the road.

Your lips pressed into a frown. If you placate him, maybe he would let you go. He was a DA after all he wasn't going to hurt you tried to convince yourself.

"Fine, what is it?"

---

"Come work for me and I don't charge you with witness tempering"

Your eyes went wild at the allegation. "What!"

A lot of firms were dirty, but yours was not one of them. The cases you handled with Mr. Thomas didn't even rise to that level. At most he handled cases of over zealous brokers, financial fraud cases or embezzlement. The only time you ever came in contact with a witness Mr.Thomas was there with you. And even if it did you would never take penitentiary chances to get a leg up on the competition.

"Don't worry it's not true. I know your a good girl" he glanced over at you with a smirk. The praise graded you as you sat still stunned. "But that won't stop me from charging you. I'm willing to bet that until you get yourself untangled from the mess I am going to make of your life, your boss and his associates wouldn't think twice about letting you go."

You stared at him in disbelief. You barely said two words to this man, yet he was ready to blow up your life. And for what? For you to work for him? "And from what I know of paralegal salaries I would bet you could afford a public defender at best."

"Mr. Thomas would defend me" you scoffed.

"I wouldn't count on it. Because I would take him down too if he tried." He was serious.

You fell back on the seat as your head swam with the madness. You tried to think what you could've done to bring this on.

--

You had been to the DA's office a handful of times so when you saw the familiar building in the horizon you shrunk further in the leather seat.

Andy pulled into a reserved parking spot as the clock crept closer to midnight.

You didn't belong here. Maybe if you got out you could run for it. Make a mad dash somewhere and call the cops. But what would you say? The DA threatened you with a job, kidnapped you and took you to his office? They would think you were insane.

"Let's start your interview." He announced as he killed the engine. You pursed your lips and frowned deeply.

You were being made to interview for a job you didn't want nor ask for.

“Please, I have to get home.”

Andy paid you no mind, slamming the door in the face of your plea. Your eyes followed him as he headed toward the stone steps to the building.

What did he expect for you to do? Show up tomorrow at your office and sit on prosecutions side? You doubted the judge nor your boss would allow that to fly.

You watched him as you stayed paralyzed in the car. This had to be a joke or a dream. Had you slipped in the parking garage earlier and bumped your head. You tried pinching yourself to snap out of it only to be disheartened by the gravity of this situation.

---

Andy led you down the empty hallways, until he stopped at a door that bared his name.

You stood back while he unlocked it and motioned you to go inside. You couldn't move, dread cemented you in place. It was a miracle he had got you to come this far.

Andy tsked and shook his head in disappointment as he walked inside.

You tried to play back every encounter, every word you could've uttered that could've spearheaded this, but there was nothing.

You would've been surprised if he even knew your name, you couldn't even recall it being mentioned during the depositions.

While you drowned in despair Andy shimmed out of his blazer, tossing it on a chair off to the side.

"You're wasting your potential with Thomas" Andy declared, perching himself on the edge of his desk.

"I can tell your very focused and career driven." He continued on. It was surreal, watching him unbutton and roll up his sleeves. Like a disappointed father ready to reprimand their child.

"I noticed it from the start." The anticipation of what was to come became too much under the weight of his stare. You hugged yourself defensively while warm Tears streamed down your cheek.

It was as if he were a wolf ready to swallow you whole. You squeezed your eyes shut unable to hold his stare.

"Eyes on me" he said firmly. You sniffed uncontrollably as you forced them back open. "Good girl" Andy praised, adjusting his cock. He delighted in this, wetting his bottom lip, reveling in your discomfort.

"With a little more discipline and guidance you will reach your full potential. And I want to help you do that" Andy grunted as he loosened then knot of his tie.

Andy stayed sat before you unmoved by your tears as he slipped the fabric from around his neck, pulling it taunt with one hand while wrapping it around the other.

"You just need a firm hand to mold you. Or you can stay out there and watch as I turn your world upside down."

What could you say? He had you where he wanted you. You held your head low, sobbing to yourself as you approached him. You were no match for the power of the DA's office.

Andy rose from his perch and circled you like a shark with blood in the water. "Hands behind your back." He whispered into the shell of your ear. You looked back at him eyes wet with tears pleading. He sighed disappointed again taking matters into his own hands. You whimpered as he pried your hands from their hold, forcing them behind your back.

"Please Mr. Barber " you chanted as he encompassed your wrist with the tie. Knotting it so tight you feared for the circulation of your hands.

---

Andy's firm body pressed against you, his arms wrapped around you, roaming your body freely. The fabric of the tie burned as you struggled to free yourself. He ripped open your cheap blouse with ease, groping your breast over your bra. You withered in his embrace, unable to fight back.

"You made it hard to concentrate" he hummed into your neck while he played with your hard nipples over the fabric. The heat of his breath and the kneading of your breast electrified the coil that tightened in your core.

You tried to crouch into your shoulders, but Andy cupped your chin harshly. Forcing you to expose your neck to him and endure his assault. You went rigid when his other hand started to trail down your abdomen, tunneling past your waistline in desperate pursuit of your mound.

"Sitting so quiet, taking notes."

Your tears glazed Andy's hand as he forced you to look at him as he plunged beneath the elastic of your panties. His eyes clouded with lust at the sight of your facial contortions. Your clit buzzed as his fingers moved over it. You clamped your thighs tightly around his palm in an effort to stop further intrusion, but he pressed on. Rubbing firmly against your mound repeatedly, sparking an unwanted warmth. You felt shame and guilt as heat pooled in his hand.

"Hmmm so ready to be my perfect little helper." Andy purred.

"Are you ready to be molded by me" he teased. Andy pushed his fingers inside of you, releasing a gasp you could not contain.

"Fuck you're so tight" Andy cursed in your ear while he fingered you.

You bit down on your lip to stop the moan trapped in your throat. The embarrassing wetness, the involuntary moans, it was as if your body no longer belonged to you. Andy manipulated you like a puppet on a string.

You exhaled deeply when he pulled his fingers from you and released your neck. You panted from the over stimulation.

He built up a need and left you cradling on the edge. Without warning Andy spun you by the shoulder to face him.

"Look at you my needy little helper. Ready to learn." He smirked at you.

Your eyes went wide when he began unfastening his belt. You didn't want to find out what he would use that for. Your flight response started to kick into high gear as he closed the space between you.

Reflexively you took a step backwards, almost stumbling to the floor when you tripped on the leg of the chair behind you.

There was no way out of the room without going past him. You doubted you would get far even if you tried. The back of your legs hit his desk, halting your movements.

"Gonna be my perfect little helper?"

You opened your mouth to finally scream, but Andy swiftly rushed you. The grip on your neck felt deadly as you croaked. He leaned his weight on you, tipping you over until you slammed hard on his desk.

Whatever trinkets he had on his desk dug into your back and arms painfully. Andy wedged himself between your thighs, and haphazardly fumbled with his pants. Pushing them down with one hand as he kept you pinned with the other. You bucked and squirmed when you felt his need pressed on your pelvis.

Your skirt had rode up past your waist leaving your thin panties the last line of defense.

"Don't do this please Mr. Barber please I'll work for you please." Choked out incoherently.

You bucked more feverishly when he yanked your panties to the side. The tip of his cock lined up against your entrance.

"That's it. That's my good little helper. So wet for me." Andy praised as his sunk into you as he kept a firm hold on your neck. Your pussy pulsed around him as you strained to adjust. He made you painfully full.

Andy lifted up your left thigh, allowing himself to sink deeper. The added weight of him on top of you married with the pain from your arms.

His focused grip on your neck helped muffle your mewls, but not the sloppy sounds of your cunt. You turned away from his face as he rolled his hips into you. Only to be met with the smiling faces of his family. The facade of his wholesome life seemingly entrained by your predicament.

"Perfect little cunt fits me so well."

Your pussy clenched with every praise to your shame. There was no way to bite back the need he fed deep within you. Your stomach tensed as a staggered moan fell from your mouth.

Your feet curled in the air as your thighs squeezed around him. You felt of mix of shame and disappointment as you came around his cock.

Loosening his grip on your neck Andy could no longer hold himself back. He filled you to the brim, his seed seeped out of you as you milked him dry.

He laid on you briefly, panting heavily before pulling off. Carefully adjusting himself as he watched his cum drizzle down your raw cunt. "Get yourself cleaned up. We have cross in a few hours."

[ddarker-dreams]

Contractual Obligations II. Yan Childe x Reader

Warnings: Unwanted physical contact, general yandere themes. Word count: 2.2k. →Part I. 

The sound of heavy, wooden doors shutting behind you feels like a premonition of what is to come. 

Fiddling with your skirt, your eyes dart around, taking in Liyue’s signature rich architecture. Fatui building or not, they still must abide by Liyue’s aesthetic. You thought being surrounded by your home’s design would bring solace. Warm shades of mahogany with gold motifs are illuminated by paper lanterns, giving a glow that would be otherwise pleasant, if not for the circumstances. 

You had anticipated a long wait. Ekaterina, upon hearing your name, informed that you would be seen without delay. The others in the lobby of Northland Bank grumbled at this, much to your embarrassment. It’s no secret that getting appointments here is a time-consuming endeavor. Sailors, business owners, and Qixing’s personal assistants alike had to wait. 

For whatever reason, you were allowed to skip ahead of the queue. The glaring special treatment is bound to spread rumors. Now, here you stand, unable to quell your nerves. This is no different than strolling into a ravenous lion’s den. The vulnerability you feel now makes you wish you were facing a carnivorous beast, at least then you might have hope to defend yourself. 

Even with the unexpected privilege of not waiting in the lobby, you’ve been standing here in this private room for a while now. Thirty minutes is your guess, impatience creeping up on you. Your shoulders slump, a sigh leaving your lips. There’s lots of work to be done when you’re done here, time a precious resource. Wasting it to get answers from the blight on your life is infuriating. 

Figures, the one time you need to speak with Childe, he’s nowhere to be seen. Every other time he’d show up at the least opportune moments. He has a habit of appearing uninvited and ruining what would’ve been a pleasant day. Lost in thought, you consider all that must be done when you return to your parent’s shop, too occupied with your thoughts to notice a looming figure. Two hands go out to cover your eyes, the world suddenly going dark. Heart pounding against your chest, the touch is too unexpected, heat rising in your body as protection.

“Guess who?” Childe hums into your ear with a singsong tone. His scent reminds you of the ocean, fresh and light. 

You frown, noticing how close he is to you, his chest pressed against your back. Does Childe not know what personal space is? “The source of my problems.” 

He lets out a scandalized gasp and slinks in front of you. Childe boasts a lighthearted demeanor, mirth dancing in his eyes, and a tight-lipped smile on his face. Inauthentic as ever, you note. You’ve seen what lays dormant behind the thin veil of boyish charm. The infinite darkness that you never wish to see again. He’s still closer to your person than you’d prefer, but pointing it out won’t do any good, so you decide to overlook it. Picking your battles wisely is vital when speaking with Childe.

“Is that the greeting I get, after rushing all the way here?” Childe sighs. Before you could respond, you notice a new scent in the air, unmistakably leather. It takes you a moment to identify the source. A thin, wispy trail of smoke rises from Childe’s leather gloves that had been touching you just prior. Does that not hurt? Childe catches you staring and laughs. 

“So you didn’t notice,” Childe sounds amused, lifting his hands to inspect them. Raising his hands to his mouth, he bites the tip of his gloves and pulls them off. “Looks like I caught you.” 

He nods to your necklace which is tucked beneath your blouse, scarlet light shining through the fabric. Instinctually, you cover it with your hand, the jewel warm to the touch. Childe’s abrupt physical touch had activated your Vision. It’s only when you take a few deep breaths that the telling glow fades away, but the damage is already done. Did he plan this on purpose? Whatever the case may be, Childe is the last person you want having this information.

Sensing your apprehension, he speaks up. “Relax, I already assumed as much, but my interest is undeniably piqued. Why hide your Vision? This isn’t Inazuma, I was under the impression Visions were revered in Liyue.” 

You don’t owe Childe an explanation, but your intuition tells you he’s not going to let this go anytime soon. This isn’t what you came here for, you remind yourself. Don’t let him distract you.

“It’s a long story,” comes your dismissive answer, glancing around to see if anyone else had seen, even though it’s only you two in here. “Can I talk about what I came here for, please?” 

Childe closes his eyes, humming while considering your proposition. Instead of walking behind the desk in the room, he sits on a bench against the wall, motioning for you to come over. At your blatant hesitation, he decides to pester you, which doesn’t come as a shock. 

“What’s up with that look? There’s plenty of room,” Childe pats the spot next to him for extra emphasis. A dangerous twinkle shines in his eyes with a mischievous smile to match it. “Though, I wouldn’t complain should you come to sit on my lap instead.” 

Your cheeks flush brightly, a weak glare being sent his way which he laughs at. “I would never…” 

“Sure, sure. Come over already, it’s the least you could do, considering you just scorched a pair of my favorite gloves.” Childe’s carefree tone doesn’t match his scolding words, stretching out his arm on the back of where you were supposed to sit. Gingerly stepping over the smoking gloves on the floor, you wonder if it’s somehow a fire hazard, but assume Childe’s Hydro Vision could put it out if need be. You stop just short of sitting down, gnawing on your bottom lip at this new internal dilemma. Glaring daggers at his outstretched arm doesn’t seem to faze him. 

“The offer still stands.” He teases, leading you to huff and take your seat by him. You try to ignore the close physical proximity, but it’s rather difficult, as your thighs are touching. Is this a common theme for Snezhnayans? Why is Childe so needlessly touchy? Maybe you don’t want to know. Childe drums his fingers, staring at you with dangerous intent. 

You’ve wasted enough time here. Hoping to move on to the pressing issue, your lips part without further delay. “So, as I was--”

Childe places a finger to your lips, in an act that leaves you speechless. What is his problem? Furrowing your eyebrows together, you have half a mind to scorch the finger in front of you, but dismiss the thought when remembering his strength. Damn him for getting you riled up with such ease. 

“Uh uh uh,” Childe chastises with a shake of his head. “Not yet. Business can come later. First, you’re going to tell me about that.” 

You don’t need to look down to see he’s pointing at your hidden necklace. “It’s... personal. I have no reason to tell you.” 

“Oh, sweet [First]. I wasn’t asking. You did just burn my gloves, didn’t you? Instead of charging you Mora, which -- no offense -- you don’t have enough of to replace it, I want an explanation. I think that’s a fair deal.” 

So he is going to hold that mishap over you. Messing around with a debt collector and money seems counterintuitive, giving a quick explanation the plausible option. Whatever it takes to get him to drop the sensitive topic. Childe must have a semblance of tact to have made it this far in life after all. 

“Fine, fine. It’s not really that remarkable a reason. I have a younger sister, Chunghua. We used to be inseparable as kids. More than anything, I just wanted her to be happy. You’d do anything to accomplish that, y’know? It was… all my fault, really. She wanted a Vision like mine more than anything -- hair accessories, Mora, pretty outfits -- she never cared for that. 

I had no idea why I was given a Vision and not her. She was the one who prayed to every Archon at night for it, the one who burnt incense and gave offerings, not me. I could see her gradually losing hope every day that she woke up without one, like a piece of her was breaking off. At meals, she’d just… stare, silently, at the Vision around my neck. I don’t blame her for starting to hate me. I didn’t notice until it was too late.”

