#well. that’s for me to find out eventually. maybe. or maybe not

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | three.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut

—WORD COUNT: 6.6k

—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, dinner w/ yeosang!, feelings are laid out oof, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, a bit more of jiwoo vs. wooyoung, use of pet names (princess, love, baby girl, baby), lots and lots of kissing, making out, mentions of marking, some dry humping, unprotected sex, slow sweet sex??, wooyoung pulls out 🫢

So, you agree to the dinner with Yeosang but you don't expect how terrible it ends up playing out.

At first, it starts off well.

It felt like dinner wouldn't be so bad, and you enjoyed seeing Yeosang being his usual self from the car ride up to the restaurant. When he pulls into a spot in the parking lot and helps you out of the car, there is a bit of a difference in Yeosang's attitude. He slides his hand into yours as he leads the way into the restaurant and as much as you adore your bestfriend, it feels incredibly unnatural. 

It surely doesn't feel like Wooyoung's, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

He continues to loosely hold your hand until the host brings you to a table near the back end of the restaurant. You didn't think tonight's dinner would be so fancy, but you were in your business casual attire straight out of work; it ended up working out well in the end. You scoot into the booth, with Yeosang on the other side. He immediately orders a bottle of white wine, which isn't really to your liking as you've learned, but you'll make do with what you have— especially to get through this dinner.

You order appetizers along with your main courses, indulging in good conversation with Yeosang as he tells you work updates and how he's being dragged to this really important meeting over the weekend with the board of directors by his team lead. 

It's all good. It's all fun and casual, until it isn't.

Meanwhile, Jiwoo stops by her brother's apartment to drop off some sushi from his favorite Japanese restaurant. It's her way of saying 'thank you' without actually having to say it out loud.

"What now?" Wooyoung swings his door open to see his sister standing there with a bag of food.

"Hi to you, too." She drops it on his kitchen counter. "Bought you food from Sushi Kashiwa." 

"Aw, just say it." He pretends to pout while she gives him a disgusted look and unties the bag.

"No. Besides, I bought myself some food and am gonna enjoy it right here." She lays out the containers and grabs her own. "My friends decided to leave me out of a very important dinner tonight."

"What are you talking about?" He pops open the lid to his sushi container and wastes no time digging in.

"Y/N went to dinner with Yeosang. I guess to talk about stuff going on between them, I don't know." Wooyoung pauses mid-chew, the statement hitting him right in his gut. He's not sure why he's sad— maybe he's right after all. Maybe this just ended up being a temporary one night thing that would eventually wash away.

Sucks it doesn't necessarily feel that way for Wooyoung.

He can't assume, though. Hopefully, you're talking to Yeosang and giving him the honest 'i think we should just stay friends' talk instead of the 'let's just see where this goes' talk. He'd appreciate the universe if it could give him this one thing; he'll stop running his parents' last nerve and will never look at a booty ever again.

Maybe.

"Oh." Is all Wooyoung says before stuffing another piece into his mouth. "Why would you even be there, Jiwoo? That doesn't concern you."

"Anything with my friends concerns me."

"Let them talk it out without your loud, nosey ass interrupting." She rolls her eyes, scrolling through her phone as she also continues to eat.

"I haven't gotten any new texts from her. I wonder if it's going well. Maybe they're gonna explore this after all."

"Who says?" Wooyoung responds a little too quickly, a little too sharply, for his liking. His sister doesn't seem to catch on, though. That's great.

"I dunno, beats me. I'm just taking all angles into consideration."

"Stop projecting. She seemed to be pretty set on her decision at the party."

"You never know." She says in a sing-song tone that irks Wooyoung a little more than usual this evening. "You're right, though. She is set on her decision. I just hope he takes it well." She sets her phone aside. "Anyway. How'd you like the party?"

"Gotta admit, it was fun."

"You really looked like Y/N's date. I had a few people ask me if you two were dating."

"Uh, I mean I was her date? And why would they ask when I already told them yes?" He jokes, just to push his sister's buttons.

"No way." Jiwoo continues to eat away at her food, texting Hongjoong in the midst of it. "Y/N is too good for you."

"No one is too good for anyone. Don't speak on shit you don't know."

"I know her!"

"And I know her, too!"

"I know her the best." Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

"Still doesn't mean you know everything about her."

"Ew, why are you getting so defensive tonight?" He shakes his head, feeling the irritation within him grow the more Jiwoo presses it. He knows he isn't the best man to walk this Earth, but he also knows he'd be good to you. Good for you. He's been thinking about it a lot and he hates that he is— none of this makes sense to him, but he knows he'd be good.

"Don't you have to go see Hongjoong?"

"Once he's off, yeah." Jiwoo sips on her water. "What're you doing tonight? Getting into more shit with Choi San?"

"No, he's actually visiting his parents."

"Hm." She hums. "No booty call coming over?"

"No. Even if there was, you would not be getting that information." She scoffs.

"Grow up, Wooyoung."

"Grow up, Wooyoung." He mocks her. "Says the one who made the wild claim based off of nothing."

"You're so annoying." She tosses her sushi container into his trash before washing her cup of water. Despite their usual bickering, Jiwoo stays for a bit longer until Hongjoong texts her and lets her know he's finally off of work after putting in some overtime. Jiwoo helps tidy up Wooyoung's space before she's waving goodbye [aka flipping him off] and slamming his door shut. Wooyoung plops back onto his couch with the remainder of his food resting on the coffee table, scrolling through his phone. He goes through your texts, wondering if he should say anything or keep silent. He smiles to himself when he sees the pictures you've passed along from the photographer. He sees you've posted the picture with him on your Instagram and it tugs at his heart because not only do you rarely use Instagram, but you took that opportunity to post your pictures from the party— including the one where you've got your hand resting on his chest while he has an arm around you. He was happy to see you happy and comfortable. Having fun. 

You glowed. 

He'll never forget it.

—OLD TEXTS

you: hi! they uploaded the pics from the party!

you: *sends a group of pics at once*

wooyoung: yo goddamn!? we look good!

wooyoung: you look so pretty. 😍

you: 😀 stop !!

wooyoung: i'm so serious, good LORD. 😮‍💨

you: i'm blocking you.....

wooyoung: woah now, hey i'm kiddddding....

wooyoung: not really! but don't block me! i just can't help it!

you: you're too much 😂

wooyoung: can i post these?

you: go for it!

wooyoung: thank you ☺️

He sighs as he reaches the end of the thread.

He won't say anything. He'll let this unfold as it should, but it doesn't mean he can't be sad about it. Cause he sure as hell is and he's a bit anxious. Hopefully, you'll tell Yeosang the truth. Hopefully, you won't force yourself into anything you don't want or feel uncomfortable with.

As for you, the dinner really takes its turn for the worse after you and Yeosang eat away at your main meals, a pregnant silence falling between you two after a good hour of just talking and yapping away about life. You already knew it was coming at this point, you were just hoping you'd buy a little more time [as if you could put it off even more]. 

"So." He says awkwardly to cut the silence.

"Mhm?"

"Did you really enjoy the party?"

"I did. Did you?"

"Yeah. I just—" He looks at you with his head cocked to the side. "I was just surprised seeing you with Wooyoung." You pause before poking at your pasta and taking a small bite. 

"Oh yeah, it was relatively last minute."

"Jiwoo's plan?"

"Why do you say that? Do you genuinely think Wooyoung wouldn't go with me?" You ask, a little offended at the way he sounds cause even though it was clearly planned and arranged, the insinuation from Yeosang doesn't hurt any less. 

"No, not like that— I'm sorry, it came out of nowhere and caught me off guard. That's all." You cock a brow up. 

"It just happened that way. Wooyoung wanted to go and I wanted to go in the end." Is all you respond with, chugging your second glass of wine before pouring yourself more. You really don't like the taste of this white wine either, but you'll take it cause it's better than sitting here without an ounce of alcohol to push you through. Give you more courage to finish the evening on a decent note, to be honest. "I had a really fun time, regardless."

"I saw." He pauses. "I wish you would've at least told me instead of showing up like that." 

"I'm sorry."

"I think it's time for me to be honest and stop watching from the sidelines because I.. really like you, Y/N." His shoulders droop just as he sets his fork and knife down neatly onto the plate. You take the last bite of your meal before sipping on more wine to wash it down.

"I should have told you, but I didn't want to hurt you. Even if I did tell you, it wouldn't have changed anything."

"It wouldn't? Why wouldn't it have changed anything? I thought we might've had a chance." He's confused. He looks like he was expecting a completely different outcome, and that might've been your fault for not telling him right away. But, the moment is here now and you know you can't push it off any longer.

"No. I just.. I just can't, Yeo. I'm sorry." You barely get yourself to respond out of fear. You knew Yeosang wasn't the type to react— if anything, he'd be the most understanding. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you were still scared. You felt bad. You didn't want to hurt him, and you wanted to avoid this confrontation as much as possible even though you knew you needed to face it sooner than later. "I truthfully think we're good with where we're at, and I don't think we should mess that up. I love the way we are as good friends, bestfriends, and that's how I've always seen us." You can see the disappointment growing on his face every second, but he's trying hard to keep it under wraps while he briefly waves the waitress down for the check.

"C-can I ask? You can be honest." You silently nod. "Is it Wooyoung?" You shake your head.

"It was never about Wooyoung. Just us. Well, me. You're amazing, and you deserve the best. You deserve someone who is sure about you and who will reciprocate those feelings to no end. I'm sorry that I can't be that person, but at the same time, I know I can be your friend just like I always have been. That's what I can give you, and I hope you understand." You tell him softly. "I'm sorry." You repeat, feeling the tears brimming your bottom lids. "I should've opened up earlier. I really hope this doesn't change things between us."

"It won't, but I hope you understand it'll take me some time to move past it. I'm sorry for assuming or for— yeah." He shakes his thoughts away.

"Take all the time you need." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

"Anyway." Yeosang signs off on the receipt before tucking his card back into his wallet and standing. "Let's get you home."

"Okay." You shimmy out of the booth to head out of the restaurant. This time, Yeosang doesn't hold your hand. In fact, he trails behind you, keeping at a safe distance. You can immediately see the change— how stiff and awkward he's become. You don't blame him for it; he's hurting and you know he needs his space more than anything. 

You can't wait to get home.

The ride is fucking awful. It's the most quiet you've seen Yeosang. The most closed-off and serious he's ever been towards you. His hand is clutching the wheel tightly, but the music is comforting enough to fill the void. You continue to look out of the passenger's window, keeping to yourself until Yeosang asks about your plans for the rest of the weekend. There isn't much going on for you, so that conversation dies quickly. Luckily for you, Yeosang is about to pull up to your street. He stops the car by your building, shifting the gear to park before helping you out of the car. You give him a small, sympathetic smile before pulling him into a hug— giving his back a gentle rub.

"Sleep well, alright? I'll see you next week."

"You too." With that, he walks off, waiting until you at least unlock and crack your door open. When you get a whiff of your candle that you lit up earlier in the morning, you realize you don't really wanna stay home right now; to sulk, to drown in your thoughts alone, to have to listen to the loudness in a quiet space. So, you shut the door again, head back down the steps and walk to the convenience store nearby. You grab a bottle of yogurt soju, along with your favorite chips and strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar— plopping yourself down onto one of the tables right outside the store. You're quick to crack open the bottle and drink away, also eating away at the chips since you didn't feel incredibly satisfied with the dinner earlier. It might've just been all the emotions and tension in the air, but anywho, the chips and the soju taste better than ever. Sooner or later, you find yourself tipsier, cheeks lit on fire, hands clammy; barely hitting the halfway point with the soju bottle. You lazily scroll through your phone as you begin to eat away at the ice cream bar, revisiting those party pictures.

You wonder what Wooyoung is doing, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

"Ugh." You whine and pout to yourself, pulling up your texts to see if Jiwoo can come to your rescue. You opted for listing Jiwoo and Wooyoung as Jung 1 and Jung 2 to keep it easy and simple; except, it obviously doesn't work well in this case when you accidentally pull up the text with Jung 2 instead of Jung 1 while you wipe away at the tears that suddenly begin to stream down your cheeks.

you: oof .... that dinner was kinda awful i feel terrible

you: kinda?! not even kinda it WAS awfullll

you: i'm sitting outside of our fav convenience store by my olace

you: eating strawberry cheesecake ice cfream!!

you: jiwooooooo

you: jung 1!!!!

Wooyoung furrows his brows at the constant dinging of his phone, unsure of who the hell could be blowing up his phone right now. He even sits for a minute, wondering if there's anybody he's pissed off in the last few days [besides his sister].

"Hm." He hums when he comes up with nothing, nobody. He picks up the phone and scrolls through the previews, chuckling to himself when he sees your name pop up on the screen. Clearly by accident.

you: jiwoo jung 1 pls help come to my rescue it was not good! idk if yeo n i will be friens still ☹️☹️☹️

wooyoung: sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but this is jung 2. 😙

wooyoung: also i won't hold it against you that i've been slotted as number 2 when i should be number 1 esp after the party. 🫤 but it's cool or whatever......

You squint at the brightness of your phone, slowly eating away at your strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar. You almost drop the damn thing when you realize you've actually been blowing up the wrong phone, horrified it had to be Wooyoung, too.

He must think you're a gem, truly.

He does, though. In a very good, non-sarcastic way.

you: omggg i'm so sorry wooyoung jung 2 ☹️

you: i mean jung 1 technically

wooyoung: lol no worries, don't be sorry. you okay?

you: yes but no?

wooyoung: stay put.

You cock a brow up in confusion, wondering if Wooyoung was telling you to stay put because he was on his way or because he just needed you to get yourself together. You listen anyway, sitting on the little chair outside of the convenience store, silently eating away at your ice cream with your phone lit on your lap. You completely forget about texting Jiwoo amidst all of this, assuming she's busy anyway. The wind is slowly picking up, cooling the tip of your nose and surface of your cheeks— settling the heat from the soju.  You shiver and run a hand down your arm, hoping the wind slows in between its waves. You continue to mindlessly scroll through your phone, even picking up your game of Wordle for the day. Just as you get lost in thought, a car parks in a spot in between your building and the convenience store. You look up as you bite into the last of your ice cream bar, hearing the muffled bass from the music in the car. Wooyoung steps out in a grey hoodie and matching sweats, a black beanie on his head. He approaches you with a small smile with his hands dug deep into his pockets, crouching to your level as he continues to look at you.

"W-Wooyoung." You hiccup as you sit on the bench, setting your trash down next to you. Wooyoung gives you a small smile, thumb wiping away at your tears.

"Wanna tell me why you've been out here eating ice cream alone?" He eyes your snacks of choice. "And.. a half bottle of soju and chips? I thought you had dinner with Yeosang."

