#you ever get secondhand embarrassment for yourself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solxamber · 2 months ago

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Fairytales and Fever Dreams - Vil Schoenheit x reader

When you decide to beg a fairy for help at your lowest point, you didn't expect that he'd decide to help you— at the cost of you making skincare for him.

You’re a mage at the academy, and life has officially declared war on you. Seriously. You’re about this close to having a full-on breakdown, the kind where they find you cackling in the library while surrounded by half-finished spell scrolls. One more minor inconvenience and you swear, you’re going to walk out onto the quad, set fire to the herbology building, and just stand there, staring blankly as it burns, sipping tea.

And why? Because you have four—count them—four finals on the same day. You don’t know who pissed in the universe’s cereal, but apparently, you’re the one paying for it.

"Okay, it’s fine," you mutter to yourself while chewing on the end of a quill. "You just need one little miracle. Just a small one. Like, I don’t know, a meteor wiping out the school. Or the headmaster spontaneously combusting. Something normal like that."

But then, you remember the rumor—the kind of rumor people whisper about when they’re this close to a mental collapse. Oh yes, the whispered tale of the fairies in the forest at the edge of town. Supposedly, if you bring an offering to the fairies, they’ll grant you a wish. Any wish. No strings attached.

You snort. It’s probably a load of magical nonsense. But considering your current state of sleep deprivation (and let’s be honest, mild hysteria), you’re willing to give it a shot. Desperate times and all that.

So, you scrape together the fanciest honey and milk your student budget can manage, which is probably a 5/10 by fairy standards but hey, beggars can’t be choosers. You pack it up in a basket like some weird, broke Little Red Riding Hood and trudge out to the forest.

The second you arrive, you’re not even trying to be subtle or respectful about it. No, you go straight to begging.

“Please, fairies, PLEASE!” You fall to your knees dramatically, waving the basket around like you’re presenting some holy relic. “I’m begging you. I need help. I haven’t slept in three days, I’m running on a liter of coffee and sheer spite, and if I fail one more class, I’m gonna have to turn myself into a toad and live under a rock. Just—just one wish, that’s all I’m asking!”

It’s bad. Like, so bad, you’re half-expecting some animal to come along and put you out of your misery out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

But then, there’s this rustling sound behind you, and when you look up, someone is standing there.

Correction: the prettiest person you’ve ever seen is standing there.

He’s tall, ethereal, and glowing—literally glowing, like he bathes in moonlight and stardust. His hair’s all silky and perfect, his skin looks like it’s never heard of acne, and the expression on his face tells you that he’s about two seconds away from calling security on you.

“Why, exactly,” he starts, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow that could cut glass, “are you kneeling in front of my forest and making this embarrassing display?”

You blink. Several things occur to you all at once:

1. Fairies are real. Huh. You thought you were just being insane.

2. Holy hell, he’s the most beautiful person (fairy?) you’ve ever seen.

3. Wait—his forest?

You quickly wipe the pathetic tears from your face and stumble to your feet. “A-are you… a fairy?”

“No, I’m a sentient dust bunny,” he deadpans. “Yes, of course, I’m a fairy. What are you even doing here?”

You hesitate. He’s giving off serious annoyed model on a runway vibes, and you’re not sure if he’s going to hex you out of his forest or just roll his eyes so hard that you get flung into another dimension.

“I, uh… finals,” you mumble, the tears starting to well up again. “Four finals. Same day. And I haven’t slept. I’m one failed exam away from permanently turning into a raccoon.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like your existence is just too much for him. “And you thought the best course of action was to come here and… grovel?”

You nod pathetically. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to just walk away, leaving you to your breakdown. But then his eyes narrow, and he points at your backpack. “What’s that?”

“Huh?” You look down and see the sunscreen bottle sticking out. “Oh, uh, that’s just something I made. I’ve been working on a skincare formula for sensitive skin.”

He steps closer, plucking it from your bag with the grace of someone used to handling priceless artifacts. “Skincare, you say?” He opens it, sniffing it cautiously before dabbing a bit onto the back of his hand. His eyes light up for a second, and you swear you hear an angelic choir in the background. “Hm. Not bad. A bit of a lavender undertone. Smooth texture. SPF 50?”

You nod. “Y-yeah.”

He looks back at you, and for the first time since he appeared, you see the barest hint of approval on his face. “It’s hard to find good skincare products these days, even among the fairies.”

You’re not sure how to respond. Is this your life now? Trading finals survival for skincare tips with a beautiful fairy?

“Well,” he says, still admiring the product, “I suppose I could grant you one wish. One. But only if you agree to make more of these skincare products for me.”

“Really?” You blink, not entirely believing your luck. “You’ll help me?”

He gives you a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t do charity. But your skincare is adequate. And it’s not every day I meet someone this close to unraveling. It’s almost entertaining.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. “Deal. Deal. I’ll make you whatever skincare you want, just get me through these finals.”

He gives a nod, satisfied. “Then we have a deal.”

And just like that, you’ve somehow bartered your way out of academic doom with a fairy obsessed with sun protection. Let’s hope this arrangement works out better than the rest of your life so far.

