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batboysanonymous · 4 months ago

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A Taste of Silence (Pt. II)

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhys's drunken words cut deeper than any blade, leaving Y/n questioning everything she thought she knew about their bond. As heartbreak and betrayal collide, she faces a choice that could shatter the fragile threads holding their world together.

Pt. I

Rhysand was drowning.

He had endured centuries of torment in Amarantha’s Court, faced death and destruction in ways that would have broken lesser males—but this? This was agony unlike anything he had ever known.

Because this wasn’t just losing her. This was being the cause of her pain.

The bond was still there, a heavy, throbbing weight tethered to his soul. It twisted and pulled at him, refusing to let him forget the raw betrayal in her eyes when she left. He couldn’t block it out. Couldn’t shut down the waves of anger and hurt radiating from her, nor the faint echo of her presence that haunted his every step.

He didn’t deserve to forget.

He followed her from a distance, staying just out of sight, knowing he had no right to approach her. She had retreated to a small, snow-laden village on the outskirts of his territory, a place so quiet and unassuming it seemed designed to swallow grief whole. Rhys respected her boundaries—at least, as much as he could while still ensuring she was safe.

The villagers had no idea their little haven was now fiercely guarded by shadows. Every night, he patrolled the perimeter, silent as death, ensuring no threat could come close. When a pack of feral beasts wandered too near, Rhys killed them before they could even scent the village. He cleaned up the blood and left no trace, unwilling to let her see the lengths he was going to for her protection.

She might hate him, but she was still his mate. And he would protect her, even if it tore him apart.

But even the small things he could do weren’t enough. Not when every second without her was a reminder of the chasm he’d created between them. The cold, empty nights stretched endlessly, the silence gnawing at his mind until he thought he might go mad.

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The third week after her departure, he broke.

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t intrude, and wouldn't push her until she was ready. But the bond burned unbearably that day, tugging at him with a force that felt like claws raking through his chest. He flew to her cabin before he could stop himself, landing with a muffled thud on the snow-packed ground.

She was outside, stacking firewood with her back to him. She froze when his boots crunched against the snow.

“Don’t,” she said without turning, her voice cold enough to make him falter.

“Please,” Rhys choked out, his voice hoarse.

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t think—he just dropped to his knees. The snow soaked through his leathers, numbing his skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

“Please,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “Please, just listen to me. I—” His throat closed up, the words catching on the lump that had lodged itself there since the moment she left. He dragged a trembling hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his desperation. “I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I—Cauldron, I can’t live like this. I can’t live without you.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.

“You are everything to me,” he said, his voice raw. “Everything. And I hate myself for what I did, for the way I made you feel. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right, if you’ll let me. But if you can’t…” He swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. “If you can’t, I’ll still do it. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy, even if it’s from afar. I don’t care what it costs me, as long as you’re okay.”

“How can I trust that the next time you’re drunk or angry, you won’t say something that cuts me to the bone?”

Her words hit like a dagger, sharp and precise. He bowed his head, his voice trembling as he replied, “I don’t deserve your trust, not after what I said. But I swear to you, I will never drink if it means risking your pain. I’ll stop entirely if you ask me to. Nothing—nothing—is worth losing you again.”

Her arms crossed, her shields firmly in place, though he caught the faintest waver in her expression. “And what happens the next time we fight, Rhys? What if you get angry? Will you throw my weaknesses in my face again?”

His head snapped up, anguish written across his features. “Never. I would never—” His voice broke. “You are not my weakness. You are my strength. And if I ever forget that, I want you to walk away and never look back. But I swear to you, Y/N, I will spend every day of my life proving to you that I’ve learned from this. That I will never, ever make you feel like that again.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. He could feel her battling herself, the bond between them a swirling tempest of doubt and yearning.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he whispered, his knees sinking deeper into the snow. “I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your trust if I have to. Just tell me how to begin.”

The silence stretched taut between them, and Rhys didn’t dare move. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but edged with steel. “Prove it.”

Her shields weren’t just up—they were fortified. But he didn’t need to feel the bond to see the war raging within her.

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The days that followed were a slow, painful process. Rhys didn’t push. He stayed near enough to be there if she needed him but far enough to give her space. He continued his quiet watch over the village, eliminating threats before she ever knew they existed. He left her gifts—small things he hoped might bring her comfort. A new brush when he saw her old one had broken. A scarf enchanted to keep her warm even in the bitterest winds. And a note with every gift: I’m still here. I always will be.

She started letting him stay for longer each time he visited. They didn’t talk much at first—just sat in heavy, charged silence. But gradually, the walls began to crack. She started asking him questions, small and tentative, and he answered with an honesty that left him vulnerable and bare.

The night she finally forgave him, it was snowing.

They were sitting by the fire, the soft glow casting flickering shadows across the room. Rhys’s voice was low and steady as he recounted the years he’d spent under the mountain. The rawness of the memories was evident in the way his hands clenched and unclenched, but he forced himself to speak, each word a step toward atonement.

Y/N sat across from him, silent, her gaze fixed on the flames. Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater, the movement restless and uncertain.

“You didn’t just hurt me,” she said at last, her voice trembling. “You betrayed me, Rhys. You made me feel small, like I didn’t matter.”

The words tore through him, but he didn’t flinch. He nodded, his throat tightening. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel that way again.”

She looked at him then, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “How can I trust you not to run your mouth again? To not let some drink or situation make you careless with me?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, shame crashing over him. “You can’t—not yet. But I’ll prove to you that you can. I’ll prove it every single day, Y/N.” His voice cracked, his chest heaving as he lowered himself to his knees before her.

“Please,” he begged, his hands trembling as he clasped hers. “Please, give me a chance to earn back your trust. I’ll never take another sip of wine if that’s what it takes. I’ll never let myself forget the weight of what I have to lose. You are everything to me.”

Her lip trembled as she stared at him, the rawness in his expression and the desperation in his voice cutting through her defenses. “I’m terrified, Rhys. Of trusting you again. Of getting hurt again.”

His thumbs brushed over her knuckles as he held her hands tightly, his head bowing. “I know. And if I ever break your trust again, I’ll deserve every ounce of that fear. I’ll deserve to lose you. But I won’t. I swear to you, Y/N, I won’t.”

The bond between them hummed faintly, like a whisper of what it once was, and it pulled at her even as she hesitated. She reached out, cupping his face with trembling fingers.

“You have one chance, Rhys,” she whispered, her voice heavy with both hope and caution. “One.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, pressing her palm to his lips. “I won’t waste it. I swear to you, I’ll never waste it.”

When she finally leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he could shield her from every hurt in the world—including himself. The bond sang louder, fuller, and in that moment, they began to mend what had been broken, piece by fragile piece.

Taglist: @willowpains, @fanficscuziranout, @lilah-asteria, @lreadsstuff, @flintthegoodboyo, @saltedcoffeescotch

Want to join my tag list? Drop a comment or check out this link to submit a specific series you would like tagged in! (Or if you just don't want to comment, that's okay too)

#acotarxreader #angst #batboys x reader #slow burn #tension #acotar #night court #x reader #rhysandxreader #rhys acotar #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #high lord of the night court #light angst

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zomb-rabbit · 1 year ago

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Rabbit

Rabbit I'm begging you to do stalker headcanons with Mh or EMH guys (you don't gotta ofc! But w o ah)

🐟

AAAA IM SO HAPPY U LIKED THEM !!!! I WAS RLLY HAPPY W HOW THE TOBY ONES CAME OUT :)))) also,,,, watch me hit u w ALL the guys !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (nsfw can come later if u wish fishy, i skipped it cus this is alr a super long post BFJSJFNJS) (also i got to use my rainbow dividers i have saved up cus there's so many ppl YAYYYYYYY)

[📹⛓️‍💥🚬👁️☠️🐇]

Stalker!Brian Thomas / Hoodie / Tim Wright / Masky / Evan Myers / HABIT x gn!reader headcanons :)

Brian ;

ok we know Brian likes to record

so expect there to be at least one camera on you a majority of the time

sometimes he'll leave it in a tree or placed just right behind a fence post, zoomed in on your bedroom window so he can document you and your routine even when he's busy

he's so thoughtful 😸😸😸

definitely the type to perfectly curate a "meet-cute" for the both of you, writing down the coffee place you stop off at on mondays for a pick-me-up, the stores you go to that have your favorite brand of something, he calculates his every action with you long before it's happened.

he knows what he's doing is wrong, but unlike Toby, he's not exactly ashamed of it. if anything he likes the added excitement that you could still find him out

this is one of the times him and Hoodie kind of blur together a little bit, both in morals and actions

Brian is fully willing to do whatever it takes to keep eyes on you and to keep you under his thumb and his alone; it doesn't matter who gets in his way

Hoodie ;

also a big fan of recording, but tends to get much more risky with it

likes the feeling that you might catch a little camera that's nestled in between some trinkets and books or a pile of blankets you keep on your couch

he is a creepy creeper . he wants to watch EVERYTHING

gets his feelings hurt when you close your curtains cus you feel eyes on you (you're right, but still :(()

it takes a lot to deter him from doing everything in his power to keep watch over you

he's not even sure of his own motives, really. sure, he wants to keep you safe and make sure no one else is watching you, but most of the time he's just there to watch.

you're like a doll to him, something to entertain him.

Masky ;

this isn't even part of this i just wanna say the vibe for stalker Masky (and just him in general tbh) for me feels a lot like the intro to My Meds Aren't Working by Dystopia . very slow, calculating, stuck in your own head but still zeroed in on one thing

and it's you ofc !!!!

i think Masky is one of the more scarier guys to have stalking you on this lineup honestly. hot? yes absolutely. terrifying to see constantly out of the corner of your eye, sitting at the bus stop outside your job, standing in the parking lot of the gas station by your apartment complex and staring up into your window? YES VERY

he's haunting. he doesn't go up to you, will go completely brick wall at you if you try to come up to him, and you can never tell what emotion is going on behind his eyes. the few times you've walked closer to him, likely on the street in the earlier stages, he looked hungry. like he was waiting and watching for your guard to be down to do something.

if he knows you'll be out, he'll get into your house to steal some of your clothes- likely your underwear (creepy crawler) and a sleep shirt

you will never see him without the mask on. point blank. not to smoke, eat, anything. he is not human or himself when he's around you; he needs to absorb everything about you.

i don't think of him to be the type to film you, would rather be there in person 24/7. it feels more personal to him.

Tim ;

one of the few guys that feels guilt about what he's doing- he knows how scary it is to feel watched all the time. how awful it is to find out you were right.

he’s embarrassed of himself; he’s prided himself on being stoic and independent for so long that this sudden urge to love you and watch you and know you gives him waves of shame

watches from afar, would definitely try and avoid letting himself get too close to you in person. he’s ashamed of it, but he can’t help himself- he needs you, even if at a distance.

steals clothes you’ve slept in so he can try and satiate his yearning to be close to you without actually needing to be so vulnerable, with you or anyone

his near dependency on you reminds me of It Will Come Back by Hozier, his obsession is fed by breadcrumbs from the few in-person up close encounters he’s had with you. smiles when he comes into where you work, nervous little waves when you catch him looking at you at the store, soft 'excuse me!'s when you pass by him

you drive him up a wall (lovingly)

Evan ;

Evan feels guilty, but for the ‘wrong’ reasons

i say ‘wrong’ because he’s more concerned with you inevitable introduction to the whole Habit mess, not with the morals of stalking and obsessing over you

despite his guilt, he can’t get enough of you. his persistence rivals Brian's; it’s almost immediate that he tries to get you with him

latches onto you for fear of you leaving- honestly less of a stalker and more on the obsessive side. not good at keeping his hands to himself.

you might be one of the only cases where he tries to bargain and/or work with Habit, in an attempt to keep you safe or keep you near him out of desperation if you're not listening to him when he tries to convince you to stay with him essentially 25/8

touchy obsessive little critter . give him what he wants before he goes sicko mode (being 10 feet away from you at all times)

Habit ;

does not hide himself AT ALL

will actively be letting you know he's watching

seeing him behind you in mirrors, rabbit motifs everywhere, a random blood splatter in plain sight that no one else seems to see.

he watches, he knows, and he learns

what things make you the most paranoid, all the ways he can slowly introduce himself in a more. friendly light to get you to trust him. to love him.

he's what's best for you, whether you like it or not. it just might take some time for you to get there

ironically for him, think 'The Best Is Yet To Come' by Frank Sinatra. it's just a matter of time before things get so much better. for the both of you, of course!

#guys can you tell i love me some creepy crawler masky #🐟#brian thomas x reader #hoodie x reader #tim wright x reader #masky x reader #evan myers x reader #habit emh x reader #emh habit x reader #marble hornets x reader #everymanhybrid x reader #rabbit writings

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hearts4golbach · 11 months ago

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Maybe You're Right.

request from wattpad:

tara introduces the reader to jake, and the size difference is kind of like how it was when tara and jake were dating, so it's HEAVY on the size difference and ends up in sshmuttt.

pairing:

Jake Webber x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

size kink, heavy smuttt, just general filth, 18++++!!