Taking a deep breath, your eyes fall to your lap. “I only wanted to cheer her up. To see her smile like she used to. When I first got my Vision, Chunghua would ask me to do these little tricks. Forming animals or whatever, stuff kids like. Anyways… I tried doing it again one morning. Needless to say, it didn’t go well, she practically screeched at me. I had no idea that was how she felt. But, yeah. That’s why I hide my Vision. See, not that interesting, right?” 

Childe’s expression feels impossible to read. You’re not sure why you even shared so much, especially with him, but his lack of interruption made you keep going. Maybe you weren’t expecting him to sit perfectly still and listen to every word. Whatever the case, you clear your throat, desperate to clear the gloomy atmosphere. 

“She would’ve reacted the same eventually,” Childe says after a moment of deliberation. You tilt your head, the serious answer was unexpected. “That’s what I think, though only older siblings could understand.”

There’s a brief tenderness in his words that leaves you speechless. If he’s acting, you have to commend his abilities, because right now it almost feels like he’s being genuine. Playing with a strand of your hair, you look past him and clear your throat.

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right.” 

Childe’s somber appearance twists into a more impish visage. “Why don’t I give Chunghua a talking to? It’s a shame seeing your cute face so sullen.” 

Mortified, you shake your head. “There’s no need for that.” 

“Hmm… a shame. I could really take care of everything if you just let me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” you shrug with a frown. “What you could help me with is this ridiculous situation at the shop! Why are there Fatui guards outside the front doors? It’s scaring away customers.” 

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” 

Unbelievable. Childe continues to test your patience at every turn. After your previous conversation outside Liyue, which you’re still hoping was a bad joke, you’d noticed an increased presence of Fatui around the shopping district. That was bad enough for business. Now that they’re stationed right outside your parent’s shop, it’s far worse. Rumors have begun to circulate that you’re somehow involved with the Fatui. This has Childe’s doing written all over it.

“Why else would I be here?” 

He smiles and you immediately regret the rhetorical question. “Because you missed me, of course.” 

“I missed when there weren’t Fatui around the shop. Please, I don’t know what you did, but it’s going to be harder to get money for...” you gulp as if saying it cements the reality of your situation, but power through. “Paying off the loan with this drop in revenue.”

“Tempting as that is, I’m already happy with the results. I got you to come to me and learned more about you. From my position, this is a sizeable gain.” 

Everything from your head to your toes feels hot as if molten lava is stirring inside. He’s not taking you seriously, like the time at the stream and all the times before that. Memories flash in your mind. Your father hunched over letters containing bills, frowning, hair going greyer by the day. Your mother, sneaking out when she thinks you and your sister are asleep to pawn off her old jewelry. Even Chunghua, who offered to take time away from her education to help at the shop. It hits you like a pile of bricks, heart twisting painfully and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“What do I have to do,” Your voice is so low that Childe has to careen his head to hear it. He blinks, incredulous, waiting for further clarification. Each breath you take feels like a losing battle, your composure threatening to shatter. “For you to stop… whatever this is. I’ll do anything. Give anything. Please, just leave my family out of it.” 

Childe crosses his legs and leans in closer to you, arm secured tight around your shoulder.

“Didn’t I tell you already?” 

His breath is warm against you, lips ghosting over the skin of your neck. He presses his lips softly against your pulse. Smiling, he notices how it quickens underneath his touch, all too pleased with your physical reactions. 

“That what I want to take is you.” 

[booksarelife-stuff]

our secret moments in a crowded room

Jily (James Potter/Lily Evans), minor Wolfstar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black)

My entry for the September Jily Challenge! @jilychallenge

Prompt: I tripped on the red carpet and you caught me

Partner was the amazing @kates836! Thank you for being an amazing partner!

In a fake PR relationship with Severus Snape, Lily can’t help be distracted by the real person who has her heart. 

Word Count: 4,077

Read of Ao3     Masterlist

The car took a sharp left and Lily tried to stabilize herself so she didn’t touch Severus, who was sitting beside her. She made eye contact with Mary, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Mary shot her the millionth apologetic look.

Lily glanced back down at her phone, just in time to see a reply to the picture that she had sent of her in her dress.

Ahdjsfhkjdsf I can’t breathe. How dare you send this to me right before I walk out on the red carpet.

She smiled widely down at her phone.

I don’t know how I’m going to function with you that close and can’t do anything about it.

She smiled faltered for a second, because yeah, that was truly going to be torture for her too.

I’m about to go out. I can’t wait to see you.

Lily bit her lip before typing a reply.

If you think this dress looks good on me now, wait until you take it off.

The message bubbles appeared instantly and Lily’s smile turned smug.

You shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to think about it all night now. Love you

Love you too

She locked her phone and handed it to Mary, who would be holding all of her personal items for the rest of the night. Severus sighed deeply beside her and Lily tried not to roll her eyes.

If Lily had it her way, she’d be arriving with a very different date. But Lily didn’t have a choice. What the studio wanted, the studio got. Including a semi-fake relationship with her co-star, Severus Snape.

They had just finished filming the final season of their wildly popular show, The Hollow Hour. The show definitely didn’t need this kind of press to be successful, but Lily still didn’t have a choice in the matter, considering she had already booked a leading role in another one of their shows.

On-screen, Lily and Snape played Tara and Gideon, characters who had been in love since they were children and fighting in a war where they possibly wouldn’t make it out. Off-screen, Lily could hardly stand the presence of Snape.

It didn’t start out that way. When they’d first met, Lily had thought he was pretty cool. The show had been her first big break, as she had only done television guest appearances before then. Snape had a few movies under his belt, one of which was super popular. Their friendship had started out as his kind of giving her direction when it came to the whole fame thing.

Then, it got a little invasive. He would just be in her trailer, coming in without knocking. He started asking for more date-like hangouts. His disgusting political beliefs started coming out through their conversations and his apparent hatred for their co-star, Remus Lupin because he was openly gay. And he started acting as she owed him something, especially since the show took off.

The rumors had started before Lily realized that Snape was the creep that he was. People saw them pining on screen and going out for the occasional drink after a long day when Lily could still stand him and suddenly, people thought they were in love.

It had been a real nuisance in Lily’s life. Every interview, she tried to squash the rumors, whereas Snape would encourage them. It didn’t help that the show got popular, like really insane amounts of popularity. The character shipping took a sharp left turn into people shipping them.

Snily, they called them. From fanfiction to edits and art to covers of glossy magazines. It was everywhere. No matter if Lily was doing interviews from one of her movies, they would ask about Snape.

And since Lily was some sort of a masochist, she knew exactly what the fans thought of their relationship. They thought Lily denied the relationship because she was very private about her life, and Snape would never say it outright because he wanted to respect her but also wanted the world to know that she is his.

It didn’t help that Snape had accumulated a very dedicated fanbase. Like worship-the-ground-he-walked-on kind of dedication. To the point where Lily would get occasional death threats because she was “hurting him by denying their relationship.”

They never seemed to believe Lily when she said no, much like Snape and their studio. Lily couldn’t flat out deny the relationship in interviews anymore until after the final episode. It made her want to dry heave.

The car was slowing, and Lily could hear the buzz of fans and reporters. They were in the queue now for the red carpet. Mary unbuckled and twisted around in the seat, doing a final check of Lily’s hair and make-up.

Lily smoothed down her green satin dress, her legs bent awkwardly to not crease the dress and also not puncture the fabric with her stiletto pumps. Lily’s after-party dress was hanging up in the back, but Lily didn’t know if she was actually going to attend.

It had taken her a long time to feel beautiful at these types of events. Being considered plus size in this industry felt like a death sentence, especially since Lily refused to play the “funny fat friend” or anything like that. But she felt good tonight, especially with the way it hugged her curves and the bit of cleavage showed.

Severus looked like himself, just in a suit. His greasy hair was covered in dry shampoo and tucked behind his ears. He turned towards Lily and smiled like a cat who got the cream.

“We could make this real, you know?” he said, for probably the millionth time. “You and I would work.”

Lily tried not to crinkle her nose in disgust. “Severus,” she said. “You know I have no interest in that.”

There had been many times where Lily wished she could speak her mind and rip him a new one, but she could not get branded as a diva. So, she played off these uncomfortable moments with a laugh and polite words, even when she was telling him no for the millionth time.

She saw the corner of his lips turn down in a slight frown and averted her eyes to stare straight ahead.

The voices outside got louder and suddenly the car was stopping. Mary jumped out of the car quickly as Lily unbuckled. Moody, Lily’s driver, and bodyguard, also got out quickly to open Lily’s door.

She had to take Moody’s hand to step out. She wobbled when she shifted her weight to her high heels but quickly corrected herself. She was going to have blisters for weeks after tonight. Mary appeared from the other side of the car, hands already straightening Lily’s dress.

They were covered from the cameras here, so no one saw Mary make sure Lily’s breasts were firmly taped into the dress. The low cut of the dress required her boobs to be placed perfectly and one slip would probably cost Lily her career. That’s why Lily had Mary, her best friend since they were children and who now worked as her PA. The back of the dress was practically nonexistent and her long auburn waves tickled her with every movement.

Mary quickly batted away one of her dark coily curls that snuck out of its bun before giving Lily a once over.

“You look gorgeous,” she said, smiling. “He’s not going to want to take his eyes off of you.”

Lily gave her a real smile and a quick hug before stepping away to get around the car where Severus was surely waiting. She already had her red carpet smile on and tried not to pay attention to the up and down look Severus was giving her.

Severus reached out his arm to escort Lily, but Lily walked past it. They said they had to arrive together, not actually walk together. Mary let out a snort of laughter as she followed Lily out to the carpet—to walk with Lily but hidden away.

The lights were blinding as Lily walked out on the carpet. Cameras flashing every second, people yelling questions at her. Lily was now a pro at this, after so many years of practice. The screams intensified, signaling Snape was now making his appearance.

Lily moved slowly down the carpet, making sure her smile stayed in place. Towards the end of her walk, Snape did sneak up on her, wrapping an arm around her waist taking extra care to let his fingers drag against her bare skin. She fought to not recoil away from him.

She smiled and laughed though she wanted to push him away.

The entrance to Royal Albert Hall was full of reporters and cameras. Lily never really minded this part of the red carpet because most of the time it was just questions like “who are you wearing?” or the occasional fun game with whatever fledgling media company had weaseled reporters in.

Lily was heading towards the first available reporter, a young woman who was smiling widely as Lily approached. But a familiar head of dark curls caught her eye, and she couldn’t help the way her attention turned immediately that way.

It had been six weeks since her boyfriend of three years had touched her. Six weeks since she had felt the indentation of him next to her in bed, felt his warmth, had him within her fingertips.

And James looked so good, it made Lily want to pull him away and find the nearest secluded spot. The way his tailored suit hugged the angles of his body, the body that she knew like it her own.

She could feel her heart start pounding in her chest, and she hoped the cameras weren’t picking up the way her hands were shaking.

“Lily Evans!” the young reporter cheered. “How are you on this fine evening?”

“I’m doing great,” Lily said, smiling and resisting the urge to look at James.

“So, you arrived with rumored beau and co-star, Severus Snape,” the reporter cheered. “Care to confirm anything?”

Lily fake laughed. “We just carpooled. Better for the environment.”

The girl’s face tightened a bit, but the reporter knew better than to press.

Lily answered her questions with ease. Who was she wearing? Did she feel good about her role as a presenter? What was she going to do after the final season of The Hollow Hour?

Once the interview concluded, she turned to go to the next reporter.

But there was James, looking at her with a slight smile on his lips. His dark brown eyes did a quick once over of her, appraising her every curve quickly. And goddamn, he wore his glasses instead of his contacts, reminding Lily of the quiet moments in her flat where they were tangled together, his glasses pushing into her face. His normal frizzy curls were more defined thanks to whatever hair product his stylist made him use. His brown skin was as flawless as ever, glowing in the camera flashes in the fading day.

It couldn’t have been more than a moment where their eyes met, but it was enough to thoroughly distract Lily to the point of missing the small bump in the carpet. Her shoe caught and the sensation of falling happened before she felt strong arms catch her.

“Are you okay?” James asked as Lily’s world steadied in his arms, the concern in his eyes.

Lily felt her cheeks redden, both from the embarrassment of tripping on the red carpet and the fact that she was in James’s arms. She nodded but when she stepped back, her right shoe gave out.

She moved away from James’s arms, but took his hand, their fingers clasping each other, to keep her balance as she lifted her dress up to see the heel completely snapped off.

“Well, that’s great,” she said with a laugh. James laughed with her. She wobbled for a second and James’s hand grabbed her side to steady her, his fingers making her burn.

Lily couldn’t help but smile softly at him as Mary appeared, getting on her knees in front of Lily, urging her to turn slightly. She let go of James’s hand and used his shoulder to keep her balance as Mary undid the straps on Lily’s shoes. Mary, who was definitely getting a raise after this, took off her own black kitten heels and gave them to Lily.

She was now several inches shorter and her dress dragged a bit on the ground, but it was better than no shoes at all.

“I owe you my life,” Lily told Mary, who smiled in response. Lily didn’t miss the way she gave James a glance and then a teasing smile back to her. She turned back to James. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” he replied. “I’ll see you around?”

She wanted to say that she would see him tonight, preferably with no clothes, but she just smiled and nodded in response.