Apparently, fairies like Vil don’t believe in things like cheating or, you know, the basic decency of using magic to fix your problems instantly. No, that would be too easy. And Vil—your very pretty, very exasperating new fairy overlord—has decided that the best way to help you pass your finals is to tutor you personally.

His price? One skincare product per lesson. And you, being surprisingly decent at making potions and cosmetics (alchemy major, what else), agreed because, at the time, you thought, How hard could it be?

Sweet summer child. You had no idea what you were getting into.

Because Vil? He’s not just strict. He’s villain origin story strict. His “tutoring” is so intense, so grueling, that you’re starting to wonder if he’s secretly training you for some kind of sadistic mage boot camp. At one point, you fail a poison-brewing technique, and he makes you redo it. Then again. And again. And again.

By the fifteenth attempt, you’re seriously contemplating bottling the poison and taking a little sip just to see what happens.

“Again,” Vil says, his voice icily calm, like he hasn’t just been watching you fail for an hour straight.

“I think I’m seeing stars,” you mutter, staring at the cauldron. “Should potions be giving me a near-death experience?”

“Focus,” he says, completely unfazed by your descent into madness. “If you can’t even get this basic potion right, I have serious concerns about your competency as a mage.”

You’re on the verge of a mental breakdown. One more failed attempt, and you’re going to throw yourself off the nearest cliff. Or better yet—turn yourself into a toad and hop into a pot of boiling water. Anything to escape the relentless perfectionism of Vil Schoenheit.

“Maybe I’ll just hex myself into a mushroom and live out the rest of my life in peace,” you grumble under your breath as you stir the potion yet again.

“ What was that?”

“Nothing!” You stir faster.

To your utter shock, the potion finally turns the right color. You’ve done it. You’ve successfully brewed the poison, and it only took, what, half your lifespan?

Vil inspects it with a critical eye, and after a long, painful pause, he says, “Acceptable.”

“Acceptable?!” You want to scream. This is the culmination of blood, sweat, tears, and the remnants of your sanity, and all he has to say is acceptable?

“Yes, acceptable,” Vil repeats, as if your suffering isn’t the most amusing thing he’s seen all week. “You’ll need to refine your technique, of course, but this will suffice for now.”

You groan, head in your hands. “I’m going to transmute myself into a sock and live in someone’s laundry basket.”

But here’s the kicker: despite all of Vil’s strictness, he’s actually the nicest person (fairy?) you’ve ever met. You don’t know if that’s pathetic or straight-up depressing, but still, it’s true. He’s picky, yes, but he cares.

Apparently, Vil has a radar for poor life choices because one day, after what feels like your 57th failed poison attempt, he takes one look at the sad pile of instant noodles and energy drinks cluttering your desk and clicks his tongue in disapproval.

"You've been eating this?" He gestures at the disaster that is your meal—a cup of ramen sitting next to an open bag of questionable chips. His expression could curdle milk. "Do you actually value your internal organs, or are you trying to audition for the role of a trash panda?"

You blink, staring at your gourmet spread, and then back at him. "Excuse me, I’ll have you know, this is an advanced student diet. We run on caffeine and MSG."

He raises an eyebrow. "You’re not running on anything. You’re sputtering at best."

You open your mouth to argue, but then glance down at the pathetic excuse for food in front of you. Okay. Fine. Maybe you are sputtering. But what are you supposed to do, handcraft five-course meals between four finals and Vil’s poison-torture sessions?

Vil sighs dramatically, as if your very existence is a personal affront. "I’m not letting you continue this… self-destruction. You’re going to eat real food even if it kills you." He waves a hand, and suddenly a basket of the most beautiful, vibrant fruits and vegetables you've ever seen appears out of thin air. It's like the entire organic section of a high-end grocery store, but, you know, without the soul-crushing price tags.

"Where did you even get all this?" you ask, poking suspiciously at a particularly shiny apple. "Did you steal it from some enchanted Whole Foods?"

Vil glares at you like you’ve personally insulted his lineage. "I foraged it from my forest, you uncultured turnip."

You blink. "I’m a potato now, and a turnip? What’s next? Are we making a root vegetable salad?"

Vil rolls his eyes. "No, we’re making something that doesn’t resemble a cry for help. Get to it."

You sigh, but with Vil watching like a disapproving food critic, you figure you might as well try to impress him. You rummage through the basket, grab a few ingredients, and somehow manage to throw together a halfway decent stir-fry. You may be broke, but you can cook. It’s one of the few things that hasn't gone completely sideways in your life.

You serve it up with a flourish, smirking a little. "Voilà, a proper meal. Happy now?"

Vil inspects the plate with his usual level of judgment. You half-expect him to whip out a magnifying glass and start searching for flaws. Finally, he takes a bite, chews thoughtfully, and then gives you a rare, grudging nod of approval.

"Surprisingly competent for someone who survives on garbage," he says, in what you can only assume is Vil’s version of high praise.

"Wow, a compliment. I feel blessed," you deadpan, but you’re grinning. It’s not every day you get validation from a fairy with standards so high he probably judges oxygen.

Vil continues eating, and you join him, secretly proud of the fact that you managed to cook something that didn’t send him into a rant about toxins and poor life choices. For a moment, the two of you sit in companionable silence, just… eating. It’s weirdly nice.