"Tara, you dragged me out of bed this morning, told me to dress slutty, left the house, came back with alcohol, and now were pregaming for I don't even know what in the back of an uber." You laughed, passing the bottle of Pink Whitney back to Tara. "For the love of God, just tell me where we're going!"

Tara winced at the burn of the alcohol in her throat. "Okay, fine! I thought it was obvious."

"unless you're taking me to a whore house, then clearly not." you rolled your eyes. you began to mentally prepare yourself for another shot.

"were going to a party!" she gently pushed your arm.

you groaned. "Tar, you know I don't like parties."

"I know, I know. but, this is a more secluded one. there's this cute guy I really want you to meet!"

"I mean, I'm already here." you shrugged. "also, what about this cute guy? my anti-social ass would not be able to hit it off with a guy, especially at a party."

"he is, too! even if you guys don't hit it off, it's still worth a shot." she put the cap on the bottle and unbuckled as we approached a house.

"right." you replied, only half sarcastically.

"it's not as scary or hard as it sounds. you two have a lot in common." Tara flashed a cheeky smile. "like I said, he's cuuute!"

"i guess we'll see. what's his name?" you reached down to adjust your shoe.

while Tara wore these high heeled boots, you threw on a cute pair of white flats you had laying around. this made the height difference between you and Tara dramatic (even though you were roughly the same height.)

you climbed out of the back seat, thanking the bus driver before meeting Tara on the other side of the car.

she interlocked her arm with yours. "ready?"

"no!" you squeeled. "at least tell me his name."

"you'll figure it out, come on!" she dragged you up to the front door.

whenever you walked in, you were caught off guard whenever it wasn't the stereotypical party; strong smell of alcohol, loud music, flashing lights. there was music playing, but not too loud and not too quiet. the house smelled nice, most likely freshly cleaned. there was a wide variety of alcohol in the kitchen, though.

"lead me to this quote unquote cute guy." you instructed, looking around at all of the people. there were some people you knew or recognized. you made a mental note to try and say hi later.

Tara dragged you into the dining room as she looked around the room. she smiled as her eyes landed on someone. you tried to follow her gaze, but you were swept away by her dragging you towards him.

by the back door stood a group of 3 guys. they were all chatting within their group. the tallest one had cherry red hair that reached down to his shoulders. Mr. cherry bomb noticed Tara and waved. his eyes landed on you before turning back to Tara.

"Jake! I want you to meet someone." she dragged you up so you were standing beside her. "Jake, this is y/n. y/n, Jake."

he stuck out his hand. it enveloped your hand whenever you stuck yours out as well. you had to look up just to make eye contact with him. "nice to meet you, y/n. ive heard a lot about you."

"you, aswell." you gave him a soft smile.

he stepped off to the side, letting your hand linger in his. "what brings you 'round these parts?" he asked in a southern accent.

you giggled. "I was kidnapped and brought here by our beloved Tara."

"ah." he smacked his lips.

"You've heard a lot about me? good things, I hope." your eyes trailed down his body, admiring all of the visible tattoos. they were very colorful and interesting. it made you want to know all of the stories behind them.

he smirked whenever he saw your eyes wandering. this snapped you back to reality. "yes, of course. only good things." he said sincerely. "not a fan of parties?"

he leaned against the wall, awaiting your response. "more or less. I don't really go out of my way, I guess."

"I hope this one is," he paused, thinking of a decent word to finish his sentence. "Exciting? I don't know. I hope my and johnnies party can change your perception of parties for you."

you shrugged, shooting him a wink. you mentally cringed at yourself. "maybe. I guess we'll see."

"can I get you anything to drink? we have a lot of alcohol, for some reason." he lead you back into the kitchen.

you glanced back at Tara, who was already looking at you and shot you a wink. you flashed her a soft smile before turning back around and catching up to jake. "I'll just take a cherry white claw."

"good choice." Jake commented. he took one out of the box and tossed it towards you. "do you have a boyfriend?"

you hummed. "no. I had one a few months back."

he made a sound of acknowledgment before taking a sip of whatever was already in his cup.

"why do you ask?" you cracked open your seltzer.

"I think you're really pretty, y/n. and sweet, too." he smiled. "sorry if that's weird, im really fucking bad at compliments."

you giggled. "that wasn't weird. I really appreciate it." you leaned a little closer to his face. "I think you're pretty cute, too." you commented with a smile on your face.

"hmm, thank you." he seemed to be thinking before crushing his cup and tossing it in the trash.

"so, is this your house?" the alcohol seemed to be getting to your head. you took a step closer to Jake.

he immediately caught on to your moves and took a step closer himself. "yeah. me, johnnie, and carrington."

you hummed, straining your neck to look up at him. he casually reached towards you, tucking a hair behind your ear. "really? it's really nice."

"thank you, pretty girl." he smiled, sending shivers down your spine.

"you know, it's pretty crowded. why don't we go somewhere else?" you wanted to make your intentions obvious. the kitchen was empty, and you were eyeing jake like you were starving and he was your last meal.

he looked around. "I think you're right." he took your hand and led you upstairs, which was completely empty.

whenever you made it to his room, he shut and locked the door. his hands met your waist. "is this okay?"

you hummed, "more than okay."

he smirked and hooked his hands under your thighs. he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his torso. "is it crazy how we just met and I think im already obsessed with you?"

"is it crazy I feel the same way?" he grinned at your response before pressing his lips against yours.

he pinned you against the bedroom door. his lips glided with yours at the perfect pace. his lips tasted sweet, like spearmint gum and alcohol. his soft lips were addicting. you couldn't get close enough to him. you couldn't even get enough of him.

his tongue swiped your bottom lip, begging for entrance. you parted your lips and let him in. your tongues danced together. he pressed you further up the wall, letting one hand trail over the silk of your dress. he slowly unzipped it, taking his time. you clawed at the rim of his shirt, begging him nonverbally to take it off.

he walked you over to the bed and laid you down. he tapped your hips, asking you to lift them up so he can slip off your dress. you followed his instructions, leading you to be left in your bra and panties. you reached up and stripped his shirt off of him, revealing his toned abdomen.

you traced the lunes of his tattoos as he began to unbuckle his pants. he stood towering over you in his boxers.

he leaned down, pecking your lips and crawling on top of you. he leaned down and bit your earlobe. "You're okay with this, right?"

"yes, jake, fuck. please, fuck me." you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back towards yours.

he kissed the corner of your lips and trailed down to your neck, sucking dark hickeys into your soft skin. you shuddered as his smooth lips sucked on your skin. he kissed down your chest and stomach, finding his way to the rim of your underwear. he gripped the lace with his teeth and dragged them down, assisting with his hand. you were soaked, and a string of your juices was on your panties.

"fuck, I'm going to ruin you." jake smirked as he licked a stripe up your pussy. his tongue flicked your folds. he moaned at the taste of you. "you taste amazing." he complimented with a tiny giggle.

he held your hips down, stopping you as you tried to buck up into his face. he sucked your clit, pulling away with a pop as he stood back up.

you helped him pull his underwear down. his cock sprung out of his boxers, his tip hitting his lower stomach. "fuck, jake. you're so big."

you collected the precum off of his tip, using it as lube to slowly stroke his cock. Jake bit his lip as he stared down at you. your eyes flicked up to him as you shot him a sweet smile.

his hand stroked your cheek. "you can take it, right pretty girl?"

you nodded eagerly as you bit your lip.

he pushed you back on the bed and spread your legs. he was so soft yet so rough at the same time. he aligned his cock at your entrance before slowly thrusting inside of you.

you moaned loudly, clapping your hand over your mouth.

"you need a sec to adjust?" he cooed, rubbing your hip. you nodded. "That's okay, love." he smirked, "told you, I'm going to ruin you."

"oh, fuck. please, you can go." he kept his thrusts slow at first, making you moan. his cock wasn't fully inside of you yet as he held a steady yet slow pace.

"shit, i can feel my cock stretching you. taking me so well." he gripped your hips.

he bottomed out, pushing his cock all the way inside of you. you felt his cock aching for release as your walls clenched around him tight. you nearly screamed, your moan sounding raspy as he did.

"You sound so pretty," he sped up his thrusts, "keep making those sounds for me, babe. let the whole party hear you."

"fuck, jake! fuckfuckfuck-" you moaned out. a string of curses slipped out of your mouth.

"shit, you can take it." he stuttered as he fucked you harder. he hit your g-spot, making you scream his name.

"faster, please, baby." you choked out in between moans. "fuck, you're so- so big."

he smirked, "yeah? I'm sure you love it."

you nodded eagerly. "yes. fuck yes!" you arched your back off of the bed. "jake. I'm so close!"

"cum on my dick, pretty girl." he grunted. his cock sounded inside of you at a relentless pace.

"fucking hell," you moaned as your walls spammed around Jake's hard memeber. you came on his dick, your whole body going limp as you breathed heavy. you laid back on the bed, your whole body relaxing as you began to catch your breath.

he pulled out and came on your stomach. he moaned out your name as he came, his hand pinned on either side of your head.

jake collapsed on the bed next to you. he wrapped his arm around your waist. he was breathing heavily himself. he took a deep breath before sitting back up.

"Let me clean you up." he tossed on a shirt and a clean pair of pajama pants. he tossed one of his shirts to you. "Do you need anything? water or.."

"No, I'm okay," you threw on his shirt. "Just hurry back to bed." you smiled, an extremely cock drunk smile.

he nodded, "will do."

he came back moments later with a wet wash cloth. he kneeled down in front of the bed, cleaning his cum off your lower stomach and your sensitive cunt. once you were all cleaned up, he gave you a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in.

he hummed, "I think we should go on a date some time."

you hummed back. "I think you're right."

he took his shirt back off and laid next to you. you laid your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. the two of you fell asleep peacefully in eachothers arms almost immediately.

'I think you were right.' You texted Tara along with a picture of you lying on Jake's chest.

she responded two minutes later. 'told you so'

#fanfiction #fanfic #jake and johnnie #jake webber smut #jake webber x reader #jake webber #jake webber x y/n #jake webber x you #heavy smut #hearts4golbach #tara yummy

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lillyspeakz · 6 months ago

Note

was gonna ask this anonymously but fuck it. brain rot 🤷🏻‍♀️

thoughts on wilbur fucking you in his tour bus bunk late at night? you both cant sleep and theres so little space. hes trying to keep you quiet, hand over your mouth and whispering filthy things in your ear. hes either fucking you with his fingers or... hes fucking you with his cock while the bus is rocking slightly...

all i can think about is him saying something along the lines of "keep quiet darling, wouldn't want to wake anyone with your sweet sounds now would we?"

FUCKK

Omfg- I think I wrote something like this before but fuck this is a beautiful thought-

Also I love his hands too much- but if people like this one I will do the other one too ;)

tw: wils possessive but- fingering, HANDS, praise, degradation, choking, fingers down throat, ummmmm, let’s just say you love his fingers as well :) (I’m exposing myself with this one! ) AFTERCAREEEEEEEE

“Fuck- you’re so wet baby. Been thinkin’ about me I see.” Wilbur smirked as he eased his fingers inside you, words slurred from the tired creeping over him as he started to kiss and suck at your neck. His thumb reached up to rub at your clit, slow and easy, as is fingers slowly curled up into you, a muffled squelching noise following after each one.

The actions were slow and steady for a while, hands gripping at his hair and the other holding onto his arm, grinding yourself on his hand. You bit your lip as hard as you could, practically drawing blood as you held back moans and whines for centuries.

“So good for me baby, always take me so well. Once we’re off this fucking bus, I’ll fuck you whenever you’d like, ruin you like I always do. Know you fucking love that-“ Wilbur’s words were harsh as he looked up at you, making a show of what he was doing to you and the effect he knew he had. You whimpered slightly as Wilbur came up and placed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss, sucking and pulling at your bottom lip, tongue pushing its way through to tangle with yours.

Soon enough, Wilbur got bored of the slow, sweet pace. He pulled his fingers out and started fucking you fast, thumb pressed down on your clit and rubbing it as he moved. The speed change and the stimulation caught you off guard, making you break the kiss and gasp out- but your moan got cut off by a hand tightly covering your mouth.

“Be quiet darling- don’t want to wake any of the boys with your sweet, beautiful noises yeah? That’s only for me.” Wil hissed out the last part, possessiveness coating his sweet words as he started to fuck his fingers back into you, hitting the places he knew made you see stars.

Your arousal dripped down his fingers and onto his hand as he watched you fall apart. Moans and whines being muffled from his strong hand, eyes burning into yours as he smirked down at you with so much power it was scary. Yet you loved it. You grabbed at his wrist that held the hand on your mouth, pulling it away slightly and maneuvering his fingers down your throat, humming against them as they fit perfectly in it.

“Oh you fucking slut. Like my fingers that much huh? Like when I gag you? Let me push in a little-“ he slide his fingers further down, making you gag around the digits, spit falling out from your mouth as you got used to the further intrusion. “More. Fucking look at you. Only for me to use, to see, to ruin. No one fucking else, and if they ever get the opportunity, they better be damn thankful.” Wilbur growled once more as his fingers picked up pace, reaching his fingers deeper, hitting your cervix over and over again, fucking you dumb on his fingers.