As she let go and James stepped away, the last thing on her mind was the cameras catching every moment.

~~~

To Lily’s detriment, her manager had called Mary to tell Lily that she had to be seen at the after-party with Snape.

Lily tried not to recoil at Severus’s hand on her lower back as he led her to the after-party. The cameras were blinding against the darkness of the night, but Lily let herself be led into the venue, Moody doing his best to push back against the raging crowd.

The venue only had a few selective members of the press inside, but it was little enough that it put all the celebrities at ease. There was no real food, just snacks because seeing your favorite movie star get sloshed would sell magazines and get them trending on Twitter.

Lily’s stomach growled. She couldn’t remember the last full meal she had.

Severus kept a firm hand on her back. She smiled and laughed at the right times as they talked with winners from the night. A live band started and Lily’s ears rang with the loud music. She kept knocking back glasses of champagne because at least the buzz would take the edge off the hungry looks in Severus’s eyes and make her not recoil when he tried to whisper in her ear.

Her saving grace came in the form of Remus Lupin somewhere south of midnight.

She came back from the loo and purposefully walked away from where she knew Severus was waiting. The alcohol was thrumming through her veins, and she felt light. Her shoes—or Mary’s shoes—had been kicked off long ago, and she was stumbling through the crowds of famous people.

Remus stood at the picked-over snack table, probably looking for any scraps of leftover chocolate. He had been Lily’s co-star since day one and her favorite to boot. Severus hated him, mostly because Lily liked him more, but also because he was openly gay and in a long-term relationship with the model, Sirius Black, who Snape also hated.

Remus had been the reason she and James met. She also knew that where Remus was, Sirius wasn’t far, and if Sirius wasn’t far, neither was James.

And she wanted to see James more than anything.

“Boo,” she said, poking Remus’s side. The man jumped, almost dropping his chocolate-covered strawberry.

“Bloody hell, Evans,” he said. Lily laughed, already feeling better. She clumsily picked up a biscuit and took a bite.

“How’s your night been going?” she asked. Remus let out an amused huff.

“Same old, same old,” he said. “You?”

Lily didn’t respond and Remus laughed, knowing exactly how her night had been going. They grabbed a few more snacks and Lily proceeded to follow him, hoping that he would lead her to the person she needed to see.

James was sitting at a table across from Sirius, and Lily’s heart immediately started beating rapidly. His suit jacket and tie were gone, just leaving him in his tight white button-up. The top buttons were undone, hinting at his chest that Lily knew better than the back of her own hand.

The sluggish haze of the alcohol in her system reminded her of when they first met. It had been at The Hollow Hour season one wrap party, and Remus had invited James and Sirius. He had caught her eye from across the room, the curly black hair and glasses were a dangerous combination for Lily, especially with the dark jeans that had hugged his very nice arse. She was so nervous that she had had to take a shot before she walked over to have Remus introduce her.

She had taken him home and when she woke up in the morning, recovering from the best sex she had ever had in her life, she found him making breakfast for her.

He stayed the whole weekend.

Then they texted non-stop and started having dates, sitting in Lily’s apartment with take-away and cheesy movies.

And here they were, three years later, hopelessly in love, and pretending that they weren’t because her stupid television show needed promoting.

It hadn’t been meant to be a secret for so long. In the beginning, they just wanted to figure each other out without all the press breathing down their necks. It’s just how it all happened.

It wasn’t like the important people in their lives didn’t know. Their parents and most trusted friends did. And they already decided that once the whole thing with Snape stopped, they were going to go public because they wanted to move in together and finally go on real dates.

Lily saw the way he perked up when he saw her. A small smile on his lips, his shoulders moving back. There was a moment when Lily could have sworn that there were no other people in the room until someone bumped into her.

She slid into the booth beside him, not caring about how dangerous that was, especially when their legs touched.

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice tugging at her in a way she missed while he was gone.

“Hey,” she replied. She could tear her eyes away from him and she didn’t know if she wanted to, either.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, not even jarring the couple. “Get out of here before you start shagging on the table.”

James raised his eyebrows in question, which Lily answered with a smile. He reached down for his pockets.

“I’m texting Moody,” he said.

Anticipation pooled in her stomach and as she grabbed another biscuit to eat because it was something to do, her hands shook. James placed his hands on Lily’s thigh and she couldn’t think of anything else until he leaned over and told her that Moody said it was all clear.

Even in her drunk state, she located her shoes and practically sprinted to the back door where Moody was waiting.

There were a few paparazzi pictures taken as Lily quickly hopped into the back of the SUV and Moody got into the driver’s seat. He handed her her small bag that had her phone in it that Mary had been carrying. She was too excited to even get her phone out as Moody did two laps around the block before pulling right back into the same spot.

The second James jumped in and the door was closed, Lily was on him. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, meeting their lips in a deep, but sloppy kiss. Lily kicked her legs up onto his lap and pulled him down as laid down the best she could in the back seat. James laughed a little against her lips, causing Lily to pull away and laugh too.

“Next year, we’re going to this together,” she said, opening her eyes to see him in whatever light that shone in from the windows. She got flashes of his eyes and his wide smile as she sat up, still keeping her legs on her.

“Absolutely,” he replied, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “And we’re going to still traumatize Moody on the way home.”

Said man let out a snort. “No, I’m getting a divider.”

Lily barely remembers the rest of the car ride and getting to her flat. All she remembers is the taste of James’s lips and the feeling of his hands on her.

~~~

The blaring noise of a phone call is what made Lily wake up. She jumped violently, kicking James in the process, who let out a pained groan as Lily disentangled herself from him to be able to reach her nightstand to turn off the god-forsaken ear-splitting sound.

Her hand smacked into the nightstand, but her phone wasn’t there. She realized it must be James’s.

She nudged him and he groaned, but she could feel him move around in the bed. Finally, it stopped and James spoke.

“Hello?” he fell silent. “What are you talking about?”

Lily, who was already falling asleep again, opened her eyes at his tone and suddenly, he was shaking her.

“I’ll call you back Sirius,” James said as Lily sat up.

He hung up the call and threw his phone down on the bed. He tugged at his hair as Lily watched him with wide eyes.

“They know about us,” he said.

“What?” Lily exclaimed, reaching for his phone.

She typed in the passcode and saw the million phone calls from his manager and publicist. She opened Twitter, and right there, trending number one, was a still of James’s arm around her when she broke her shoe.

"Lily Evans, caught in a love triangle."

"Actress Lily Evans and actor James Potter are rumored to have left the BAFTA after-party together despite Evans arriving with Severus Snape."

She clicked on the first article while her stomach soured.

"Lily Evans and Severus Snape have long been rumored to have been dating, but last night’s events have seemingly squashed the rumors for good."

The article went into detail about the rumors between Lily and Severus, before finally getting to last night.

"James Potter, actor, best known in his role on the popular historical drama "Mountainside Valley', was able to catch Evans on the red carpet when her shoe broke. The footage from the cameras that were rolling by the pair has been released.

According to sources, the two are familiar with each other. Lily’s co-star, Remus Lupin is both friends with Potter and is even dating his adoptive brother Sirius Black, so we can speculate that they have met before. Based on the videos, they do seem to be familiar with each other.

What really solidified the relationship between the two actors comes from an unknown source who attended the after-party. 'She sat next to him and then a few minutes later, they left.'

Fans seem to be having a lot of mixed reactions to Evan’s alleged actions.

@snapewife45346 wrote: 'ALL LILY HAS EVER DONE IS HURT HIM. HE NEEDS TO LEAVE HER ASS FOR GOOD!!'

@snnnily394 on Twitter wrote: 'i don’t think it’s true. She would never do that to him.'

@taraisgod wrote: 'They have never said they’re in a relationship, you all are just projecting. Let her be happy!!'

@mountainbaddie wrote: 'Evans UPGRADED'

Lily set down James’s phone, unable to do anything else. She met his eyes and took a deep breath.

Her gut reaction was that it sucked. It sucked that they didn't come out on their own terms. The studio was probably pissed, or maybe they thought the bad press was good press.

But as she looked at James, sitting beside her on his side of the bed, the bed he only rarely got to occupy these days, she realized that maybe it was a blessing.

“We could deny it,” James said, a frown tugging at his lips. “Say that we’re best friends if you think that’s what the studio would want.”

Lily shook her head. “I don’t want you like a best friend. I don’t want to deny myself of you anymore.”

He smiled, soft and sweet. Lily yanked the bedsheets off of herself and crawled over to him, straddling his legs. She was only wearing a pair of knickers and one of his t-shirts. His hands immediately snuck up the shirt and caressed her hips, his thumbs teasing her panties.

“Joint statement?” he asked, as Lily leaned in. She kissed him soundly.

“In a minute,” she said, kissing him again.

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[meliorist-midoriya]

to you, to the world, to my love (you’re all three)

synopsis: midoriya has always had too much love to give in a world that loved to take. you’re just hoping that he has enough left for you in the end.

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

genre: fluff with a touch of angst

warnings: some insecurity

word count: 2.5k

notes: happy valentine’s day, everyone! this is my contribution for the pocuties server collab, based off the greek types of love, of which i had the honor of receiving izuku and decided upon agape  please help yourself to the box of chocolates they’re offering for valentine’s, there’s a wide selection of chocolates handmade by talented creators, so i’m sure you’ll find something to your taste! tbh i only managed to finish this fic because i was watching chan’s valentine’s vlive and i was in a super soft mood ;3;

extra: agápe - the ancient greek concept of selfless, universal love.

“Making his debut in the pro hero scene, Pro Hero Deku is blazing a trail straight out of UA—”

“—Pro Hero Deku solved an astounding 30 cases in the past month—”

“Deku’s popularity is skyrocketing, rivaling that of—”

“Hero Deku—”

“Deku—”

“Pro Hero Deku has swept the hero rankings to come out on top as Number 1!”

With a resolute ‘click’ of the remote, the reporters’ overlapping voices cut off as the TV screen faded away, your lonely reflection staring back at you from the blank screen. You, curled up on your empty couch, in your empty apartment with the clock striking what should have been dinner. The TV was only there in an attempt to drown out the crushing silence, the white noise—hellbent on filling the space his presence had left—was deafening.

That attempt failed.

Horribly.

If anything, it just made the sense of wrongness permeating the air even worse. 

(That TV recap of his best moments didn’t help as much as you hoped it would.)

Being alone in this apartment felt… off. As if someone had gouged out what should’ve been there, the ghost of a presence settling a chill into your bones that ran far deeper than just plain loneliness. The foreboding grief of what could be, the fear that you’d resigned yourself to the moment you agreed to follow him on this path, the selfishness gnawing at your conscience every time you saw him run out the door to save the next person, to solve the next case. 

Things like an All Might coffee mug sitting primly next to yours on the drying rack, garishly yellow “tufts” staring back at you with a cracked vengeance. (You’d apologized profusely to him that day, promising to buy him another one. He’d just smiled over his cracked cup of coffee, telling you not to worry about it for the hundredth time.)

Things like his haphazard mess of notes and scrawl spread out on the kitchen counter, the pen sitting next to the half finished page. (You’ve long since learned to leave his notes be, they’ll be tidied up once he’s done… if he’s ever truly done.)

The filled queue of movies and pile of DVDs you’d picked out together, giddy over plans to watch the next time he had a free night. (You remember pretending not to notice him trying to slip another hero documentary near the bottom of the pile, distracting you with talks of popcorn and the night that was supposed to be tonight.)

Deku. The man the world adored, clinging to his promise like a lifeline in times of need. 

Midoriya Izuku. The man you loved, who promised you the world.

“It’ll be okay, I’m here.”

His soft promise echoed both in the battlefield and in your darkest hours, a close mirror to a hero of a generation past, yet it was different. It was his own. Comforting, personal, and wholly him. The public, weak and grasping for new support, latched on to the small sliver of hope his hand offered and he just kept giving, giving, giving. It never seemed to stop, and you were scared. 

He was a man with a bleeding heart with all the love to give and more. To the civilians, to the villains, to anyone in need.

Now, you needed his promise more than ever. A reassurance whispered into reunions and the thousandth hospital visit, over fresh scars and searing kisses. A promise that he would come home. You didn’t want to think of all the times he came so, so close to breaking that promise, even before you two had made it, before you two had even promised yourselves to each other in your UA days.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around you, staring down at your phone with no real intent in mind as you scrolled. The video playing one of his interview clips (bashfully reciting his “catchphrase,” how cute) cut his voice short as you scrolled past to move on to the next, wincing at the next tweet on your timeline. Him, battered and bloody, as he pulled a child from the aftermath of the battle he’d just won. 

You still need to wrap that new mug you got him as a gift. You still had to listen to him bounce his ideas off of you. You still had to move that hero documentary to the top of the pile. You still—

“Hero Deku saves 30 people, no casualties,” A soft murmuring of the headline shattered the silence, and you smiled to yourself, giggling at all the replies joking of how he threw himself into the fray a little more responsibly and singing their praises.

It’ll be okay.

“Ugh, those reporters are at it again.” 

At your best friend’s exasperated groan, you followed their gaze over to see— ah. 

A small swarm of reporters had worked their way into the fans crowding your boyfriend, their press badges reading every tabloid magazine on this side of the city and prying questions falling off their tongue like poison. From what you could hear over their overlapping clamoring, they were trying to dig into his private life.

Again. 

Deku, the darling of the masses, all sweet smiles and sincere words amidst his strength. Deku, the number one hero with the tightest lock on his private life, which came as a surprise to both everyone and no one.

It was a given, considering his position at the peak of hero society.

It was also a complete shock, considering his tendency to ramble into tangents that had his PR team withering.

Which seemed to help in times like these, now that you thought about it, laughing to yourself as you watched the reporters’ expressions darken in defeat the longer he continued to talk around their questions. Quite a long stretch from stiffly standing on the practice stage at UA all those years ago, frozen from nerves. You idly mused to this to yourself, taking a sip of your drink as you dragged your gaze back over to your best friend.

“Did you choose this cafe because it’s right along Izuku’s patrol route?” They stiffened, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their obvious intentions.

“Maybe, or it could’ve been just a coincidence.” The next teasing jab was halfway off your tongue when they cut you off before you could give into the urge, the words dying in your throat. “When was the last time you saw him anyway? I know you two live together but Todoroki told me he practically lives at the agency with how swamped they are. Are you okay?”

You purse your lips, staring down at the ice swirling around in your cup as you idly stirred it round. As if the sloshing liquid could whisper the answer you wish you knew.

“...Yeah.” They cocked a brow, and you took another sip to try and delay your time. “It’s not like either of us can help it. Izuku’s number one, so this was bound to happen.”

(The clamoring from the reporters grew ever louder. Persistent, that bunch.)

Their expectant (doubting) gaze was met with your own steady one, and you smiled. Whether it was out of consolation or resignation was anyone’s guess.

“We’re okay, I promise.”

You should really be getting to sleep. 

Really, you should.

At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past several hours, tossing and turning in your bed with nothing but winter-cold sheets and a gnawing loneliness to keep you company. You know you should be sleeping when the clock on the bedside table reads an ungodly hour and there was work to be done in the morning. You know you should be sleeping when the moon disappears from the night sky and leaves you with nothing but the city lights to dimly illuminate the dark room.

You really know you should be sleeping when you hear the front door click open, Izuku shuffling around the apartment to get ready for whatever minimal amount of sleep he’d get before he had to be up and running soon after.

Despite this, sleep still refuses to come, and you don’t bother pretending to be asleep when he slides into bed next to you. Instead, you turn over and curl into his chest, stifling the guilt that bubbles up when he jumps in surprise.

“Something keeping you up?” Oh, he sounds so tired, and part of you wishes you could just make it all go away. The weight of the world rests heavy on his shoulders, and deep down, you wonder if you’re part of that burden. You curl a little closer, as if trying to smother the thoughts that crashed upon you, spilling over the crack in the dam that only widened the more you spoke.

“Jus’ a little lonely, is all.” Your voice is too quiet, brittle, and you pray to every deity that would listen that he would drop it. That he wouldn’t take on yet another burden when he was already carrying Altas’s share of the world.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Of course, the gods are hardly ever so merciful—to them you are just another wishful mortal in the realm of the holy and damned—and Izuku’s hand rests on your cheek with a tenderness that makes you want to cry.

“...Why?” 

The confusion that falls over his expression (gaunt, tired, and God, should you even be doing this right now?) is immediate, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze with yours, like he could find the answer in city lights dancing over your face. His thumb strokes soft patterns over your cheek—as if brushing off the layers you’d built to protect your soul—and you lean into his soft touch with a sigh.

“Why what?”

The words spill from your lips unbidden, your hesitations softened by the comfort of his touch, the sudden drowsiness, and the emotion that near overwhelms you.

“Why do you still try to do everything yourself? When there’s so many people out there, ready to support you?” His breath hitches in shock, but it’s too late to go back now. You reach up to hold the hand cradling your cheek, distantly remembering a time when he was too insecure of his scarred and crooked hands to even hold your hand.

He’s come a long way, indeed.

“I love you, Izuku. I just don’t know if that can hold up against your love for the world.” 

Something in his gaze softens, to your surprise. His smile is even softer.

“What would you do if you’re both?”

“Wh— Izuku—”

He continues, and you listen, raptured by his words spoken into the glow of the blue hour.

“Yes, I know that at the end of the day, peace and safety has to come first, but—” His smile widens into something bashful, a smile that never failed to send butterflies scattering through your heart. “—who says you can’t be right along with them?” 

He bumped his forehead with yours, smiling emerald eyes gazing into your own with such love—dizzying and overpowering and so, so warm. With the steady thrum of your heartbeat matching his, you found yourself falling even deeper once again.