After you both finish, Vil leans back, looking mildly satisfied. "If you continue to feed yourself like a proper human being," he says, "you might actually survive your finals."

"Yeah, well, if I keep spending time with you, I might also survive on sheer fear," you mutter.

He smiles, that rare, dazzling smile that makes your brain short-circuit for a moment. "Fear is a good motivator. But I expect more than just survival from you. I expect excellence."

You groan. "You know, for a fairy who showed up because of my embarrassing begging, you sure do expect a lot."

Vil just smirks. "You begged for help. I’m making sure you don’t embarrass yourself further by failing."

"Touché," you admit, stuffing another bite of food into your mouth to avoid further conversation.

You know, maybe being insulted by the prettiest fairy in existence while eating fresh, organic food isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you.

But soon enough, it was back to work. After the food debacle, you whipped up a fresh batch of moisturizer for him. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before, so you’re not expecting much.

Then Vil tries it. And his entire face lights up like you’ve just handed him the elixir of eternal youth.

“This is… impressive,” he says, his voice soft with genuine surprise. “It’s incredibly hydrating, and the texture is—” He pauses, then flashes you a smile that’s so dazzling, it practically sparkles. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

And then, out of nowhere, he leans over and kisses you on the cheek.

You freeze.

Your brain flatlines.

“Wha—Did you just—?”

Vil pulls back, completely unfazed by the fact that he just KISSED YOU. “If you continue to make products of this quality, I may have to keep you around longer.”

Your heart is still trying to restart, but you manage to nod. “Yeah… yeah, sure. Skincare. I can do that.”

You stare at him, wondering if this is real life or if you’ve just died and gone to some bizarre, fairy-run skincare hell. Because if that’s what’s happening, it’s starting to feel weirdly okay. Especially with the way he’s smiling at you.

And as you walk away, still reeling, you catch yourself thinking, Is dropping out of the academy to become Vil’s personal skincare maker really such a bad idea?

Honestly? With a smile like that? You’re starting to think it’s the best idea.

You’ve finally survived—ahem mastered—the hell that was poisons and advanced magical theory under Vil’s terrifyingly perfect supervision. You can now confidently brew lethal concoctions and analyze obscure spells without mentally cursing out every deity you can name. That’s progress. But of course, your next subject is Magical Beasts, and because life apparently hates you, it’s your worst one yet.

When you express this to Vil, expecting some helpful advice or perhaps even a break (hah, wishful thinking), he just waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll ask a friend for help,” he says simply.

And that’s how you end up in the presence of the most extra fairy you’ve ever seen in your life. (Okay, you’ve met a grand total of two fairies, but still.)

The fairy in question bursts into your study room in a whirlwind of sparkles and sheer chaos, trailing a cloud of rose petals and the distinct scent of overly expensive perfume. He’s tall and elegant, his wings shimmering with iridescent hues, and before you can so much as blink, he’s speaking a mile a minute in a mix of French and pure gibberish.

“Mon cher! Quelle horreur! This room is an insult to aesthetics! Non, non, I simply cannot work in these conditions!” he cries dramatically, gesturing wildly at your meticulously organized notes.

You blink. “…What?”

But he’s already prancing around, rearranging your books and scattering glitter like some kind of deranged fairy godmother. Then, with zero transition, Rook starts rambling about magical beasts and their habitats in a way that has your head spinning. One minute he’s critiquing your choice of ink color (“Black? How dull!”), and the next he’s rattling off obscure beast facts with the enthusiasm of a caffeinated professor.

“The Hippogriff prefers moonlight baths! Ah, and the Knarl must be serenaded with music, or it will—how you say?—stab you!” he chirps, waving his delicate hands around in a way that seems more dangerous than helpful.

You’re sitting there, bewildered and slightly concerned for your sanity. “Wait, wait, wait, so—hold up, what do I do if a Knarl shows up in the daytime?”

Rook stares at you like you’ve just asked if water is wet. “Why, you run, of course!” Then he bursts into laughter, as if this is the funniest joke he’s ever heard.

By the end of the afternoon, you’ve lost count of the number of strange and sometimes horrifying tidbits he’s thrown at you. You’re pretty sure you’ve somehow become an expert in magical beast theory without consciously realizing it, and the sheer absurdity of the situation is enough to make you feel like your brain’s been hijacked.

“And that,” the fairy declares with a dramatic twirl, “is how you tame a Chimaera!”

You blink, staring at your notes, which are now a colorful mess of drawings, beast diagrams, and snippets of what you hope are actual instructions and not just fashion advice. “…I feel like I’ve learned a lot. But also absolutely nothing.”

“Perfect!” he crows. “You have done magnifique!”

Before you can process what the heck just happened, you decide to thank him the only way you know how: by giving him a small, beautifully-packaged vial of a custom serum. You’ve worked hard on this formula, combining the best of alchemy and skincare magic, and as soon as you hand it to him, his eyes go wide.

“Pour moi? C’est incroyable!” He clutches it dramatically to his chest, as if you’ve just gifted him a crown jewel. Then, without warning, he’s leaning in way too close, inspecting your face with an intensity that borders on obsessive. “Mon Dieu, you are a true artiste! So beautiful! So—”

“Excuse me,” a low, frosty voice cuts in.