"I did, and it was terrible and sad." You sniff. "Well, not the food. I just couldn't enjoy it as much. I even tried to drink that bitter white wine he ordered just to get me through."

"And you're drinking soju now? Really must have been that bad."

"Bad bad." You pout and he laughs.

"I'm sorry." He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze before patting it. "Come on, let's get you home." He stands, holding out his hand. You gladly take it in yours, his thumb swiping over your knuckles in an attempt to try and warm it up. He grabs the soju and the chips in his other, leading the way to your building. He quietly heads up the steps, stepping aside and letting go of your hand to let you open your door. When you step back into the warmth of your studio, you instantly kick off your shoes and slip into your slippers—lighting up your candle to bring more heat into the room.

"I'm gonna set your chips and soju aside." Wooyoung says, tightly tying your chips close so it doesn't get stale before setting your bottle of soju aside in the fridge.

"Thank you." You set your bag down and let out a sigh.

"Glad I was able to get you home safely." He chuckles a bit, jingling his keys in his hand. You don't want Wooyoung to leave, especially after he made the effort to get dressed and come to your rescue.

"Wooyoung?" He cocks a brow up when you turn to face him. "Can you stay?" He takes a moment before he nods, unsure how he could turn you down with you looking up at him that way. 

So innocently. So delicately. Eyes yearning for company you can be comforted with, need to be comforted with.

"Yeah, of course. As long as you're okay with me poking around and making some food." You giggle and nod.

"Go for it." You grab your pajamas. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Feel free to get comfortable and flip through the channels." You turn on the TV for him before shutting yourself within the bathroom walls to shower and get comfy for the evening. 

As you shower and get ready for bed that evening, you hear Wooyoung humming and singing a Blackstreet song to himself in your kitchen. After brushing your teeth, you finish up the last of your skincare routine before heading back outside.

"Finally." Wooyoung turns over his shoulder and quickly scans you from head to toe. "I was getting lonely."

"I didn't even take that long."

"It was long. You and Jiwoo take the longest showers known to man." He frowns a bit, making you giggle to yourself. You plop on your couch, now in your oversized crewneck and pajama pants. You're no longer tipsy, probably a little too sober for your liking especially knowing Wooyoung is in your studio. You do find his company comforting, though. You feel bad he had to come and rescue you, but you'd rather be here than anywhere else after that dinner with Yeosang. You tuck your legs to your chest, flipping through the tv channels only to land on Kiki's Delivery Service. It's already 20 minutes in, but it doesn't bother you knowing the movie so well. Wooyoung is still going through your stash of food, pulling out a bowl of jajangmyeon. While he waits for the hot water to properly cook the noodles, he dices up some pickled radish and some cucumbers, and quickly boils two eggs to perfection. When the noodles are done, he sets everything into the bowl neatly before grabbing a cold water bottle and plopping onto the couch next to you.

"What'd you do today?" You look at him just as he starts digging into the bowl.

"Work. Then Jiwoo came earlier in the night with some food from my favorite Japanese spot."

"Sushi Kashiwa?"

"Aw, you know?" Wooyoung smirks.

"Because Jiwoo has mentioned it one too many times." You chuckle. "That's cute, though."

"She only did it cause she was waiting for Hongjoong to get out of work. And to kiss my ass about the party."

"And because she loves you." He fake shivers.

"Ew. Please don't say that again." He looks at you and you snort. "Want a bite? I made it for us to share in case you were still hungry." He edges his chopsticks your way, watching as you shake your head in response.

"I'm good. Thank you though, Woo."

"Suit yourself, princess. I whipped up a good one." You laugh, settling into the couch as you continue to watch the movie. Wooyoung catches you slipping your sleeves over your palms in his peripherals and although he's pretty warm and cozy in your studio, you must still feel cold. He hurriedly slurps up the remaining of the noodles before gulping the entirety of his water bottle down. He lets out a noise that makes you laugh, kicking his head back in satisfaction. "Damn, that was good."

"Glad you enjoyed." You poke his arm and he smiles. "Is this movie okay with you?"

"Yeah, of course. Can never go wrong with Studio Ghibli movies. Unless, you're down to watch something scary?"

"Never." 

"Why not? I'm here."

"But, whatever scary movie we'll watch, it'll live in my head for the next few days and you won't be here."

"I could be, you just have to call me and I'll come. Like tonight."

"Wooyoung." You pout. "Today's was an accident."

"So, you didn't want me to come? That's funny, cause I didn't see another text from you after I told you to stay put, baby girl." He smirks and you shake your head shyly.

"I'm sorry." You continue to fiddle with your sleeves.

"Don't be. I'm just teasing, I wanted to come."

"Thank you. I needed it." You finally manage to let out as you look at him and scooch a little closer. He gives you a tiny smile before shifting his attention back to the TV, the both of you engaging in small talk about the characters here and there.

At some point, Wooyoung subtly inches in and closes off any gaps, quietly slipping his arm behind you. You silently chuckle to yourself when you see him playing it off, acting as if he hadn't done anything to get closer to you. But, the whole thing feels.. nice. It feels safe. It feels warm. Wooyoung really isn't expecting anything out of this— he is testing the waters to see how comfortable you'd be with him, but that's truly it. That's the intention. Just to make you feel comfortable and better after tonight's dinner. He definitely wasn't expecting you to lean your head against him, snuggling up to him as closely as possible. 

"You okay? Comfortable?" He asks softly. You look up at him and nod, settling back into your position on him.

"Mhm. You're warm." He laughs a bit when he hears that, keeping you close. As the movie continues with the both of you watching silently, you find yourself shifting in your position; arm fully coming around Wooyoung's torso. He doesn't mind one bit. As a matter of fact, he loves that you've gotten comfortable enough to do so.

He drops his arm down from the edge of the couch, holding you from behind as the movie continues to play. He gently rubs at your side before his hand falls to your hips. You feel Wooyoung's hand gently squeeze at it before sneaking right underneath your sweater. You freeze, but more so because you're surprised by his touch— not because you don't want him to be right where he is.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I don't know. I just feel bad." You say, eyes still on the TV ahead while you slowly began to relax in his hold.

"You were honest with him, right?" Wooyoung asks as a simple way to poke for more information and get you to open up about dinner. "Wanna tell me how the dinner went?" He traces faint, soft circles on your bare side.

"I was, and I guess that's why I feel bad. It started off fine. We went to the restaurant and we were talking as we always do. Random topics, jokes, going on about life updates. It went downhill when we got our food. It was quiet for a little bit and I knew he was thinking about what to say or how to say it." You pause. "He asked if I enjoyed the party. I said yes, then he asked if it was Jiwoo's plan." Wooyoung cocks a brow.

"What'd you say?"

"I got kinda defensive." You sigh, leaving out the whole moment of you asking Yeo if he thought Wooyoung wouldn't genuinely go to a party with you. "But anyway, I said you wanted to go.. and so did I. And I had a fun time with you."

"Atta girl." He laughs a bit. "And then?"

"He apologized and said he just wished I told him instead of surprisingly showing up. Then.. he laid it out. Said he had feelings for me and couldn't watch on the sidelines anymore. He felt like there could've been a chance, which was probably my fault for keeping that door open for too long." You sit up and face him, Wooyoung's arm still lazily holding you from behind. "I told him that even if I told him about the party beforehand, it wouldn't have changed anything because I couldn't. I liked us the way we were and that we were good as bestfriends. He deserved someone who was sure of him and who could reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly."

"Then, you didn't do anything wrong, Y/N." You shrug before subconsciously grabbing a piece of lint on Wooyoung's hoodie and flicking it off. 

"He asked something else."

"Which was?"

"He asked if this was about you, a-and I said no." You avoid eye contact and lick your lips out of nervousness. 

"I see." Wooyoung smiles a bit before shifting up in his seat to get closer to you. He leans his cheek onto the palm of his hand, his arm that was behind you is now on the back of the couch— elbow resting on the edge. "Why can't you look at me?" He smirks teasingly.

"I am." You look at him for a minute before shifting your eyes elsewhere in the living room. 

"Was it really not about me, hm?" He hums, brushing the hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear. "You can tell me, love." He tries to pull you closer by the hand, and you let him.

"Can I?" His eyes quickly shift to the way you play around with his fingers.

"Course."

"Maybe it was."

"Just maybe?" He looks at your lips. "You think that's why you feel bad?" Brief pause. "That you might actually have feelings for me and you couldn't tell him that part?"

"Maybe." You repeat, his lips only inches away from yours. "Isn't that kinda silly?"

"No? I still don't think you did anything wrong, Y/N."

"Really, Woo?" There you go asking him so sweetly again. It's at this point when Wooyoung feels like he can no longer contain himself because you're giving him the answer he had been looking for; straight on a silver platter. 

"Mhm. As far as I know, you were honest when it came to him. What's between us is our business and not his." He says, his tone just barely above a whisper. You don't really know what comes over you, maybe you did have a little bit of liquid courage still running through your veins especially cause what happens next catches you slightly off-guard. You're so sure about your feelings for him, but unsure about Wooyoung's and how he even feels. This could all be a game that he plays, something he does with other women even if he says it isn't.

Guess it doesn't matter much right now. Can't, anyways.

Within the next second, you find yourself initiating the first kiss with Wooyoung; a kiss that feels long overdue. You lean forward and press your lips against his own soft, plump lips, quickly pulling back to get ready and apologize—

But, he doesn't let you. 

He chases after you.

He cups your cheeks and brings you back, thumb gently caressing the surface of your cheek. You haven't kissed someone like this in awhile, but with Wooyoung, it feels.. right. 

Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.

He tries to take it slow with you, even when you crawl onto his lap and wrap your arms around him. The kiss becomes more heated, lips bruising from the rising intensity, hunger. Wooyoung slowly slips his tongue in, and hearing a small whimper from you in response only has him gripping your hips harder.

He quickly learns he likes kissing you.

"Been waiting to do this." He says against your lips.

"Have you?" You ask, your tone filled with lust as you continue to peck him with small, repeated kisses.

"Just didn't wanna scare you away."

"You wouldn't have."

"Have to be extra careful with you, baby. You aren't just anybody." The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily that it makes your head tilt back as the desire builds. He continues to hold you close as you slowly roll your hips against him, Wooyoung now kissing your jaw before gently sucking and licking on the surface of your neck;

The column, your throat.

You feel him come to the base and suck a little harder, and you're hoping it doesn't leave much of a mark. If it does, it doesn't fucking matter to you right now— nothing does. Because all you want is for Wooyoung to devour you. To give you everything, to ruin you so good.

"Is this okay? I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with—"

"Keep going, Wooyoung. Please." You cut him off. It takes a second for Wooyoung to register your pleading, that 'please' being the one thing that flips his switch. It's not only a want, but a heavy craving. He's got some sort of eagerness to show you just what you've been missing.

"Hold onto me." He says, lifting you with ease as he carries you over to your bed and plops you onto the mattress. He slowly crawls over you, his warm, large hands now cascading up your sweatshirt. Your breathing hitches when he reaches just above your rib cage, and Wooyoung stops when he feels your body tense in his grip. "You sure you're okay?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, down to your nose, your lips. He looks you in the eye with slight concern, afraid of scaring you. The last thing he wants you to think is that he's purely using you for other reasons— when it's definitely more than that.

Wooyoung wants to show you, in case he's bad at voicing his feelings. Cause he can be, clearly. But, he could at least show you and take care of you properly.

"I am."

"You trust me, yeah?" You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod, continuing to keep contact with Wooyoung. "I'll take care of you as long as you let me."

"I want you to." This time, Wooyoung dips forward to lock you into another deep, fervent kiss. His hands are finally roaming further up; Wooyoung letting out a low groan when he finds out you're braless. His thumb swipes over your hardened nipple, tongues fighting for dominance while your hands are tangled in the ends of his hair. You toss his beanie off just as he starts to tug your crewneck over your head and you follow suit with his hoodie. He nibbles on your jaw just before sucking harshly on the skin of your neck. His hand travels down and slips into your pajama pants, fingers delicately rubbing at your clothed pussy that sends a million jolts down your spine. You twitch in response, and Wooyoung can't help but chuckle against your neck.

"So reactive." He teases.

"It's been awhile, Woo."

"And? That's fine, baby. Told you I'd take good care of you." He raises himself slightly to watch your reaction in real-time. "Does that feel good?" He asks, close to a whisper. 

"Yes." You bite your bottom lip and shut your eyes, sighing in satisfaction.

"God. Can feel how wet you are already." Wooyoung feels himself getting painfully hard against your thigh, imagining how tight you are. He doesn't wanna waste another moment, and he thinks he'll lose it if he isn't inside of you within the next few seconds. "Let's take this off, hm?" He hums, hands already tugging your panties and pajama pants down. "Do you have a condom?"

"Don't need it. I'm on the pill." 

"You're sure? I'm clean, but I'll do whatever you're okay with. Just say the word." He asks again to be extra sure.

"I am, I'm sure." You nod eagerly. The pill was mainly to help regulate your heavy, irregular periods, but you'd say you do appreciate it a little more now for this particular reason.

"You're so hot, jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung doesn't say anything else before he's keenly kissing you again, hastily getting out of his sweats. 

Sooner or later, the rest of Wooyoung's clothes are joining yours on the floor; Wooyoung not wasting any seconds reattaching his lips to yours after slipping them off. 

Wooyoung pauses when he sees you fixed on his length— eyes hazy and full of desire. It's giving Wooyoung the biggest fucking ego boost, but that's not important. He strokes himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. He slowly eases himself in, the both of you letting out lewd moans as you both adjust to the feeling. You're tightly wrapped around him and Wooyoung has to keep his composure as he buries himself deep to the hilt. Wooyoung keeps his pace slow and steady; forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts into you. It's nothing rushed, everything about it is slow— so tender, so careful. 

So safe.

"Wooyoung." You moan his name and his brain short-circuits every time you say it the way you do. On top of that, your little whimpers are doing a number on him, but he's trying to keep it together for awhile longer. 

"Doing so well for me, love." He gently bites your chin just as he slightly picks up his pace. He hovers a bit, lips coming back up to meet you in a sweet kiss. He holds it for a minute longer, tongue swiping over your lips as he rolls his hips into you. 

It's intimate. 

It's deep. 

It's raw. 

It's nothing he'd do to his booty calls, no. Everything about those moments are forced and rushed, the end goal having to nut as quickly as possible and get them the hell out of his space.

With you, he's loving every second. He wants to relish in the way your walls feel around him, wants to relish in the way your fingers thread through his hair, wants to relish in the way you kiss him so slowly, so passionately. Like every kiss holds the answers to the universe and you're afraid you'll miss a single detail.