“You know me, I can never compromise when it comes to what’s important to me.”

You laugh, something watery, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, temple, cheek, with a last, smiling kiss on your lips.

“How greedy.” He laughs into your lips, pulling away to hold you closer.

“Just for you.”

There’s so many things you could’ve said, as you watched the rest of the night sky fade into the deep blues of dawn. But, you decide, the comforting silence was best left as is, only broken by one resounding comfort.

It’ll be okay.

“You know, it would’ve been nice to know that you had taken the day off before I had that whole guilt spiral last night.”

“It turned out okay though, didn’t it?” He turned back to flash you that cheeky grin of his, half-hidden by his winter coat and backed by the glow of the setting sun. You just rolled your eyes with a laugh before jogging to catch up to him, slipping you hand out of your pocket to interlace your fingers with his.

“Yeah, it did.” 

The walk was silent as you two strolled down the familiar path, winding down after a whole day spent with each other. It was romantic of him, now that you thought about it, to take the whole Valentine’s Day off just for you. You hummed as you leaned onto him, giddy and content at the thought. 

In love, if you were to be so bold.

(Granted, he had to wear a mask and a cap the entire time to hide from the prying eyes of the public, but you made do.)

The sight of aged, familiar scenery pulled you from your musings, and you tugged at his hand to grab his attention, pointing at the quaint bench surrounded by bare gingko trees.

“Hey, wasn’t this the park where you confessed?” At your words, he froze and glanced over at the familiar scenery, eventually burying his face into his free hand with a groan once the old memories clicked in his head.

“Oh, don’t remind me. It’s still embarrassing to look back on.”

“What? I thought you were cute!” You laughed, nudging him to follow as you led him over to the small park, brushing off the dust to sit on the bench before patting the space next to you. Izuku obliged, and you almost automatically curled into his side, as if by habit.

“Did we really walk all the way here from the station?” His disbelieving tone made you look up at him, his expression one of nostalgic awe, before casting your attention back to the aged scenery, humming in agreement as you idly picked out what’s changed and what’s stayed in the years that have passed.

“I guess we never really forget, huh?”

“I forgot the sunset looked the best from here.”

“I hope you didn’t forget all the memories we made here.” He tore his attention from the sunset to gape down at you, scandalized.

“Of course not!” 

“Really?” He arched a brow at the teasing lilt to your voice and the mischievous grin playing at your lips, “So you didn’t forget accidentally firing an Air Force shot at me when we first met because you were training?”

He buried his face in his hands again with another embarrassed groan.

“I hoped you would forget that, at least!” You just laughed, hugging him closer as if to console him from your teasing. Before long, the atmosphere settled back into a quiet reminiscence, indulging in the nostalgia of memories past in this little park. The silence that was once deafening alone, now softened by the comfort of his presence at your side.

“We’ve made so many memories in this park, huh?” At your soft hum of agreement, he continued. Was his voice shaking? “It wouldn’t hurt to make more, would it?”

“What do you me—”

Your question cut itself short as you saw what he held out to you. 

A little velvet box, sitting open in his hand. You dragged your suddenly watery gaze back up to Izuku, his once bashful smile now wobbly with nerves. 

So familiar in this little park, yet so new.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It was just a small walk down memory lane, the street lights blinking on one by one in the wake of the fiery sunset as you two walked the familiar path together. Yet there was something buzzing anew in the air, humming through your soul as you held out your hand to the sun, admiring the way the gem on your ring finger sparkled in the fading sunset. In the other, you interlaced your fingers with his.

Yeah… 

You caught Izuku’s soft gaze, smiling and in love.

We’ll be okay.

[taetaespeaches]

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.2K

a/n: Finally we have some fluff again! I mean, the angst is still here, but we’re getting to a resolution. This drabble is inspired by “this is me trying” off of Taylor Swift’s album, folklore, and it takes place after, “You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” This also includes a hint of crack for some comic relief, and because where Jin and Poopsie go, crack follows. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)) 

STEPPING into your apartment, returning home from work, your eyes scanned the small space with distaste. You dreaded coming home to your empty sofa and your empty kitchen and your very empty bed. Even more so, you hated the disappointment you felt in yourself for letting another person get so close to you that they started to feel like home.

Dropping your bag at the front door, you kicked your shoes off carelessly before making your way straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Your showers had been doubling in length, perhaps in hopes that the heat of the water would scald the past couple months right off your skin. Or maybe it was just to feel something other than the hurt.

It was just two months of your life. Why was it having such an impact? It had only been three days since Yoongi walked out, so you hoped it was just the newness of it all that had you feeling so hollow.

Yoongi was just stopping by the dorm for a change of clothes and then he was heading back to the studio. He had spent three days straight in his studio, not even returning to the dorms after leaving your place. Whereas his fans would probably think he was working hard on the second Agust D mixtape, he was mostly just sulking.

He did what was best right? You said you were ruining yourself over him. He was ruining you. So, he left. He didn’t try to work it out, he left. For you. That way, you would have a chance at happiness with someone else. Someone more suitable for you. Someone who could give you what you deserve.

Walking toward his bedroom with his overnight bag in tow, the sound of his roommate’s squeaky laughter echoed through the hallway. Yoongi was suddenly very thankful for the isolation his studio provided, as he remembered Jin saying his girlfriend was visiting family for a few days so he wouldn’t get to see her right away upon returning to Korea from Japan. She must be back now.

“I don’t care if the whole game and franchise is named after Mario, Yoshi is hands down the best character in the Mario realm, and that’s just a fact,” her ranting sounded through the closed door, Jin interrupting her with overdramatic sound effects. Yoongi’s hand was on the doorknob and he had half a mind to ignore his need for a change of clothes and escape back to his studio before anyone noticed he was there.

“There wouldn’t even be a Yoshi if it weren’t for Mario because there would be no Mario franchise,” Jin shouted back, Yoongi’s motions still stalled as he stood on the other side of the door in disbelief. Fucking Mario? Really?

With a sigh, Yoongi opened the door, clearing his throat to alert the two idiots of his presence. Jin’s head popped up off the pillows, greeting Yoongi with an, “oh, hey,” his girlfriend sitting up from her spot next to Jin on the bed.

“Oh, Yoongi, thank god you’re here,” she exclaimed, Yoongi flashing her a surprised expression. “Tell Jin that Yoshi is the best Mario character.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it,” Jin shouted with wide eyes, his girlfriend turning to look at him. “Yoshi can be your favorite character, but you can’t argue he’s the best.”

“Why can’t I?” She complained, Yoongi quickly losing all interest as he escaped to his side of the room, separated from the bickering couple by a large bookcase.

“Because it’s not called Super Yoshi, or Yoshi Kart,” Jin informed her. Yoongi hurried around his belongings, shoving some clothes into his bag so he could get back to this studio without being dragged back into the couple’s pointless disagreement.

“You’re so annoying,” she huffed, Jin laughing at her attitude.

Zipping the bag back up, Yoongi started toward the door, anxious to get out of the dorm, away from everyone.

“Aw, but I got you something in Japan,” Jin told his girlfriend. Her silence piqued Yoongi’s interest, for reasons unknown to Yoongi, enough for him to look back. She was looking at Jin with her eyebrows raised as Jin pulled out a Yoshi figure from his pocket. “It’s Yoshi!” Yoongi watched as the girl held back a smile, trying to keep up her challenging glare. “I may disagree with you, but I support you and your poor judgement,” Jin teased the girl, lowering himself onto his knees on the bed.

“I'm in love with you, so you may be on to something with the poor judgement thing,” the girl teased right back, taking the figure before cooing at it. “It’s so cute, thank you,” she told him, Yoongi quickly exiting the room.

Part of him found the two lovers cute. A much bigger part found them annoying and gross. Shoving their love in everyone’s faces. He felt like a bitter old man as he shuffled out of the dorm angrily. Why was it that Jin could manage a relationship? How was it that Jin could have his shit together, but Yoongi couldn't? And Hoseok for that matter. Hell, even Namjoon was seeing someone. Why couldn't Yoongi do the same? Making his way out of the building, you overtook his mind. You would have called him out on being a bitter old man. “Jesus, Grampa Min, stop being so grumpy,” he could hear you saying with a giggle. You’d probably even press a kiss to his forehead, flashing him a warm smile. All anger and bitterness dissipated from his body, leaving him sad and frustrated with himself, even more so than before.

Another addition to the list of things you were growing to hate about your living space: it was cold. Bundled up in a large sweatshirt, baggy sweatpants, and colorful fluffy socks on your feet, you waited in the kitchen for your water to boil. All you wanted to do was have a cup of tea and plant yourself in front of the TV to waste away while watching the next Netflix series in your queue. Your still wet hair only made you colder, a shiver moving through your body, causing you to let out a groan.

You resisted the urge to check your phone. He surely hadn’t texted, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the pain that struck your heart every time you saw no notifications from him.

As you mindlessly played with the ends of your damped hair, a knock suddenly sounded on your door, and your heart dropped into your stomach. It had to be him. No one ever visited you at 6:30 pm on a Thursday night. You thought about not answering it, but when the knock sounded again, you convinced yourself you could be wrong. It could be someone else.

Then you caught yourself hoping it wasn't someone else.

Hesitantly, you opened the door, and if you weren’t so angry you would have cried at the sight in front of you.

Yoongi stood in your doorway, dark circles just as prominent as three days ago, eyes puffy and slightly red, one of his hands shoved into his pants pocket, the other hanging by his thigh as he held onto a bouquet of tulips.

Your eyes lingered on the flowers for a moment, not because you really cared about the gesture, but because the appearance of the man who had always been so composed before now looking so completely broken on your doorstep was almost too devastating for your heart to bear.

His eyes scanned your features desperately, though neither of you spoke. It was hard to find the words.

It felt like minutes passed by before Yoongi finally opened his mouth to say something, though he struggled to get the words out. “Kid, I-” he started, tears forming in his eyes.

“I don’t want your flowers if they come with disillusions,” you told him bitterly, holding onto your anger, despite the bubbling feeling of wanting to wrap him up in your arms.

Your eyes followed a tear as it slid off his plush cheek, the cheeks you adored so much, landing on the side of his hand. “If you want me to lay out all my mistakes right now, I will,” he told you sincerely, the comment taking you by surprise. “For starters, I shouldn’t have left. I should have fought with you, I should have stayed to finish that fight,” he said in frustration, partly to himself.

Maybe the words should have confused you, but you understood exactly what he was saying. For you both to express your frustrations with each other and with yourselves, the fight needed to happen. With Yoongi leaving, you didn’t get to the point of discussion following the anger. Instead, he walked away, as if you weren’t worth fighting with, or for.

“Why did it take you three days to come back?” You asked, a strange mixture of anger and sadness and hope swirling around your stomach.

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back,” he admitted sadly, wiping his face with the back of his hand to get rid of the tears, the bouquet messing his fringe as it made contact with his forehead. He avoided eye contact, keeping his stare directed to your fuzzy sock-covered feet.

“Of course, I care,” you told him, taking a step back to allow him space to enter your apartment. His eyes followed the colorful fluffy material as you moved aside. “Now get in here so we can fight.”

You barely noticed the quirk in Yoongi's lip as it curved just slightly into the tiniest of smiles. He entered your apartment tentatively, and his presence already made it feel more like home again. You felt certain in that moment that no matter what room he walked into, it would feel like home.

Turning toward you, still avoiding your eyes but raising his gaze to your waist, he weakly held up the bouquet. "These are tulips," he told you dumbly, finishing the statement off with a sniffle.

You stared at him for a moment but he didn't continue. "I know," you finally said.

Another beat went by as you faced each other, a feeling of awkwardness enveloping the room. “They symbolize-" he started, just as the teapot started screaming in the kitchen.

“Hang on,” you told him, rushing to the kitchen to remove the pot from the stove, turning the burner off. For a moment, you thought about sitting in the kitchen for a moment to gather your thoughts, but with a vulnerable Min Yoongi standing just a few feet away, you found yourself hurrying back to him.  

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked, Yoongi looking to the side of the room.

“Tulips symbolize-”

"Yoongi,” you breathed out. “I don't care about the flowers right now, what are you doing here?" You cut him off, getting straight to the point.

"I want to fix this," he told you sincerely, lifting his gaze to meet yours.

You shrugged. "And how?" He stared at you for a moment, so you decided to continue. "I'm sick of feeling like I'm not wanted."

Yoongi quickly negated the comment, shaking his head. "I always want you."

"Then why do I feel unwanted by you?" Your volume raised as you asked the question, Yoongi appearing to hold his breath for a moment. Letting it out in a shaky breath, he looked back to your feet. "You say you want me but your actions say different, Yoongi. And you can't tell me how I feel, I feel unwanted."

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes. "I'm not trying to tell you how you feel, I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I made you feel that way," his voice broke.

"I don't want to hold this over your head, and I don't want you beating yourself up for it," you told him. "I just want you. But if I can't have you and feel good about myself and us, then I need to you to leave and I need you to stay gone." Speaking the words added cracks to your heart, but it also lifted a weight off your shoulders.

"I deal with a lot of shit," he suddenly said, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Mentally. And that mixed with my work- I'm afraid of putting you through hell just because I'm selfish and want you," he told you with tears in his eyes. That’s what he’s afraid of? Putting his burdens on you? "I get so stuck in my head and I was in Japan and all I could think of was you and,” he sighed, looking into your eyes. “Fuck, Kid, I wanted to call you every moment I was gone. But that's for me, what am I giving you?" He shrugged hopelessly.

"You," you told him, your tears threatening to fall. "You're giving me you."

"And what's that worth?" His question shattered your heart. What's that worth?

"Baby, that's worth everything to me," you told him. "When you’re actually giving yourself to me, I feel more like myself. I feel braver and happier and-" looking back at the bouquet in his hands, you asked, "why tulips?"

He stalled for a moment, surprised by the question. "Right now?" Nodding at him, you bit back a grin. A faint smile appeared on his face, scoffing at himself. "Tulips can mean rebirth and forgiveness and true love, and I'm not saying we're in love,” he quickly backtracked. “I mean not yet, but we could be some day, and," he spoke slow but he was lost in his words, panicking over bringing up love, and the sight of him trying to find his way was enough to make you crack a smile. His speech faded out as he watched your face brighten just the slightest bit, a blush overtaking his plush cheeks. "I don't know what the fuck flowers mean, I don't know what I'm doing."

"That much is obvious," you teased, Yoongi letting out a single breathy chuckle at the comment.

"All I know how to do is care about you, Kid," he shrugged.

Tears forming in your eyes at his confession, you shook your head. "Then care about me."

"I'm trying," he told you, staring into your eyes. For a man who usually avoided eye contact, you were surprised by the sincerity he was trying to convey as he held your gaze. "I really am trying."

"I know," you nodded. And he was.  

"I wanted to protect you from me," he added, his orbs scanning your face. "But fuck, Kid, I can't stay away from you." You watched him thoughtfully as he spoke. "But when I saw the hurt in your face-" he paused to compose his emotions. "When you said you thought I left that morning," he shook his head. "That's when I first realized what I was doing to you."

"But you don't have to do that to me," you reminded him. "You don't have to protect me from you, I've told you I'm prepared to be with you regardless of your lifestyle and your work." Yoongi stared at you as you spoke, and you cocked your head at him. "I'm ok with the time apart and the late-night dates and the days where we can only fit a few texts in.”

“But are you ok with me? And everything that comes with me?” He asked. He was really asking, he needed the assurance.