You turn just in time to see Vil gliding over, expression smooth but eyes narrowed. With the grace of a professional diplomat (or maybe a particularly possessive cat), he slips between the two of you, placing a firm hand on the other fairy’s shoulder and gently guiding him away from your personal space.

“Thank you for your assistance, Rook,” Vil says with a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We appreciate your expertise, but I believe that’s enough for today.”

Rook pouts but finally relents. He throws one last, longing glance at your serum and then at you, as if you’re both equally captivating. “Ah, c’est dommage… I shall return!” With that, he flits off, leaving you standing there, more confused than ever.

You turn to Vil, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… thanks?”

But Vil isn’t looking at you like a savior. No, he’s looking at you like you’ve just betrayed his entire bloodline.

“Excuse me,” you ask, blinking in confusion. “Did… did I do something wrong?”

“You,” Vil says slowly, his voice dangerously soft, “are my skincare human.”

You stare at him. “Um. What?”

“Mine.” Vil’s gaze flickers pointedly between you and the direction Rook flew off in, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I did not agree to share your talents with anyone else.”

Oh. Oh.

“Vil,” you say, a grin spreading across your face despite yourself. “Are you… jealous?”

The way his expression shifts from imperious to indignant would almost be funny if it weren’t so incredibly satisfying. “Jealous?” he scoffs, tossing his hair back with a haughty flick. “Don’t be absurd.”

You glance pointedly at the pink tips of his ears, which are steadily darkening into a bright red.

“Riiight,” you say slowly. “Totally not jealous at all. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m not,” he insists, crossing his arms, but his voice is just a fraction too defensive.

“Sure, sure,” you say with a mock-serious nod, fighting to keep a straight face. “It’s just that, you know, your ears are kind of giving you away.”

Vil sputters, shooting you a glare that could melt glass. “You—!”

“I’m just saying!” you chirp, smirking as you lean back. “I’m your skincare human. Got it, boss.”

He narrows his eyes, but the flush on his ears betrays him. “Remember it,” he huffs, turning sharply on his heel. “And don’t you dare give away my products to anyone else without consulting me first.”

You watch him stalk off, your grin widening. Maybe studying under Vil isn’t so bad after all.

Finally, your last subject: Offensive Magic. You’re almost at the finish line, but there’s one little problem. Apparently, dueling Vil or Rook is a fast track to the afterlife, and you aren’t too keen on becoming a cautionary tale.

That’s how you find yourself facing off against the youngest of the bunch—a fairy named Epel. He looks as thrilled to be there as you are, which is to say, not at all.

“Vil made me do this,” he mutters under his breath, glaring at nothing in particular.

You quickly realize that Epel’s main emotion is mild resentment, which honestly? Relatable.

The duel begins, and you’re expecting something simple—maybe some low-level spells, something to pad out your barely passing grades. But then Epel smirks, lifts his hand, and suddenly, half the field explodes in a brilliant display of magic that has you rethinking your life choices. Like, seriously reconsidering everything that led you to this exact moment.

You’re left standing there, jaw practically on the floor as bits of dirt rain down around you. “Holy shit,” you breathe. “You’re so cool.”

Epel freezes. His eyes dart to you, clearly shocked by the praise, and he suddenly looks a lot less surly. “...Really?”

“Yeah! That was amazing! I didn’t even know you could do that!”

He rubs the back of his neck, trying to hide a smile. “Well, I’ve been practicing…”

And just like that, you’re friends. Bonded over the mutual understanding that Offensive Magic is both terrifying and awesome when Epel’s involved.

Later that day, after a lesson where you actually didn’t almost explode yourself (personal growth!), you, Vil, and Epel are lounging in the forest. Rook’s off doing...whatever mysterious thing he does, leaving you all in relative peace. You’re casually chatting about the lessons when Epel, totally offhandedly, drops the biggest bomb of the century.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty lucky the king of the fairies decided to help you out.”

You blink. “The what?”

Epel gives you a look like you’ve just asked if the moon was real. “The king of the fairies. You know, Vil.”

You almost choke. “Vil’s the king of the fairies?” Your voice cracks like you’ve hit puberty again.

Vil, lounging nearby, doesn’t even flinch. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“NO. YOU DIDN’T.”

“Well, now you know.”

You stare at him, mind reeling. “I’ve been—wait—what in the Sevens—you’re the king of the fairies? And you just—casually tutor people? Like it’s no big deal?!”

Vil sighs, flipping through a book as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “I thought it was obvious.”

“It was not obvious!” You’re flailing at this point, and Epel is snickering behind his hand, clearly enjoying your existential crisis.

Vil’s still cool as a cucumber, but when you stammer, “No wonder you’re the most beautiful fairy I’ve ever seen,” you catch the faintest flicker of a smirk on his face. He straightens up just a little bit, clearly preening at the compliment.

Rook suddenly appears out of nowhere, laughing like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing in his life. “Ah! How charming! Our humble little mage finally sees the light!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, feeling your face heat up. “This is too much. My brain can’t handle this.”

The lesson ends, and you decide to thank Vil the only way you know how—by crafting him a night cream as a parting gift. You’ve gotten pretty good at making skincare, and you can tell he’s been eyeing this particular blend.