Spit ran down the sides of your mouth as your eyes rolled back into your head, the movement of his fingers and his words that were so dirty, being whispered like a love letter. You’re grip on his wrist tightened, nails creating crescent moons on his skin as your hips bucked and grinded against his hand.

You’re eyes looked up into his pleasure filled ones, reeling at how dirty this was, fucking you with his calloused fingers and scar ridden hands, his other hand absorbing all your sounds as he whispered little things to you, making sure no one heard any of you.

“Come on baby, cum for me. I know you want to- know you want to be loud for me, want to make a big mess on my hands, let the boys know who fucks you so good every night, fucks your attitude straight when your being a brat. Come on baby, let them know..” Wilbur took his fingers from your throat and wrapped his hand back around your neck, placing pressure on the outsides so you could still breath.

Your mouth fell open at his ongoing words, praising you at how good you were and demanding you to make noises for him, to show him how good you are. You knew he was only saying it for the hell of it, but you needed too.

“Fuck- Wil-“ your sentence was cut short as Wilbur placed his lips on yours, sucking all the noises out of your throat and down his own, the kiss sloppy and rushed. Your moans and whines being muffled by the mans lips and own groans as he felt you clench around his fingers tightly, your arousal and orgasm filling his senses and coating his hand.

The kiss turned soft and sweet as your body went limp in his hold, his fingers slowly leaving you as you whined at the soft drag and sudden emptiness. Wilbur broke the kiss as he cooed at you, placing soft kisses on your cheek and the spots on your neck he once squeezed tightly, soothing them with his soft lips so the redness would hopefully go down. His hand that was once around your neck now rubbed gentle strokes on your cheek as your breath fell back into rhythm and your hand fell into his hair, rubbing his scalp as his head fell into your chest.

“So good. Always good for me baby.” Wilbur whispered out to you, as he looked up at you with a smile. Smiling back, your eyelids half open as sleep washed over you, letting out a yawn as Wilbur giggled at you.

Bringing his hand up to his mouth, he placed his fingers that were once inside you on his tongue, groaning at the taste as you let out a whine, embarrassed by his actions. His laugh brought you back, looking up at him as he let his fingers go with a pop.

“Hmm that was a good preview…. Can I have more?” The man joked as you shoved his shoulders back away from you, a smile on your face as you told him to shut up, another yawn breaking through as Wilbur started to get out of the bunk. “Ok, come on. Bathroom, water, then sleep, promise.” Wilbur held his hand out to you, your smaller one graciously taking it, letting him drag you to the small room that had toilet and a sink.

After what seemed like forever, the silence being comfortable and nice in the moment, the soft rocking of the bus making you dose off on the toilet slightly, you both finally had your way out. Wilbur shut the light out and grabbed your hand, yet as you went to leave, a loud snore broke through the room next to you.

Turning around, you both saw Joe sprawled out on the big mattress on the back of the bus blankets askew and pillows pushed off. Giggling at the scene in front of you, you grabbed Wil’s phone from his pocket, taking a quick picture of the man with Wilbur’s encouragement.

“You bet your ass we’re getting that bed tomorrow..then I can actually show you how much you mean to me-“

“Wilbur-“

“Can you blame me?! I’m a deprived man, baby! I need something-“

#lilly answerz.#kyliegh.#wilbur gold x reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #x reader #dsmp wilbur #idk what else #lilly writez.

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lila-lou · 7 months ago

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✨Taking her in - Pt. 6✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language, angst

Word Count: 7003

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

Your heart clenched at the sudden rejection, the abrupt shift in Dean’s demeanor cutting through the haze of desire that had enveloped you both. The intensity of the kiss, the way your body had responded to his, it had all felt so right in the moment—so overwhelming and consuming. But now, with Dean pulling back, it was as if the rug had been yanked out from under you, leaving you feeling exposed and uncertain.

Even though you felt like jelly, your head light and your heart racing, you tried to mask the hurt. You swallowed hard, forcing down the emotions that threatened to spill over. “And?”, you asked quietly, doing your best to sound nonchalant, as if you weren’t waiting on tenterhooks for his feedback, as if you weren’t terrified of what he might say next.

Dean took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Your nonchalant tone caught him off guard. He cleared his throat, shifting slightly on the bed to put a bit more distance between you, needing space to clear his head and regain control of the situation.

He hesitated, searching for the right words, knowing that what he said next could either ease your worries or make things even more complicated. “You’re… you’re good, (Y/N)”, he finally said, his voice softer, trying to sound reassuring. But even as the words left his mouth, he knew they didn’t fully convey the complexity of what he was feeling. Yes, he had felt your inexperience, but that was far from what mattered to him in that moment. What mattered was the connection you had shared, the emotions that had been laid bare in that kiss.

But he couldn’t say that—not without risking everything.

As he spoke, Dean couldn’t help but shift slightly, trying to discreetly adjust his jeans. The kiss had left him more affected than he wanted to admit, and he could feel the uncomfortable tightness that had developed. He did his best to hide it from you, knowing that the last thing you needed was to see just how much that kiss had impacted him physically.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to dispel the tension in the air. “Look, it’s… it’s normal to feel a little unsure”, he said, his tone awkward but earnest. “But trust me, you’re doing just fine. You don’t have anything to worry about”.

Dean gave you a small, tight smile, hoping to put you at ease, but the truth was, he was struggling just as much as you were. The emotions stirred by that kiss were still swirling inside him, making it hard to think straight, to keep up the facade of being the calm, collected older brother figure you’d always seen him as.

But even as he tried to reassure you, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had crossed a line—one that couldn’t be uncrossed. And as much as he wanted to make things right, to go back to the way things were before, he knew deep down that something had changed between you, and there was no going back.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts, the reality of the situation hitting him hard. He couldn’t believe he’d let it get this far. You were sitting there, skin flushed, breath still a little uneven, and he could see the uncertainty in your eyes—the same uncertainty he felt gnawing at his gut.

Running a hand through his hair and then over his beard, he tried to figure out how to handle this without making things worse. The kiss had been a mistake, he knew that now more than ever, but the last thing he wanted was to make you feel bad about it. He had always prided himself on being the one who looked out for you, the one who made sure you were safe and protected. And now, he felt like he had let you down in the worst way.

Raising a finger, he pointed at you, his voice firm but not unkind. “No word to anyone, alright?”, he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “This… this stays between us”.

You nodded, your cheeks still flushed, and your eyes wide with a mix of lingering desire and confusion. You had never seen Dean like this before—so vulnerable, so conflicted.

Dean muttered something under his breath, a combination of frustration and desperation, as he pushed himself up from the bed. The tension in the room was unbearable, and he knew he needed to get out of there, to put some distance between himself and the situation before he did something he couldn’t take back.

“I need a drink”, he muttered, his voice rough, more to himself than to you. He turned away, making his way toward the door, but not before discreetly adjusting his jeans to relieve the discomfort caused by his still-present arousal. His back was to you as he did so, sparing you the sight, but it was another painful reminder of how close he had come to completely losing control.

You watched him go, your emotions a tangled mess of confusion, desire, and shame. You could still feel the warmth of his lips against yours, the way his hands had held you so carefully, so reverently.

As Dean disappeared from sight, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone in the quiet room. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on you, but there was something else too—something that made your heart race and your skin tingle with the remnants of what you had just experienced.

Your fingers slowly reached up to touch your lips, the very same lips that had just been kissed for the first time. It was surreal, almost too much to process all at once. Your first kiss—and it had been with Dean. It had been everything you had imagined and more, filled with a warmth and intensity that you hadn’t expected. The way his lips had moved against yours, the way he had held you, it had felt so right in the moment, so undeniably good.

Your skin still tingled with the memory of his touch, a soft, lingering sensation that refused to fade. Every nerve in your body felt alive, buzzing with an energy that made it hard to sit still. You could feel the heat in your cheeks, the rush of emotions that made your thoughts whirl in chaotic circles. There was confusion, yes, and a hint of shame at how much you had enjoyed it, but there was also something else—a thrill that ran through you at the thought that it had been Dean, of all people, who had given you that moment.

You couldn’t deny the feelings that were swirling inside you, feelings that you had tried to suppress for so long but had come rushing to the surface the moment his lips had touched yours. There was a part of you that knew this could complicate everything, that things might never be the same between you and Dean, but another part of you couldn’t help but hold on to the way it had felt, the way he had made you feel.

Sitting there, alone in the room, you couldn’t stop the small, secret smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

This kiss, this moment—it was something you would hold on to, no matter what happened next.

After a while, you finally managed to steady your breathing and gather your thoughts. You knew you couldn’t stay in that room forever, lost in your own head.

With a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, you got up and made your way to the library, where you knew Dean had gone to nurse his drink. As you approached, you saw him standing by one of the tall bookshelves, a full glass of whiskey in his hand. His posture was tense, and the lines of his face were drawn tight, as if he was still wrestling with the emotions of what had just transpired.

When he saw you walking toward him, he brushed his hand through his hair, his eyes reflecting a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something deeper that he couldn’t quite hide. You could tell he was still grappling with what had happened, just as you were, and you wanted to say something to ease the tension, to play it all down.

But before you could get a word out, Dean held up one hand, stopping you in your tracks. He took another sip of his whiskey, as if he needed the liquid courage to face you, and then set the glass down on the table with a heavy thud. The silence between you was thick, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

“Don’t”, he said, his voice low and rough, as if the words were costing him more than he cared to admit. “Don’t say anything. Not right now”.

The plea in his tone was unmistakable.

Dean clenched his jaw, his eyes avoiding yours as he leaned heavily against the table. The weight of what had happened between you was clearly bearing down on him, and he was doing everything he could to keep his emotions in check. The whiskey wasn’t enough to dull the edge of it, and he knew that if he let this conversation continue, it might spiral out of control in a way neither of you were ready to handle.

“I told you”, he mumbled, his voice thick with tension, “this stays in my room. We’re not gonna talk about it. Not now, not ever”.

His words were harsh, but there was a vulnerability beneath them that you could sense—a desperate need to keep things from unraveling any further. He was trying to protect both of you, to keep the fragile balance you’d had from completely shattering, even if it meant pushing you away.

You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. You wanted to tell him that you understood, that you were okay with pretending it never happened if that’s what he needed, but the words were difficult to form. Finally, you managed to find your voice, though it came out softer and more tentative than you’d intended.

“I just wanted to say… I’m cool with it”, you murmured, your eyes dropping to the floor. “It doesn’t change anything, I promise”.

Dean looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust that you could both move past this without it leaving a permanent mark on your relationship. But deep down, he knew that things had already changed, whether either of you wanted to admit it or not.

He nodded stiffly, acknowledging your words without fully believing them. “Good”, he said, his tone flat. “Then let’s leave it at that”.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. Neither of you seemed to know what to say or how to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened up between you. The weight of what had happened, and more importantly, what had almost happened, hung over you both like a dark cloud.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally found the courage to break the silence. Your voice was hesitant, unsure if you were stepping into another minefield. “Are you… still going to drive me to my date tomorrow?”.

Dean’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something in them—something like regret or maybe even disappointment. But he quickly masked it, taking another sip of his whiskey as he considered your question.

“Yeah”, he replied after a moment, his tone more neutral now, but still with that edge of tension. “Yeah, I’ll drive you”.

The confirmation should have been reassuring, but instead, it left you feeling more unsettled. The way he said it, the way he avoided looking directly at you, made it clear that things were different, whether either of you wanted to admit it or not.

You nodded, offering him a small, tentative smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Dean”.

He just nodded, his attention already drifting back to his glass. The conversation was over, and it was clear he wasn’t in the mood to continue it. You hesitated for a moment longer, wanting to say something—anything—that might help, but nothing came to mind.

Instead, you turned and walked out of the library, the weight of the evening pressing heavily on your shoulders.

A week had passed since that night, and while things between you and Dean had settled somewhat, the undercurrent of tension remained. It wasn’t as sharp or unbearable as it had been immediately after the kiss, but it was still there, lingering like a ghost that neither of you could quite exorcise.

Your last date with Jake had gone well enough, but the opportunity to kiss him hadn’t come up, which left you feeling strangely relieved. Maybe it was the timing, or maybe it was the unresolved tension with Dean, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to make that move with Jake. Now, the prospect of another date loomed, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Dean, to the kiss that had left you both reeling.

Today, you and Dean were on a long drive to Helena, Montana, where you were meeting up with Sam, Jody, and her girls. After the intensity of the last, Jody had suggested a little getaway—just like family. It was meant to be a break, a chance to relax and unwind, but for Dean, the drive was proving to be anything but relaxing.

You sat next to him in the passenger seat, your legs bare in your little denim shorts. The weather was warm, and you’d dressed comfortably for the long drive, but Dean was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the road. Every time he glanced over at you, his eyes were drawn to the way your shorts rode up just slightly on your thighs, the smooth skin exposed to the sun streaming through the windows. It was torture, pure and simple.