“Of course, I am,” you told him definitively. “I want all of you. You don’t need to wear this mask around me, you don’t need to shield me from you. And you’re not the only one with demons,” you told him. “I want you and everything that comes with you. I’m just not ok with feeling like I'm always about to lose you."

"Baby," he whispered.

"I can't keep being afraid that every time you walk out the door, you might not come back," you whimpered, a tear falling down your cheek. "I need assurance too, I need to know you're in this with me as much as I am with you." Yoongi nodded quickly.

"If you want me here, I'm here," he assured you, sincerity coating his words.

"I want you here," you told him. Yoongi suddenly tossed the bouquet onto the table before approaching you. His arms wrapped around your body before you could react, your arms slowly folding over him, holding him close to you as he buried his face in your hair. You felt a kiss on the top of your head, your body responding by relaxing against his frame, turning your face to nuzzle it against his neck. "I'm sorry for the shit I said," you mumbled against his cool skin, still slightly cold from the night air.

"Don't apologize," he whispered into your hair.

"I didn't mean the mean shit," you added, Yoongi chuckling at the obvious pout on your lips.

"You were hardly mean, Kid," he told you, pulling away just a bit to look down at you with a soft smile, his eyes glistening in emotion.

“Well, I’ll never mean the mean shit,” you said with a small smile.

"I missed you,” he told you as he wiped the fallen tears off your cheeks.

"I missed you too," you whispered. “We were supposed to fight, you know,” you added teasingly.

“That wasn’t a fight?” He questioned in feigned surprise. “We still can if you want,” he playfully responded, his eyes widened humorously.

“You came in here trying to explain flower symbolization and I just couldn’t get mad at you,” you giggled, Yoongi smiling adorably just before pushing his lips to yours, giving you a sweet kiss. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away again.

"Yoshi or Mario?"

"What?” You questioned in utter confusion. “Min, I'm trying to make out with you," you complained with a look of dissatisfaction, Yoongi smiling fondly at the expression. With a sigh, you said, "Yoshi, obviously, what do you think I am, an idiot?" Yoongi laughed fully at the comment, his shoulders shaking as he flashed you that adorable gummy smile you were so obsessed with. "Why?" you asked through a small laugh, "what about you?"

"Honestly, I could not care less," he smiled, now your turn to laugh.

"I love that about you," you told him through your big grin.

"My roommate, Jin, thinks Mario is better," he told you, you raising your eyebrows in response. "I think you should come by the dorm to put him in his place. Maybe meet all the other guys too?"

You smiled widely as you nodded. "I'd love to," you said softly, Yoongi nodding before leaning in to kiss you again. "I mean, for Yoshi's honor," you whispered right before his lips pressed to yours.

"Of course," he giggled against your mouth. Pulling back just slightly, Yoongi stared at you for a moment, his eyes appreciating your every feature slowly, taking his time, as you did the same with him. Wrapping his arms around the back of your neck, he tugged you closer to him to hold you against his body once again. "Jin's a moron but remind me to thank him one of these days," he whispered against your temple.

"I will," you giggled. "But for what?"

"For having his shit together."

[smol-and-grumpy]

What I Want Most - One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s life has been all work and no play lately. When Gabe, his friend, coerced him into tagging along to a club, he couldn’t say no as Gabe has been pestering him for a while now. What Dean didn’t expect was that he’d meet his match in that club in the form of a stunning woman with underlying daddy issues.

Warnings: NSFW, mostly daddy kink, rough oral, praise kink, rough sex, one-night stand to enemies to lovers (is that a trope?)

Word Count: 6840 (whoops!)

A/N: Apparently, I can not write pwp anymore. This should have been a one shot but it ended up a mini series. Sorry.

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

“C’mon, man!” Gabe urges, his hand comes up to pat Dean’s padded shoulder. 

He’s still in his suit, having gone into work because of that damn project. The deadline is on Monday, and that’s also the day that the execs want to talk to him. He still doesn’t know what’s it about, fears the worst. Maybe he has a reason to? Dean doesn’t know why they would fire him, though. Since he had the news that they wanted to talk to him on Monday, he’s been working harder, knelt himself deeper into the workload, was barely home and if he did, it was just to sleep, only to get up and go to work before dawn. 

It’s crazy. It really is, because it’s not even his dream job but he still needs it. At least until Sam moves over here in a couple of weeks. So, the goal is to hold on to this job for as long as Dean can.

Gabe has picked him up from work, complaining that Dean hasn’t got any time for drinks anymore. Little does Gabe know that he’s been drinking himself to sleep every night lately. And Gabe’s fucking persistent. He was waiting outside the building until Dean had come out and now he coerced him into standing in line for a hip club that has the reputation for debauchery and illegality. It’s just a rumor. Dean’s never been here, but Gabe apparently had.

“This better be good, Gabe,” Dean grits his teeth. The wind is chilly tonight, but for most of the people in the queue, especially women, there's apparently no reason to wear more clothes. 

“It will be, once we get in,” His friend says and rights his suit. It’s weird to see Gabe in a suit, a rare sight, but he wore it because suits always get you into things in the city, “There’s going to be so many girls, huh?” Gabe elbows him in the ribs, “Maybe you can find one to help you to unwind,”

They’re next in line and Dean moves up with Gabe, his hands in his pocket as he shrugs. Well, Gabe is not really wrong. It has been a while since he scored, even longer when he had something steady. It’s not that Dean didn’t want to. It’s more like he can’t find the time. His last relationship, or what felt like it, was over a year ago, and already then, she ghosted him because Dean ghosted her first. Not deliberately, though, he was just busy. And business is a constant lately.

Maybe Gabe is right, Dean wouldn’t mind finding someone tonight. It would be welcoming to take off the edge, forget the looming Monday for a couple of hours. 

They are finally at the front of the queue, and the doorman ushers them through the open door. As soon as they enter the building, the bass of the music hits him. The bass vibrates through his body, traveling up his spine. 

There are plenty of girls, scantily clad, dancing and laughing, waiting for someone to pick them up and buy them a drink. He wonders if he’ll find one he likes. He’s picky, doesn’t want to hook up for the sake of hooking up, if that makes sense. Dean kind of hopes he’d find one with a buried daddy issue, which is really not hard to find in the city, he just needs to be alert and read their body language.

He follows Gabe across the dance floor as the man shoulders his way through to the bar, finds a spot and plants himself there at the counter, making himself bigger than he really is. Dean joins him, smirks proudly at his friend as he orders them a drink. It’s him paying, like he always does with Gabe. Gabe is a good friend but Dean still earns more so that’s the least he can do for what Gabe’s doing for him, being there whenever Dean needs a friend.

While they wait for their drinks, Gabe looks around, eyes scanning the dance floor. Dean watches him at first, watches him smile at something, and turns his head to look at the source that produces the smile on Gabe’s face. 

That little shit has already found his prey. 

“Don’t wait up for me, I guess.” Gabe looks back to Dean and takes his drink, walks across the dance floor to dance with a girl who’s more than willing to share the drink with Gabe. 

Dean turns back to the bar, his elbows braced on the counter as she shakes his head and chuckles. 

Suddenly, there’s a voice beside him and it seems like it’s talking to him.

“Hey, big guy, can you move a little?”

He tilts his head to look at the woman, who appears to be alone. Dean’s interest is piqued. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” He moves a couple of inches to the left, gives her room to press herself against the counter. 

She smiles, leans herself over the top to talk to the tender, her tits squashed on the bar top. While the bartender prepares her drink, she’s still leaning over the counter but she turns to him with a smile. With the tilt of her head and body, he can see that her tits almost spill out. Dean can’t look away even if he wanted to.

“You come here often?” He asks with a crooked smile. 

“Nah,” She smiles back, “I just moved here today, starting a new job on Monday. Just needed a break from unpacking so a friend brought me here. You?”

“First time,” Dean replies, “Where’s your friend?”

“She went to the back,” She says, “Apparently there are rooms?”

Dean shrugs, “I wouldn’t know.” With his next breath, he adds, “Names Dean, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean, I’m Y/N,”

When her drink arrives, a seat at the bar becomes available and Dean urges her to sit down. She does, albeit reluctantly. While she sits, her skirt rides up a little, exposing the tender flesh of her thighs. He’d like to touch, he really does, but Dean has to be clever about it. 

They are talking while Dean orders more drinks.

“What about your parents?” He asks after a while of talking. He knows that she’s been living in another city, works in the same field as he does, came here for a job but when Dean asked where she’s working, she wouldn’t say and that’s a good girl because people can’t be trusted, not even him. She just finished talking about her one sibling whom she doesn’t talk to anymore. It’s different for him and Sammy. 

“Just my mom, I never knew my dad,”

Yahtzee.

They keep on talking and Dean gets bolder, stands beside her at first with an arm around her waist. He rubs circles on her back with his thumb and she smiles at him, laughs at his stupid jokes too. 

After one more drink, she’s scrambling out of her seat and stands back at the bar, and he should be wondering why but he isn’t. He just knows. She presses her body against the counter and Dean cages her in from behind, lowers his mouth to her ear, places a soft kiss there that makes her shudder noticeably. He chuckles low. 

“You wanna come back to mine?” He whispers lower than he chuckled out before, noses behind her ear and moves lower, plants little kisses down her neck, making her arch her back, driving her sweet ass against his crotch. He’s semi-hard from thinking of what he’ll do to her, only getting harder with the rubbing. 

“You want that?”

“Yeah,” Dean darts out his tongue, swirls it around her earlobe and there’s an actual moan. 

His right hand travels down the front of her body, fingers span wide on her stomach and it dips lower. He watches her breath hitch in her throat, feels her shivering. 

“What would you do to me, huh?” 

Instead of answering right away, Dean’s hand goes further down, hitches the seam of her skirt up a little, teases the tip of his middle finger along her clothed pussy. 

“Oh god,” She groans and throws her head back to rest on his chest while her back is still arched. 

He chuckles, “Call me Dean,”

His hand goes further down, and she parts her legs a little. A fucking good girl, indeed. He rubs long her lace panties, feels the fabric damp. He gets bolder too, his fingers hook into the crotch of her panties, pulling it aside. 

It’s skin on skin and Dean lets out an audible groan at the wetness he feels, bites into the junction of her shoulder where it meets her neck. It prompts her to drive her ass into him harder. 

“You’re fucking soaked, baby, is that because of me, huh?”

He flicks at her clit with his thumb, dips just inside of her wet pussy with the tip of his middle finger. 

“Uh-huh,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

Dean chuckles as he pushes his finger in some more but not too much. It’s just a tease after all. He closes his eyes, groans again. He’s fucking hard by now and he presses closer to her ass, making her feel what’s going to await her.

“You’re so wet and warm,” He breathes out next to her ear, “Who’s making you so wet, huh?” 

“Fuck,” 

“Who, baby?” He goes further in, applies more pressure with his thumb.

“Y-you… you, daddy,”

Y/N doesn’t seem to have noticed the word she let slip out, or she’s too far gone to care if he’d be appalled by it.

He sucks in her earlobe with a chuckle, releases it before he nibbles at them. Not so much that it hurts, but enough to inflict a little pained pleasure, “Yeah? Did daddy make you all wet, huh? Jesus, you’re so tight and warm, making me want to fuck you so bad,”

“Do it,” She drives her ass back, wriggles with it deliberately, “Please? Daddy?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

She really is into this. 

“Gonna take you home first, baby, you up for that? Huh?” His other hand massages up her throat and Dean paints along her mouth with two of his fingers. He can’t really see but he can feel. 

Nodding her head, she opens her mouth, sucks his digits in, and swirls her tongue around them. 

Fuck.

“Your mouth, baby,” He whispers, “Feels good around my fingers, would love to see them around daddy’s cock,” 

“Mmmh,” A moan of approval accompanied by a shiver.

“Would you like that, huh? Like for daddy to use your mouth? Let you suck my cock like the good girl you are?” Her pussy clenches around the one digit and Dean grins, “Yeah you do. Gonna use your sweet mouth, can’t wait to feel those lips around my fat cock, baby girl,” He pushes his fingers deeper into her mouth, feeling her retching against him, “Yeah, gonna make you choke on daddy’s cock. That’s what you like, don’t you?” 

She hums around his digit, and her pussy clenches some more. 

Dean really hit the jackpot tonight. He should send Gabe a thank you card for bringing him out here.

“C’mon, let daddy take you home,” 

Y/N didn’t realize the word that slipped out of her mouth, but she was glad Dean ran along with it. Using it even more afterward too. He got harder hearing it out of her mouth, an added bonus, really. There aren’t a lot of guys who are into it and god, that guy is hot and is fully on board with it? She fucking loves this city. 

He doesn’t live too far, it was just a ten minute ride, where he moved close to her and let her drape a leg over his thighs. His fingers are in her pussy, fucking her with them while he fucks her mouth with his tongue to the same rhythm. Her hand is on his crotch, palming and rubbing him through his slacks. 

Dean groans into her mouth, parts just for a minute to catch his breath, and whispers low,  “Jesus, can’t wait to get my dick into that tight pussy, baby girl,”

Fuck. She can’t wait either. His filthy mouth turns her on so much. 

The cab comes to a halt at a building which is in the nicer part of the city. She wished she had enough money to live here one day. Maybe she will one day with the new job she’s starting on Monday. 

He lets go of her long enough to pay the driver and she tugs her skirt down as she gets out. Dean holds out a hand for her to take before he guides her into the building and into the elevator. 

Pushing her against the wall, he presses his one thigh between her legs, the skirt riding up in the process. He kisses her again, his one hand braced on the elevator wall, his other hand around her throat, applying enough pressure for her to not feel like he’s restricting her. His mouth hovers around hers and he moves in, pecks her lips gently, “Come on, rub your sweet cunt on my thigh, baby. Get yourself warm and nice for me,”

She nods and he claims her mouth, kisses her hard, the scruff rubbing against her cheek, his tongue licking into it deep as she moves her hips and rubs her ruined panties over his clothed thigh.

God, the friction feels phenomenal. 

The elevator pings, and Dean chuckles as he pushes himself from her, chuckles, because she’s still rutting against nothing. 

“Fuck, you’re really something,” He whispers as he manhandles her out of the elevator only to drag her along the hallway.

It’s easy, she thinks, so easy for him to manhandle her around. He’s so broad and strong and just... fuck , she wants him so bad. 

He comes to a halt in front of a door that says 823 , reaches into his pocket to pull out a set of keys and she stands behind him, reaching her arms around his body. Her one hand palms over a clothed, yet still so fucking hard cock, while her other hand tries to unto his belt buckle. 

“Baby,” Dean chuckles, “Can’t open the door when you’re distracting me,”

“Just want you so bad,” She says, her forehead leans against his back and she feels his muscle shifting. 

Y/N got the belt loose before Dean found the keyhole, her hand sneaking into his pants, traveling over the tuft of pubic hair until she wraps her fist around his dick. 

He lets out a groan and closes his eyes for a moment before he goes on with trying to get into the apartment. 

Dean shakes his head, “You really want that dick, huh?” 

“Yeah,” She whispers against his back, her hand now jerking him off. She squeezes a little more at the head of his dick, and pads over his slit to smear the precum around his tip. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” Dean mutters under his breath and she hears a click before he turns around, making her release her grip around his cock. 

He crashes his mouth on hers, kisses her hard, his fingers fisting in the hair at the back of her head as he pulls her into the apartment with their lips still attached. He kicks the door closed with one foot. 

After a while of intense kissing, Dean pushes her away, making her stagger back. 