But then, in a rare moment of what can only be described as vulnerability, Vil hands you the jar and says, “Could you…apply it for me?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

He’s holding it out to you, but he’s not meeting your eyes, and—wait, are his hands shaking? You squint. Is he nervous?

Nah. Can’t be. Vil doesn’t do nervous.

“Sure,” you say, trying not to overthink it. You take the jar and start gently massaging the cream into his flawless skin. Vil closes his eyes, and for a moment, it’s almost…peaceful.

“You’re really good at this,” he murmurs.

You smile to yourself, oblivious to the emotional storm brewing inside him. “Thanks! I’ve been practicing.”

What you don’t realize is that this was your last lesson. Vil knows this. And for some reason, it’s hitting him hard. He’s spent all this time tutoring you, teaching you everything he knows, and now…you won’t need him anymore. You won’t come back. You’ll pass your exams and move on with your life, leaving him behind. And the thought of that—it stings more than he wants to admit.

Meanwhile, you’re completely unaware of his inner turmoil, humming to yourself as you finish applying the cream. “There you go. All set!”

You stretch, packing up your things, already mentally planning your next skincare batch for him. “Well, I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Wait.” Vil’s voice is soft, almost hesitant. You blink as he suddenly pulls you into a hug, catching you completely off guard.

“Uh…Vil?”

He’s holding you tightly, and when he speaks, his voice is a little sad. “Good luck.”

You frown, confused. “Why do you sound so sad? I'll pass my exams for sure after all your help.”

He doesn’t respond. You shrug and hug him back, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Alright, see you later, drama king.”

And with that, you stroll off, leaving Vil standing there, still holding on to the weight of his unspoken feelings.

Rook, watching from a distance, smiles knowingly. “Ah, how bittersweet…”

Epel just rolls his eyes. “Man, this is like watching a soap opera.”

You passed your exams. Scratch that—you topped them. You’re basically an academic legend now, leaving everyone wondering what kind of ancient god you made a pact with. The professors are whispering your name like you’re some ancient prodigy who’s been secretly acing exams since the dawn of time.

Naturally, you’ve decided to celebrate by making your magnum opus: the most legendary lip balm the world has ever seen. The kind of balm that could revive a dying star, or, more realistically, soothe the chapped lips of a certain fussy fairy.

With your glorious lip balm in hand, you set off to the forest to see Vil. The path is familiar, and yet, today something feels... off. The trees look droopy, the flowers are wilting—like someone forgot to water this whole section of the forest.

“Oh, great,” you mutter, stepping over a vine that looks like it’s given up on life. “Did everyone just forget what hydration is?”

When you reach Vil’s cottage, your gut instinct kicks into overdrive.

Something’s wrong. Really wrong. Your heart is racing. You knock once. Twice. Still nothing. Panic sets in, and before you know it, you’re knocking the door clean off its hinges in your haste.

“Oops,” you whisper, but there’s no time to dwell on it because you see someone on the bed. It’s Vil, and he’s looking about as far from his usual flawless self as you’ve ever seen. He’s feverish, pale, and frankly, it kind of looks like he's dying.

“Vil!” you rush over, shaking him gently. He opens his eyes, squinting at you like you’re an overly bright light in the middle of his fever dream.

“I didn’t know hallucinations could be so vivid,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse.

“What hallucinations? I’m real!” You’re practically crying now, shaking him harder. He just smiles faintly, completely convinced that you’re some fever-induced mirage.

Fantastic. Not only is he sick, but he also thinks you’re a figment of his imagination.

Frantically, you start brewing a cooling potion, your hands shaking as you mix the ingredients. Vil just watches you with a dazed, slightly amused expression, like he’s impressed that his hallucination has such a good grasp on potion-making.

“I’m real,” you repeat, as you pour the potion down his throat. He gives a tiny nod before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Cue full-on panic mode. You don’t know what’s happening or why Vil’s like this, so you do the only thing you can think of—you send a carrier pigeon to Rook, because of course fairies don’t have phones.

Rook shows up in record time, practically gliding into the cottage like some kind of majestic hunting bird. He takes one look at the pitiful scene—Vil feverish and weak, you hovering like an anxious mother hen—and smiles.

“Oh, he’s heartbroken,” Rook declares, as if that explains everything.

“Heartbroken?!” you echo, disbelief dripping from every syllable. “I saw him two days ago, and he was fine. How could he be heartbroken in two days?!”

“Ah,” Rook says, his eyes twinkling with dramatic flair, “fairies can only fall in love once, and when they do, they fall hard. He thought you wouldn’t return after your exams. He was suffering in silence, believing you’d move on without him.”

You stare at Rook, dumbfounded. “Is he blind?!” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been horrendously in love with him since day one! How could he not notice?”

Rook just beams at you, like you’ve confirmed his favorite romantic theory. “Ah, l’amour. So tragic, yet so beautiful.”

At this point, you’re ready to throw your hands up in frustration. How does Vil not notice? You’ve been making him skincare products, practically living in his cottage, and hovering over him like a lovesick puppy. Could he really think you were just going to leave? But of course, Vil—being Vil—had assumed you’d outgrow him and move on to something better, leaving him behind like a discarded serum bottle.