He rests his nose, lips, against your cheek just as he releases a shaky breath, still taking his time as he works his way with you. He comes down to your neck and leaves feathery pecks against the surface while his body is pressed flushed against yours. He turns his head and you've fully wrapped your arms around him. The pace is perfect, with Wooyoung working his hips in circular motions just to hit you in all the right places. He praises you as you continue to moan for him, pretty little mewls slipping from your lips while he tells you how captivating, how angelic, you are for him.

How perfect you are for him.

You find your hips have a mind of their own, working to match Wooyoung's movements. You feel the pleasure building quick at your core, and you know it won't take long from there.

"Wooyoung— just like that, please—oh my god." You sob. While he continues to expertly thrust into you and keep you close, the friction against him causes the coil within you to snap harshly, nails digging deep into Wooyoung's shoulders while he thrusts harder, a bit rougher, to meet his high. 

"F-fuck, baby. I'm about to—" He moans a little louder when he feels you clench a few times around him from the aftershock, quickly pulling out and releasing onto your pussy and abdomen. "Shit—fuck." He pants, finally coming back down from euphoria to see how mesmerizing you look splayed out beneath him; white ribbons of cum painted on your skin. He's completely enamored by you. "Mm'sorry babygirl, let's get you cleaned up." You giggle and shake your head.

"Please, it's fine. Stop looking, you're making me shy again."

"Don't be. You look beautiful." He laughs, slipping on his boxers. "Let me clean you up." He runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes, doing a light jog to clean you up well. You grab your panties and your crewneck after he's done— throwing them on and snuggling under your covers. You fully expect Wooyoung to get dressed and leave [which would suck], but he doesn't. You quietly watch as he shuts off your TV and the lights, going to the bathroom for a quick wash up. Afterwards, he immediately slips underneath your covers right next to you, pulling you onto his chest.

"You're staying?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckles. "C'mere." He pulls you closer. "Sleepy?"

"Incredibly." He smiles.

"I put in some work, huh?"

"Wooyoung." You pout, lightly smacking his chest.

"I'm just joking." He subtly bites his lip. "Can I have one more kiss before we sleep?" You lean up and peck him on the lips a few times, with Wooyoung holding the last kiss before pulling away. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight." You mumble, falling asleep within seconds as you cuddle snuggly against him. Because with Wooyoung, it feels.. right.

Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys. 

   You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there. 

   When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years. 

   Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

   Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

   Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

   You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

   He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room. 

   Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

   You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

   And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

   Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

   “You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel. 

   “Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol. 

   “Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

   Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

   Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love. 

   Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

   Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

   It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch. 

   He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

   After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies. 

   Right to you.

—

   Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you. 

   Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you. 

   You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.  

   This is a good sign.

   When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body. 

   He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

   You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

   It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

  “Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.  

   “Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

   “‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

   Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

   Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

   He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

   “My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

   “Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face. 

   God, he’s so handsome.

   “Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

   He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

   “Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question. 

   He just asked you to dance.

   “Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

   “You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

   “Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

   “Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him. 

   “Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

   “Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

   “Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it. 

   Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

   He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

   The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly. 

   The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet. 

   You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

   “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

   “And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you. 

   “Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

   “Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

   “The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

   “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.” 

   “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh. 

   “I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

   “Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love. 

   “And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman. 

   He’s fucking perfect. 

   He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

   “So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

   “Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

   “Me?” you ask, taken aback. 

   “Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

   “There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

   “Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

   “Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

   “That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

   “No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

   “S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

   “I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

   “No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

   “Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

   “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

   “Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

   “Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

   You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

   He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

   “If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

   He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

   “I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

   You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

   He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

   Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?” 

   “Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

   “You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

   “Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

   You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

   He’s perfect. 

   “So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

   “I’m a vet assistant.”

   “Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips. 

   “Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

   He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him. 

   “So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

   “Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

   “My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now. 

   “Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms. 

   “Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage. 

   He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

   Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too. 

   “You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

   You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.” 

   “You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

   “You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue. 

   He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

   “Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

   “S’right. My cowgirl.”

   My cowgirl. 

   Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin. 

   As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings. 

   You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him. 

   “Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into  a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

   Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

   He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy. 

   Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

   Lovely lady May.

   His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too. 

   As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere. 

   His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

   He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you. 

   But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May. 

   His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

   One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

   “Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

   “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

   “And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

   “I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

   You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

   He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame. 

   His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue. 

   And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

   Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

   He’s all you know now. 

   You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

   He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

   And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

   He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could. 

   After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own. 

   You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common. 

   It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you. 

   He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

   “So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight. 

   He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart. 

   “Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls. 

   “That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

   “Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

   “All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

   “All yours,” you confirm.

   He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole. 

   This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away. 

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

[dilf-rot]

Avoidant Attachment

based on Anon request :  could you do a fic of meeting Logan and wade in the void and joining the team? Logan and you are into each other but are kinda awkward hide behind being mean to each other wades so over it later on smuttt <3333

Word Count: 5841 

Tags: Wolverine x Reader, Worst!Wolverine x Reader, Logan howlett x Reader, Fem!Reader (kinda?), Wade is here too, Meeting in the Void, Deadpool 3, Deadpool and Wolverine, Laura is Also here, 5 people in a one bedroom apartment is a great idea, Althea is here briefly, dogpool mention, slower burn but like not really, mutual pining, Wade and Laura as wingmen, insults as flirting, eventual smut, One bed trope included, P in V, Riding

AN: This one took a lot longer than I was expecting, probably since I haven’t written Wade before and I didn’t want it to suck, and also because I was quite busy irl. Regardless, thank you for the request and your patience, Hope you don’t mind my interpretation of the prompt<3

MDNI 18+

—------------------

The Void. Boring as Hell, and yet somehow worse than hell. At least Hell would grant you company, shitty company, but better than the dust and trash here. You don’t even remember why you got put here. Probably some bullshit you weren’t even responsible for. You had a pretty lame set up, just a hole in the ground really. And you’d find garbage to shift through, look for food. You had managed to do pretty well on your own for a decent amount of time. Other than being lonely, and the occasional breakdown, things weren’t so bad.

The air was stale and unremarkable, as was the sky, no sign of oncoming doom or any excitement for the day. Or so you thought. 

Over the horizon of dusty dirt and forgotten garbage, appeared two silhouettes. 

As they approached, inching closer and closer you debated on whether you should interact or just ignore, they didn’t seem like they had been here long. 

You watched closely waiting for your moment to make a move. Listening to them as they approached.

Deadpool. Common, usually annoying. 

But the one with him. That’s a rather rare sight. You had never seen one of him before.

They seemed like they were on a mission, maybe trying to escape from here. If you could escape, maybe you could return to something approaching a normal life again. 

You decide to take the chance.

“Hello,” You pop out from your little shelter. Both men jolt into action, blades and guns drawn. The man in yellow, the interesting rare man, had blades coming out of his hands. “Oh no, not a threat.” 

They regard each other and then put the weapons away.

“Knew I smelt something,” his voice was rough and it added to his appeal for sure. 

“And you didn’t want to say anything? Some blood hound you are!” Deadpool spoke, punching the gruff one in the shoulder.

“Sorry, I know you’re a Deadpool. But you are?” You point to him. 

“Logan,” “Wolverine,” they speak out in tandem. 

“Right, so… what’re you doing this far out?” 

“Not telling you random dirt dweller,” Deadpool looked back towards Logan, and seemed to be weighing his options.

“Ok well, if you decide to be friendly I could offer my help.”

“You don’t look like you’d be of much help,” Logan retorted as he looked you over. You were obviously smaller and not as strong as either of them, but you had some tricks up your sleeve.

“Ouch, I would be offended if you didn’t have hair like kitty ears.” You pointed up at Logan’s hair and he seemed surprised by your response. “I’ve been in the void longer than you, I’m sure I know some things that would be useful to you,”

“Listen, Kid-”

“Yeah, me and Kitty Cat here are trying to get back at that bald freak show of a woman and escape this hell. So unless you know how to do that, I’d stay out of it, dust bunny.” 

You laugh and look at the state of them, confused but still combative, barely holding it together and hardly friends. “That’s a good one. Good luck with Cassandra then, Ketchup and Mustard.”

Deadpool gasps and Logan seems to have the inklings of a smile on his face but it quickly fades when you turn to look at him. You sit down on a nearby piece of rubble and watch as they take a few steps away and start to argue about what the plan is. You smile and wave when they look back at you.

“Ok, so what do you know?” Deadpool asks, rushing back up to you. And so you do your best to fill him in on as much as you know about the void itself and Cassandra. All of which seems to not be that useful to him as he just sort of brushes it off and continues, “Well as much as I’d love to have you on the team sunshine, seems like Wolvie over there isn’t too keen on it.” He points over to Logan, who turns away and kicks some dust and debris around. “But, between you and me, he’s just bad with girls. Especially pretty ones with quick mouths.” 

You blush a bit but return a quick retort, “That’s fine, not like I have anything to escape back to anyway. Good luck, random Deadpool.”

“It’s Wade.” 

“Right,” You wave as he runs back to Logan. You imagined it wouldn’t be that long before you see them again, mostly because you had planned on following them, or at least trailing them for long enough to find a new place to stay. 

—-----------

You meet them again at the safe house with Laura, she drove them here and plopped them down without a word. She had been very welcoming when you had wandered this way in search of food, and let you join them for a quick meal. You had told her that you saw Wolverine, and her interest had been piqued. She explained to you everything that had happened before she was sent here, and the two of you bonded over not having something to return too. Although now, with this Wolverine sitting in the same space, it seemed like her chances were looking up.

You figured you’d let them be once they woke up, and wait it out. By the time everyone had finished their speeches, you just stood behind them and waved. You didn’t have much to say, everyone else had much more valid reasoning for wanting to escape than you. You could hardly remember life before the void, if you even had one. Luckily, nobody ever bothered to press you about it, probably assuming you had forgotten for a valid reason. So when Deadpool- Wade, asked you for your input, you sort of just shrugged. Listening to them all plotting was entertaining at least, you were sure you would be of much use, maybe an extra distraction, at the very least you could cover them enough to get the job done. 

You noticed Logan slip out with a bottle of liquor in his hands. You gave Laura a nod before following him outside.

He had started a fire, and was sitting watching the flames.

“So how’d someone like you end up with someone like that?” You gesture back up to the house, as you stand against a tree, watching the fire flicker in front of him.

“It’s complicated.” He says taking a swig from the bottle.

“It always is.” Silence runs through the trees, nothing but crackling fire and the dead stale air of the void. “At least he seems fun.”

“Hah,” He breathes out.

“If that’s what you’re into.”

“No.” His gruff demeanor drops for a second, the bottle halting as he brings it down from his lips.

“No?”

He looks you over, before turning away.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll say a prayer for your liver,” You reference the bottle in your hand. He nods, and you walk back up to the house, passing Laura on your way in. She’d probably have better luck cracking him than you.

You wondered if you would ever have a chance to mean something to him, to be more than some small tag along he sniffed out in the dirt. If he would ever find you to be a friend, an ally, someone to talk to, depend on. But you hardly just met, and hardly discussed anything other than half baked insults and nihilistic opinions of the void and your futures.  

—----------------

Wade and Logan had somehow convinced the TVA after everything with Cassandra to allow you and Laura to stay in this universe, and you weren’t sure how or why they wanted you to come along. Laura made sense, he felt responsible for her, and to make up for losing her Logan, to make up for missed moments. 

You? You hardly had a clue why they wanted you here. Or why they offered to let you stay with them until you found something else. You were surprised that Althea would agree to having 5 people sleeping in a tiny apartment. You appreciated the shelter, you were just very very confused by the entire situation. 

“Hello my little floor sleeper, how were your dreams? You were moaning about something…” He slides up next to you in the kitchen as you're pouring a cup of coffee.

“Hi, Wade.” You sip from the mug, not answering his nonsense.

“So,” he jumps up to sit on the counter in front of you, “You gonna spill? Tell me all about your honey badger dream fling? I was surprised you didn’t just wake up and mount him right there on the floor.”

“Shut up, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, the three of us sleep in the same tiny space, I hear everything.” 

“I’m gonna steal the couch space from you if you don’t drop it.”

Laura had been given a space in Althea’s room since the boys figured she deserved it, and You, Logan, and Wade were stuck in the living room. Rotating between the couch and cheap air mattresses, usually you just stayed on the floor and let Logan and Wade fight over the couch space. Compared to sleeping on grass and dirt in the void, an air mattress was a definite improvement. As long as Mary Puppins didn’t lick you to death in your sleep, it wasn’t a bad deal. 

“Come on, just admit you like Loggie Bear and I’ll get you some alone time with or without the couch.” 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Currently, no.”

You sigh, and walk towards the bathroom to change, locking the door behind you as Wade continues to ramble and try to get you to slip and say something about Logan. But you won’t, even if he is right.

There were many nights where you thought about climbing into bed next to him and pressing your face against his chest, breathing in his scent, being held close to him by those utterly ridiculous arms, having him place warm chaste kisses against the top of your head. But you wouldn’t.  

You hardly knew him, and what you knew about him led you to believe that he was not the kind of man to be interested in someone like you. Although he had become more pleasant after having been invited into Wade’s life. Some days he still was that gruff sort of emotionally unavailable man you met in the void, but other days he’s sweet and gentle and kind, usually whenever Laura’s around. It’s as if he’s been given a reason to live again and he’s navigating how to be a person again. 

After you get dressed, you grab your bag and head out, avoiding Wade and his nonsense. You told Laura you’d meet her after her class and go to a cafe she’s been wanting to try. It’s just down the street from the apartment, but the walk is nice and gives you time to get your thoughts back in order. Trying to keep Wade’s pestering from seeping in and getting you to slip up.

When you get to the cafe, Laura is waiting for you outside. You go in and are met with soft florals, sleek wood finish, and the overwhelming smell of coffee. It is so cozy and bright, a welcome break from the dim and crowded apartment. Laura orders something you didn’t know was a thing, and you opt for a simple latte. She finds this funny and smiles at you, “Don’t you want something sweet?”

“No, I’m alright.” You lean against the wall as you wait for your order.

“What’s with you and Logan’s hatred for sugar?” She asks as she slides over to stand next to you.

“I don’t hate sugar, I’m just not in the mood for it.” You shrug and stare at the counter.

“At least you get milk with your coffee, better than black like Logan drinks.” She laughs again and grabs your order when it’s called. The two of you find a nice table by the window and enjoy watching the people passing by. When a particularly handsome man passes by, Laura perks up and asks, “How about that one?”

“He’s alright, not really my type though,” You shrug your shoulders and take another sip from your cup.

“You’re right, I already know your type.” The grin on your face reminds you of how Wade greets you in the mornings.