“Strip, baby,” He says in an absolutely dirty voice all deep and husky and she does because god, she would be damned if she didn’t want to be his good girl tonight. 

Her shoes are off quick and she pushes her skirt down, her underwear comes right after before she pulls her top over her head.

Dean has released his cock, is fisting it while he watches her undress herself in front of him, groans when he sees her nakedness. 

“Beautiful,” He lets out, smirking a little. It’s a boyish grin and that’s when he slips out of his role a little, she thinks. With his next breath, he catches himself again.

Normally she’s pretty self-conscious, but she has the feeling that the guy standing before her who’s ready to get his cock wet, doesn’t mind how she looks since they came this far already. Plus, the light’s still off, but the light from the moon and skyscrapers shines in, making her see enough to want him even more.

His dick is heavy and hard in his fist, as he massages it up and down. Her mouth waters at the sight.

“Get down on your knees,” 

God, yes. 

Finally.

Y/N kneels before him and Dean takes a step further in as he groans. Her mouth is already open and inviting, but he takes his time, rubs his heavy dick over her face. 

“Looking so good for daddy, baby,” He huffs out. 

The rubbing smears his precum on her face. She feels wet drops here and there and the scent of his arousal is intoxicating. God, it’s making her drool. 

“You want my dick, huh?” He asks, tapping his dick lightly to her cheek, “Want to show me how good you suck cock?”

“God, yes,” She agrees with a frantic nod of her head.

“Call me daddy, baby,” Dean chuckles, “Open up your mouth wider, stick out your tongue,”

She does what she’s told.

“Good girl. That’s daddy’s good girl,” He says almost fondly and slaps his dick against her awaiting tongue, “Now suck,”

Well, she doesn’t need to be told twice. Sealing her lips around the head, she starts to suckle at it and Dean groans, throws his head back as she looks up.

“That’s right,” He whispers as soon as he catches himself, “Look up at me, I want to see how much you like sucking my cock, baby,”

She tries her best, she really does. His cock is thick, the taste of precum and a day’s worth of musk is heavy on her tongue, the scent penetrating her nose. It makes her suck him harder, makes her leak profoundly between her legs because she just wants him so fucking much.

“Spread your legs, touch yourself,” Dean mumbles, “I wanna see you touching yourself, baby. Wanna see you make yourself come while you suck my cock,”

Oh god, yes. She’s so close too. It’s no wonder, as she’s been balancing on that fucking edge since he fingered her in the club. 

Spreading her leg but still on her knees, she pushes a hand in between, fingers herself, and rubs against her clit. The sound of her wetness is loud in the room. Dean groans when he hears it.

“So fucking good, baby girl,” He huffs out. His hand comes to push a strand of hair out of her face to see her better, “Sucking daddy’s cock so well,”

“Mmmh,” She hums in approval with his dick in her mouth and fuck, hearing him praise her just does things to her and she comes, quick, hard, humming and shrieking with his cock in her mouth. It makes him push his pelvis against her harder, making her choke when the tip of his dick hits her throat.

“Good girl,” Dean hums as he pulls his dick back but he leaves her to suckle at his tip, “Such a good girl for daddy, I’m so proud,” His hand finds the side of her face, applies pressure on his palms as he grips it, “I’m going go fuck your face, okay? Can you take that, huh? Take my dick?”

She looks up and hums, nodding her head.

He smiles down fondly, his teeth showing white and the crinkles around his eyes run deep. His grip around her face tightens a bit as he starts to fuck into her mouth, getting deeper inside with every thrust and she braces her hands on his thighs, fingers gripping at the fabric of his pants when she feels his dick choking her. 

Dean presses his pelvis to her face, his pubic hair tickles her nose and he stays there for a while until she taps at his thigh because she feels like she’s going to pass out if he doesn’t let her come up for air. 

And it’s weird. Really weird. She should be scared of doing this with a stranger, yet she trusts him. He has won her trust in such a short span of time. Some would call it naivety. 

When he releases her face, she gulps for hair, trying to fill her lungs before he thrusts in again and he does. He gets faster too. The drool is running down her throat, her chest is wet. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispers between thrusts, “Your mouth is fucking perfect, baby. You taking my cock so well,” 

It makes her wetter hearing it and she’s sure that there’s a pool of her juice right below her. 

“You want my come, baby? Want me to come in your mouth?” 

Oh, god. More than anything right now. 

She wants to feel him, to fucking taste him, so she nods her head as he stops his thrusts for a second. 

Dean grins cockily. It’s really a good look on him, “Take it all, okay? But don’t swallow yet. Keep it in your mouth, baby,”

Another nod. 

“Jesus,” He groans as he picks up his thrusting, “You’re perfect, baby girl, so good for daddy,” 

His thrusts are faster before he comes and when he does, he lets out a deep growl as he pulls his cock out and fills her mouth with his cum. 

Y/N does as she was told. She doesn’t swallow, instead, she opens her mouth, letting him pour in every drop he can milk out of that beautiful cock of his. 

Dean’s spent dick is getting softer, but it still looks impressive, at least when it dangles so close to her face. 

There’s a drop of cum on the corner of her mouth and he scoops it up with his thumb, pushing it into her mouth. His eyes are on her, a glow around him after his release. It makes him even more attractive and she wonders how fate is sometimes cruel to give her something she craves but takes it away again because it’s a one night stand. That’s all there is. He knows it as much as she does.

His other hand goes up below her eyes, brushes away the smeared mascara and with his thumb still in her mouth he tries to angle his stance to get her other eye as well. 

Her mouth is full of cum and drool, almost spilling over but Dean takes his time, stands back to marvel at her. 

“You look so pretty,” He says, again with a fond undertone, “Would take a picture if I could,” The cum’s floating over, and Dean pushes his thumb inside her mouth some more, “You may swallow now, baby,”

She does, closes her eyes to get the thickness of his cum down with his thumb still in her mouth. She sucks at the digit, signaling to him that it’s all gone.

“Open up,” He whispers, “Show me,”

Y/N smiles when she does, opens her mouth wide to show him that she’s swallowed it all.

He chuckles, “Good girl, you’re really a good fucking girl, baby,” 

Taking his thumb out, he brushes it along her lips before he grabs at her arm and pulls her up. He kisses her then, letting out a languished groan when he tastes himself on her tongue. 

“Down the hallway, the room to the left. I want you spread out on my bed, play with yourself okay?” 

Dean kisses her on her nose and she nods before she makes her way to his bedroom. Climbing on his bed, she positions herself with her back against the headboard and spreads her legs. Her one hand plays with her pussy, fingers dipping in deep, before rubbing at her clit wetly. She closes her eyes, thinks about what just happened. Thinks about his voice that she’ll probably never forget. Thinks about his taste that she won’t be able to erase out of her mind. 

It’s not long before Dean joins her, in one hand bottled water, in the other are her clothes and shoes. He’s really being considerate. Or he’s a neat freak. Either or. Not that it matters.

He drapes her clothes over a chair next to the bed, sets her shoes right below it before he unscrews the water and hands it over to her to drink. The coldness of it travels down her throat, making her shiver. Maybe she shivers of anticipation too, who knows. 

Setting the water on the nightstand, Dean continues to undress, taking off his suit jacket and drapes it over another chair. While doing it, his eyes are on her. 

She’s still rubbing herself, fondles her tits one-handed too, pinching her nipple, and arches her back.

“That’s it,” Dean croons, “Touch yourself, but don’t make yourself come, I wanna feel you come on daddy’s cock,” 

Oh god.

She wants that too.

He watches her some more as his fingers slowly unbutton his shirt. Too slowly and it’s not fair because she just knows that he’s teasing her. When he takes his shirt off, she can see how broad he is, can see the muscles moving. He’s soft and firm and so fucking delicious. By the time Dean takes off his underwear, his dick is already more than semi hard. It’s impressive, really. She still can’t believe that she had that down her throat.

When he’s naked before her, he tugs at his cock, jerks it while his eyes are on her and he walks closer, climbing on the bed and walks closer to where she is on his knees. 

“Jesus,” He growls, “You’re making me hard again, baby,” 

There’s a smile tugging at her lips as a sense of pride washes over her. 

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” She says it in her best sultry voice.

“No,”

“No?” She frowns a little.

Dean chuckles, “No, I gotta taste you first,” He shoulders himself between her thighs, “Be a good girl, hold your legs up for daddy,”

Shamelessly, she hooks her arms around the back of her knee as she pulls them up and apart, almost folding herself in half. That’s how eager she is to spread for him. 

His big hands are on the back of her thighs, helping push her back as he hovers above her wet pussy, “That’s my good girl,” He chuckles, warm air hitting her core, and she trembles.

He doesn’t stall, instead, he buries his face right in there, sucking and lapping around her sensitive nub like it’s the only thing that keeps him the fuck alive. 

“Your cunt’s so sweet, baby,” He moans, as he spreads kisses all over her pussy, “Could eat you for days,”

Alternatively, he switches from sucking to lapping, and her hand finds his hair fingers, pulling at it, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind. He even starts to hum and that drives her fucking crazy.

It’s when he pushes in a thick finger that she almost loses it. Has to throw her head back and close her eyes when he curves the finger just right. He soon uses another finger, rubbing against her inner wall with it while he sucks at her clit and she just knows. She just fucking knows that she’s going to come again.

Her grip tightens in his hair, fingers digging into his scalp but Dean goes on, licking her and sucking her while he thrusts his fingers inside of her.

“Da- fuck- daddy,” She bites on her lip and the wave that hits her is strong, making her release her own legs, making her squeeze them around Dean’s head, “Fuck, oh my god,”

Dean chuckles as he spreads kitten licks on her clit. He pulls his fingers out and they pop out with a wet squelching sound, “You’re doing so good for me, baby, but please, call me daddy,”

The way he looks up from between her legs makes her heart race faster. Half of his face is drenched with her slick and there’s a glisten in his eyes while his lips are crooked into a smile that’s full of bravado.

He’s still fingering her lazily, circling his thumb soothingly around her clit, not applying too much pressure because he knows that she’s sensitive. Dean leans down and kisses her, swirls his tongue around her own. He parts with a bite on her lip, making her squeal and laugh. 

“Can you fuck me now, daddy? Please?” She pouts a little for the effect but god, she’s so desperate for his cock. Desperate to feel him inside of her. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this and you can say no, okay?” He starts while he lays himself next to her, kissing the side of her face while he rubs between her legs. Dean dips down sucking a nipple into his mouth, bites on that too, chuckles when she moans.

“What?” She asks, fearing the worst. Fearing that he’ll say that it’s been a mistake and he only wanted to go this far and no further, fearing that maybe he’ll say that he’s too tired, or that he wants to put off fucking her for real for another day, or fuck, what does she know? There are so many possibilities that run through her mind right now.

Dean noses along her cheek, his nose is still damp, and she can smell her scent off him, “I was wondering if I could fuck you without condom, and before you say anything, I know it’s stupid but god, you feel so fucking good around my cock and you’re so fucking wet, I really want to feel it,”

Oh.

Y/N can’t believe what she’s going to say either. She’s never been so careless before but fuck, she’s really so far gone, and as she said before, she doesn’t know what it is but she fucking trusts Dean. 

“I can’t believe that I’m saying it either, but please please, fuck me raw, daddy,”

“Jesus,” Dean groans as he quickly captures her mouth, tongue swiveling against her own. He sucks in her tongue before he releases it, “Come on, get on top of me,”

With one swift movement, he manages to manhandle her on top of him and she straddles his body, moving down inch by inch. He groans out again when she feels her leaving her wetness on his body on her way down. 

Spreading herself over his hard cock, she grinds her pussy lips on it, slicks it up with her juice, teasing him in the process. 

“Fuck, baby girl, don’t be a tease now,” 

She chuckles but doesn’t stop and he lets her, probably enjoying the view and her playfulness. When she’s had enough and almost bursts herself, she grabs at his cock and points it upwards. Slowly, oh so slowly, she lets herself down.

Dean let out a groan, bites down on his bottom lip as she works her way further down his shaft. He helps a little, pushing his hips up, and down again when she manages to take all of him. 

Her hands are braced on his chest and he rubs along her thighs. She needs a moment to get used to it, her walls fluttering around his girth.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mutters under his breath, “You feel so fucking good, baby, like I thought you would. So wet and tight,”

Y/N’s plenty wet, Dean’s right about that and she gets even wetter as she starts to bounce on his shaft.

“So good, baby,” He coos, his hands on her hips, helping her guide herself up and down, “So pretty bouncing on daddy’s cock, fuck,” His one hand goes to her tit, squeezes it tight before he slaps down on her nipple, “That’s it, baby, fuck me,”

And that, she does. His words make her wetter, make her bounce on top of him harder. Up until she’s worn out and retorts to grinding. 

Dean pulls her down by her arms, kisses her as he thrusts his hips up to not lose the rhythm, “Is my baby tired, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” 

“Should daddy take over?”

“Yes, please,”

With a chuckle, Dean turns them both around until he’s on top, without slipping out of her. He gets up on his knees and pulls her closer by her legs so that her ass is on top of his thighs as he begins to fuck her deep and slow.

“Like that, baby?” He asks with one thumb circling her clit.

“Uh-huh,” 

There’s really no coherent word that she could bring past her lips. 

“Yeah?” He asks as he thrusts harder. He changes angles then, puts her down on her back and pushes her legs up so that he can thrust in even harder, “Like it hard?”

“Fuck, yeah,” 

“That’s a good girl, baby,” Dean whispers, “Your cunt, that’s mine tonight, isn’t it?”

His thrust gets deeper, just the way she likes it, making her roll her eyes to the back every time he hits her cervix.

“Yours,” She manages to say, “Fuck,”

“Who am I, baby girl?”

“Shit,” 

He starts to rub her clit while his slows his thrusting, but he still goes in deep, reaches her every corner where she wants him most, “Tell me, I want to hear you say it,”

“Daddy-, fuck, daddy, you’re my daddy,” 

“That’s right, baby girl,” He coos, “I want you to remember that, okay? Remember who makes you feel good,” 

He talks like she could ever forget him. It’s so fucking hard to and she doesn’t think she’d be able to even if she would try.

“Oh my-,” She bites on her tongue, knows that she should say his name, “Daddy, I’m fuck- you’re going to make me come,”

“That's okay, baby, come,” He pants, “I wanna feel you coming on my fat cock, can you do that for daddy, huh?” His one hand goes to her throat, claws around it and squeezes it just right. It gives her the much added trigger to explode.

Fuck , who taught him to fucking talk like this?

Dean chuckles, “I can already feel your cunt squeezing around me, baby, you’re close, so fucking close, ain’t you? Come now,”

It’s not like she needs permission, they didn’t work that out but fuck, if she’s not a good girl. So she comes, right around his cock. He releases his hand around her throat, brushing over it just lightly to smooth away the pain.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dean groans as her walls squeeze down on him. His movement starts to falter and she can feel that he’s holding himself together, “You feel so good coming on my cock, baby. You just got tighter too, fuck,”

It’s about only three hard thrusts later that he starts to tremble, “Where do you want me to come?” 

She looks up at him, her hands curl around his biceps with every hard hit to her cervix, “I want, fuck, I want you to come inside, daddy, please? Wanna feel your cum running out for days,”

“Baby, you’re a fucking nasty girl, ain’t you? Fuck,” 

Oh god. He’s right because that’s what she fucking is. She has no shame whatsoever. 