With renewed determination, you take care of Vil, nursing him back to health with potions and plenty of water. You even manage to coax him to eat something other than the fairy equivalent of air-dried kale. Slowly, he starts looking more like himself, his fever fading and his color returning. But when he finally wakes up, fully lucid, his eyes widen in shock.

“You... you’re real?” he whispers, staring at you like you’re some miraculous vision.

“Yes, I’m real,” you huff, crossing your arms. “And I made this.” You pull out the lip balm you’ve been working on, your prized creation. You swipe some on your lips and then lean down to kiss him.

Vil blinks, stunned into silence. After a moment, a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s... a surprisingly effective balm.”

You grin, feeling the tension melt away. “Maybe you should test it again.”

Vil wastes no time, pulling you in for another kiss, his lips soft and cool from the balm. He kisses you a second time, then a third—because, well, it’s important to make sure the balm has long-lasting effects, right?

But then, you pull back slightly, the grin slipping from your face. “Vil, I... I passed all my exams. I even got an offer to move to the capital.”

Vil’s entire body tenses. His hands, still resting on your waist, tighten slightly as his eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place—fear? Dread? Whatever it is, it’s like a storm cloud settling over him.

“Oh.” His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to it, like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable. “I see.”

You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself so carefully, as if preparing for you to tell him you’re leaving. That you’re going to take the offer and disappear from his life, just like he feared. He’s already trying to let you go, even as his hands tremble slightly against your waist. It hits you all at once—how terrified he must have been, thinking you’d leave him behind.

For a moment, you just watch him, your heart aching at the sight of his barely concealed distress. And then, finally, you say, “I declined the offer.”

Vil’s breath catches. His eyes snap up to yours, wide with disbelief. “You... you what?”

You smile, leaning in closer. “I declined. I’m not going anywhere, Vil. In fact...” You take a deep breath, your grin widening. “I’m opening a skincare shop right here, on the edge of the forest. And I’m going to live here. With you. No arguments.”

For a moment, Vil just stares at you, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Then, slowly, the tension in his body dissolves, replaced by pure, unfiltered relief. His hands, which had been shaking moments ago, steady as they pull you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“You’re staying?” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’m staying,” you confirm, your heart swelling at the way he’s holding you, like he’s afraid to let go.

Vil presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice so soft, you almost miss it.

Your heart skips a beat. You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too, drama king.”

Vil huffs out a small, breathy laugh, pulling you down into the bed with him, his arms wrapped securely around you. For a moment, everything is still, peaceful, as you lie there together, tangled in each other’s arms. Neither of you says a word, content just to hold each other, the weight of the past few days finally lifting.

And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth, knowing that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—by Vil’s side, where you’ve always belonged.

I'm so deeply in love with this man it's kinda embarrassing

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil #twst vil #twst vil x reader

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izvmimi · 11 months ago

Text

cw: fluff. reader is wearing a dress and has breasts. suggestive.

you let out a loud sigh as yuuji opens the door to your apartment, first shepherding you inside, a palm pressed gently on your cold-chilled winter coat. he helps you out of it, sweet as can be, as the two of you stop first in the entryway to shake snow and cold off of your bodies, smiling to himself in the dim light as you finally allow yourself to release the complaint you've been holding in now that you're finally in the privacy of just the two of you.

"okay, so next time we agree to go on a double date with aoi, you have to make sure that he's coming with a real person. what the fuck do we look like at a four-person table with a framed photo?"

yuuji starts to laugh which only makes you frown further. "why are you laughing? he ordered a real entrée for her!"

"i mean, can you honestly say you're surprised?" yuuji replies chuckling as the image of his practically nonconsensual best friend scooping up an untouched entrée in a doggie bag, an enamored smile on the delusional man's face all the while, is conjured in his mind. you narrow your eyes at your boyfriend's easygoingness, but he's right. you shake your head in dramatic distaste but yuuji shrugs, adding, "it's not like he's not hurting anyone."

it's true he's not.

"secondhand embarrassment is a real danger, you know," is murmured under your breath, despite it all, as you balance on one foot to take off your boots.

"i'm more amused you were embarrassed by that and not the fact that he took 'Takada-chan' to the movies with us and paid for a reclining seat."

yuuji laughs again as you suck your teeth, then wobble unexpectedly. he quickly holds onto you to keep you steady then bids you to stand, kneeling down to untie your shoelaces for you. your face warms quickly as you look at him.

"you don't have to do that," you say, reflexively.

"you're right. i don't have to do this," he repeats, but he smiles up at you, grin cheerful, and you're reminded that nothing he's ever done for you has been done outside of lovingly. your cheeks heat up again as you step onto your carpet and yuuji follows behind quickly, catching up with you in one long stride, and his arms wrap around your waist. his hands smooth out the front of your dress, then rest where the fabric clings to your thighs.

"did you help just to get me out of my clothes quicker?" you try to tease, but your pulse quickens, betraying you. his chin presses softly onto your shoulder, and his face turns, kissing your cheek then the side of your neck.