The radio was playing softly, Metallica’s familiar riffs filling the car, and you were humming along to the music, completely oblivious to the turmoil Dean was trying so hard to keep under control. The breeze from the open window played with your hair, and every now and then, you’d glance out the window, your lips moving along with the lyrics.

Dean gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, trying to keep his eyes on the road. The fifteen-hour drive had been a test of his self-control from the start, and as the hours wore on, it was only getting harder. He had hoped that the tension between you would fade with time, that he’d be able to push it all down and get back to normal. But being this close to you, trapped in the confined space of the Impala for hours on end, was doing the exact opposite.

He cleared his throat, glancing over at you as casually as he could manage. “You doing okay over there?”, he asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

You looked over at him, smiling slightly as you nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Just enjoying the music”. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the memory of the kiss flashed between you like a spark, before you both quickly looked away.

As the conversation dipped back into silence, you suddenly felt the familiar rumble of hunger in your stomach. You glanced over at Dean, who was still staring straight ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The tension in the car was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you were determined to break it, even if just a little.

“You hungry?”, you asked, already leaning over the seat to reach into the back for the bag of snacks you had packed earlier. The movement caused your body to shift, and before you realized it, your butt was nearly at eye level with Dean.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat as his gaze involuntarily drifted to the curve of your body, so close he could almost feel the heat radiating off your skin. The shorts you were wearing left little to the imagination, and the way they hugged your hips and thighs was driving him to the edge. He clenched his jaw, forcing his eyes back on the road, but the image was seared into his mind.

You finally found the bag and straightened up, oblivious to the internal struggle Dean was fighting beside you. You opened the bag and started rummaging through it, listing off the snacks you’d brought. “I’ve got chips, some granola bars, and oh, these little pretzel bites you like”, you said, offering the bag to Dean.

He glanced over briefly, his face carefully neutral, though the effort it took was nearly Herculean. “Yeah, thanks”, he muttered, taking a pretzel bite and popping it into his mouth, more to distract himself than out of actual hunger.

As you settled back into your seat, the tension between you didn’t completely dissipate, but the simple act of sharing a snack helped ease it slightly.

“We’re gonna have to stop somewhere for the night”, Dean muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice gruff. “There’s a decent motel in Wyoming, about a couple of hours away. We can crash there, get some rest, and drive the rest of the way tomorrow”.

You nodded, grateful for the break in the silence and the subtle shift back to something normal, something that didn’t involve the unspoken tension between you. “Sounds good”, you replied, offering him a small smile. “I could use a break from sitting in this seat”.

Dean grunted in agreement, glancing over at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Yeah, me too”, he said. “We’ll find a place, grab some dinner, and call it a night”.

The plan was solid, practical, and gave him something to focus on other than the way his mind kept drifting back to thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having. The miles ticked by, and Dean did his best to keep the conversation light, sticking to safe topics like music, old hunts, and the upcoming plans with Sam, Jody, and the girls.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, you both fell into a more comfortable silence, the earlier tension easing slightly. But even as you talked and joked, there was still that undercurrent, that lingering awareness of each other that neither of you could completely shake.

When the lights of a small town came into view, Dean let out a small sigh of relief. “There’s the exit”, he said, signaling as he guided the Impala off the highway. “Shouldn’t be too much longer”.

You watched the town’s lights grow closer, a sense of anticipation building. Despite the awkwardness earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a strange excitement about spending the night in a motel with Dean. It was silly, you knew that, but the thought of it made your heart race just a little faster.

As you pulled into the parking lot of the motel, Dean parked the Impala and cut the engine. The sudden silence after the long hours of driving was almost deafening, and you both sat there for a moment, neither of you moving to get out of the car.

Dean finally cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I’ll get us checked in”, he said, his voice gruff as he grabbed his wallet from the dashboard. “You want anything from the diner across the street?”.

You nodded, grateful for the offer. “Yeah, whatever you’re getting is fine with me”.

Dean gave you a curt nod before stepping out of the impala.

As you stepped out of the Impala and stretched a few minutes later, the cool evening air felt refreshing after the long drive. Dean handed you the room key and the Impala’s keys, giving you a small nod before heading off to the diner across the street. His expression was guarded, still carrying that underlying tension, but he didn’t say anything more before he walked away.

You watched him go for a moment, then turned toward the motel room, bags in hand. The motel itself was nothing special. But tonight, it felt different, charged with a strange mixture of anticipation and unease.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside the room and immediately noticed the large bed in the center. Just one bed, not two. You froze for a moment, taking in the sight.

The bedspread was a dull, faded floral pattern, and the room had the usual motel decor—dated furniture, a small TV mounted on the wall, and a single lamp casting a dim, warm glow over the space. The air smelled faintly of cleaning products and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You set down the bags at the foot of the bed, your mind racing. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and the thought of sharing a bed with Dean after everything that had happened was both thrilling and terrifying. You knew you had to play it cool, to pretend like this was no big deal, but your heart was pounding in your chest at the thought of how the night might unfold.

A few minutes later, you heard the door creak open, and Dean stepped inside, a takeout bag from the diner in hand. His eyes immediately went to the bed, and you could see the moment he realized what you had already noticed.

He stopped in his tracks, the tension in the room thickening as he took in the single bed. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence almost deafening.

Dean let out a slow breath, trying to process the situation. He could feel the tension in the air thickening, the reality of the single bed sinking in. After a moment, he set the takeout bag down on the small table, his movements more deliberate than usual as he tried to think of how to handle this without making things even more awkward than they already were.

“Apparently, this was the only room they had left", Dean said, his voice tinged with frustration. “Figures, right?”.

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral even though your heart was racing. “Yeah, just our luck”. You offered him a small, forced smile, hoping to ease the tension between you. “But it’s just one night, like you said. We’ll manage”.

Dean nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He glanced at the bed again, then back at you, clearly weighing his options. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the same mix of emotions you were feeling—awkwardness, uncertainty, and something deeper that neither of you were ready to acknowledge.

“Alright”, he finally said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s just get through this, get some rest, and hit the road first thing in the morning”.

You both sat down at the table, trying to focus on the food and steer the conversation away from the elephant in the room. You talked about the drive, the music, anything that wasn’t related to the bed or the lingering tension between you. But even as you spoke, your thoughts kept drifting back to the situation at hand.

Once the meal was finished, the atmosphere between you felt a little more relaxed, but the reality of the single bed still loomed over you. Dean cleared the trash from the table, his movements slightly more rigid than usual, as if he was trying to keep himself busy to avoid thinking too much about what came next.

“Do you want the first shower?”, Dean asked, his voice casual, though you could hear the underlying strain.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure, thanks”. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom, grateful for the excuse to put a little distance between you and Dean, if only for a few minutes.

As the warm water cascaded over you, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You knew you’d have to face Dean again soon, and the prospect of sharing that bed with him was becoming more and more daunting. But you also knew that you couldn’t let this situation get the better of you. Dean was right—it was just one night, and you could handle it.

When you finally stepped out of the bathroom, you felt a little more composed. Dean gave you a brief nod as he passed by you to take his turn in the shower, and you took the opportunity to change into something comfortable for bed.

Eventually Dean emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and tousled, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. His footsteps were almost hesitant as he walked back into the room, his gaze falling on you already tucked in and cuddled up under the covers, your phone in hand. The sight of you there, looking so comfortable and yet so out of place in this motel room, made something twist in his chest.

He lingered by the door for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered his options. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, especially after everything that had happened between you. The idea of sharing a bed still felt like a step too far, even if it was just for one night. But at the same time, he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever.

“Uh…”, Dean cleared his throat, his voice rough as he tried to find the right words. “You sure you’re okay with this? I can still sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable”.

You looked up from your phone, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him standing there, clearly torn between his instincts to protect you and the unspoken feelings that had been simmering between you both for weeks. His offer was sincere, and you could see the concern in his eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t want him to sleep on the floor. It wasn’t just about the discomfort—it was about the strange comfort you found in his presence, even amidst the awkwardness.

“No, it’s fine”, you replied softly, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “Really, Dean, it’s just one night”.

Dean hesitated for a moment longer, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was that same trust you’d always had in him, and it was enough to push him forward. With a nod, he made his way to the other side of the bed, carefully pulling back the covers before sliding in beside you.

The bed felt impossibly small now that you were both in it, the space between you charged with a tension that was almost palpable. Dean lay on his back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to force himself to relax. He could feel the warmth of your body beside him, the subtle rise and fall of your breathing, and it was both comforting and maddening at the same time.

After a few moments of silence, Dean shifted slightly, turning his head to look at you. “If this gets too weird, just say the word, and I’ll move”, he said, his voice quiet but firm.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, offering him a small smile. “I will”, you promised, though deep down, you knew you wouldn’t. The thought of him moving away, of putting more distance between you, felt like the last thing you wanted.

The silence stretched on between you, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable silence from earlier. It was quieter, more reflective, as if you were both trying to come to terms with the fact that, despite everything, you were here, together, sharing this space.

Dean lay still, trying to will himself into sleep, but the discomfort in his back was making it difficult. He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but no matter how he moved, the stiffness persisted.

“My back hurts”, Dean grumbled after a while, his voice low and rough. The words broke the silence, but there was a trace of humor in his tone, an attempt to ease the lingering tension between you both.

You chuckled softly, the sound light in the quiet room. The tension eased just a little, and you placed your phone on the nightstand, turning to face him. Dean looked tired, the faint lines on his face more pronounced in the soft light of the bedside lamp. It was a reminder that he wasn’t in his twenties anymore, that the years had taken their toll in more ways than one.

“You sound like an old man”, you teased gently, though your smile was warm and affectionate.

Dean let out a huff of amusement, turning his head to look at you. “Yeah, well, I guess I am getting there”, he replied, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

For a moment, you just looked at each other, the playful banter giving way to something more serious, more real. The lines on his face, the way his eyes seemed to carry a weight that had nothing to do with the physical, made you realize just how much Dean had been through, how much he still carried with him.

As you shifted to get a better look at Dean, the blanket slipped down your body, revealing more of your top. The material was thin, and without a bra underneath, the outline of your nipples became faintly visible through the fabric. You were too caught up in the moment, in the concern you felt for Dean, to notice right away.

Dean, however, noticed immediately. His gaze flickered down for just a second before he forced himself to look away, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his thoughts in check. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you in casual clothing before, but this was different. Here you were, lying beside him in bed, the intimacy of the moment amplified by the quiet darkness of the room, and now this added layer of temptation was something he hadn’t been prepared for.

He could feel his heart rate picking up, a surge of heat flooding through him that he tried desperately to push down. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid—getting too close, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn’t go. But you were making it so damn difficult, not on purpose, he knew, but just by being yourself, by being here with him.

You caught the slight shift in his expression, the way his eyes had momentarily darkened before he looked away. It made you suddenly aware of the blanket’s position, of the way your top clung to your body. Your cheeks flushed, heat rushing to your face as you quickly pulled the blanket back up, covering yourself again.

“Sorry”, you mumbled, embarrassed, trying to laugh it off. “I didn’t mean to—”.

Dean cut you off, his voice gentle but firm. “It’s okay”, he said, though his voice was a little rougher than usual. “Nothing to apologize for”.

Your cheeks were bright red as you quickly turned away from Dean, pulling the blanket up higher in an attempt to hide not just your body, but the shame and confusion that were suddenly overwhelming you.

Dean, meanwhile, was locked in an internal battle, doing everything he could to push down the surge of arousal that had hit him the moment he caught sight of you. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, but the physical reaction was out of his control, and he hated himself for it. He shifted slightly, trying to adjust discreetly, but every movement seemed to make the situation worse.

The room was silent except for the sound of your breathing, which had quickened slightly as you tried to calm your racing heart.

Dean could see how tense you were, and it tore at him. He knew he needed to defuse the situation somehow, to make you feel less vulnerable, and maybe even coax a smile from you. So, he gently laid a hand on your bare shoulder, his touch light and comforting, as if he could somehow reassure you through that small connection.

“Hey”, he repeated softly, trying to bring a little warmth into his tone. “It’s not a big deal, really. I mean, it’s not like I saw much, right?”.

He gave a small, awkward chuckle, hoping the joke would lighten the mood. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. The look on your face when you finally turned to him—your cheeks still flushed and eyes wide with embarrassment—made it clear that you had taken his comment the wrong way.

You thought he was referring to the size of your breasts, and the humiliation that washed over you was almost unbearable. Your face grew even redder, and you quickly turned away again, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to hide not just your body but the sting of his unintended remark.

Dean’s heart dropped when he realized what had happened. “Oh… no,Y/N… I didn’t mean it like that!”, he said quickly, his voice laced with genuine panic. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t talking about… I swear. I just meant… you’re not… naked or anything”.

He ran a hand through his hair, utterly flustered and kicking himself for making the situation even worse. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel self-conscious, and now he had done exactly that.

“Look, I’m an idiot”, he added, his voice softer now, filled with regret. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I was just trying to… I don’t know, make things less awkward”.

You heard the sincerity in his voice, and though you were still embarrassed, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him too. He had only been trying to help, and you could see how much he regretted his choice of words.