“Gonna come so deep in your cunt, baby, mark it as mine,” He thrusts faster but not as deep anymore, “How does that sound?”

“Please,” She is basically begging him.

“That’s my good girl, taking my cock so well and now my girl wants my cum too, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” He growls low, and pushes in twice more, hitting her cervix before he stills and spills his cum deep inside of her. 

Dean lets himself fall on top of her, braces his elbows on the side of her face so as to not crush her. He dips his head down, kisses her deep and tender while his dick still twitches inside of her with his release.

They took a shower together after that, cleaning themself off their filth and cum, and Dean’s worn out but he couldn’t help himself, made her come again in the shower on his dick alone with his thumb buried in her ass as he fucked her from behind. If he should fuck her again, he wants to try that back hole too, is almost sure that she’d let him because she went nuts when he stuck his thumb in there. Jesus, he hopes there’ll be a next time. It doesn't happen often that he wants to see a one night stand again, but with her, he’s ready to make an exception.

Now she’s really tired and almost falls asleep in his arms while he carries her over to his bed. Dean tucks her in and slides in next to her, pulling her into him and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He kisses her gently, hand brushes away the hair from her face, knuckles grazing her cheeks.

He feels her smile into the kiss.

“Thank you,” She whispers and is already drifting off.

Dean chuckles, “You’re really something else, baby,” 

  *

He wakes in the morning, realizes that the bed next to him is empty. Tilting his head around, Dean looks at the chair, sees that her clothes are gone along with her shoes.

Heaving his aching body from the bed, he sits up and rubs his hands over his face, “Fuck,”

She’s gone. Dean doesn’t even have her number. He really doubts he’ll see her again and that’s a fucking shame. 

*

Monday rolls around and Dean’s nervous. 

He’s pissed too, because he called Gabe and persuaded his friend to go to the club again but of course she wasn’t there. He waited longer than he should have, turned down four girls because he wanted to meet the right one. He had been losing sleep because it had gotten late and the thought of having to be in the office in five hours doesn’t help. 

So he sits in the meeting room, waiting for his bosses to arrive to maybe fire him, even though he fucking aced the presentation to the project this morning.

“Hello Winchester,” Mr. Turner says as he sits down and Mrs. Mills takes the chair next to Mr. Turner. They sit across from him. 

“Mrs. Mills,” He nods, “Mr. Turner,”

“Have you been informed why we called you in today?”

“Not, really no.” Dean shakes his head as he rubs his sweaty hands on his slacks. 

Mrs. Mills smiles, “We are thinking that you’re doing a great job,”

“I am?” He cocks an eyebrow, as if he can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Mr. Turner chimes in, “The reason for this meeting is this. You know that Mr. Campbell is retiring in a couple of weeks, right?”

“Yeah,” 

Dean knows. He’s been invited to the farewell party organized by Mr. Samuel Campbell himself. 

“Right,” Mrs. Turner nods, “We are considering you for the position.”

“Really?” He can’t hide the grin, and even if it’s a job he absolutely doesn’t want, it feels great to be considered for it.

“There’s a catch, though,” Mrs. Miller says and of course there is. There’s always a catch in this company. 

“We have a newcomer from an external company who also applied for the job. The person has a good reputation and great recommendation letters.” 

Of course. Dean nods. They always have. 

“We want to watch the two of you for about a week, two tops, see how much you’re willing to give of yourself, how driven you both are. We’re going to make a decision and please don’t take it personally if it’s not you. I’m sure the next position that opens up will be glad to have you.”

“Is this a competition?”

“See it as such, yeah. We talked about it in the boardroom and we really think it’s fair to give the other person a chance to get some more work experience in the company before we would consider them suitable for the job. With you, Mr. Winchester, we already know it, but that doesn’t mean that you have the job for sure.”

“Right,” 

He’s never good at losing but that’s because Dean never loses. He’ll have an advantage over that dude. It’s probably going to be a piece of cake. He barely has to lift a finger, probably.

“Are you ready to meet your competition? There are projects you have to work on together, so it would be good if you get acquainted with each other.” Mrs. Mills asks.

“Sure,” Dean shrugs with a nod.

Mrs. Mills gets up from her chair to walk to the door. She opens it and keeps it open wide and then it feels like the air has been punched out of Dean’s lungs.

He’d recognize that face anywhere. He also remembers those long legs in heels.

“Mr. Winchester, meet your new colleague, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,”

Chapter Two

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— US AGAINST THE WORLD ; PART 4 / ?

( credits to @animusrox for this gif )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2247 hot diggy dog

SUMMARY: You have a heart-to-heart conversation with one of your students before the play and you're hit with the realization that your love for Bruce may be more than meets the eye. hence, you’re starting to wonder if it was a mistake you can never fix.

A/N: This one’s long and kinda depressing. I’m in an angsty mood now whoops. Nevertheless, thank you for reading this series, the bagels will make its appearance and enjoy this one folks.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, depressing thoughts.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

The night of the show arrived quicker than you anticipated. The flurry of theatre kids rushing about backstage is quite the sight, feeling the incredible sense of pride of a mother for her children. Yet in prayer, you ask Mrs. Wilson for the gift of strength and ability to manage a bunch of highly-strung teenagers. It’s only Shakespeare after all but you knew that wasn’t the genuine nature behind their stage jitters. With all tickets sold out within a week, it has easily become the biggest event of the year aside from homecoming. It may be a little pretentious for a high school production of an over-performed Shakspeare play to emerge as the highlight of the year, but you know it will help with some of the students’ portfolios for acting school.

The clock ticks—thirty minutes before showtime and panic starts to creep.

Your fingertips dance along the selvage of the extensive drapery of the stage as lighting queues are being run through for the last time. The urge of curiosity lets you crack open the curtain as you peeked at the rest of the theatre. The bustling crowd made up of mostly teenagers with seats rapidly being filled, it’s certainly a sight for sore eyes. Amongst the settling audience, you spot Bruce, seated between Mr. Walken, the principal, and Mr. Huckleberry, the vice-principal, likely being shamelessly asked for donations. He looks engaged, but his posture and the gaze of his eyes tell a very different story—Bruce is barely listening to a word they’re saying.

He then turns in the direction of your hiding spot and despite the distance, he catches your eye, immediately recognizing it’s you spying from behind the curtains. You watch the curve of his lips turn up into more of a smirk, swiftly sending a wink your way. You instantly disappear behind the curtains, cheeks burning.

You sometimes find it hard to believe you’re sleeping with the man with no strings attached because you’re incredibly attracted to him.

Someday, you’ll burst out into an exaggerated love confession, and you know it’s going to be ugly. It’s a reality check and right now, it’s the last thing you want. Running away from your problems is more of a habit than a choice as you would rather live in the world your mind has created, where miracles are made and defects cease to exist. Anyone would trade the cruelties of reality for a perfect one yet getting too caught up in a daydream will eventually evolve into toxicity. Bruce orbits the very core of your problems and daydreams. You want to run away from him and allow yourself to be engulfed by his presence at the same time.

You just need...to breathe. Hence, the second dressing room has a weird stench to it. It’s a mess but it’s empty. Yet, it seems you aren’t the only one in need of space, away from everyone else. Shaniqua is seated at the far corner of the room on a crooked metal chair, dressed in a somewhat modernized version of an Elizabethan era dress. Very elaborate and theatrical. Despite her introverted character, she was constantly bright-eyed and keen during your classes. She had a drive like no other. Hell, she miraculously memorized all her lines in two days.

You’ve never seen a furrow of the girl’s brows, until now, and it worries you. Even her glitter-covered eyes could not conceal the dismay they portray with prominence. Gingerly, you made your way to her as she stared at her fidgeting hands. It was only when you settled on the opposite dusty old chair when she finally noticed your presence.

“Stage fright, huh?” you casually asked, resting your arm on the dressing table. She mirrors your posture, heaving a deep sigh, and shakes her head. “No, it’s just,” A pause, her gaze finds yours. You nod, flashing her a smile. It’s a simple gesture that you’re here to listen. “It’s about Oscar...” You catch a hint of a smile as she trailed off and in an instant, your brow raises with curiosity. Oh? Another beat of silence, her eyes dart around the room. You sit quietly with patience because you knew she had more to say.

“It’s just that doing this play has got me thinking a lot about my feelings. I mean, if Romeo and Juliet could be lovers, despite their feuding families, then it must be easy enough for me to admit that I like Oscar.”

“You have a point.” You chuckle, eyes crinkling with amusement. Sometimes she thinks too much for her own good. She reminds you of Bruce. Shaniqua flashes you a faint smile, lips pressed with doubt. “But why am I finding it so hard to just tell him that?”

You stayed silent for a moment or two, mind deep in thought. The chair creaks as you shift in your seat. “Well, could it be that you aren’t sure if he likes you back?”

A hum in response, shrugging coyly as she mumbled a ‘maybe’. Although it was clear as day to you that Oscar liked her back, you wondered if her doubts emerged due to their differences in character. The familiarity of the situation is beginning to feel a lot like deja vu.

“How do you know that someone is the one?” Her sudden question catches you off guard because, in all honesty, you aren’t confident if you knew the answer. A straightforward question, commonly seen in the pages of teenage magazines, written for innocent eyes. You knew its true nature and it terrifies you. The image of Bruce charges through your thoughts like rushing water, memories of times when the two of you were younger clouding your mind. You forcefully push back your university days, buried back deep into your conscience.

“I don’t exactly know the answer to that but in my opinion, it’s—it’s the feeling of completeness when you love them and know they love you. They may be different from you, but it doesn’t make you love them any less. There’s no conflict or strife; it’s just the two of you against the world.”

Those words were raw and genuine, carefully crafted directly from the heart. You weren’t surprised by your words because you’ve thought about it a lot, especially on nights you slept on Bruce’s bed. Maybe, you do love him, and that's a huge ass problem. It’s amazing how unexpected situations tend to encourage apprehension on large issues you never knew existed in the first place. Perhaps it was your astonishing lack of discernment when it came to matters that could potentially alter your life.

Tonight, a sixteen-year-old girl did just that.

Amid your growing anxiety, you manage to catch sight of the wall clock, hung on the other side of the room. It’s now eight minutes until showtime. Your eyes are now wide as you sprung up from your seat in the sudden realization that everyone should be at their respective positions two minutes ago. “Oh God, we’re running late. Shaniqua, word of advice—don’t end up regretting something you didn’t do,” You shoot her a pointed look, index finger stretching towards her. “Now, you really need to go, or we’ll have to delay and you know Mr. Walken hates waiting.”

-

It’s a quarter to nine, and the theatre is empty. Outside, the foyer and the hallways are buzzing with the remaining audience, lingering and sharing inane conversations as others wait for a car to take them home. You had only just finished rearranging the costumes in the wardrobe of the dressing room. You tried to sweep the scatter of glitter all over the floor but it deemed a task as impossible; you’ll deal with it next week.

You’re sitting in the seat at the front row, nearest to the aisle with a large box filled with props on your lap. Alone in transcendental silence, feeling as empty as the theatre itself. It was partly the conversation you had with Shaniqua that hit you with the reminder of all the mistakes you made that have led you to this unchanging world of a blur that takes the blame for the wretched feeling in your chest. Yet, as the show progressed, hearing the words of affection from two lovers had sent your mind reeling. You were desperate to head home, crawl into bed and potentially cry yourself to sleep but the growing anxiety forbids it, you don’t even think you could drive home.

So, you stillness of the theatre reminds you of Edward Hopper’s painting, Solitary Figure in a Theater. With eyes shut, you pretend you are the figure in the painting, sheathed in black, sitting alone in the cavernous dark.

You hear the door of the theatre squeak, swinging open followed by the shuffling of feet. You don’t look at first, too tired anyway. You’d assume someone had either forgotten something or it was the janitor that you’re sure is going to be upset over the glitter massacre in the dressing room. It looked like a crime scene, except it was the murder of a literal unicorn. You made a mental note to send an apology sandwich of some sorts next week.

It was the familiarity in the whiff of cologne that made you snap your eyes wide open, looking over your shoulder to meet with the sight of Bruce, ambling down the aisle towards you. He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “What are you still doing here?” He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “I could ask you the same question.” He settles in the seat next to you, elbow brushing against yours. Your head tilts, gesturing to the box. Bruce merely hums and nods thoughtfully.

“So, how was the play? Does it get a Wayne seal of approval?” There’s a hint of teasing in the curve of your lips as his eyes drift to the stage. “I liked it. The kids have talent.” Your eyes glint with amusement, your smile growing wider. “I never knew you were a fan of romance.” His laugh comes out more like a huff of air, crinkled eyes meeting yours, and nudges you lightly. “Well, now you know.”

He recognizes the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes and the way you’re fussing with the edges of the box on your lap. Something is bothering you and he knows it. He nudges you once more. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You blink once. Then twice, face wincing instinctively. You keep forgetting how well Bruce can read people, especially you. You exhale slowly as he watches you struggle to pick the right words.

“It’s really nothing. It’s just-” you say after a long minute, cutting yourself short. Then, you turn to Bruce. “I’m growing older, and I’ve spent my entire life in a fog with so much fear for reality, I’m afraid it’s too late to fix all my mistakes and regrets.” Your voice dwindles with every word that escaped your lips. You were young, naïve with the notion that time was extensive to make decisions without thinking it through. To know that you could never take back the things you did. Saturn’s rising, it’s a wake-up call now that you’re older and the fear that you would never change creeps onto you with every passing birthday.

Bruce defines the epitome of the sinking feeling in your chest whenever you lay in bed at night and let your mind reel about your existence. Yet, it isn’t as simple as you want it to be. The boy you met at university has grown into a far more complex and entangled mess of the grief of his parents, the responsibility he held over this city and the drive to just...keep moving on. For the longest time, it was him against the world, and a part of you wants to believe that it doesn’t have to be that way. That maybe, you could be enough for him.

He glanced away from you, trying to hide the despondency in his eyes. He holds back a sigh as he speaks, “Do you regret us doing this?” As vague as his question is, you know what he exactly means. He remembers the time the two of you used to exchange senseless conversations and laughter so vividly that it scares him. Juvenile friends, lacking the knowledge to know what love really was. Hence, the agreement—it was just two friends, messing around. Nothing could go wrong. Now, the hole has been dug in too deep, with no way of getting out.

“I don’t,” you reply and with just two simple words, his chest feels like fire. It was the way you had said it, with so much confidence and assurance, despite the intricacy of this relationship. For the first time in a long time, you were extremely sure about an answer. You could never regret Bruce. Never.

It’s almost hesitant in the way his hand finds yours, but it represents his care for you, even if you may not know it. The warmth of his hand feels like fire. Hell, your chest feels like it’s on fire, heart burning for the man beside you. “I’ll drive you home,” he whispers with a squeeze of your hand. You flash him a grateful smile as the two of you drift into a comfortable silence. Silence so eloquent that you don’t feel so empty anymore. No longer a solitary figure trapped in a painting but now two, hand in hand, against the world.

TAGLIST

@raineeace

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Simple Man

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3351

Summary: It was never what he thought he would have. But now Dean doesn’t want to let go. 

Notes: I was going to wait and make this a Thanksgiving special, but I thought today would be more fitting. I can’t believe Supernatural ends tonight! This show has been a part of my life for a while now and it will forever stay in my heart.  I had a really really good time writing this one. It might be one of my favorites I’ve written for Dean, if not my top pick. I hope you guys enjoy it and look forward to seeing more. Carry on. 