"mmm... maybe."

you let yourself relax into his hold, and his hands creep up higher, settling at the base of your bosom. his lips close around the top of your earlobe, then teeth gently bite down, and your breath hitches. you freeze, hoping for him to touch you more or move, something. anything.

yuuji pauses, then lets out another soft chuckle, the weight of it deeper than his usual laughter, darker. you can feel how hard he is, pressing against the crotch of his pants, the curve of your ass.

"i just had a bad thought," he whispers into your skin.

you ask him what, breathier than you mean to.

his hands squeeze your breasts through your clothing tighter.

"just gloating a little bit. i don't have to fantasize, because i'm lucky enough to have the girl of my dreams, right here-"

a hand leaves your chest to cup your face in its palm. you swallow thickly, dryly, heat rushing to the space between your thighs.

"- right within my reach."

#yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #daydreams: jjk #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #itadori yuuji smut #mimi's notes

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paperclip-skz · 2 months ago

Text

First Play

fem*Reader x Bang Chan

*WARNING*

contains: kissing, secondhand embarrassment, "first time" in a sense, fingering, oral (fem receiving), not proofread; I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 1.8k

*****

You sit patiently in the waiting room. Your nails dig into your thighs as anxiety spikes through your spine.

“ Ms. L/N, the doctor will see you now,” the pretty secretary sparkles at you.

This is it—your first-ever scene. Your friend signed you up for this because she knows you’ve been wanting to do this forever. She’s listened to you rant about this for years! Finally, she put in a good word for you with the intimacy company she works with.

You knew what she did for a living, and it never bothered you. Actually, you thought she was cooler because of it. She helped people achieve their utmost hidden desires safely, securely, and thoroughly.

The blinding bright walls illuminate your way to the farthest door to the right. “Right through there, and the doctor will be with you shortly.” The lady opens the door for you. You walk in, but not before turning back and seeing the lady give you a wink before closing the door. You could hear the subtle click of her heels walking away from the door.

Your throat closes in both fear and excitement. You take in your surroundings, noticing the “set” replicates a stereotypical doctor's room. It has a big foamy bed right in the middle, a counter with small gadgets and gloves organized right next to the sink, and a bright light right above the bed. The two things that stand out to you are the bright meddle poles with places for feet connected to the sides of the bed and the giant mirror plastered on the wall right in front of the bed.

No one is in the room, so you assume the “doctor” is on his way. You told your friend you didn’t want to know who your instructor was; the last thing you wanted was someone you knew to see your most intimate sides of you. You slowly make your way to the bed, sitting down and crinkling the foam. You awkwardly fiddle with your hands as you wait patiently; you stare at yourself in the mirror, fiddling with your hair and how the top you chose to wear rests on your body.

“Okay, so Ms. L/N, it says here. " Your head whips around to meet the eyes of your “doctor,” but you're surprised to find coffee-stained eyes parried with steel-rimmed glasses. His dimpled smile reaches his eyes, and his big hands grasp the clipboard.

You feel a sudden drop in your heart as you see him. He's incredibly handsome, and his size is impressive. His broad shoulders and imposing frame make you feel tiny in comparison. Suddenly, you feel intimidated and nervous; the tingles of anxiety claw at your skin.

Chan’s eyes widen, seeing your discomfort. He’s quick to close the door behind him and turn his body to you. “Are you okay?” his voice is even sexier than he is. His intoxicatingly thick Australian accent captivates you as the dark strands of hair effortlessly fall against his handsome face.

You almost forget to answer him until he reaches out to touch your arm. “Yes…yes... yes, I’m okay. I'm just nervous,” you say weakly, still shaky with nerves.

“There's nothing to be nervous about. You can stop this whenever you like, and you control how fast I go and every other aspect of this. All you need to do is trust me.” for whatever reason, you do. You do trust him; you trust him and his deep eyes that you could get lost in.

You nod your head, not forgetting to answer him with a quiet “okay.” You read in the contract that verbal confirmation from both parties was a must. And with that, Chan snaps back into character.

“Alright then, Ms. L/N. You're here because you had some complications with your canal?” Chan stretches the room around to reach a rolling stool. He grabs it to his at the end of the bed, right in front of you.

“Y-yes. I tried masturbating, and I noticed the stretch stung,” you answer with as much confidence as you can.

He nods his head in acknowledgment. “Well, my name is Doctor Chan, or you can call me Chris. Whichever you like works for me.” He flashes that wide smile at you one more time. “Shall we begin?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow.

“Of course, doctor,” you whisper. You begin to lift your legs as Chan fixes the medal bars.

“Oh, Ms. L/N., you’ll need to remove your pants.” Chan is trying to hold back his smirk, but you can still see his lips twitch.

“Oh, right!” you giggle to yourself. You unbutton your jeans and start to shimmy your way out until two large hands stop you from lifting your hips.

“May I help?”

You swallow and slowly lay your back down. Chan makes a dramatic show of feeling out the fabric of your jeans, raking his hands up and down the sides of your thighs. Finally, he reaches the button and zipper of your jeans, irritatingly slow. His hands cascade the fabric down your legs, with the help of you lifting your hips, leaving you in just your innocent white panties.

Chan bites his lower lip, seeing the little wet spot on your panties. His body rumbles with the idea that he created that little spot, that he’s the reason you're so wet right now. “I’m going to have to remove these as well.” You crane your head up, watching him stare at your covered sex.