“Oh yeah? What's that?” You look at her quizzically. 

“Starts with an L and ends with an ogan”

You groan, “Don’t I get enough of that from Wade?”

“I think everyone can see it but you, even Al.” She looks up at you from her drink, in a way you both know she’s right.

“Wow,” is all you can muster in response. 

“I don’t know why you won’t do something about it, and look if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I give you full permission to pursue my not Dad kinda Dad.” 

You quickly try to change the subject, and once your coffee's finished and you’ve loitered around, you walk back in a knowing silence. 

You do have some sort of crush on Logan, but you feel like it would be too ideal to expect him to share those feelings. Especially when you aren’t one hundred percent sure what those feelings even are. He is exceptionally good looking, and well built. If it weren’t for his confrontational attitude and lack of expression, you’d be so certain in your attraction. But there is something blocking you from fully admitting it to yourself.

Maybe it is simply your lack of self, having to build back an identity from nothing, that keeps you from knowing if He is it for you. Even though sometimes he is all you can think about. When you catch him playing dad with Laura. When you catch him helping Althea, a gentle smile plastered on his face as he speaks soft and gentlemanly. When he falls asleep on the couch with Mary Puppins in his arms. The images of the side he works so hard to hide, the soft domesticity he allows himself so rarely. That is what really sticks in your brain.

Along with the less than innocent images you have carved into your brain. Like that time he forgot you were home and came out from the bathroom only wrapped in a towel. The water clinging to his muscles and dripping from his hair. Or when he had his sleeves rolled up while walking around the apartment, the skin shiny from sweat, and all you could think about was what it would feel like to be held in place by them.

When you remember yourself, both you and Laura have made it back to the apartment. 

—-------

You were surprised that for once, everyone was home for dinner, and it wasn’t even a special occasion. Wade decided that it would be easiest to order some pizzas to avoid having to cook. You didn’t complain, even if you would have preferred a home cooked meal, pizza was fine. Of course he had gone to pick it up and left you with Logan, Laura, and Althea. She, reasonably so, had her spot already picked out in the armchair by the window. Logan and Laura were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, watching something on tv. All the while you sat on the floor, legs folded over each other, leaning back on your hands. 

“Why don’t you come sit on the couch?” Laura had asked, and you knew she already knew the answer, which was that you didn’t want to be so close to Logan that you would be touching. You had been cultivating a very specific environment with him, one where if you could just avoid any close contact with him, you could pretend like your heart didn't ache at the thought of him.

“I’m good here,” You didn’t bother looking away from the tv, which you weren’t even watching. 

“Come on,” Laura patted the cushion next to her. 

“Maybe I don’t want to sit next to the cat,” You looked over your shoulder at them. Logan was leaning back into the cushions behind him.

“I don’t want to sit next to you either,” His tone was only slightly malicious.

“Good.”

“Just sit on the couch,” Laura insisted. 

“No. He reeks, I think the animal dna gave him the scent too,” You waved your hand in front of your nose.

“But I don’t smell,” Laura sniffed her shirt.

“You reek too, ya know?” Logan pointed to Mary Puppins in the corner, “Probably cause you’re always sleeping next to that.” 

“Thanks. She’s actually a better roommate than you.” 

“You all stink,” Althea commented from her spot. 

As you stood up to walk towards the kitchen the door swung open. “PIZZA TIME!” Wade shouted, carrying the stack of boxes into the apartment. 

You ate mostly in silence, as Wade rambled on about something or someone that you had no interest in. Lately he was obsessed with those trashy reality tv shows were people all live in one house and things go wrong one way or another. You felt like you were already living in that, no need to watch strangers go through it too. It’s not that you felt like you were walking on eggshells, or that you weren’t welcome. More so that you were waiting for this whole thing to blow up in your face. 

—---------

It was late in the morning when you managed to roll out of your bed. Logan and Wade had already been awake and were trying their hardest to be quiet. Rather, Logan was quiet, and Wade was not. You didn’t hear what they were talking about, only that Logan mumbled something under his breath and Wade turned to see you sitting up on the floor.

“Good morning sleeping beauty! Pancakes or waffles?” He turned to you and you saw he was wearing one of those tacky ‘kiss the chef’ aprons.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stood up to stretch, “Whichever you’re less likely to burn.” 

Wade feigned offense, as you walked into the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair. “How do you manage to sleep so soundly down there?” Wade called from the kitchen as you walked back into the living room.

“I don’t.” You pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table, still groggy. “Which is why I need to get a job, and my own place.” 

“You’re leaving me?” Wade gasped, and crossed his hands over his heart. “How could you? What about the kids?” He started making a big fuss about it as if you hadn’t told him before that this had been your plan. “I can’t believe you would leave me alone with honey badger and the little ones! I can’t raise them alone.”

“Everyone that lives here is an adult, Wade.”

“Let her be,” Laura said as she slid into the kitchen and sat next to you. She smiled at you and nodded. 

Wade and Logan joined you at the table, sliding the plates of pancakes to you and her. They weren’t burnt, which was progress. 

—--------

You had spent the day job hunting, and apartment hunting, which was not as important since you kinda needed the money first. The cafe you had been to with Laura was hiring, though not having much of a resume due to the whole void and lack of a world thing, probably meant your chances of getting hired were slim. You submitted an application anyway, and to a few other shops and things in the area. Hopefully something would stick.

There really weren't many options in the area for apartments either, but when you ran into the building manager they had mentioned that one of the other units on your floor might be opening up soon. It wasn’t ideal to be in the same building as Wade and the others, but it was your only lead at the moment. 

When Wade got home, he had a sort of look in his eyes, which you had learned meant something was up. And when Laura came home with the same sort of look, you were even more suspicious. 

“What are you two doing?” You asked, approaching them in the kitchen.

“Well I thought I could do something nice for you,” Wade had his hands behind his back, holding something hidden from you. “And Logan,” he whispered but you still caught it.

“What?” Logan appeared from the bathroom, and leaned against the wall.

Wade handed you a piece of paper, “Tada!” You looked over the paper, it was a reservation confirmation for a hotel. “A magical getaway for you and the kitty cat to work out your differences at an all inclusive resort!”

“This is a Best Western.” The dates on the sheet were for tomorrow, Friday, until Sunday morning. 

“Did I stutter?” Wade stood with his hands on his hips.

“Who said I wanted to do this?” Logan asked, coming up behind you to look at the paper. He was so close you could almost feel his warmth against you. 

“Come on, you complain about the air mattress all the time,” Laura started, “This is your chance for a real bed.”

“Ok? So why do I have to go with her,” He was looming behind you, and the deep vibrations of his voice made your cheeks redden.

“It was cheaper to have two guests than one.” 

“Fine,” He walked away. You were also surprised that he would so quickly agree to something like this. As it was so obviously a set up. A plot against you.

“Perfect! Now go get packing!” Wade slapped you on the shoulder, and smiled. You knew this was all his idea. 

—-------

You were expecting this to be a set up, but when you opened the door and saw only one bed you knew it to be true. Logan walks in while you hold the door and he drops down onto the edge of the bed. You sigh as you drag your bag in and make a mental note to get back at Wade later. You turn the TV on to try to dispel the oppressive silence in the room, but all that's on the hotel cable is questionably written Hallmark movies. Logan shifts on the bed, and you hear it creak under his weight. You wonder what he would feel like on top of you, if he would crush you entirely.

 You sit in the chair that's against the wall, peering out through the cracks in the curtains to stare out at the parking lot, the sun is low against the horizon, and it’s surprisingly quiet. You can hear the fabric of the cheap hotel sheets rustling under Logan, along with the sound of his breathing, as he leans back into the bed, and you wonder how long you’ll be able to survive in a small room alone with him.

Despite having slept in the same room for the past few months, this is an entirely different situation. There’s no Wade, or Laura, or Mary puppins, or Althea. It is just you and him, in a hotel room, with one bed. Which was certainly a set up from Wade, in his quests to get you to admit your feelings for Logan. 

“Are you hungry?” You try to break the silence in the most mundane way possible, at least to save yourself from the discomfort.

“I could eat,”

“We could get room service?”

“Fine by me.” You toss him the menu and once you both decide on what to get you call it in. It was going to take a while, so you decided to take advantage of the luxury of a hotel shower. Telling Logan you wouldn’t be too long and to let you know if the food came before you were done. 

The shower is nice, clean white tiles, and a rather standard sort of set up. It is nice to have some time to yourself, despite Logan being in the other room, you try to allow yourself this time to relax. Letting the hot water soak into your skin and soothe your aches and pains. The sound of the water blocking out any thoughts or concerns about the current situation, letting you forget, at least momentarily, that you would be having to sort out the sleeping arrangements. The hotel soap is tropical, but gentle, not too overwhelmingly sweet or fruity. As you lather up you can barely hear the sounds of the tv in the other room. It is so still and unremarkable. It feels normal, but somehow you wonder if you can ever shake the loneliness of time in the void, if you can allow yourself to have a normal life again. As if you can build back something you don’t even remember. As if you deserve this space that has miraculously been carved out for you, for some reason unbeknownst to you. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door, and the noise of Logan’s steps going to retrieve the room service. You quickly rinse and towel off, wrapping up your hair and sliding into the hotel bathrobe. 

“Food’s here,” Logan calls from behind the bathroom door. You wait until you hear him sit back down on the bed before opening the door and returning to your spot in the chair. 

The two of you eat in silence, and you can’t help but notice his eyes on you. You wonder if it is just in your head, or if he is actually trying to steal glances at you from across the way. You tried to ignore him, to stare fully at the trash tv movie, or at the weird art on the walls. Anything but him. If you could just pretend like he wasn’t there, you could make it for the next two nights. 

Although being this close to him in a small hotel room was not the ideal scenario to make forgetting about him easy. His breathing was audible. His presence was palpable. Even the vague scent of whiskey, cigars, and sweat was radiating from his position on the bed. Every little detail filled your mind with a fog, and all that was running through your brain was him. Over and over. Logan was everywhere. 

“You want to sleep soon?” His voice cut through the haze and you practically snapped your neck to look over at him.

“Hm? Oh… uh yeah probably.” You couldn’t help but look directly into his eyes, and you felt like you should disappear so that he couldn’t make you feel so foolish. So utterly trapped by the idea of him. “I can Just take the cushions from the chair and sleep on the floor,”

“That defeats the whole point of Wade’s gift.”

“So?” You started pulling the cushions of the chair and throwing them on the floor.

“You can sleep up here in the bed,” His voice was commanding. It was no longer a polite suggestion. “I don’t bite.”

“Right but-” As you go to protest, he interrupts.

“We can face opposite ways.” 

And so that is how you ended up in your pajama shorts and a ratty tee shirt, in bed with Logan. Who, true to his word, had his back facing you, and you had your back facing him. You could hear your heart beating, and no matter what you told yourself you could not get it to slow down. His presence, only inches away, was consuming you. Your mind is unable to stop racing with images of him holding you down, touching you, eating you alive. Making you squirm beneath him. You squirmed and thrashed trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, but even with your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t.

“Stop moving,” Logan’s voice was low and rumbly. He turned towards you, and laid his arm over your middle, pulling your back against him. “Go to sleep,” He murmured, his lips against the back of your head. 

He was warm and solid behind you, his body pressed to yours gently. His grasp on you wasn’t tight, but the sheer weight of him kept you firmly in place. As you tried to quell your heart and steady your breathing, you finally managed to drift asleep. And stay asleep, the entire night. 

—-----

The hotel was so quiet and peaceful, and clean, compared to the apartment. You managed to sleep soundly, and stay asleep until late in the morning. You had nearly forgotten about the situation, until you were met with Logan’s arm still snuggly wrapped around you as you opened your eyes.

His lips were pressed to the back of your head, his muscular frame firmly pressed against your back. His grip had tightened in the night, and he had pulled you even closer to himself. As you tried to remove yourself from him, he grumbled against you, “Stay.”

“Logan-” You tried to protest, to escape from the growing embarrassment and heat building up in your body.

“Just a bit longer.” He groaned, and pressed himself further into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the growing bulge against your lower back. 

“Logan, please. Let me get up.” You pushed against his arm, and tried to pull yourself away but you were no match for him. 

“Why?” His voice was losing the grogginess of sleep, he was almost fully awake now. 

“Because-” You tried again to free yourself.

“Don’t you like me?” He sounded cocky, the question perhaps meaning to be playful but it stopped you dead in your tracks.

“I-” You stiffen, unable to react accordingly. 

“Then, stay.” Taken aback by his words and sudden clingy behavior, you realized that maybe Laura had been right, and everyone, including Logan, could see it. The way you had begun to feel about him, the almost immediate crush you developed as soon as you spotted him in the void, the way you felt thankful to have the chance at life again, simply because you wanted the chance to spend it with him.

You lay stuck in his arms for an unknown amount of time, the silence makes you a little uneasy, but his warmth and tenderness keeps you from leaping away. You didn’t imagine him to be someone so gentle, although you had glimpsed some of his more domestic behaviors when he thought it was just Him and Laura at home, and he would fuss over her like how you would want a good father to do. You felt safe and held by him, the frantic thoughts and anxieties being melted away into the warmth of him and his body against yours. 

As you nearly drift asleep again, he speaks, “Turn around.” And so you do, clumsily, but when you see his face those frantic thoughts and the racing of your heart begins again.  

“So pretty like this,” He murmurs, his face and voice soft. And before you can respond he closes the gap between you, his hand lacing in your hair and pulling you into him as he presses his lips against your gentle and steady. The brief taste of him makes you crave more.

As he pulls away to search your face for any signs of discomfort, you pull him back to you, your hands reaching up to his face to crash your lips into his. You whimper against him as his hands run down your spine and land on your hips, pulling you as close to him as he can. You can feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as he darts his tongue in to meet yours, twisting and tangling yourself with him as much as you can. The months of unspoken tension pouring out of you and dissipating as you desperately try to push yourself against him. You bring your hand down to paw at his bulge, darting your fingers across the fabric of his pajama pants. 

He smiles against you as he catches your hand with his and bring it under the waistband. You gasp when you realize he had not been wearing anything underneath his pants. Your fingers wrapping around him, the warmth and size of him in your hand making your head spin. 

His hands find their way to the edge of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down your legs as he breaks the kiss only for a moment to find his breath. His fingers trace up and down your thighs, pressing gentle circles into the skin before he pushes his hand between them, his palm pressing into you. The brief friction against your clit drawing a short moan from you. His hand rubs against you, the pressure making you grind down to meet him, craving more.

You whine as he pulls his hand away, only for him to grab your hips and pull you on top of him. His back against the bed as he brings you to straddle him. You kick your shorts and panties away, as he pulls his pants down further. His erection springing up against you. You can barely focus long enough to glimpse the size of him, too overcome with greed and arousal. 