For a while, the room was filled with an uneasy silence. You stared down at the blanket, still feeling the heat of embarrassment lingering in your cheeks, while Dean remained beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The awkwardness of the situation hung in the air, but Dean’s touch was gentle, a silent reassurance that he hadn’t meant to make you feel uncomfortable.

Finally, you found the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay”, you mumbled, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. You weren’t entirely sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself, but you could feel the sincerity in your words.

The warmth of his hand on your shoulder was almost too much. Your skin seemed to burn where he touched you.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved to hear you say that it was okay. “I’m really sorry”, he repeated softly, his voice full of genuine remorse. He squeezed your shoulder lightly before letting his hand drop away, as if he was giving you space to recover, though he already missed the contact.

Dean shifted slightly beside you, the tension in the air easing but not entirely dissipating. He was still feeling the weight of the moment, the awkwardness and the guilt of making you feel uncomfortable. His fingers twitched as he pulled his hand away, resisting the urge to keep touching you, to reassure you more. But he knew that pushing any further tonight wouldn’t help either of you.

“Just get some sleep”, he whispered, his voice low and rough with emotion. He turned away from you, his back now facing yours as he tried to create a little more distance between you. The bed felt both too big and too small at the same time—too big because of the emotional distance he felt growing, too small because he could still feel the warmth of your body so close to his.

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it, your own emotions still swirling inside you. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wished you could explain, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to settle into the bed. But sleep felt a long way off.

The room was quiet, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing and Dean’s, both of you lying there, back to back, lost in your own thoughts. Despite the lingering tension, there was a strange sense of comfort in the silence. Even with everything that had happened, even with the complications and the confusion, you were still here together, still connected in a way that neither of you could quite put into words.

Eventually, as the silence stretched on, the tension in your body began to ease. The initial embarrassment and awkwardness had slowly given way to a calmer, more introspective mood. You could still feel the warmth of Dean’s presence beside you, and despite the emotional distance that had crept between you, there was something undeniably comforting about just being near him.

You turned onto your side, facing Dean’s back. His broad shoulders rose and fell with each breath, and the sight of him, so close and yet so seemingly far away, stirred something deep within you. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for—maybe just some sense of reassurance, a connection that went beyond the words and the tension that had built up between you.

The room was dark, save for the faint light filtering in from the parking lot outside, casting a soft glow across Dean’s silhouette. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you found yourself just watching him, your thoughts swirling in the quiet of the night.

As the minutes ticked by in the quiet darkness, you found yourself gradually slipping toward sleep, your thoughts becoming softer, more distant, as the weight of the day finally began to catch up with you. The warmth of Dean's body next to yours, even with the small space still between you, was oddly comforting. You could feel the tension easing out of you, replaced by a kind of peacefulness that you hadn't expected to find after everything that had happened.

Just as you were teetering on the edge of sleep, you felt movement beside you. Dean shifted, and before you could fully process it, he turned over, his body now facing yours. The bed was small, and with this new position, the space between you disappeared almost entirely. Your faces were just inches apart, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

For a moment, you were both still, your eyes locked in the dim light, the reality of your closeness settling over you like a blanket. It should have felt awkward, the sudden intimacy of the moment, but somehow, it didn't. Instead, it felt… natural. Like this was exactly where you were supposed to be, even if neither of you had planned for it.

Dean's eyes searched yours, his gaze soft and unguarded in a way you rarely saw. Whatever tension had been lingering between you throughout the day seemed to have melted away, leaving only this quiet moment, shared between the two of you. The unspoken understanding that had passed between you earlier still lingered, a silent agreement that words weren't needed, that maybe this—whatever "this" was—was enough.

You could see the faint lines of exhaustion on his face, the way his eyes drooped slightly, as if sleep was pulling at him just as it was at you. But even in his tiredness, there was something reassuring in his gaze.

Neither of you moved, neither spoke. It was as if you both understood that this moment was fragile, something that could be shattered by even the smallest sound or gesture. So instead, you simply lay there, your breathing syncing up as the room around you grew quieter, the world outside fading away.

Dean’s hand twitched slightly, as if he was considering reaching out to you, but he stopped himself, letting it rest against the bed instead. The urge to close that last bit of distance between you, to feel the warmth of his hand in yours, was strong, but you held back, not wanting to break the delicate balance you had found.

Minutes passed, and slowly, the heaviness of sleep began to settle over both of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, the last thing you saw before sleep claimed you completely being Dean’s face, his expression relaxed and peaceful, so close to yours. The tension of the past days, the awkwardness, the unresolved feelings—all of it seemed to dissolve in the quiet comfort of the moment.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 7

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573 @c1gs-coffee @fyegyall

#jensen ackles #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #taking her in

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mytheoristavenue · 11 months ago

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MHA - How they comfort you - I

Dedicated to my dear friend @marsoverthestars.

Summary: Your peers notice you've hit a rough patch lately and want to help.

Warnings: Pure fluff, comfort, mentions of depression, mentions of unhealthy habits.

It was no secret: you were going through it. Life was ju8st currently putting you through the wringer and you were beginning to feel like a damp, laundered rag. Due to having a quirk heavily affected by your emotions, every soul around you could feel your upset, as if your depressive mood chipped the very paint off the walls. Luckily for you, they know just the trick to help you out of your funk!

Yuga Aoyama:

"Out of bed, mon amie." Yuga chirped, letting himself into your room, throwing the curtains open. You hissed at the sudden flood of light.

"Aoyama, shut the curtains!" you protested, pulling your comforter over your head and rolling over.

"Not today, cheri," He persisted, tearing your covers from you.

"You've been locked away in this dungeon for far too long, my dear, and I'm afraid you're beginning to smell." He smirked, pulling you out of bed by your wrist, forcefully but with care.

"Gee, thanks..." you grumbled, rubbing your eyes, nonchalantly sniffing your underarm before wincing. "Fuck, I do smell."

"Langauge, amie," He reminded, sifting through your dresser. "But yes, you do, and worse than that, you're loosing your sparkle and that simply won't do." He stood straight, a bundle of clothes in his arms, smiling warmly. "For this time only, I will grant you access to my luxury bath salts, so make sure and enjoy them while you can."

He shooed you out of your own room, shoving your clothes into your arms. "No off with you, towels warm and the bathwater is boiling. Go take care of yourself, darling."

Mina Ashido:

Mina hadn't seen any sign of you in days, worrying her to bits. She knew you tended to seclude yourself when you were down, and she did try to respect that. She'd comb through TikTok, bombarding your inbox with memes, edits of your favorite characters, and 'us' slideshows, but when you would simply heart them (if you responded at all), she couldn't take it anymore.

"(Y/N), are you in there?" She asked cautiously from the hall, knocking softly. "Can I come in, please? I miss you!"

You trudge to the door, wrapped in melancholy and a stale blanket. "What is it, Mina?" To your surprise, she threw her arms around you, tearing up as she saw your disheveled state.

"Whatever it is, I'm sorry!" she lamented, squeezing you tightly. "Whatever is bothering you, we can talk about it, please don't shut yourself away from me!" You'd never seen her so upset outside of battle. She was typically so bubbly, was she that concerned. "Everyone's so worried about you..."

"M-Me...?"" you repeat, not having realized how important you were to others.

"Please, if you won't come out, at least let me in..." she begged, pulling back with an earnest look, onyx scaleras glistening with worry. To her relief and yous, you relented, letting her inside.

Tsuyu Asui:

Tsu had noticed you withdrawing from your peers long before you actually had. First, you wouldn't talk as much in class, then you began eating lunch alone and declining invites out, and then, one day, you disappeared entirely.

She wasn't entirely sure how to go about comforting you, but it was obvious to her you were having a hard time. At first, she just left you alone, thinking you might have needed space, but then she began to wonder if there was something more she could do. Then it came to her, she was a big sister, she was so good at giving comfort to others. She'd just do for you what she'd do her her siblings.

"You you like a hug, ribbit?" the question caught you off guard as you stood in the kitchen, drink in hand, one of the rare occasions you left your room.

"What?"

"I've noticed you've been having a hard time, would you like a hug, ribbit?" She asked, offering you her arms. "I know being part frog, I'm a little awkward to hug, but when my little siblings were upset, I'd-" You didn't care how her slouched back back it odd for you to do it, you wrapped your arms around her, tears streamiong down your face.

"Yes, a hug would be wonderful, Tsu..." you answered with a sniffle. "Thank you." She happily enveloped you in a warm embrace, stroking her thumbs over your shoulders.

"Happy to help, ribbit," she beamed, resting her head on your shoulder. "I'm happy to give you as many hugs as you like, anytime you like..."

Tenya Iida:

Tenya was smart, obviously, but he was still a novice when it came to relationships with his peers and handling interactions. That's why when you began skipping class, he, as class president took it upon himself to hand deliver your homework, along with a stern talking to about attendance. That earned him a door slamming in his face, to nobody's suprise.

Now he knows better. Though it goes against his morals, he cuts you slack, visiting you every day briefly. Papers slide under your door in stacks. Neatly written notes, mock tests, and graded homework, all with nothing less than A's. You haven't done your homework in a week. Among the pages, one day, a letter appears, reading:

"I understand I am still learning how to be a friend, and you are teaching me new ways to be a better one. I appreciate that. I also understand I can't take your woes off your plate, so, even though I find it wrong, I will take on what of your burdens I can. I hope we can talk soon, but until then, take all the time away from school that you need. You will have perfect grades to come back to."

Ochako Uraraka:

'Good morning!' 'Goodnight!' 'How do you feel today?' It seemed like your phone never stopped dinging from how many times a day she texted you. Not only that but she'd check in on you in person multiple times a day as well, especially if you didn't answer any of her texts. She'd bring you breakfast in the mornings and dinner in the evening, catch you up on current events.

Eventually, you wound up letting her stay longer each time, texting her back longer replies. Before you knew it, you were texting/talking for hours. She'd send you a meme and you'd send one back. She'd tell you who liked who in the toher classes and you actually began to care.

You didn't even notice when the worries of your depressive episode began to fade into the background, the excitement of waking up to a good morning text lighting up your day each and every time.

Mashirao Ojiro:

It wasn't clear how it came to this, but here you were, cradled in Mashiroa's lap, tail curled around you securely. "Shhh, it's okay, let it out." he murmured, chin resting atop your head, thumbs stoking your skin with such care as he rocked you back and forth, letting you cry and vent your frustrations.

He hadn't needed to ask, he didn't beg you to talk. He simply knocked on your door and engulfed you in a warm, wordless embrace, the moment you opened it, holding you against him until you stopped resisting. You were rewarded for your surrender with his fingers gently raking through your hair. And then, you ended up like this.

"It's all gonna be okay, I promise." He swore, pressing a kiss to your temple as he felt your breathing calm. You'd cried yourself to sleep in his arms. He was just glad to see your pain fading away, even if momentarily.

Denki Kaminari:

"Why'd you stop answering your phone?" Denki asked, leaning into your doorway. "I've been worried sick."

"It died," you said dismissively. In truth, you doom-scrolled the battery to death.

"Charge it, maybe?" he deadpanned, cocking a brow at you.

"Lost my brick." you answered numbly, moving to shut the door, simply wanting to crawl back into bed, only to have his foot come between it and the frame.

"Bullshit," he called, pushing his way into your room, kicking out of his shoes and crawling into your bed without care in the world. "C'mon," he patted the space beside you, rolling his eyes at your befuddled expression. He swiped your chord off the nightstand, popping it in his mouth. "Bring me your phone." he said, words muffled by the charged between his teeth.

Your shoulders slumped as you came closer, handing it over, watching him plug the chord into it before holding the power button and bringing it back to life. Reluctantly, you crawled under the covers with him. "What are you doing?" you asked as he opened the Youtube app.

"You look like you could use a laugh," he smirked fingers tapping across the keyboard. The search bar read 'kids getting hurt'.

Eijiro Kirishima:

Eijiro sat on the outside of your door, rapping softly against it near the bottom. "Talk to me, please?" He asked, defeated. "I wanna help..." He had been at this for hours, listening to you cry on the other side of the locked door. He finally sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position. "We don't have to talk, if you don't wanna, we could just chill..."

Ten minutes pass and still, your only response to his coaxing are sobs not even meant for him. "I'm not exactly cuddly, but I could give you a hug?" he offered, knowing it was futile. "We could watch a movie, just lay in bed." he swallowed hard, rolling his stiff neck. "Just let me know you're okay..."

Still, he got no answer and part of him began to wonder if he was doing more harm than good. "Want me to just go...?"

"...No..." your soft voice came from the other side- inches away. When had you moved closer? It didn't matter. His fingers slipped under the crack of the door as a sympathetic smile crept across his face, widening when he felt yours graze them.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," he reassured kindly. "We don't gotta talk, I'll stay out here all night if I have to. Until you're ready for more than company."

Koji Koda:

Koji had no idea how to help soothe your pain as shy as he was. He could hardly talk to you in person, what could he possibly do? Well, he did have your social media, and he knew your favorite animal...

At exact times, staggered throughout the day, your phone would buzz, always with a message from him saying something like: 'I hope you're doing okay today!" with an attachment of a cute video or picture of your favorite animal. Sometimes they'd come with a little factoid about the animal.