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

(P.S. thank you to my beta reader @suckmysupernatural​. Love you!)

-

Oh, take your time, don’t live to fast

Troubles will come and they will pass 

He had slept through an alarm he didn’t remember setting. It wasn’t until he heard the creaking of the door that he stirred, reaching under his pillow for his knife. But it wasn’t there. Dean panicked as footsteps crept towards him. They were nothing more than a small pitter-patter on the wood floor, but he still prepared himself for the attack. The small creature leapt on top of him and he rolled over so he was pinning it beneath him. It giggled. It giggled?

“Daddy, Mom said she needs you in the kitchen.” 

Dean leaned over to the night stand and turned on the lamp. A little green eyed girl squirmed out from underneath him and skipped out of the room. 

“The hell…” Dean muttered. He opened the dresser and sure enough, his clothes sat in the drawers. He put on a T-shirt and slowly walked out of the room. The smell of bacon and coffee coaxed him to the kitchen. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 

You were standing over the stove, trying to save the bacon from burning. Dean was just frozen in the doorway. Finally spotting him, you made your way over to him, which was difficult with the little boy clinging to your leg. 

“Thank God you’re up. I need you to finish making breakfast.” You lifted the boy into your arms. “Eric’s got a fever and Ellie is going to wake up any second needing to be fed.” You gently laid a hand on Eric’s forehead. “I’ll call the doctor as soon as I get him to lay down. But you know how impossible that is.” 

“But I’m not tired.” Eric whined. 

“I know, sweetie, but you don’t want to get sicker, do you?” He pouted his lip and shook his head. “Alright, so I need you to go back to bed.” You looked back at Dean. “Can you just finish the bacon? I’ll be back to make their toast.” 

Before Dean could speak, you rushed up the stairs. As if on queue, a baby started to cry from somewhere upstairs. Dean just stood in shock. What the hell was going on?

As if by second nature, he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel to let the bacon drain off the grease. It felt almost natural. He somehow knew where everything was, even though he had never been here. Or had he? His brain was fuzzy with thoughts he couldn't remember. He saw images flash in his mind. Sam graduating from Stanford. His parents celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. You… in a wedding dress. 

“Johanna Charlotte Winchester you better be ready for school or your dad’s going to come and get you!” You yelled, coming back into the kitchen, this time a wailing baby in your arms. It wasn’t until now that Dean noticed you were wearing a sheriff’s uniform. You snatched up a piece of bacon and popped it in your mouth. “Thank you.”

You bounced the baby in your arms, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. The green eyed little girl from early came bounding into the room with her backpack over one shoulder. Ellie continued to bawl. 

“Can you hold her? She always stops crying when you hold her.” You handed the squirming child to him and he tried not to panic. You noticed your husband’s awkwardness. “Rough morning?” You snickered. “Here, I’ll make you some coffee.” 

As the child in his arms slowly stopped her crying, more memories flooded Dean’s head. You telling him you were pregnant for the first time. Going to the emergency room for the birth of his son. Watching Johanna hold her new baby sister. They all felt like dreams, but then how was this all real? 

“I’m feeling a little... off this morning.” He admitted, watching you carefully as if he were waiting for horns to sprout from your forehead. Your face fell. 

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re sick too.” You put your hand on his forehead. “You’re picking everyone up from the airport today.” 

“Everyone?” Dean’s brows furrowed curiously. 

“I would go get them, but I’m at the station until five.” You sighed, moving your hand down to caress his cheek. “Besides, you’ve been dying to see your brother since the Fourth of July.” 

“Uncle Sam!” Jo exclaimed excitedly. 

“Sammy’s coming?” Dean asked. Finally, something familiar. Your face contorted with confusion. 

“Of course he’s coming. Jessica and the kids are too. They always help prepare for tomorrow and since your parents will still be out on their cruise, we’ll need all the help we can get.” 

“Tomorrow...” He spotted the calendar on the wall, but you answered first. 

“Thanksgiving.” You stated. Your confusion changed to concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to stay home?” Jo raised her hand. 

“Can I stay home too?” 

“Sweetheart, it’s just one more half-day of school before break and then you’ll get to play with your cousins for the rest of the week.” Seeing you start to get stressed, Dean put a hand on your shoulder. 

“You go to work. I’m fine.” He assured you. “I’ll hold down the fort and I’ll pick up Sam at- what time again?”

“3:00.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I know you worked extra last week so you could have the garage closed for Thanksgiving, but I think the fumes might have gone to your head.” You grabbed the keys off the counter. “Oh, and I’ll be taking Baby to work since you’ll need the van to fit everyone.” His look of displeasure made you laugh. “I know, I know, but you’ll have to suck it up for today unless you think the four-year-old can babysit.” 

You kiss Ellie on the forehead before giving Dean a quick, but passionate kiss on the lips. You held out your hand for your daughter to take. 

“Alright, partner, let’s go.” 

The two of you leave and Dean looks down at the baby in his arms. Was this really happening? 

-

Boy don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself

Follow your heart and nothing else

If he was trapped by a djinn, he would have remembered fighting it. This was something else. The more time he spent in the house, the more this world felt real and his hunting life felt like dreams. Maybe… maybe this was real. 

He remembered everything now. He had met you in a bar on New Years Eve. You hit it off talking about cars and classic rock. He proposed about two years later outside that same bar during the first snow of the season. You always said the first snow was the best one. You got married and a couple months later found out you were pregnant with Jo. Johanna Charlotte Winchester was born on April 3, 2007. She was seven. Three years later, Eric Samuel was born on November 29th. He was four. Lastly, Ellen Sandra was born six months ago tomorrow on May 27, 2014. 

Sammy had a family of his own. He married Jessica right out of law school and the two had two boys; Josh, 8, and Michael, 6. Their families stayed close, even though Sam was in California and Dean in Kansas. They were happy. 

If this wasn’t real, how could he remember all that? 

3:00 rolled around and Eric’s fever had gone down. He called you to make sure it would be okay to take him along to the airport. You told him that as long as he was feeling okay, it should be fine. The doctor said it sounded like the heat in his room was too high. Dean buckled Eric into his carseat and Ellie in her carrier. While Johanna almost looked like a mini-girl version of him, Eric looked like you. His eyes were yours, along with his hair color and his nose. Ellie looked like a fair mix of both. 

Jessica was the first one to greet him since Sam was busy carrying the boys’ bags. He hugged her tight and couldn’t stop beaming. 

“It’s so good to see you guys.” He smiled and she gave him a sunny grin in return. 

“I know Sam’s been eager to see you and the family for a long time. Of course, I’m only here for the food.” She teased and he pulled her into another hug. 

“I can’t believe this.” Dean sighed happily. Sam and Jessica. Him and you. One big happy family. 

“Do I get a hug, or are just going to hog my wife?” Sam snarked, setting down the bags as Dean nearly tackled him. Sam laughed, struggling to breathe in his brother’s crushing hug. “I missed you too, Dean.” 

“Uncle Sam!” Eric cheered, clinging to Sam’s leg. 

“Hey buddy.” Sam smiled, lifting his nephew into his arms. Jessica peaked into the baby carrier Dean had set on the bench. 

“Look at how big she’s gotten.” She awed. Ellie was asleep, so she spoke quietly. Jess frowned, finally noticing the two brown haired boys fighting over one of their comics. “Josh, stop pushing your brother.” She scolded. 

“He took my comic!” The older of the two retorted. Jessica just gave him a stern look and he surrendered. 

“Michael, give it back when you’re done reading.” Sam ruffled his youngest son’s hair. Dean knelt down. 

“So are you two tough guys too cool to give your uncle a hug, or what?” He pulled his nephews into a warm embrace. “Are you both taller? You’re taller than the last time I saw you.” Dean pat Josh on the back. “You’re gonna be taller than your dad before you know it.” 

“You know, you’d see them more if you flew out to California.” Jessica noted. Dean’s eyes widened. She laughed. “I know, I know, you have a thing about flying.” 

“I want to go to California!” Eric exclaimed.

“One of these days, we can go on a roadtrip in Baby to Uncle Sam and Aunt Jessica’s, how does that sound?” Dean promised. Eric nodded, excitedly wriggling in Sam’s arms. 

Everyone loaded up into the van, Sam sliding into the passenger seat. Dean had to laugh. This was just so crazy. Here they were, driving in a van packed full of children. Their children. He thought of all of the times Sam sat beside him in the impala, the two weary from a hunt. It felt like a different lifetime. Like a different world. It felt less real. 

-

You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love

And don’t forget son, there is someone up above

Four children ran around the backyard, jumping in leaf piles and chasing each other with sticks. Jo seemed to rule the yard, keeping her older cousin at bay with her stubborn persistence. Dean smiled proudly. 

“She’s quite the pistol.” Jessica noted with a laugh, jutting her head towards Johanna. She was sitting beside you, bouncing her baby niece in her arms. 

“I wonder where she gets that from.” You gave your husband a smirk. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“I love you so much.” He whispered. The tone in his voice made you glance up at him. He was watching you with intensity in his eyes. So much love and yet… there was pain there. 

“I love you too.” You laced your fingers with his, your concern evident in your voice. “Dean, are you okay? You’ve been acting a little weird all day.” You spoke quietly so you wouldn’t worry your brother-in-law. Your husband gave your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m fine, really. I’m just…”  Dean felt an overwhelming wave of emotion and choked back tears. “Really happy.” He lifted your chin up, bringing your lips to his. Everything was perfect, right down to the way your lips fit perfectly against his. He knew, without a doubt, that this was real. 

Soon it was time to put the kids to bed. Sam’s boys slept on the pull-out couch in the basement. Eric was exhausted from a day of excitement, as well as his baby sister. Dean was charged with the task of putting a rambunctious Johanna to bed. 

“I want to stay up and drink beer like a big kid.” She pouted, making the adults in the room chuckle. Dean crouched down and picked her up. 

“Alright, here’s the deal. I promise that when you’re a big kid like me and your mom, then you can stay up and have a drink with us. But until then, you’re gonna be my little deputy right?” He tapped the golden plastic badge that she never took off. Jo grinned from ear to ear and nodded. Humming a Bob Segar tune, he took her upstairs to her room and tucked her into bed. 

When he came back down stairs, his brother and the two women were smirking at him. 

“What?” You and Jessica exchanged a look and burst out laughing. “Come on, what?”

“That girl has you wrapped around her finger, Dean.” Jessica snickered. You took a sip of your beer. 

“Oh, he’s like that with Ellie, too. He dotes on them like you wouldn’t believe. One little pout from Johanna and he melts.” You couldn’t help but beam at your husband. You loved the way he was with the kids. 

“I got her in bed, didn’t I?” Dean huffed, taking his seat beside you and resting a hand on your knee. Sam shook his head. 

“It’s all in the looks, brother. You may think you’ve one this round, but I saw the look in Jo’s eyes.” Sam gave his brother a sure nod. “She knows where she stands.” 

“At least I’ve got Eric,” You sighed teasingly. “He’s a mama's boy, through and through.” 

You curled up beside Dean, comfortable in his warmth. He kissed the top of your head.

The hours passed with plenty of laughter and love. Soon, it was getting close to 11:00 and you wanted to get plenty of rest for the busy day tomorrow. Everyone would be helping prepare the massive Thanksgiving meal that the Winchesters made every year. Sam and Jessica said goodnight and headed to the guest room while you and Dean made your way upstairs. 

You reached your rooms and Dean’s hands found your waist, his lips trailing up your shoulder to your neck. You leaned back into his embrace, bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers in his golden-brown hair. His hands started to wander and you sighed mournfully. 

“Baby, we both have to be up in the morning.” You groaned, breaking away from him. When you turned around, he was pouting, his green eyes big and sad. So that’s where Johanna got it. He was just so impossible to resist, but if you didn’t go to bed now, you’d be exhausted before dinner even started. You draped your arms around his neck. “I’ll tell you what; how about we get a good night’s sleep tonight…” you pulled him close and whispered into his ear, “and I’ll give you something to be really thankful for tomorrow.” 

Dean’s eyes widened and his smirk spread into a smile. 

“Mrs. Winchester, we have a deal.” He loved the way that sounded coming from his lips. Mrs. Winchester. 

You gave him a long and passionate goodnight kiss before changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed. 

It must have been around 12:30 when the baby started crying. The baby monitor was on your nightstand, so you were awakened by the sound first. Dean moved to get up, but you stopped him. 

“I’ll get her.” You sleepily shuffled out of the bedroom. Reaching the hall, you muttered something that your half-asleep husband only half comprehended. Something about the electricity acting up again. 

The crying continued and you didn’t return. Dean yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes and got out of bed. He slowly made his way down the hallway to the nursery. The door was ajar and the lamp had been turned on. You must have gone downstairs to get her a bottle. 

Dean picked up his crying daughter, rocking her soothingly in his arms. She wailed and wailed until she heard his voice. 

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. Daddy’s got you.” He hushed. After a moment of rocking and soft whispers, Ellie started to settle down. As soon as her cries reduced to the occasional sniff, Dean set her back in her cradle. “That’s it. You’re going to be just fine. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.” 

Smiling down at his beautiful baby girl, Dean felt something on the back of his neck. When he touched it, his hand came away red. He froze, and as if his body went into auto pilot, he turned around. At first he couldn’t scream. He just stared. 

Your mouth gaped at him, your eyes filled with terror and pain as the blood spread out from your stomach. Ellie started to cry again. 

“No!” Dean screamed. That’s when the fire started. 

And that’s when he woke up.

-

And be a simple kind of man

Oh, be something you love and understand

Dean sat straight up, sweat soaking through his t-shirt, his scream still on his lips. The cool air of the bunker made him shiver. He couldn’t breathe. He heaved and coughed as if the smoke really filled his lungs. A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump out of the bed and flatten himself against the wall, holding out his fists to fight. 

“Dean?” You rose slowly, walking towards him cautiously. “It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.” 

He just stared at you, taking in every feature. You watched his eyes fill with tears and his chin tremble as he tried to speak. Nothing came out, just a strangled sounding cry. Dean fell to his knees and you rushed to hold him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a nightmare. 

Dean wrapped his arms around your middle and leaned his head against your stomach as you soothingly ran your fingers through his hair. He didn’t make any sound as he cried, but the tears fell endlessly down his face. He was shaking in your arms. 

“Dean, honey, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” You whispered. This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken suddenly from a dream, but it had never been like this. 

You told him that you were pregnant today. He seemed happy. Shocked, but happy. But now? Whatever was going through his head was breaking him. You sunk down in front of him so you could hold him fully, letting him cry into your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally choked out. “I’m sorry that this is all I can give you. I’m sorry that we don’t have a big house full of kids. That Sam has lost any chance at happiness. That we can never have a normal life.” You pushed back. 

“Baby, what are you talking about?” 

“I’m sorry that this baby is going to grow up haunted and broken… just like me.” His voice cracked. You put a hand on his cheek. 

“Dean…” You pressed your forehead against his, feeling your own tears start to fall. “This baby is going to be loved and wanted and cherished, just like you.” You kissed him gently, reminding him of your adoration of this hero of a man. 

Dean held you closer, letting your words sink into his heart. He wanted to believe it. He wanted more than anything to believe it. Even in his beautiful dream, you ended up burned and bloody. Even in his dream, he was broken. 

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He would try like hell to give you a life as close to perfect as he could manage. Maybe that meant hunting together until you went down guns blazing. Maybe that meant settling down, someday, somewhere. He would try. 

Baby be a simple kind of man

Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can

-

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