You sink yourself onto his cock as his hands guide your hips. You moan at the stretch of it. He lets you catch your breath as you take him down to the hilt. His hands never leave you as he kisses and nips along your neck and shoulders, your head pressed against his shoulder as he begins to rock into you, whispering praises and filth against your skin. 

You grind your hips against his, the head of his cock dragging along that magic spot inside of you that causes the pleasure to build and the knot in your stomach to tighten. He growls in your ear as you tighten and pulse around him. You can feel the pressure building, making your head spin. He slips his fingers into your mouth and you greedily accept them, sucking and licking and kissing along them. He removes them and a trail of your saliva beads down them. He brings them between you to rub circles on your clit. The sensation dizzying, as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans are frantic as you practically pant against him, begging him not to stop, that you’re so close, so so close. 

With one steady thrust he snaps the last thread and you come undone around him. The feeling of you cumming around him bringing him to his limit, if he wasn’t so enraptured by you he might have been embarrassed with how quickly you’ve made him cum. His warmth fills you as you come down from your high, hazy and drooling. You smile as he presses you against him. You don’t mind staying like this, you whine when he tries to move.

“Alright, princess. I’ll stay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[measuredingold]

more cuddling with noah, but written properly 🥲 very short so i’m not considering this a fic so no word count and will probably tag this as a headcanon <3 anyways enjoy

cw/tw: fluff fluff fluff that’s literally it

A sigh from the top of the stairs breaks you out of your doom scrolling, eyes looking up from your phone to find Noah already staring at you.

His brows were furrowed and lips set in a deep frown, and the bags under his eyes made it clear he's been up a lot longer than you realized. Your eyes drop to your phone again to check the time, finding yourself frowning that it's well into the evening, and this is your first time seeing Noah since breakfast.

You look up. "Hi baby."

He sighs again before trudging down the steps, and you can practically see the heaviness of whatever is on his mind weighing on him. You shift on the couch to get in a much more comfortable position, back pressed into the cushions, and your arms opening once Noah gets closer to you. He gently falls onto you with a groan before wrapping his arms around your middle the best he can.

"Hi." He mumbles, face burying against the crook of your neck. One of your hands immediately finds a way to his hair, fingers carding through it while the other rests on his back.

"What's up?"

You feel his body slowly start to melt into yours, burrowing himself closer to you. You shiver at the feeling of his hands sliding up under your shirt, cool to the touch.

"Can't get this one part right." His voice is muffled against your neck and you can barely understand him, but don't bother moving him. You know this is the first time all day he's been semi-relaxed. "Pissing me off."

"Take a break, honey."

"I am." Noah groans. "Right now. Gimme like... 10 minutes, then I'll head back up."

You laugh softly, scratching at his scalp gently before smoothing down his hair. "You need a much longer break than that. How long have you been at it?"

"Uh..." It takes much longer for him to respond, brain probably fried from staring at his screen for so long. "Sometime this morning?"

"I figured that much. You were working before I even got up."

"Needed to get a head start on it." He yawns loudly then and tries to snuggle his body closer to yours, fingers digging into the skin at your sides.

"You can work on it tomorrow." You can't stop the frown forming on your lips, hand running up and down his back. "When was the last time you ate something?"

"...This morning."

"Noah."

"I knooow." It comes out as a whine and you can't help but laugh again, turning your head to press a kiss to the side of his head. "I forgot. Too caught up in the song. I didn't realize how much time had passed until like, 30 minutes ago."

"Want me to make you something? Or takeout?"

Another long moment of silence follows your question, and you think briefly that maybe he had already fallen asleep, the exhaustion catching up to him. Eventually you hear him make a noise and wiggle his body closer to yours, nose pressing against the base of your neck.

"...Takeout?"

"We can do that. Chinese?" Noah nods against you. "Want me to order it now?"

"In a second." He sighs out and you can't help but shiver at the feeling of his breath against your neck. "I just wanna lay here for a while longer."

You practically melt at his words and your hand drops from his hair to wrap your arms around him fully. You wish it was under better circumstances, but you loved whenever he was in one of these moods. Where he needed to be as close to you as possible, practically needing to live in your skin to feel somewhat sane. You squeeze him to your chest, feeling him try to wiggle his way closer to you.

"Whatever you want, my love."

He practically purrs at that and your face flushes when you feel the brush of his lips against your skin.

"Thank you." He murmurs in response before relaxing against your chest again, letting out a deep sigh you think he's been holding in.

You don't say anything, just squeeze him tighter to you as you both lay there in silence, basking in the comfort of each other.

[luveline]

for the fred x asf!reader, maybe something where one of his family members is like whispering about r or says something rude or backhanded and he sticks up for her? or if you don’t want to do his family, maybe a friend or something?

ty for requesting! fem, 1.7k

Sometimes you get so sick with everything that it makes you gag. It sounds insane, how can an illness that tires you force something like a gag? It might be more appropriate to attribute it to anxiety, but it’s overwhelming, whatever it is. You get this feeling like you’re totally lost in the middle of the day and all Fred can do is watch you as you scramble out of your seat for a bathroom. 

You haven’t actually thrown up yet. You stand bent over the bathroom sink in the burrow and breathe. Your gag had been loud —it wouldn’t surprise you if everybody here tonight had heard it. Fred stands just outside the door, the bathroom too small to force his way in while you still stand at the sink. 

“Lovely,” he says, without shame despite the tens of ears listening in, “can I come in?” 

The basin is made of yellow and orange tile, peculiar as the rest of the burrow. The mirror is framed by the same colours. You meet your own eyes and don’t have it in you to scowl. You aren’t angry at being sick. You aren’t sorry for yourself. You’re just tired. 

Fred says your name. 

You scoot into the very corner of the bathroom and begin opening the door for him. He’s in as soon as you allow him to be, shimmying between the door and the toilet to close it behind him again. He takes a breath of relief when he finds you unhurt, but his concern doesn’t waver. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

Sometimes you wish Fred didn’t have to see you at all. Like this, like that, ever. You wish he never met you, because you know he’s beautiful inside and out, and he has to witness you at your constant lows. “Fine.” 

“My mum’s making some peppermint tea, if you want some. It settles the stomach.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Is there something wrong?” 

Beyond the usual? No. Everything is the same. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’ll be in love with him forever without ever feeling enough, maybe he’ll keep looking at you like he is now, softly, the slightest air of defeat about him. There are wires crossed in your head you can’t fix, and he loves you, and sometimes it doesn’t make a bit of difference. 

“Hey,” he says, “it’s okay.” Fred holds your arm by the elbow.

“I know. I don’t know what…” 

Do you ever? 

Fred doesn’t catch onto your dark mood. “That’s enough for today. We’ll go home, okay? Let me just say goodbye to mum, you can say bye to George. Or do we…” 

“No. It’s okay, I’ll go and see him.” 

“Okay.” He kisses your cheek. 

Fred leaves first. By the time you’ve slipped between the toilet and the door back out into the hallway, he’s gone. Not even his scent lingers. You make your way back into the living room where you’d been before you started feeling sick, face angled down. 

“You alright?” Charlie asks. 

You raise your head to smile at him quickly. “I’m okay. Just not feeling well, sorry.” 

“Going home?” George asks. 

You bite your tongue and nod. George gathers your jumper where you’d shed it in a hot flush and quickly stands to be by your side. 

“Let me walk you down to the garden.” 

“Okay. Bye, Charlie. See you next week.” 

“Feel better!” Charlie calls as you go. 

You pull your jumper on and follow George out into the garden, where you meander. You’d say goodbye to Molly, only she’s so caring that it can make things worse. She’s more understanding of how you feel than you’d first expected, but she made boys like Fred and George, so it shouldn’t surprise you. 

“What’s that about? The being sick?” George asks eventually. 

“I wasn’t sick.” 

“No?” 

“No, it’s just kecking. I don’t really know what it is, honestly.” 

George looks like Fred, but they’re not as identical as people think. Very occasionally you’ll spot him across the shop and think it’s your boyfriend for a few nanoseconds, but you could never mistake them for one another in good lighting. When George offers a hug, it doesn’t feel like Fred’s touch. You know the difference. 

“Maybe it’s, like, a sign you need to chill out for a bit.” 

“I’m always chilled out. Nobody expects anything from me. I never do anything.” 

George pulls back with an arm still covering your shoulders, “Listen to the way you’re talking,” he says gently, “you need to be nice to yourself, even if it’s just until you feel better. You know? Something is clearly winding you up, and it doesn’t have to. You can tell me about it.” 

It’s something, but it’s something he knows already. You hold your arm to his, struggling to explain, to want to. You wish you could go back to saying nothing; it was easier to be quiet. 

George isn’t disappointed. He rubs your arm. “You can tell me whenever. Or not tell me. Don’t tell me anything, let’s just ditch Fred and go get cake.” 

“I can’t ditch Fred.” 

“Why?” 

“I like him.” 

“Ugh.” George puts his cheek to yours. “Whatever. You’ll pick the right twin eventually.” 

Shouting echoes from the house. You and George look up at the same time, startled, the light mood of your joking quickly tanked. “Is that Fred?” you ask. 

It’s definitely Fred. “I couldn’t care less what you think, Ronald, I’d be surprised if you could form intelligent thought–” 

“Fred!” Molly shouts, “Boys, please, there’s no need for all the shouting!” 

“If I were you I’d look at yourself carefully the next time you're tempted to open your fat gob–”

George laughs beside you. “Jesus, what’s Ron said?” 

“I have no idea.” The twins argue with Ron every time they see him, so it could be anything. “Maybe he’s harping on Fred to cut his hair again.” 

“Well, he should.” 

“No way.” You picture your lovely boyfriend with short, short hair as everyone wants him to have and cringe. “No, thank you.” 

“Just don’t talk about her, Ron! It’s really quite simple, even a half-wit like you could understand it if you tried, don’t even think about her–”

Your chest falls as you realise what it is that’s making all the fuss. At Fred’s shout, there’s an upheaval of sounds, Ron’s yelling, Molly’s, and Arthur’s quieter pleading for everybody to calm down. Fred says something you can’t hear, and then the door out into the garden is opening, and Fred huffs a breath as he makes his way down the path. 

“Hey,” he says, forcing a smile when he sees you and George. “Ready to go?” 

“What happened?” you ask. 

“It’s nothing. Ron being Ron.” 

“Did he say something?” 

Fred looks between you and George with a frown. “He’s hardly capable of stringing four words together. But yes, he said something.” His frown deepens. “He’s just being a dick. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Was it about me?” 

Fred squints at you. “Could you be less perceptive?” 

“No.” 

He visually debates telling you what’s been said. George grabs your shoulder, half a hug as he says, “I can invoke a divine punishment.” 

“It was nothing cruel, ghost.” Fred sighs. “He asked me why you act like that, and I– He doesn’t get it, okay? But that doesn’t mean you act wrong.” 

“I see,” you say. 

Fred watches your face. His own turns to heartbreak. “Listen, I’ll go back in there. I’ll kill him.” 

“No, you won’t.” 

“Of course I will.” Fred ducks his head a little to see you where you’ve shied away. “I will kill him.” 

George snorts. “Me first. He’s such a fucking dolt of a boy.” 

“No, it’s okay, I know I’m weird–”

“I’ll kill him–”

“Fred,” you interrupt. You take a moment to formulate what you’re saying, because it’s important, and because you constantly toe the same line, “I am weird. He doesn’t have to pretend I wasn’t just almost sick in the living room for no real reason–”

“It’s not about pretending, it’s that he thinks you do it on purpose.” Fred speaks with such severity that you immediately close your mouth. “I’ve seen you struggle for so long, it’s painful, ghost, and it’s worse for you, I know it is, and the insinuation that you’re choosing–”

“Fred,” you say, putting your hand to his chest. “It’s okay.” 

“Well, it isn’t,” George says, “but yeah, it’s okay. I’m gonna make slugs come out of his nose.” 

George kisses your cheek, a smacking joking thing that you bat away before he jogs back up the path to the house. Fred looks down at your hand on his chest, still frowning, but with a slowly relaxing brow. 

“You can’t blame people for not getting it,” you say. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You can’t.” 

“Yes, I can. You are difficult to understand sometimes, lovely, but being difficult to understand does not mean you’re difficult to care about. Ron’s total lack of empathy is ridiculous. He should be better than that.” 

“He just doesn’t get it,” you say, raising a hand to his chin to turn his head, and lifting your chin to kiss his cheek primly. “But I don’t need him to. Just need you.” 

He grabs you in a hug before you can move away, his face pressed against yours. “How do you feel now?” he asks quietly. “Still poorly?” 

“Yeah, a bit. George told me I need to chill out.” 

“You do. That’s what we’re going home to do.”

Fred is so careful with you that it sort of hurts. Like, to have someone stand in front of you and to hold you without a second thought, to have never let you down, to grab you at the first sign of weakness and hold you together. You will never, ever feel like you deserve him. Maybe you don’t. But Fred doesn’t work on deserving, he just loves, lips soft on your temple as his hand scrunched into your side. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, fingers curling in and out against you, almost like a loving scratch, “you’ll feel better soon.” 

[iid-smile]

#08 ୨ৎ ⸝⸝ @meidiary ⋆

i think im in luv with u... 😪 mei is a 10/10 guys!! certified cutie ☺️ idk who i was expecting you to pick, but inumaki 😆😆 one of my favs fr! and i was so excited to do 23 for some reason... you're the first one to request it 👏 all of them are headcanons 🙂‍↕️ (tumblr keeps not saving what i put down its stressing me out!!!)