It wasn't much, but he put a good deal of effort into this ritual, always making sure the messages, facts, and media were never the same. Little did he know, his efforts weren't in vain, they meant everything to you.

Rikido Sato:

Rikido had many flaws, but if there was one thing he was an expert at, it was keeping an index of everyone's tastes, and baking. That's why when he noticed you beginning to pull away from your friends, he was quick to jump into action. He wasn't one for confrontation, but acts of service were how he showed he cared.

He knew you favored a certain flavor, and he challenged himself to see how far he could take that knowledge. What all could he do with the extract of one flavor?

You were taken back when you began finding treats waiting for you outside your room every day. Poundcake on Monday, cupcakes on Tuesday, tarts on Wednesday, and so on and so forth. After a week or so, he was beginning to sweat, having scoured the internet and every book on his shelf for new recipes.

On the eighth day, while setting a beautifully wrapped box of cookies at your door, he jumped out of his skin, looking up to find your feet in front of him. "Sato..." you muttered, smiling sadly down at him as he bashfully stood, hulking over you.

"S-Sorry to bug you, just uh..." he explained sheepishly, lifting the package off the floor and handing it over directly. "I-I made you some cookies and..."

"Thank you..." you smiled, holding them to your chest. "You're so sweet." He was delighted to see such a genuine look of joy in your tired eyes. He felt like he'd found you after a long search.

"There you are..." he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Missed you..."

I hope these help lift yall's spirits! There will be more, I promise!

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"

Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.

"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."

She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.

Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."

Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"

Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."

"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."

He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.

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

The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.

She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.

Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.

The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.

With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her.

"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."

"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.

With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."

Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."

"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."

Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit.

"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.

She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.

A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."

There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.

"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.

"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."

Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.

"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.

"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."

"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"

So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."

His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"

"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"

Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"

Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."

She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."

He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."

She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go."

Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.

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

"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"

Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.

"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.

"I haven't seen her again in weeks."

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."

"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.

"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.

He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.

Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?

It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.

He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.

Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.

He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.

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

Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.

"Anna!"

At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later.

"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"

Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.

"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."

"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.

"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously.

Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes.

Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."

Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"

"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."

The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.

When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.

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

Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.

When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.

Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"

The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"

Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.

"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."

Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"

The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"

His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."

The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?

He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.

He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there.

"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.

He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.

"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.

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

I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #robert floyd x oc #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #covering the classics

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thatgirlmendo · 15 days ago

Text

Until the Quiet Takes Us

Prologue - more chapters to come?? Let me know if you want tagged.

Summary: Joel returns to Austin and on the way comes across the reader after she had a run in with raiders. They left her for dead but he takes pity on her and promises to stay by her side until she recovers… he didn’t anticipate enjoying your company quite as much as he does…

Pairing: joel miller x female reader

Word Count: 1273

Content Warnings: Nothing sexual (yet 😏) some gore - but not much. Age Gap - Reader is 20s

Writer Notes: Y’all I AM HOOKED on writing now. I can’t stop. This little story takes place in the area I went to college and grew up in 😬 I’m excited to write about Joel in my favorite place on earth. I have literally been writing all morning. Comments welcome! I need feedback. Have not proof read yet, but I will once completed.

Sometime in the Spring

Your head is spinning. Your tongue feels heavy. Even opening your eyes feels like too much. You squeeze them shut tighter, trying to focus — trying to remember.

You’d been trekking along the outskirts of Austin, alone now after the last of your group was lost to looters. Cautious and careful you were hopeful that you might scavenge enough supplies to get the hell out of this city for good and continue your plan to head west.

You'd heard Austin was abandoned, that it had been picked clean, ravaged, empty.

And you had believed it. You let your guard down, even just for a moment.

You thought, if nothing else, maybe you could find a place to lay your head for the night, somewhere semi familiar.

It had been years since you’d seen the city you grew up in — and the sight of its skeleton hit harder than you expected. The plan had been to keep moving west, toward the hills, hoping to find old prepper bunkers or forgotten supplies hidden deep in the mountains.

But something pulled you back. Something you couldn't explain.

You knew you were making a mistake the second you stepped closer to the old city center. You knew it, and still but you kept walking.

The layout in front of you brought a small smile to your face. You remembered this place. Long ago, you and your dad would spend your weekends here — walking down Congress Street, hauling the kayak out for a lazy trip down the river. It was tradition. Muscle memory brought you back, even through the ruins. Even after everything.

Your family had fled to the Boston QZ when everything fell apart. You'd grown up there, survived there — until you escaped with a ragtag group of kids barely older than you. Jackson or bust had been the dream. But truthfully, there had been no real plan. Just to keep moving and stay breathing.

One by one, you'd watched your friends fall. One by one, you'd buried them in shallow graves or simply left them behind because your plans no longer aligned with theirs. Until you were here, alone. In the place that once brought you so much happiness. Now you were standing on the bones of a city you barely remembered, trying to chase down a ghost of who you used to be all those years ago.

You crouched by the rubble of what you thought might have been your old street.

The house was long gone, buried under concrete and ash.

But if you closed your eyes... you could almost see it.

Almost, just almost, feel it.

That was your mistake.

You heard the sound but too late.

The snap of a boot against gravel.

You tried to whip around, tried to draw your pistol — but something slammed into you hard from behind.

Your knees buckled. The world tilted sideways.

You hit the ground, struggling to sit up, fighting against the darkness closing in —

And then everything went black.

—————————————-

Joel isn’t sure what drew him to trudge through the once busy city center, it only brought back bad memories of before.

Austin’s bones are all that’s left. Nothing but sun-bleached concrete, skeletal high-rises, old shops gutted and dead. He doesn’t usually come this close. Too many memories, too many ghosts. But something about today, something low in his gut, pulled him in. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was penance.

Maybe, just maybe it was fate?

He keeps his rifle slung low, boots crunching over shattered glass, the occasional rustle of wind tugging at the frayed edges of old banners still clinging to the posts that line the old once busy streets. Joel’s learned to listen for the wrong kind of silence, not that peaceful kind, but the too-still, something-ain’t-right kind of silence.

That’s when he hears it, you, a wet, shallow breath. A sound not natural to the ruins around him. He freezes, body tight, hand already at his gun.

Slowly, he follows it with that noise, gun at the ready if something is wrong.

He rounds a corner near what used to be an old coffee shop, and that’s when he sees you. Crumpled near the foundation of what might’ve been a grand house once. Half-covered in dust and debris, blood is caked into your hairline, one arm twisted at an ugly angle beneath you. You’re barely breathing, your chest rising in tiny, pitiful jerks.

Raiders. Joel sighs, he knows the signs. They hadn’t even bothered to kill you, damn them… just left you to die slow, like trash.

He should walk away.

He should.

But he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he walk away?

Something about you, the way your fingers still twitch weakly, as if you’re clawing your way back to life, you want to be alive. Something keeps him rooted to the spot. He curses under his breath, checking the perimeter quickly, then crouching beside you.

“Hey,” he says, voice low but firm. “You with me?”

No response. Your face twitches slightly, but you can’t open your eyes.

Joel runs a hand down his face, grunting. He doesn’t have time for this. He’s supposed to be heading back west, supposed to be done with this goddamn city and everything it represents.

But you’re so small lying there. So broken. And something ugly stirs in his chest when he looks at you — something he can’t manage to shove down.

It ain’t pity. He’s not sure what it is.

He should walk away. He knows he should.

Instead, he crouches down beside you. His hands are rough when he touches you, checking for injuries so he can move you, but there’s a carefulness to him too, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he isn’t gentle.

“Goddammit,” he mutters under his breath. “What the hell am I doin’.”

Your skin’s hot to the touch, fever or infection, maybe worse. But you’re alive. Somehow you are still breathing.

Joel glances over his shoulder, scanning the ruins around him. It’s not safe here. It’s never been safe here.

Carefully, he slides his arms beneath you. You let out a broken, helpless sound, and Joel feels something twist deep in his gut — something he doesn’t want to name.

You’re not his responsibility. You’re nothing to him, noone. Just another stray the world tried to chew up and spit out.

But when he lifts you into his arms, it feels final somehow, like a line’s been crossed he can’t come back from.

He holds you tighter than he should. Like maybe if he just grips hard enough, the world can’t take you away too.

“You ain’t dyin’ out here,” he says under his breath, half a promise, half a curse. “Not on my watch.”

Joel doesn’t know why he says it. Doesn’t know why he feels it like a brand on his skin.

But he keeps walking — away from the city, away from the past — carrying you with him, feeling the weight of you settle into something heavier than he’s ready for.

Something he already knows damn well he won’t be able to walk away from.

Its sickening and heavy. But he doesn't stop.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou hbo #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #slow burn #joel x reader

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honeydippedfiction · 10 days ago

Note

Please I need #1 from the pre-established list with Trevor Z

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

#1. Sending you dumb questions, funny jokes, or random thoughts in replacement of good morning texts.

Trevor Zegras x black!femreader

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Trevor never sent normal good morning texts. Not once.

Where most couples woke up to heart emojis or sleepy selfies or some variation of “Did you sleep okay?”, she woke up to things like: “If I get bitten by a radioactive squirrel, promise you’ll still love me if I become Nutman.”

It was absurd. Unnecessary. And somehow, it had become her favorite part of the day.

It started early in their relationship—accidental at first. One morning, he’d overslept and shot off a panicked text that read, “Just woke up from a dream where I lost all my teeth and then signed a contract with the Tooth Fairy. Thoughts?”

She had laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone in the sink. It wasn’t a smooth good morning, but it was real. It was weird, oddly tender, and it caught her completely off guard.

After that, it became a thing.

Every morning like clockwork—sometimes before sunrise if he was on the road, sometimes a few minutes after she’d already texted him “hey sleepyhead”—a new Trevor Zegras Original™ would arrive. Stupid, sweet, or wonderfully unhinged. But never ordinary.

This morning was no different.

Her alarm went off at 6:55 AM. She silenced it with a groan and rolled over, burying half her face in the pillow. Her body begged her to stay in bed, but her brain—well-trained now—waited for the buzz.

It came at 7:03.

She reached blindly for her phone and unlocked the screen.

Trevor: “Serious question: If I legally adopt a penguin, can it be the ring bearer at our wedding?”

A slow grin crept across her face. “This boy,” she mumbled to no one. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and thumbed out a reply.

Her: “Only if it wears a bowtie. Tux is overkill.”

She barely had time to set her phone down before the typing bubbles appeared.

Trevor: “God, you get me.”

This was their rhythm. The day didn’t begin until he’d dropped a dumb hypothetical into her life like a glitter bomb—completely unnecessary, a little messy, but unexpectedly delightful.

Her apartment was quiet. She padded barefoot to the kitchen, sunlight beginning to spill across the tile floor, and flicked on the kettle. Her phone dinged again.

Trevor: “Okay but what if we invite two penguins? One for each of us. Equal opportunity.”

She laughed out loud, nearly spilling her tea. “That’s equality,” she muttered, tapping back.

Her: “You’re drunk with power. It’s 7 AM.”

Some of his greatest hits lived forever in a saved folder on her phone—screenshotted, organized, and shamelessly re-read on bad days.

— “Would you still date me if I had elbows where my knees are?” — “Your laugh is strawberry-flavored. Not a question, just a fact.” — “Do you think ghosts get annoyed at each other? Like, 'Ugh, Janet, stop floating through the wall dramatically.'”

Each message was a window into his mind. Some windows were foggy. Some were cracked. All of them were open.

On away-game days, the texts got more elaborate. Maybe it was the hotel boredom or the 3 AM bus rides, but he had time. He’d send long strings of voice notes, or mock-poetry about how sad his pregame bagel looked.

One Tuesday, she woke up to a five-part text saga:

Trevor: “Okay hear me out: a reality show where NHL players have to live on a farm and raise goats.” “I’d win btw.” “Or die.” “Either way, entertainment.” “Miss your face.”

She had laughed herself into a coughing fit. Not just because it was funny, but because it was him. Even when he was exhausted or hurting, even when the game had gone sideways or the media was hounding him—he always found a way to send something that felt like him. And better yet, that felt like them.

Because, really, that was the magic of it.

These weren’t just jokes. They were love notes in disguise. They were little daily reminders that he saw her, even when she wasn’t in front of him. That she was the first person he wanted to tell when his brain spun off into some strange corner. That he didn’t want their relationship to become routine—not even for a second.

He didn’t say “good morning.” He said “here’s a world I made up that only we live in.”

And she treasured it.

One night, back in the off-season, they were tangled up on his couch, Netflix flickering in the background. Her legs draped over his lap, his fingers absently tracing circles on her shin. They’d watched maybe ten minutes of The Officebefore veering into one of their wandering late-night conversations.

She glanced over at him, playful curiosity in her voice. “Hey. Why do you do that?”

He didn’t look away from the screen. “Do what?”

“The weird texts. The penguins. The elbow knees. All of it. You could just send, you know… ‘good morning.’ Like a normal boyfriend.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but where’s the romance in that?”

She snorted. “You think hypothetical penguins are romantic?”

Finally, he looked at her—smiling, but serious in that way he got when she caught him off guard. When her question nudged something real beneath the jokes.

“I just… I never want you to feel like I’m phoning it in,” he said. “Like I’m just checking a box. I want you to wake up and already know I’m thinking about you—not in some boring, 'hope you slept well' kind of way. But in the way where my brain does something dumb and you’re the first person I need to tell.”

She looked at him then—really looked. At the boy who lit up arenas and still worried about making her laugh before 8 AM. At the kid who could dangle around defenders but never danced around his feelings.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned over and kissed him, soft and slow. Then whispered, “You’re such a weirdo.”

He beamed. “Your weirdo.”

The next morning, her phone buzzed before her alarm. 6:41 AM.

Trevor: “What if we bought a submarine and just dipped from land life?”

She blinked at the screen for a second, half-laughing, half-awake.

Her: “Only if it has WiFi and you do the dishes.”

And just like that, her day began.

Better than good.

Better than “Good morning.”

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vivzzi · 2 years ago

Text

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

synopsis: the day guard and night guard communicating through notes.

your shift starts the same way as every other day. you start by checking the pizzeria to make sure no intruders came in then you start cleaning the office. normally it’s full of empty fast food wrappers and cigarette ashes but this time you find a small bottle of sleeping pills with the owners name on the side of the bottle. mike schmidt. you remember vanessa telling you about the new night guard so you assume it’s his. grabbing a sticky note and pen you write a small note.

try and remember to take your pills home with you next time mike :)

- the day guard

you stick the note on the top of the pill bottle before sitting down and checking the cameras and taking small naps every now and then till the end of your shift. once the clock hits 11pm you grab your belongings before making your way out. while walking to the bus stop the sounds of your shoes hitting the ground with each step being the only noticeable sound throughout the empty street you start thinking about what the new night guard could be like. probably lazy since he brings his pills to work with him.

everyday starts the same. doing the same tasks around the pizzeria and checking on the animatronics every couple days. you walk into the office setting your bag on the ground taking your headphones off when you see a note attached to the security monitor.

Thanks for keeping my pills safe and not throwing them away. maybe you could tell me your name as well? i wish there was another way i could thank you.

- Mike

a small smile appears across your face before you take out another sticky note writing a small note for him.

it’s y/n and you keeping the office clean is the best thank you gift lol

- y/n

you place the note next to his old one before continuing with your job.

when you got to work the next day you didn’t bother with your daily tasks instead you were focused on reading the new note mike has left behind for you. instantly walking through the hallway and straight into the office your eyes see a tiny fort set up in the office which looks like it could fit a small child in before looking over at the desk and seeing another note.

Sorry about the fort my sister came to work with me since i didn’t have a babysitter available last night :/ i promise to clean it up once i come back later. please accept this drink as an apology gift

- Mike

you see a can of coke next to the note and you smile while picking it up. a small gesture which you appreciated.

no worries about the fort it’s kinda cute but thanks for the drink :)) please accept this i think you need it more than me

-y/n

you walk towards your bag and pull out a can of redbull before placing it next to the note feeling proud of yourself. after that you start doing your tasks with mike being the only thing occupying your mind.

your routine has completely changed instead of doing what you used to do now all you do is leave notes and small gifts for mike as he does the same for you. this time you brought a gift for his younger sister who’s name that you learnt is abby. you place the gift in her fort. a small stuffed bunny before going over to see mikes new note.

This note thing can’t go on forever i may have to clock in early one night so we can talk in person. Abby would also love to meet you.

- Mike

the note was placed on a small bar of chocolate. mike has already shared his past with jobs and how he ended working here so you never really expected any type of expensive gift from him and to be honest you loved all the things he has given you so far.

the next day was different. the second you walked into the pizzeria you were greeted with broken glass everywhere, ripped posters and prizes all over the ground. you sat down in the main dining hall covering your face out of stress you couldn’t help but to feel guilty as if the place getting broken into was your fault. suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by a person running into the pizzeria.

“y/n?”

the person runs up to you before pulling you into a tight hug whispering soft words of reassurance into your ear.

“vanessa told me what happened don’t worry about it- are you hurt?”

“mike?”

you finally look up at him as he gives you a small smile and hums to show you that he’s really there before you hug him back.

“i’m so glad you’re here”

“i cant believe this is how we meet”

he makes a quick joke to lighten the mood and it works as you let out a small laugh shaking your head. the rest of the day was spent cleaning up the mess with music playing in the background while you and mike connected over anything you had in common.

leaving him that note was the best decision ever.

bonus:

you walk out of mike’s car and to his front door with him as he opens it. you see vanessa sleeping on the couch after babysitting abby. you ended up staying at the pizzeria with mike for his shift that same day which made him invite you over to meet abby.

as mike shuts the door you can hear footsteps approaching you guys. abby runs up to mike giving him a hug before turning to you slightly confused.

“abby this is y/n”

her confused expression slowly turns into an excited one as she runs up to you giving your figure a tight hug.

“thank you so much for the stuffed bunny i still have it. do you want to come and see my stuffed animal collection in my room?”

before you could answer her she drags you down the hallway and towards her room. you turn around giving mike a smile while following abby.

“already bringing her home mike? that was fast”

mike slightly jumps due to vanessa’s voice before rolling his eyes.

a/n: might turn this into a mini series because i wanna expand their relationship but im still thinking about it and i lowkey hate this 😭😭

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader #fnaf #five nights at freddy's

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just1cefor4ll · 6 months ago

Text

—Polar bond

requested. yes || no

summary. ice skating date with Aiden :3

warning. not proof read, swearing, short

“Soo.. Can I hold your hand on the ice?” Aiden asked slyly and slid his hand onto your much colder one as you sat on the bus to the ice skating rink. “Depends..” You smile teasingly and interwine your fingers with his. It wasn’t a surprise Aiden would come with you with the idea of going ice skating and it wasn’t just as a surprise that you said yes.

You always entertained his dumb ideas and with the two of you always being attached at the hip, or sharing your two brain cells, the two of you were always around whenever mischief was being caused.

Just as you arrived at the skating rink, snowflakes started falling from the gray-ish clouds above you like soft white petals which made the experience twice as magical. Sadly the snow wouldn’t be able to reach you anymore since you were skating indoors but you could only hope that you were going to come back with a bunch of snow lying around.

You borrowed a pair of skates and waited for Aiden to get his own while you tried your best to tie them as firmly as possible to prevent any slipping and injuries. You took the guards of the sharp shiny blades and helped Aiden tie his own pair and took the guards off so you could finally get to skating. You couldn’t really lie; you weren’t all that great at skating. Yes you knew how but it was just overwhelming being in a full blown crowd with little space and children running— well skating around you like they had 10 cups of coffee hours before. Aiden noticed how you just merely stood in one place gripping the edge to steady yourself and skated over to you, interwining his hands with you just like he had mentioned on the ride here.

“Come on, it’s not that scary when you get the hang of avoiding crashing into people.” He chuckles and kisses your cheek before pulling you with him, making you stumble but you manage to balance yourself and follow his lead.

Every time you stumbled or almost hit someone Aiden somehow ‘saved the day’ and caught you in his arms with a warm, teasing smile and some smart ass remark. “Come on, it isn’t that hard. You just want to be in my arms don’t you?” He asked with a smirk and pulled you to the side so you weren’t in the way of the many other people skating and lifted your head by the chin to look into your eyes. You hated when he did that. “Aiden, not now.” You whisper yelled as the millenial couples passed by with grimaces and children with big curious eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed? You’re the one who’s been dying to be in my arms this whole time.” You punch his shoulder and skate away from the stunned yet smiling boy, trying to loose him in the crowd of people but it was like he had a tracker on you and was impossible to loose!

Once he caught up he grabbed you by the waist which wasn’t a smart idea because spoiler alert; you fell. And Aiden unfortunately went down with you with a loud thud and not without sending shots of pain through your body. “Fuck Aiden, you fucking dumbass.” You glare but you couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips as a fit of giggles fill Aidens ears. He smiles and lifts himself up before lifting you up with him and pulling you out of the rink. “I think that’s enough time on the ice for the day.” He says disappointedly but takes off his skates, stretching his aching legs and letting the blood flow through them without any pressure.

The walk to Aidens house wasn’t long, giving yourselves the time to enjoy the falling snow and christmas atmosphere and have small snowball fights which usually ended in you getting hit square in the face with the freezing snowball. “My feet hurt so bad.” You groan, Aidens ears perking up with a small smile which never meant anything good. He lifted you into his arms, walking the rest of the way to his house with you being carries bridal style which only made your cheeks redder.

Once you finally got home you two made some hot tea and changed into some more comfortable clothes; which consisted of Aidens sweatpants, a shirt you forgot to bring home after a sleepover and some random pair of fluffy socks. “I had fun babe.” He said as he admired you in the mirror doing whatever it is you did before bed. “Yeah, me too my love.” You smile and give him a quick kiss, setting your phone down which now had the two of you at the ice skating rink as your background.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

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fairiily · 9 months ago

Text

unspoken desire

description: you and wade had been teasing each other for far too long, so you decided to do something about it.

pairing: deadpool x you

contains: teasing, tension, no smut but almost

word count: ~1.2k

an: this is my first time ever posting my writing so pls be nice

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

It was obvious.

Everyone in the X-Mansion knew Deadpool was into you, even if he refused to admit it. The one time he didn’t blurt out what he felt the moment he felt it. Painstakingly annoying, considering Wade says every thought that crosses his mind.

After too many torturous hangouts filled with endless teasing that neither of you acted on, you decided to do something about it. Something he couldn’t resist.

You and Wade always messed around with each other—not like that, although every part of you wished it was. Whether it was play-fighting, bickering like siblings, or making the most ridiculous jokes, nothing was ever serious between you two. But every time Wade joked about kissing you, teasing you, or even sometimes fucking you, a part of you felt like he wasn’t joking. You had put up with his antics long enough, and you were determined to put an end to it since Wade didn’t have the balls to.

Surprising to everyone, even Deadpool himself, Colossus had convinced Wade to join the X-Men. As always, he was hesitant at first but eventually caved to make Colossus happy. However, his decision wasn’t made entirely with pure intentions. You were the newest member of the X-Men, having taken off your yellow “trainee” top and chucked it in the trash a few days ago. Wade was caught off guard when he saw you, as you hadn’t joined the X-Men on their recent missions involving him. But you may have influenced Wade’s decision. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

You had always felt his gaze, but pining was only fun for so long. After a long day of missions, you and the X-Men returned to the mansion. Everyone was getting ready for bed, settling into their nightly routines. Your bedroom had a connected bathroom, but you wanted to have some fun tonight. You searched your closet for the tiniest shorts you owned and slipped them on, purposely wearing nothing underneath. Next came your tank top—low-cut and accentuating in all the right places. You then stepped out of your room, butterflies in your stomach from the excitement.

You peeked around the corner to make sure Wade’s door was open, then made your way down the hall. When you reached Wade’s room, you swung around the door frame with your hand, stretching your body away from it.

“Hey, Wade.”

Wade spun around, his eyes going wide as he took in your outfit. For a moment, he looked like he’d been hit with a bus but shortly regained his composure.

“Whoa, Y/N! Is this a new superhero costume? Because it’s totally working for you.” He grinned. “Did you just step out of a fashion magazine or are you trying to distract me?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at his over-the-top reaction. “Just wanted to let you know, today was pretty insane.”

Wade wiggled his eyebrows, still struggling to keep his eyes off you. “Oh yeah, the way that guy’s head spun? Classic. I think he may need an exorcist after that—if he survives the migraine.”

“Yeah, it was wild,” you replied, your tone playful. “But hey, I’m about to crash. Got a big day tomorrow.”

Wade dramatically pouted, placing a hand over his heart. “Aww, come on! Don’t leave me hanging. I need someone to save me from my own bad jokes. Plus, I was just getting started with the witty banter!”

"Goodnight, Wade." you said, looking into his eyes.

You walked across the hallway into the bathroom, but deliberately left the door open. Wade made a mental note, realizing you had your own bathroom and had chosen to come to his.

With your hands on the edges of the sink, you leaned over into the mirror, making an effort to arch your back in the process. Wade realized what you were doing, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The way your clothes hugged your curves—he thought you looked so good, so effortlessly. He shifted on the edge of his bed, and you noticed he was still staring. It was working. But you wanted to see what he was going to do about it, now that you’d made it obvious. You wanted to see how long you could tease him before he gave in.

After his sweatpants grew tighter, he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. You’d won.

You then felt two rough hands on your back before you even realized he had gotten up. His grip was firm but hesitant, like he was testing the waters, making sure this was what you wanted. You caught his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark with desire but still holding that flicker of uncertainty. For a split second, you felt a rush of power surge through you—this was your game now, and he was playing by your rules.

“Wade,” you murmured, your voice low and inviting as you leaned into his touch, arching your back a little more. “You finally going to stop pretending?”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as his hands slowly slid up your sides, grazing the hem of your tank top. “Y’know, I usually just go straight for it, but something about you makes me wanna savor the moment. What happened to goodnight?”