#18 🍓 | protecting you

im sorry, but inumaki can be such a scaredy cat sometimes...

he'd be afraid, but still step up and get in between you and whatever is the threat

doesn't consider his own safety and wellbeing in the process either... he always puts others first, and a little bit of throat pain is much better than you getting hurt

100% mans up against insects because you hate them

gets intimated when he's up against a muscular 6ft guy, but has a eureka moment and uses his cursed speech. easy win

theres also other things he'd protect you from too, like pulling you away from hot oil and flames if you're cooking together. he's got spidey senses (according to him)

the cold is also something he'd protect you from. always makes sure you have a warm coat, scarf, gloves, and everything. i think inumaki really likes earmuffs too, because then he can whisper about how much he loves you and you wouldn't hear a thing

#20 🍦 | love language

physical touch + quality time

a mixture of both

the two of you could lay around for hours, and he'd just listen to you talk as you both cuddle. when you're both into a particular show or series, snuggling in bed when you're both supposed to be sleeping hits different

if you're on public transport or aimlessly walking around, he'll hold your hand, but it's more like he's holding it from behind rather than actual handholding.

silence with him is always comfortable, and you completely tune out from the rest of the world whenever you're with him

gift giving

he gifts you snacks a lot. even better if he specifically gets ones with pink packaging

not the best with fashion but he tries for you. he would buy you a turtleneck just like his but a different colour and patterned

not the best with fashion, but he tries. at first, he'd literally buy you any clothes that are pink, and gets so confused when it's not your style. he gets it eventually, don't worry

matching shoes are a must! not the exact same shoe as you, but the same colour

pranks

not really a love language but aha

he loves it too much when he scares you with bugs, especially ones that fly. craneflies are the worst, because they're relatively easy to pick up and hold compared to flies or other flying creatures

he'll grab it by the leg and chase you around with it. sometimes he'll cup his hands together and pretend he has one because he finds it funny

he doesn't do anything with spiders because you're both scared of them

he actually would love it when you prank him back. scaring him from behind by shaking his shoulders is the best way to get him

#23 🍦 | your romance trope / dynamic

friends to lovers / mutual friends

he wouldn't date anybody he doesn't know well

since you're friends with a lot of people, there's no way he hasn't heard about you, and you happened to meet by chance

maybe coincidentally crossing paths and your extroverted self just had to say hello.

as soon as you both realise you have a mutual friend, the friendship blossoms and grows quick

the way he cares for you is so clear to everyone else except for you, but when somebody points it out, you can tell

sunshine x enthusiastic but silent enabler

inumaki is already a silly guy, and he just gets sillier

the conversations you have are always energetic, engaging and exciting, even with the language barrier, so he's pulling out ingredients that nobody's ever heard him say before. essentially, you're the only two that actually can understand

his energy immediately springs up whenever he gets to hang out with you. he can go from 0 to 100 in a split second, and that needs to be studied

he really doesn't mind how much you talk, since he likes to listen

#24 🍦 | when they're jealous

it's hard to see his face when his mouth and eyebrows are both covered, so you're only depending on the eyes. or if he tells you himself

if he wants to get out of a situation to feel more at ease, he'll tug on your sleeve or fingers

"🤬"

that's literally all he sends you over text or shows you on notes, and when you look over at him, it's really obvious that he's upset. (to you, at least)

will have a whole debate with you on why, how and what he's jealous about. small or big, it doesn't matter

when he gets the most jealous is if you're paying too much attention to something else in general

like, if you're sitting a bit too far to each other and you're on your phone, he'd pull you closer so you'd be right by his side, silently asking for you to talk to him a bit

event masterlist

[jensengirl83]

You'll Accompany Me Chp 18

Warnings- Some angst, fluff, mild descriptions of childbirth

Word Count- 3530

A/N- Sorry this has taken so long, but the series is finally finished! I'll be posting a chapter a week until the last one. I hope you all enjoy it!

It had been a month since Jensen had proposed to Y/N, and things were going well. She was still working on getting ready for the arrival of their baby. She was due to go to her next appointment to check on her condition later that afternoon, and Jensen had been trying to get her to reconsider not finding out the gender. 

“Seriously, honey, you don’t want to know what it is?” he asked, his tone almost begging. 

“No, Jay. I want it to be a surprise. Everything hasn’t gone so well since I found out I was pregnant, and I just want this one thing to be something to look forward to,” she chuckled. 

“How many times do I have to apologize for what I did, huh? I’ve tried to make it up to you in every way I know how. You know I’ll never forgive myself for it, so why did you have to bring it up?” he responded, his voice cracking with emotion at the end. 

“Jay…” she sighed, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away. 

She knew that she’d struck a nerve, but she also needed him to let her explain how she was feeling, and she couldn’t do that if he wouldn’t even look at her. She reached for him one more time just for him to pull away again, not even looking in her direction. Not giving him the chance to withdraw from her, she cupped his face in her hands and turned his face to look at her. 

“I want you to listen to me, okay? Yes, what happened was hard, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. The fact that I was ordered on bed rest because of a serious health condition that could hurt me and the baby was a lot to deal with. Me being so stubborn and taking so long to forgive you and cut what time we could’ve been enjoying this pregnancy together is something else I have to live with. And I kick myself in the ass for that every day, but I have forgiven you, Jay. I really have. So, please, stop beating yourself up over it, and thinking that every time I bring up what a hard time I’ve had, that it means I’m talking about that, okay?” 

She could see his eyes begin to tear up, and she felt horrible. This isn’t where she wanted the conversation to go, but now she had to try and fix it. With a sigh of regret, she pulled him to her, kissing him softly, and wrapping him in a hug. She could feel the tension all over him, so she slowly ran her hand through his hair, whispering apologies and how much she loved him over and over until she could feel him start to relax. He eventually pulled away to look at her, and it compounded her guilt. He looked heartbroken. 

“Jay, I’m so sorry. Please believe me when I tell you that I forgave you a long time ago, and nothing I said was about that,” she whispered, hugging him around his waist and resting her head on his chest.

“It’s okay, baby. I believe you. I just…” he paused, looking down at her, her eyes letting him know she was listening and wanted to hear what he had to say, “I’ve never forgiven myself for leaving you like that, and I think that stress is what may have caused your preeclampsia in the first place. And that makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.”

“Please, Jay, forgive yourself. I did a long time ago. I was just too stubborn to admit it, and I’m sorry. But, baby, that had nothing to do with what happened to me. It happens to a lot of pregnant women, and you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I love you, Jensen, and if knowing the gender will make you feel better, then that’s what we’ll do,” she smiled, squeezing his middle in a tight hug. 

“We don’t have to find out if you really don’t want to. That wouldn’t be fair,” he sighed in contentment, kissing the top of her head. He loved her hugs. 

“No, it’s okay. Maybe it would be helpful in the end. That way we could buy exactly what we need without getting everything gender neutral,” she giggled as he tickled her ribs. 

“You have any idea how much I fucking love you?” 

“Probably not as much as I love you,” she sassed back, laughing when he sighed in faux annoyance. 

“Always busting my balls, Y/L/N.” he deadpanned, trying to hide his smile. 

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“No. No I wouldn’t, darlin’,” he replied, pulling her into his lap. She’d never know how grateful he was to have her there. To have her, period. 

Y/N’s knee was bouncing with nerves as they sat in the doctor’s office later that afternoon. She was hoping for a good report and that she could lift some of her restrictions and be more active. Not being able to do much other than cook, light cleaning, and lying around was starting to drive her a little insane. But, something was eating at her that everything wasn’t going to be okay, and she couldn’t shake that feeling. She’d been having small Braxton Hicks contractions, but other than that, everything was progressing as it should. But something just wouldn’t let her feel like everything was fine. 

She jumped slightly as the nurse called her name to lead her back to the exam room. She didn’t think Jensen had noticed how nervous she was, but he had. As she stood, he took her hand, kissing it lightly and giving it a little squeeze to tell her without words that he was there and it would be okay. If only she could believe it. She hadn’t been in the small room long before Dr. Williams walked in with her million-watt smile she always had. It had always put Y/N at ease, but not today. 

“Good afternoon, mom and dad. How are we feeling today?” Dr. Williams asked, sitting down on the small stool and getting everything prepared for the exam. 

“I’m not going to lie. Other than the normal Braxton Hicks, nothing is going on, but I just feel like something is going to go wrong with the exam today,” Y/N answered honestly, Jensen looking over at her, one eyebrow raised in confusion and concern. She hadn’t mentioned feeling that way to him. 

“It’s fine, Y/N. A lot of mothers have that feeling at this stage of pregnancy, and especially if they have complications. Do we still not want to know the gender?” 

“No. Y/N agreed to find out this time,” Jensen replied quickly, his big smile letting Y/N know she’d made the right decision. If this made him feel just a little better about the pregnancy, then he deserved that. 

“Okay, then. How about we get the exam over first to ease mom’s worries, and then we’ll do the ultrasound. That sound good to you two?” 

“Sounds good,” Y/N and Jensen answered simultaneously, making all three of them chuckle. 

Y/N took a deep breath as the doctor started her exam. Having her cervix checked was never a fun time, and she hated it, but it had to happen. Luckily, it was usually over quickly. But she noticed that Dr. Williams was taking longer than normal this time, and her breathing started to pick up and her heart began to race. It didn’t help when she looked up and saw a concerned look on the woman’s face. Jensen had noticed, too, and before Y/N could say anything, Jensen was speaking. 

“What’s wrong, doc? Is everything okay? Is there something wrong with Y/N or the baby?” he rapidly fired the questions at the doctor, his palms beginning to sweat with nervousness. He didn’t know what he would do if something was wrong. 

“Just calm down, everyone. There’s nothing major going on,” Dr. Williams began before taking a breath to tell them what she had found, “But, Y/N is completely effaced and dilated to 5 centimeters.” 

“What the hell does that mean? She’s only thirty-five weeks along. There’s no way she can be dilated!” Jensen shouted, his fear beginning to take over and panic setting in. 

“What?! I can’t be. It’s too early! I can’t have the baby now,” Y/N cried, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.Something was wrong and she knew it, knew something was wrong with her baby. 

“Everyone calm down. This isn’t unheard of with women that have preeclampsia. Yes, it’s a little early, but the baby will probably be just fine.” 

“Probably?! I’m not fine with a probably,” Jensen was yelling now. 

“Mr. Ackles, many women have babies at this stage and most are just fine. Of course, I can’t give you an absolute guarantee, because there isn’t any when it comes to these things. But, I can tell you that I think mom and baby are going to be just fine. Now, I have to go get her a room ready for labor and delivery. A nurse will be down soon to get her moved to that floor. I know this isn’t easy, but I need you both to try and be as calm as you can. That’s what’s going to help mom and baby get through this happy and healthy,” Dr. Williams smiled, patting Jensen on the shoulder as she left the couple alone to try and come to terms with their impending situation. 

“Jay…” Y/N’s trembling voice brought Jensen out of his panic. He was by her side in an instant, running his hand over her head, and kissing her face. 

“It’s okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered while soothing her, hoping that he would eventually believe his own words. 

“But what if it’s not? What if the baby is too small and…” she began to cry when he interrupted her. 

“No, uh uh. You’re both going to be fine, baby. This is a great hospital, and babies are born more prematurely than ours all the time and are just fine. All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself and bringing our little peanut out to meet us. Okay? I’ve got everything else,” he reassured her, even though he felt as if he would crumble at any moment. 

She nodded her head and cried. She knew that she had a rough journey ahead of her, and she would need all the strength she had to deliver the baby. But she couldn’t stop worrying about whether he or she would be okay. And she knew she had to have Jensen make her a promise before all the craziness got started. 

“Jay, no matter what happens in there, you stay with the baby. No matter what,” she begged, knowing she couldn’t do this without that promise. 

“Y/N…” 

“No, Jay. You have to promise me. Please, I'm begging you. Take care of our baby if anything goes wrong. Please promise me Jay,” she wailed, the tears and fear of what could happen overtaking her. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I promise, honey. I'll stay with the baby no matter what. But you have to make me a promise. You gotta promise me that you’ll do everything you can to be okay. We’re both going to bring this precious baby home together. You hear me?” he pleaded, his tears finally breaking free and dropping down to her forehead where he had rested his against it. 

“I promise,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his face and kiss him softly, just as the door opened and the nurse came in. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, we’re here to take you upstairs.” 

“I’ll be right behind you,” Jensen kissed her one last time as the nurse walked over to wheel her up to delivery in her bed.

“See you soon, handsome,” she smiled, squeezing his hand as they began to wheel her out of the room. 

Jensen was pacing the floor waiting for the nurse to come tell him he could be with Y/N. Once they had gotten her upstairs, they told him he needed to wait outside in the hall while they got her settled in and hooked to all the monitors, and an IV inserted. He had already made all the phone calls he needed to make. Jared and Gen were on their way, his parents were heading out as soon as they could, and Dee and the kids knew that she would be delivering soon, and wanted to wait until she was in recovery before they came to visit. All he was waiting on now was the okay to be with his future wife. It felt like an eternity before the nurse came out and took him in to see Y/N. Dr. Williams was there when he walked in. 

“Hello, Mr. Ackles. I’ll get you up to speed on what’s happening. Sorry, it took so long to bring you in, but her water broke when we moved her to her new bed. So, that means that there’s an increased risk of infection if her labor doesn’t progress in a timely manner. Which means that I put her on a Pitocin drip through her IV. Unfortunately, that means her contractions will be more intense than usual, but that also means that little Ackles will make their debut sooner.” 

“Okay, so what do I need to do?” he asked, completely at a loss about what he should be doing. 

“Same thing you did with your other three children when your wife was in labor,” the doctor said, a look of confusion on her face. 

“Well, see, that’s the problem. All three of my other kids were scheduled c-sections. I never had to go through the labor part of it,” he answered sheepishly, feeling stupid for not knowing what to expect. 

“Oh! Well, then that makes sense,” the doctor giggled, “No need to be embarrassed. Just do whatever you can to help her be comfortable, and be her support when she needs encouragement. Other than that, buckle up and enjoy the ride. This will be a completely different but amazing experience for you.” 

“O-Okay,” he stuttered, a little overwhelmed with everything going on around him.

“Jay, it’s okay. Just come sit beside me, please,” Y’N’s voice broke him out of his stupor, her tired smile and outstretched hand making his legs finally work to have a seat by her side. 

“How are you feeling, baby?” he asked, running his hand over her head. 

“Remember that scene from Alien?” she chuckled dryly. 

“The chest burster?!” he gasped at the visual image in his head. 

“Yeah, that one. Kinda like that,” she frowned as a strong contraction hit. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay,” he huffed, her hand feeling like it was going to crush his  fingers as she squeezed. 

Jensen kept repeating to her that everything was fine and that she was doing amazing, and that it would all be over soon as each contraction had her gritting her teeth and crying in pain. He hated seeing her in so much pain, and he would do it for her if he could. But since he couldn’t, he stayed by her side with words of encouragement, little kisses on her face and head, and wiping the sweat away with a cool cloth. And after what felt like an eternity, the doctor told them that it was finally time for her to push. 

The flurry of activity in the room as the doctor and nurses prepared to help bring their baby into the world had his head spinning, but he tried to keep his focus on Y/N, and do everything he could to make it as easy as he could for her. Once the doctor told him to hold Y/N’s leg up, he knew the show was starting, and he didn’t know if he wanted to jump for joy, throw up, or pass out. 

“Jay. I can’t do this,” she cried after twenty minutes of pushing, her body feeling as if it would give out at any moment. 

“Yes you can, baby. You’re doing so good. They’re almost here, and we’ll know soon whether we have a son or daughter,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her temple, “I’m so fucking proud of you, honey. You’ve got this.” 