You could feel his breath on your neck as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine. His hands moved with deliberate slowness, teasing you just as much as you’d teased him.

“I changed my mind. And if you don’t hurry up, I might just have to take matters into my own hands,” you teased, your tone laced with both challenge and promise.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the skin behind your ear. “But first… how about we see just how much of that outfit you’re really wearing for me?”

His fingers dipped beneath the fabric of your tank top, grazing the bare skin underneath, and you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips. Wade smirked at your reaction, his confidence growing with every little sound you made.

“You’ve been driving me crazy, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, unusually serious. “All this time, and you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

His hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of your shorts, his fingers slipping under just enough to make your pulse quicken. You felt him pause, as if waiting for some final sign from you.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Then take what you want, Wade. I’m right here.”

That was all the permission he needed.

In one swift motion, he spun you around to face him, his hands firmly on your hips as he backed you against the sink. His eyes were locked onto yours, hunger flashed within them.

Before you could say anything, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss hungry and desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

Wade’s hands began to explore your body, his touch rough and impatient as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel the heat radiating between you, the tension that had been building for so long finally snapping.

As his hands continued to explore, and your kisses grew more heated, you knew that this was just getting started. There was no more pretending, no more teasing. you got him exactly where you wanted. you swiftly sat up from the edge of the counter, taking him to your room.

the door behind you slammed. you didnt realize how much you needed him, and the way he was touching you said he felt the same.

"im so glad i have you all to myself." wade murmured, desire spilling out of his voice.

and in that moment, you wondered if all of his skin was textured.

it was a long night.

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

anyways thats it thank u for reading! i didnt write the smut part sorry to disappoint but i literally dont know how to LOL!

#deadpool #deadpool x reader #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader smut #wade wilson smut #wade wilson x you #deadpool x you #mcu #marvel #im in love with wade wilson i need him NOW

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kaliforniahigh · 6 months ago

Note

I just left an abusive relationship. I need some comfort😭 If your comfortable with it could you do a fluff one where the reader runs to Noah when leaving. I need a reader runs into his arms and gives the most comforting hug in the world. Maybe falls in love even?

No, take me home, take me home where I belong - n.s.

Hi, anon! I'm sorry this happened to you and I'm so proud of you for leaving. I'm hoping this fic brings you some kind of comfort <3

Warnings: this fic deals with the descriptions of an abusive relationship, please contact someone if you need help <3 Reader's boyfriend threatens to hit her, but it doesn't actually happen, reader threatens him back, mentions of knives, cursing, yelling and crying. Soft fluff in the end :)

WC: 2.5k.

It was yet another night of arguing and screaming at each other.

"I don't understand why you have to trail after him everywhere he goes!" your boyfriend told you, voice reverberating inside the apartment.

You met Peter a few months ago, and then, Bad Omens was on a long and well-deserved break from touring. By default, you were on a break as well, because you worked with them.

From the beginning, Peter had a very obvious problem with Noah. You reassured him everytime that you two were just friends, but something told you he never believed you.

You met Noah before you met everyone else in the bad. You worked for another band he was friends with, and met him when he attended one of their concerts in LA.

You clicked instantly and after a while, Matt offered you a position to work for Bad Omens. Looking for new experiences, you accepted.

"What is so fucking hard to understand, Peter? I work for them for God's sake!", you yelled back from the dining room, where you were seated.

"Oh, so I'm just supposed to accept that you'll be alone with the guy who makes heart eyes at you every chance he gets?", you sighed out loud at his remark. Before you met Peter, you and Noah always had some kind of banter going on, that sometimes turned into flirting. But everytime one of you had something going on with someone, you completely stopped out of respect.

You were sure Noah hasn't flirted with you in the months you were with Peter.

"Are you seriously bringing this up again?", you asked, voice even losing it's loudness, as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Yes, I am!", he got in front of you and slammed his fist on the table, catching you off-guard and making you jump a little. "God knows what you'll be doing with him, alone on a tour bus"

You rolled your eyes at this and apparently, the action enraged him more.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, you fucking brat", he pointed a finger at you.

"I'm gonna roll my eyes as much as I want, because you're being a fucking idiot!", you stood up now. If he thought he was going to intimidate you, he was very mistaken. You were not afraid of pathetic little men like him.

"You roll my eyes at me, and I'll slap the attitude right out of you", he was seething now, trying to regain control over the situation. You could tell he was never talked to this way.

Having enough of this conversation, and Peter, you turned around and opened the kitchen drawer, grabbing a butcher knife and pointing it at him.

"Oh, you're gonna hit me? I'd like to see you fucking try", you could see the surprise on his face as you exteded the knife towards his face.

"Wh-What are you doing?", he stammered a little over his words. You wanted to laugh.

"You think you're the only who can threaten people? News flash-alert, you're not"

You can hear your heart beating wildly in your chest, your blood pumping through your veins. Sure, you were able to hold your own, but what if he decides to not leave you alone? What are you gonna do? You're not sure you had the courage to ACTUALLY stab someone.

You looked around for your phone, seeing that it was forgotten on the other side of the living room. So calling 911 was not an option right now.

"Put the knife down and let's talk about his a little more calmly", he said, voice lower than before, putting his hands up and walking slowly towards you.

"I don't want to talk any longer. I want you out of my apartment", you tried to keep your voice even, but you could hear a little tremble of nervousness seep through.

"I always knew this was going to end like this", he scoffed. "You're going to call him once I leave aren't you? I should've known you were a whore the first time I met you", he looked at you with complete disdain written on his face. If you weren't so eager to get this man to leave your place, you would give him a few choice words.

Your apartment was always your safe haven. You were very particular about who you would let come into your place. And right now, you were wishing you were anywhere but here, with Peter in your face and you having to pull a knife on him.

"I want you to leave!", you exclaimed. He just shook his head and turned around, walking towards your front door.

You held the knife still in your hands, not being able to anticipate his next move. He could just leave, but he could also turn around and lunge himself at you. So you stayed rooted to your place.

Without another word, he twisted the door knob and left your apartment, slamming the door behind him, which caused you to jump a little.

Waiting a few seconds to make sure he wasn't coming back, you walked over to the window in your living room, and observed as he got into his car and drove away into the streets.

Letting out a huge sigh, you locked the door and grabbed your phone from the center table.

Now that he was gone, your hands were shaking and you could barely hold the phone in your hands. Tears started to well in your eyes from how intense the situation had just been.

Taking a few deep breaths, you were able to find Noah's contact and click on the call button. It ringed a couple of times before his voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, sweetheart. What's up?", his voice was light and he greeted you in a cheerful tone. Listening to him speak brought you a sense of comfort, but it also made you completely break. Finally feeling safe enough to let your emotions consume you. So you let out a broken sob.

"Noah", you were able to mutter his name in the middle of your cries.

"Y/N, what's wrong. Why are you crying?", his voice was alarmed now, and he repetead the question when you didn't answer him.

"Can you come over?", you asked.

"I'm already gettin in the car. Please tell what happened", he pleaded with you, and you could hear the sound from the engine of his car.

"It's Peter"

Noah felt his body go cold at your words. He couldn't say he ever liked the man, but he never thought about the possibility of him hurting you.

"What about Peter? What did that motherfucker do to you?", he hit the gas pedal a little harder, wanting to get to you as soon as he can.

"It's not what you're thinking. Just get here, please", your small and resignated voice broke him, and he soften up a little.

"I'm almost there, ok? Do you want me to stay on the line?", he asked you, taking a right turn and he was about 5 minutes way from your place now.

"Yes, please", you answered, voice a little calmer, but he could tell you were tired, emotionally exhausted.

"Ok, I'm 5 minutes away. Did you lock the door? Where are you?", he wanted to keep you talking, he wanted to hear your voice and know you were somewhat ok for now.

"I saw him leave and then I locked the front door. I'm in the living room"

"I'm pulling up outside right now, can you buzz me in?", he asked and he could hear you get up from your spot. He saw you in the living room window from where he parked in front of your place.

He got out of the car and then went up to your apartment. He found the door unlocked already when he twisted the knob.

A soon as he made his way inside, you were throwing yourself into his arms. He hugged you back, but tried to look around the place from over your shoulders. That's when he spotted the knife sitting on the center table in your living room. A chill ran up his spine, as he distanced himself from you, and looked over your body for any signs of injury.

"I'm ok. I'm not hurt", you tried to comfort him.

"Y/N. Why is there a knife over there?", he asked, desperately needing you to explain that the hell happened.

"Peter came over", you started, making your way to the couch and sitting down. Noah followed after you and sat beside you. "We had an argument because of the upcoming tour".

You didn't want to give him the details of the argument. Didn't wanna tell him about Peter's jealousy and how he told you that Noah gave you heart eyes all the time.

Deep down, you knew that Peter's accusations were not completely unfounded. You did catch Noah's eyes from across the room from time to time, as if you were always searching for each other. Always drawn to be looking for him when you were in the same room.

Whenever it happened, you could see something in his eyes that you never really had the time to unpack what it meant. He was not only your friend, but he was your co-worker as well. And you couldn't imagine the way involving yourself with him could damage the dinamic you already had.

"An argument because of tour?", he asked, confused. Why would Peter start an argument because of your job?

"Yeah"

"And the knife?", he pressed. He could tell there was something you were not telling him.

"Well, it escalated. He got a little agitated and I had to grab the knife to defend myself if needed", you said, but you could see in his eyes that he was not buying this.

"So, he started an argument because of tour, got angry and you had the grab a knife?", he summarized what you just told him, and you nodded in agreement. "What is it that you're not telling me?".

"That was all", you shrugged your shoulders, but diverted your gaze from his.

"No, it's not. You're hiding something from me, and I don't understand why you would do that", he was getting frustrated now. He wanted to help you, but how could he when you wouldn't tell him the truth?

"I don't know what you want me to say. That was literally it"

"I want you to tell me the truth", he was being direct, while you were trying to avoid him. You really didn't need another argument right now.

"I'm telling you the truth", you put your hands up in surrender.

"Was it about me?", he asked, bluntly. You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Was the argument about me?", he repeated the question.

"Why would the argument be about you?", you shot back. He sighed and ran his hands over his face.

"You don't think I notice the way Peter looks at me? He fucking despises me. And I happen to be the person you're going on tour with", he said, with a sarcastic chuckle. "So, tell me. Was the argument about me?"

You could try, but you knew you couldn't lie to him any longer. You didn't want to anyway, you hated hiding things from him.

"Yeah, it was", you admitted.

Noah didn't know how he felt about that. Did Peter hate him that much to start an argument in which you had to grab a knife to defend yourself?

"He kept telling me how he didn't trust me going on tour with you. How he didn't trust us together in a tour bus", you rolled your eyes when you said this. "Then I got angry at him, and he got angry at me. He threatened to hit me, so grabbed the knife and pointed it at him"

"He threatened to hit you?", he asked, getting slightly agitated at the idea of a man trying to hit you.

"He said he was going to slap the attitude out of me", you chuckled darkly, remembering the look on Peter's face when he said this.

Noah got up and started to pace the room. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to relieve the agitation and anger running through his body.

"You're so much better than I am, because I would've stabbed that motherfucker. Who the fuck does he think he is?", he said, shaking his head.

"I'm ok. He left and I'm pretty I'm never seeing him again", you got up and put a hand on his arm, feeling how wound up he was.

"He better never come around again", he stated, a hidden promise in his words. "I'm just glad he didn't lay a hand on you", he grabbed your face in his hands, running his thumb over your cheeks.

"He said something though, that stuck with me", you said in a lower voice. Not really sure if you wanted to bring this up.

"What was it?", he matched your tone of voice.

"He said you make heart eyes at me from across the room", you gave him a timid smile, looking at him through your lashes.

"Damn it. Then I wasn't as subtle as I thought", he kept stroking your cheeks, now sporting a cheeky smile on his face. "I'm sorry though. I knew you were in a relationship and I should've stopped. Maybe if I had, this argument wouldn't have happened"

"It happened because Peter is an insecure and small man. It's not on you that he feels thereatened by your presence", you tried to reassure him. "I might have reciprocated the looks one time or two anyway"

He smiled at you, and a silence fell over you for a few seconds, before he spoke up again.

"After this Peter thing, I don't want you dating any of these man", he told you, but you could tell he had something else to say, so you kept quiet and let him go on. "I want you to be with me. I want you to be mine. I don't want to hide the way I look at you, or the way I feel about you anymore. I want everyone to know how fucking smitten I am with you"

You let his words sink in. The words you've been wanting to hear for so long but didn't know how much you actually needed it until now.

"I don't want anyone else anymore. I don't want anyone else but you", you admitted. "You don't have to hide anything anymore". You get up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

His hands moved from your face to your hips, pulling you closer to his body while he deepened the kiss. His lips felt so good against yours, the perfect balance between roughness and softness. It was even better than how you imagined kissing Noah would be.

After parting, trying to regain your breaths.

"This tour is about to be so good", he looked you in the eyes and said. You laughed at his remark and planted your lips against his once again.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens imagine #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #bad omens fluff #bad omens one shot #bad omens headcanons #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian headcanons #requested

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