‘Come on, Y/N. I can see the head now. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor yelled out, making Jensen look down. 

“Don’t you dare look at that! It’ll scar you forever,” Y/N screamed, groaning through another contraction. 

“Baby, nothing could ever make me think any differently of you,” he said sweetly, looking back down to where the doctor was, “Oh my God! Honey, I can see the head! It has so much hair!” 

Jensen was elated. He couldn’t have imagined that this experience would’ve been so profound. Of course, seeing his other children being brought into the world through c-section was absolutely amazing, too. But this was a completely different ballgame. 

“Okay, Y/N. One more big push and you’ll meet your baby,” the nurse beside her said, holding her leg up higher to give her more leverage to push. Jensen followed suit, and leaned back to Y/N. 

“Come on, baby. You can do it. One more and we get to see our baby,” he cooed, kissing her forehead as she gave one last push. 

The sound of a loud cry pierced the room, and Y/N and Jensen both let out cries of their own at the wonderful sound. She’d done it. She’d endured the worst pain of her life, and now, her son or daughter was there, screaming for the whole delivery floor to hear. She’d never heard such a beautiful sound in her life. She continued to cry tears of joy as Jensen kissed all over her face, his tears mixing with hers, him showering her with praise for what a great job she had done.

“Mr. Ackles, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Williams asked, a bright smile on her face, “You have a very healthy baby over here.” 

Y/N and Jensen began to sniffle at her words. Their baby was perfectly healthy. All the worry of them being premature and having complications melting away. Jensen walked over to cut the cord. His breath caught in his throat when he looked down, the doctor smiling at him. 

“How about you cut this cord, and then you can go tell mama what the gender is, huh?” 

Jensen just nodded. He was speechless. This experience had been one of the most nerve-wracking but beautiful he’d ever had, and he couldn’t wait to tell Y/N what the gender was. Once the cord was cut, and the baby cleaned and wrapped up, Jensen slowly walked back to his fiancee, a face-splitting smile on his face. 

“Honey, would you like to hold our son?” he asked, a tear slipping down his cheek at the way Y/N’s face lit up with his words. 

“It’s a boy?” she whispered, her voice breaking with all the emotion she was feeling. 

“It’s a healthy little boy,” he beamed with pride, gently placing their son in his mama’s arms. 

“Oh my God, Jay. He’s beautiful, and just perfect,” she said with awe, kissing the little boy’s nose, forehead, and cheeks. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he hiccuped with emotion, placing kisses all over her face between every word of thanks. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Jay.” 

“Yes, I do, baby. I have to thank you for being my friend all those years, for giving me the chance to be your boyfriend, for forgiving me when I fucked up so royally, for agreeing to be my wife, and especially for giving me what I didn’t even know I needed, another baby to love. So, yes, darlin’, I’ll owe you thanks every day for the rest of my life,” he whispered, afraid all the emotions he was feeling would take his voice if he tried to speak any louder. 

“I love you so much, Jay,” she smiled through tears, reaching up to cup his face. 

“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you, baby,” he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft, quick kiss. 

Jensen leaned back to look down at Y/N and their son. The love in her eyes as she looked at their son took his breath away. How could he have been so selfish to have even thought to deny her this? She was going to be a great mother, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her, raising their kids, and just loving her. He knew at that moment just what a lucky son of a bitch he was, and he was going to do his damnedest to never take that for granted again.

@flamencodiva​ @foxyjwls007​ @emoryhemsworth​ ​​ @valsworldofcreativity​​ @hardcoresupernaturalfans​​

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[howlsofbloodhounds]

So we know that Cross and Delta have a sorta-fued going on, but I specifically remember one post saying that Delta would store up his most passive-aggressive, painful fistbumps for specifically Cross and Killer. And this kinda got me thinking.

Let's say, Delta does this, and everytime he does it, Cross flinches hard. Too hard. It confuses Delta, but since Cross isn't as much of a pain in the ass as he used to be, he starts going lighter as to not hurt him as much, but he still does it. Which might eventually come to Cross confronting Delta and asking him to please stop.

Well, Delta may not like the guy, but he can see that Cross seems genuinely distressed about it. So, he apologizes(?) and agrees to not do it again.

So where I'm going with this is, how would Delta react to finding out that Cross had been abused? Especially if we're rolling with the headcanon that Beta was abused as a child?

I don’t really see why much would change about how delta treats him with this knowledge, besides ya know, stopping whenever cross asks him to or whenever cross seems uncomfortable. let him know he’s there to talk if he ever wants to, maybe. he’d hate on xgaster with him if cross ever shares anything.

but delta isn’t killer–someone who doesn’t hesitate to poke around until he gets what he wants and uses whatever he has at his disposal to get ahead, even if it means using things like childhood trauma to get an upper hand on someone, if thats what he thinks he has to do.

and unlike killer, delta doesn’t renact and externalize or normalize the abuse that beta or anyone went through. delta still has a clear understanding of what abuse is and why it’s wrong, unlike killer, who doesn’t reflect or hesitate and isn’t hindered by traditional sense of morals when he’s in stage 2 and higher, which is pretty much why killer seems to hinge on color as his moral compass.

[izzyspussy]

anyway so seasons 1-early 3 mickey is a pessimist with a dash of nihilist (miserable), and because of that ian looks like an optimist verging on idealist to him.

the fact of the matter is that ian is not an optimist and he certainly is not an idealist. he's a little naive, sure, but less than what would be appropriate for his age. he's also not a pessimist or a nihilist (either kind). or a realist or a pragmatist or any of those.

no, ian is quite simply. unfathomably stubborn. and that is all.

he'll get into west point. he's absolutely certain of this. why? because he fucking said so.

he'll have a real relationship with mickey. they are in love and they are going to be together. this is true. how does he know? because. he. fucking. said so.

he doesn't have hope. he doesn't want things. that's pussy shit. there are precisely three types of things in this world: things ian isn't interested in, things ian already has, and things ian will have. that is simply that!

(which is obviously its own very specific mindset and is at least as extreme as pure optimism and pure pessimism, and is almost certainly just another fun little factor when the force of his will alone is not enough to change the reality of an ongoing traumatic event that contributes to the somewhat early onset of his bipolar disorder. but that's tangential.)

now. once again, disclaimer, these characters cease to exist past early season 5 for me, so there's every chance this next bit is exclusive to MY mickey and ian. there's just no way to know ❤️

that said. ian matures into a nihilist (carefree) - and i would say he's here-ish already in season 4, but in a maladaptive way at that stage - and then eventually matures further into a nihilistic (carefree)-leaning pragmatist.

mickey on the other hand - after a period of having no particular mindset of this type of thing at all which in effect amounts to a months-to-a-year long panic attack where his every action is fueled by emotional desperation and he has no solid concept of his own wants, needs, values, or future beyond the ever-present but totally incoherent certainty that he can't live without ian but ian can and will leave him with ease for even the slightest infraction or failure that terrorizes him like a weasel terrorizes a hen in his every waking moment - um. what was i saying.

oh right. mickey on the other hand, after All That, matures first into a sort of quiet idealism (kind of a pendulum swing maybe, but not quite not also progress, iygiygi), and then. into a less naive version of the old ian's way lmao.

there is no "that's how things are/go" or "that's how the world works" or "life is/isn't fair" or any fundamental human nature or any purpose or lack thereof to life or possible and impossible or likely and unlikely or anything else along any of those lines. there are only two types of things in the world: things that don't matter and mickey's next achievement. and that's that, baby!

and then eventually, mick finishes out at a relatively stable and sustainable realist-leaning optimism, heavily informed by romanticism of the Certain Things Are Meant To Be kind. like, he wouldn't necessarily express that or think of it in those terms. and he doesn't think it's a common thing, in fact it's rare and special and he's very lucky, and even if something is like that it still doesn't mean you don't have to put the work in for it to go well and end up Right. and he doesn't believe in a higher power or in Fate quite as such or in the will of the universe or a cosmic balance or anything like that really.

it's just, you know. sometimes. every now and then. there's just this one little thing that will continuously keep trying to happen without any heed to sense or logic or the incredible odds against it. just something in particular that will forever and always find a way to happen.

like say. for example. there's this gay kid, right? and he gets in this fight and he wins and he's about to bring down a tire iron and ruin this other idiot's pretty face and - for no discernible reason whatsoever - he just... doesn't. and maybe he'll think about it half a dozen years later and wonder why. that one tiny little thing that changed his whole fucking life, why did he do that? what was the reason? and there just. isn't one.

and that's not even all. see, these two dumbasses have no idea the other one is gay too, but some-fucking-how they don't have to say a word or even make any opening moves to just Know they want each other. it's like they read each other's fucking minds, even though he knows, he remembers, he didn't sense anything from ian. but for Some Fucking Reason he just never for a second considered ian wouldn't want him, and ian was in perfect time with him. and maybe he'll think back and try to find an explanation for this part too. was there some body language he read? was there some look in ian's eyes? but the answer is no every time.

and then after that, these two gay kids just can't be kept apart. they just can't. and it's not just that they inexplicably can't resist each other either. every time they're separated they find each other again, no matter what. even when they're the ones to separate themselves, situation after coincidence after happenstance after necessity keeps putting them in each other's orbits. secrecy and jealous exes and gun violence and imprisonment and infidelity and a fucking pathological fear of intimacy and conversion therapy and genuine threat to their lives and marriage to someone else and permanent life-altering illness can't break them up. at least not for long.

and then. somehow. SOME fucking how! after all that, and with the absolutely shit chances that they ever even hooked up in the first place, they actually fucking make it? they don't just get to be together, they get to be happy??

so no, he doesn't believe in god or destiny or soulmates or whatever the fuck. but at the same time, i mean. what other explanation is there?

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Alucard x reader

Requested on ao3! Reader finds a wolf dog patrolling the Hellsing manor and befriends him without knowing that it’s actually Alucard

Having finished your work for the time being, you decided to step out of the Hellsing manor to get some air and stretch your legs. As the sun was setting, you decided to take a little walk around the outside of the manor, occasionally greeting any other workers you had come across. You’ve been working for the Hellsing organization for a few years now, yet you tend to work behind the scenes instead of out on the field, and it was close to your apartment, so that was a plus.

You were brought back from your thoughts as you feel as if you’re being watched, making you look around to find… a fluffy black wolf dog staring right at you with red eyes. Red eyes? How odd. The wolf dog had been patrolling the outside of the manor, or at least, until he spotted you, now making his way over to you. You weren’t sure whether to run or stay, but… you had a feeling he wasn’t going to hurt you, despite how he looked.

Once in front of you, the wolf dog stopped and looked right at you, as if to get a better look at you. Curious, you held your hand out to pet his head, and surprisingly, he let you. You smiled faintly and kept petting his head.

“You know… you kind of remind me of someone.” You mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear you. The wolf dog simply tilts his head slightly out of curiosity.

“Yeah, you kind of remind me of Alucard, but.. that can’t be… right?” You chuckled a bit in response, pulling your hand back to your side. What you didn’t know… was that the wolf dog in front of you, was indeed Alucard. He had gotten bored of just being in his chambers, so he got out and decided to use his shapeshifting to see what was happening around the manor, and see who was around. You know about Alucard since you’ve seen him around a couple times before, and you have talked with him more than once.

“Shoot, it’s getting a bit late, I should get back home.” You spoke up, looking up at the sky as it started getting darker. Fortunately for you, your apartment wasn’t too far from here, but Alucard has now taken it upon himself to make sure you get back safely. Why? Well, not even he really knows. So when you started walking, he followed after you, keeping close to you to keep others from bothering you, while you kept a hand on his head/close to his neck as if to assure him that you were still there.

“Thanks for walking me home, you really didn’t have to do that.” You turned to face Alucard once you were in front of your apartment. He only nodded and turned to leave, giving you a glance before taking off.

“See you tomorrow.” You smiled faintly and walked into your apartment, getting ready for bed, hoping to see the wolf dog again tomorrow. Alucard, on the other hand, knew he would see you more often now. You were nice to him, and you weren’t scared of him, which intrigued him.

The next day, you had finished up your work rather quickly. Only because there actually wasn’t much to do, which was a little surprising to you considering there was usually a lot of work to be done, but you didn’t mind too much. You could use this extra time to look for the wolf dog from yesterday. You wish you had known his name so you could call for him. Though, it didn’t take very long for you to find him, as you saw him patrolling around a more shade covered area this time, so you made your way over to him, a smile on your face.

Since then, Alucard has been meeting you in the same spot just about every day, in his wolf dog form, as he wasn’t entirely ready to tell you the truth just yet. Plus, he was using this time as a way to get to know about you, and maybe to get a little kiss on the forehead and head pats here and there… but he wouldn’t admit such a thing, no.

However, he knew that he would have to tell you eventually, along with his feelings towards you though that was going to be a little more difficult than the first thing, so that’s what he was going to do the next time he saw you. Alucard waited for you in your usual meeting spot, looking over as he sensed your presence and heard your footsteps a few seconds after.

“Alucard..?” You were a little surprised to see him here instead of the wolf dog.

“You weren’t expecting me now, hmm?”

“Not really, but I don’t mean that in a bad way..! I’m just a bit surprised is all.”

“I know, you were expecting someone else.”

“A wolf dog, yeah! He has such pretty black fur and red eyes. Kind of reminds me of you.”

“Is that so?” He chuckled softly in response. “Well, about that,” and before you could ask what he meant, he disappeared in a cloud of black smoke and when the smoke disappeared, there stood your wolf dog companion.

“It’s you!!” You exclaimed, your eyes wide from shock. “Why didn’t I think about that sooner? Well, I thought he looked similar to you but I didn’t think it was you!”

“Ah, yes, there is still plenty you don’t know about me, my dear Y/n.” He changed back, a faint smirk on his face. “But I know quite a bit about you.”

“So you’ve been the one walking me home every day..”

“Indeed I have.”

“Well, I just want to say thank you.” You looked up at him with a soft smile on your face, “I really do appreciate that.”

“It was no problem at all, Y/n. I want to thank you for the company you’ve given me. You weren’t absolutely terrified of me, even in my other form.”

“If you really wanted me to spend time with you like this, you know you only needed to ask, Alucard.”

“I suppose.”

“But… you’re welcome. I enjoyed spending time with you, even if I wasn’t aware it was you in the first place. I’d still like to spend time with you.”

“Good.” He seemed a bit.. relieved? as though he was unsure whether you’d want to be around him anymore. As much as he wanted to tell you how he felt, he figured he should hold off on doing that for now. He held a gloved hand out to you.

“Now let’s get you home, shall we? It is getting rather late, hmm?”

“Yeah, let’s.” You took his hand into your own, a soft smile on your face as you walked with him, him keeping you safe from harm as usual, as you talked about whatever came to mind, whether it was about work or something else, Alucard listened rather intently as you two walked.

The walk was only about a few minutes, but as you approached your apartment, you felt a little… sad? You didn’t really want to leave him yet, but you knew he had things to do and you were sure Integra would need him for some mission soon.

“Y/n, you’ve gone quiet.” Ah, he’s noticed.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I was just.. thinking about something.”

“Oh..?”

“Well.. I don’t want this time to come to an end yet. I want to spend more time with you.”

“Is that so?” You nodded, looking up at him now, “I didn’t think you’d want to spend time with a vampire like me,”

“Well.. you see.. I really like you, Alucard. I know this may seem odd, or maybe even sudden, considering we’ve only really talked and spent time together a few times aside from the past few weeks, but it’s true.”

“You are an interesting one, my dear Y/n. For you see, I feel the same way.”

“Wait really?”

“I do. I was actually going to tell you sooner, but it seems you’ve beaten me to it.”

“This is wonderful..!” You turned to face him and hugged him, making him flinch a bit in response, but he hugged you back after a few moments.

“…come, let’s get you inside, where it’s safe.” He then let you go, but now holding your hand, as you continued your little walk back to your apartment, where you would spend the rest of the evening together.

[cuteniarose]

nia, r u doing ok??

No.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 6 thoughts

it’s been an exhausting day. work was awful. i was brave and didn’t cry whilst there. and for that, i deserve this episode even more than usual. 

oooooh it’s an internet episode!!!! an episode about an internet killer!!! that probably felt new and scary back then!!! i’m excited to see something i assume as naturally dangerous as hitchhiking to be seen as scary and new. let us jump in, and enjoy the adventures of our agents, and numb ourselves to the hardship of the outside world.

these two people are in a car. he is smooth talking her. oh… they only waited three months to meet in person after talking online. hmm… is that speedy or not? i guess that depends on who you ask. for me, i’m gonna say speedy. because they didn’t even see each other’s faces before this.

he has mysterious scars on his neck. yeah, i noticed that very conspicuous camera panning. the music is very ominous. and now they’re kissing. 

OH??? THERE IS A STICKY FLUID. IN HER MOUTH. an unusual one. not whatever you were thinking. what the hell… was that man some kind of insect????? there was real goop in there, man. eughhh it was very gross. 

cop is approaching the car next day. and she is like. jelly? as in, covered in gel. the gelatin monster has struck and apparently he’s surfing the net. 

(trust when i say i’m not a gelatin monster. or don’t trust. perhaps skepticism is better)

okay, investigation time. this guy shakes hands with mulder and entirely ignores scully. tells me a lot about his character very quickly. mulder has also got some more conventional looking shades this time around. perhaps his other ones were just not keeping the sun out like he had hoped for.

body reveal! so it seems that the goop has um. melted her skin? EUGH. mulder swabs the goop. it’s just a prop, i tell myself to avoid gagging. a prop with excellent construction that was very carefully crafted. shoutout prop team as always. 

detective looks real freaked out by the goop. yeah he’s not special in that regard.

mulder says he has heard of similar killings from women placing ads in the paper! i don’t want them to separate though, as he announce he’s going on an investigation while she does an autopsy. c’mon, can’t we do some teamwork in the same room?

scully looks disgusted at the bloody goop in her hand. this is appearing to be a universal sentiment.

the goop man is at the computer typing to another woman. and smiling mischievously. we learn, from a woman dropping a key off at his door, that his name is mr. incanto, and she thinks that since he types and gets a lot of packages, he must be a writer or an editor. and she wants him to read her poems. wow. leaping to conclusions here. i admire it. it’s clear she’s flirting with him, and the idea of a person you’re attracted to reading your poems is a wild one for me to entertain. personally i would rather explode crazy style.

scully is scrubbed up <3 and she is so cute <3 i don’t mean this in a condescending way… she just looks cute in a fully “i respect her capabilities” kind of way. don’t worry. but this man is not respecting her and is shocked she’s a doctor. rude as hell… could never be me.

he says he’s old fashioned. umm okay if you want to be all manly about it how about you cut up the goop body yourself… oh that’s right you can’t. because you don’t have the skill set. or even any skill sets, as far as i can tell.

he says this is effecting her judgement because the victim is a woman and he isn’t being sexist. IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR MOUTH MAN…. she is so patient even when she ought to rip his heart from his chest with her teeth

she’s making a face when he leaves like she really IS thinking about doing some heart ripping and then she gets into the recording mode. and the body has increased in goopiness. in fact. there is only a skeleton now and a LOT of liquid. oh… 

mulder is asking about the murder victim, and he’s sitting on a very 90’s printed couch, and yeah he looks good. don’t worry about it. he’s asking the victim’s roommate what chat room they met in. now personally, if i was talking to people on a chat room, i would not be telling my roommate the names of said chat rooms, but maybe it was different vibe wise at that time. imagine if my roommate knew i ran a blog like this. i couldn’t picture such a thing. and the victim would READ her roommate the letters???!? OH I CANNOT IMAGINE SUCH A THING!!!!

he uses the roommate’s house phone to call scully, who is dealing with a very wet skeleton. but that’s so funny to me. he wanted to use someone else’s phone to call her. maybe his phone still hadn’t been replaced since that kid melted it in episode 3.

he’s putting out a localized online warning… is that a thing? wow. you learn so much on this television program.

“in life, bones have the tensile strength of forged iron”, says scully. and i’m giggling. n kicking my feet.

ohhh the bone is SQUISHY. it is not supposed to be this way. but it did look quite satisfying. again, props team, shoutout.

oh tea… the body fat wasn’t there!!! it disappeared. scully is like, why would he do that, steal a victim’s fat. and i would love to know the same thing. 

another woman is preparing to meet with the goop monster. oh, but someone is telling her there was a warning SPECIFICALLY for woman in cleveland to not go meet people online! but she’s like nooo i’m a good judge of character. LIES LIES LIES. she’s only been talking to him for a MONTH???? HOW CAN YOU JUDGE A CHARACTER IN A MONTH?

the killer’s at a fancy restaurant looking place with a bouquet of flowers and he’s checking his watch. oh and he dumps the flowers!!! queen of self preservation saved herself tonight by standing him up??? yes, it appears this is the case!! 

now there are a bunch of ladies on the side of the road. i have only seen this happen in this show and never in real life, but maybe i'm not looking in the right direction. NO! he sees a woman and smiles. they go to a back alley… no!! but she won’t kiss him. okay, i think, she has a chance. alas. i was wrong. so he attacks. OH AND HE IS SLURPING ON HER BODY???? another woman finds her goop-ified. 

they’re at the scene and the detective is being awful (shocker!) but mulder hands over some of the letters from the killer, and notes that they contain letters from 16th century italian poems. which tells me he is familiar with 16th century italian poems. ohhhhhhhhhh. blushing a lil. 

focus. so the fellow would have access to niche italian poems, is what we are learning here. likely a college professor, or a grad student, or something along those lines.

the killer should also have a wound pattern, they note, because the woman scratched him very well.

and BLEGHHHH, cut to his place, where he’s cutting his wound??? like straight up trimming it like it’s fabric or something. nasty nasty nasty nasty!!!

someone is bringing him a package. and the woman who asked to show him her poems asks him to dinner?!?!?! but he says he’s busy. the teenage daughter reads him for filth. he’s creepy and smells weird. delivered by a girl who meant every word she said.

scully is posing impeccably, looking as someone types on a computer. it was formidable.

mulder comes by with some results and he sort of. scoops her out of the room. 😳

theory time in the hallway! hallway theory time!! always one of my favorite times. “okay, it’s not yet the finely detailed insanity that you’ve come to expect from me” <- at least he’s self aware 

FAT SUCKING VAMPIRE LET’S GOOOO. such a preposterous creature. i have to admire it.

there are examples of this in nature, right? “i don’t know too many scorpions who surf the internet” scully, you just offended the coolest scorpion alive somewhere out there. but they couldn’t hear you so it’s okay. just don’t ever say that again…

scully wants to brief the people involved in the case and the detective is again being weird. mulder recognizes this. i can see it.

okay, so the killer has some more niche italian poetry. and an email from the woman who saved herself by not showing up! nooo, i thought she had escaped!

knock at the door. it’s scully. but not at the door of the right guy!! the detective is at the door of the right guy!!! 

mulder makes some remark about not being a good salesman because no one answered the door. and yeah i giggled. but she cuts him off with the fact the detective hasn’t answered his calls or returned… has he been gooped?!

now the killer is out with the woman who previously saved herself. and she sees his skin. and she offers to drive him home!!! noooo ellen :( don’t fall for his tricks and lies

the poetry woman is at his door. she puts a HUGE thing of poems under his door. 

but back in the car he is about to smooch ellen. somehow poetry lady let herself into his room??? and a bunch of flies are around. 

(we later learn she was the housekeeper or landlord or something so yeah. she would have access to the keys. but at the time i was baffled)

goop monster and ellen don’t smooch because he sees the poem lady is in his room!!! and the detective is in the tub!!! and he walks in right as she sees this!!! oh no. violence ensues…

her daughter comes to the door. and asks where her mom is. and he GRABS her weird as hell. and says he’s leaving.

mulder is sitting on a table again because he’s weird. but the girl calls the police!!! and they found her mom’s body and the detective's. the little girl asks scully why someone would do this and she says she doesn’t know… STOP I’LL SOB

okay, this dude’s name is virgil and there are no records of him existing. virgil. damn. maybe he’s FROM 16th century italy, because that’s a 16th century sounding name. are there any italian legends of fat sucking vampires? can’t say i’m very familiar with their lore 

they’re trying to get into his computer and all the files were deleted. ohhh they have floppy disks!!! i love floppy disks 💾

the killer went to ellen’s place?!!?!? and she locks the door. ellen please pull out a glock at this time. 

scully sent out a warning to everyone in proximity. and three of them were already missing!!!! that is evil :(

and ellen got the email but he’s in the room. and he starts attacking… oh lord, just as the agents roll up. 

they get in formation and then kick down her door and WHEW they way they work as a team… i’m eating it up. sweeping the rooms. guns cocked. 

ellen is under some sheets and coated in goop whilst mulder does parkour to go and find this guy. GO GO MULDER RUN RUN!!! his voice is all growly while he holds a shadowy figure at gunpoint, but he only runs into a teenager. no! poor kid :(

NOOO… THE KILLER WAS HIDING IN THE BATHROOM AND SCULLY WAS GOING IN THERE TO GET SOME STUFF TO TAKE CARE OF ELLEN!! he smashed her head in the mirror and he starts to goop her until ellen does in fact roll up with a glock. and shoots him in the chest. YES ELLEN I KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU <3

so they have him in custody now and his skin is suuuuuuper dry and peeling and nasty. and scully asks what the hell he was doing and he goes on about stuff blah blah blah and then he quotes some italian and she gets freaked and dips. and we end with a hannibal-esque shot of his evil peeling nasty face. and some contemplative music.

so. that was gross.

grossness established. i once again kind of enjoyed this episode. like was i gagging, and not in the good way? yeah i was. but again with the suspense. i think the plot could be absolutely ridiculous- like an actual fat vampire- and if the plot and pacing are the right tempo, i’ll find myself fully absorbed into it. 

but i can’t help but feel that i’m missing something. the italian seemed too purposeful. is there some medieval tale of a fat vampire? i’m being so serious btw like actually. is that a reference that flew over my head? is it in dante’s inferno or something? i love history but middle ages europe always puts me to sleep so i can’t say i’m familiar with the literature or tropes beyond what i learned in art history class. where we never covered ANY sort of vampire. just a lot of baby jesus and also mary and sometimes adult jesus. 

hmm. so i’m wondering here what that was about. and yeah, i could google it. but again, more fun when you tell me things.

i mean, if it was something they just made up for fun, i get that too. like earlier we had that evil mermaid baby that lived in the waterways. and we had that evil twin that looked like the fiji mermaid. and eugene tooms the lizard man. the seriousness with which the situation is played enhances the campy angle when you ponder it.

overall, it was interesting to see a world where the internet was new and fresh and scary. now it’s scary in mostly familiar ways. but it was not always this way! and while i am a little confused on the concept of the episode itself- who exactly our monster of the week was, if he even WAS a monster of traditional sort of means- i won’t lie, the episode had me invested. there were also moral questions raised about how someone could do something so evil, specifically in relation to scully’s character, which probably speaks to her biggest fear being that anyone could pose a threat, which i think i’ll contemplate at another time, because it is fascinating, especially when you consider… i think it’s s2 episode 13? where the narrative also really dives into this question. how can people do evil things, and how can good people cope with knowing that it’s impossible to know who is capable of doing terrible things?

after a hard day at work in which a million things went sideways, it does feel nice to watch my pals mulder and scully do some sleuthing, no matter the situation in which they find themselves.

the goopsterrrrrrrr

[mic-check-stims]

Walkshipping board for that one anon from forever ago who asked about my ships

X-X X-X X-X

[b4kuch1n]

blood loss edition

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[13eyond13]

One of the main things I dislike about book 2 Lestat vs book 1 Lestat is it just takes away a lot of the interesting mystery about his character in the first book to have him definitively answer everything like: "oh actually I WAS hiding a bunch of secrets of the vampire universe and rules and hierarchy and history from you the entire time, and actually I WAS also filthy rich secretly the entire time due to a treasure left to me by my maker and didn't actually need you for your money at all, and also I wasn't a bit insecure about my lower class upbringing and poorer education and trying to compensate for that by being both showy and secretive about myself I was actually a noble, and also I CAN do a bunch of other vampire things that I never taught you to do or did in front of you even though we lived together in the same house as a family for like 70 years, and yes I DO hate following rules and doing what I'm told and keeping secrets but I did it because Marius said your fragile minds couldn't handle the truth if I DID tell you anything else, and also I DIDN'T want any revenge on Claudia or blame her for attempting to murder me or think I maybe should undo what I did by making her one bit, I was just being forced by the even EVILLER vampire to have her condemned to death, and also almost everything questionable or problematic or cruel that I did within the first book was either a lie told by Louis or secretly actually a kind and heroic thing I did because I cared about someone other than myself, IN FACT I SECRETLY THE ENTIRE TIME HAD A STRICT MORAL CODE I WAS FOLLOWING every time I casually killed an innocent npc in the first book, and whenever you watched on in horror at my cruelty and toying with my victims I was actually only killing scummy evildoers and Louis was just too dumb and romanticizing of humans to ever see it etc..." like FINE WHATEVER, I GUESS hahaha but I actually kind of liked you better when you were a bit meaner and a bit petty and a bit imperfect and a bit lame