“Please do, doctor.” You rest your head back on the comforts of the bed. You can feel his fingers dance on the edge of the thin fabric. Eventually, Chan hooks his finger to pull your panties down your legs, leaving you bare for him.

“You are stunning,” he says in a breath. It makes your skin heat and your core thump with need.

“Doctor, I think we’ve gotten to a point where you can just call me Y/N.”

“Very well. Y/N, will you kindly place your legs here?” Chan directs your attention to the perfectly placed feet rests on either side of your feet. You do as you are told, creating a perfect, open view for Chan.

Chan sucks in a break at seeing your already-soaked cunt, perfectly on display for him. He can feel his cock twitch in his boxers. Every sheer nerve inside him wills not to lose control in front of you right now; he wills himself not to devour your leaking arousal or to take you here and now, raw and with no end in sight.

“Chan?”

Your soft voice shakes him out of his head, and back to the scene in front of him, with your lust-filled eyes and your dripping pussy staring at him. Chan clears his throat and easily slips on his “mask.”

“I’ll start by warming you up and seeing if anything makes you uncomfortable. You will tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable.” He says this like a demand rather than a question, and the mix of authority and admiration in his tone fills your body with an unfamiliar feeling… a good feeling.

You can feel his fingers explore the outskirts of your folds, teasing you before actually touching you. It makes you squirm slightly.

"From your consultation, you've said that you notice your canal being too tight for masturbation, right?" he asked, sitting on the stool between your legs. You nodded, "Yes, I tried inserting two fingers like I normally do, but the stretch stung,"

“Alright… tell me if this is too much.” he rubs his fingers across your slik folds, coating his digits. Slowly he inserts his two fingers into your warm cunt. He can feel you clench at the stretch, which makes his jaw clench.

“Does this hurt?” Chan looks up from between your legs only for his breath to get caught in his throat; your eyes are closed, and your lip is biting into your lip; your face is the definition of pleasure, and he’s not sure how long he can hold back.

“No,” you respond with a whimper.

“Okay then, I’ll begin to move.” with that, his finger starts to slide in and out of your walls. Your pussy is gushing with your arousal. As you breathe, your chest rises and falls in sync with Chan's fingers.

Your body squirms for more, and Chan is quick to pick up exactly what you want. He curls his finger every so slightly to reach that gummy spot inside you. Once he hears the low moan, you admit he continues to rub against that particular spot.

Your moans blend with your whimpers and they become the only sound in the room. Chan’s fingers have picked up a slight rhythm, enough to make your arousal drip over his fingers and down the curve of your ass. Your body searches for more friction; your orgasm is so close you can feel it on the tips of your fingers.

Chan can’t take it anymore, with how much you are gushing around his, how your moans sing around the room, and how much your body is craving to be touched. He shouldn’t; he knows he shouldn’t. You're here to get fucked into oblivion. You are not here for his pleasure…..but he needs to taste you.

Your orgasm is hanging on the cliff, and your repeated “yes’s” are a sign of it until his fingers are gone. Your whine is cut off by an unfamiliar wet muscles pressing onto your clit. Your head snaps to look at the man eating you out like you are his last meal between your thighs. Your hand reaches out to tangle into his hair, and your hips lose all control, grinding against his tongue.

Your moans are louder than you care to admit, but you couldn’t keep them quiet even if you wanted to, not with how Chan’s lips suck around your clit and how his tongue darts out to enter your wet walls. It's not long until you're screaming his name and coating his chin with your juices.

Chan looks up at you, leaving gentle kisses along your thighs and gently on your folds. He can see your pussy clench at the overstimulation and his cock throbs in his pants. He has to hold himself back. He can’t overstimulate with his tongue….not yet, at least.

Looked fucked out already, your head leaned back on the chair, your bare chest heaving with every breath you take, your thighs slightly shaking. “Did that hurt at all?”

You look down at Chan. His shining eyes sparkle with a newfound hunger. Slowly, you shake your head, unable to gather your scattered thoughts fully. Your met with a wide evil grin, “good,” he took a moment to step away from your thighs, only to tower over your small frame. “Then I guess we can continue”....

a/n: I have a long one ready to post next week; I just need to touch it up a little. The thing is, it's also Bang Chan. I'm debating whether to wait to post it since I'm posting this one or if I should just post it anyway. Please, please, please let me know in the comments if you all care if I post two Chan fics in a row or not. Love y'all.

#limbo #skz #stray kids #smut #story #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #short story #skz smut #fem reader #bang chan smut #christopher bang #bang chan #chris bang #bang chan stray kids #changbin stray kids #chan x reader #chan smut #chan

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 10 months ago

Text

Closer: cbf!soap x f!reader

Warnings: smut mdni (18+), talks about sex, talks about losing virginity, awkwardness, virgin!reader and virgin!soap, mentions of masturbating, fingering, dry humping, little mention about body insecurity, Johnny is a quick learner

Kind of a long part because I can never make things simple lol also sincerely apologize for the secondhand embarrassment I suffered it myself when I wrote this

“Okay, you need to be honest with me, was the dick good?”

You nearly choked on your lunch. You struggled as you gave your friend an incredulous look, hoping that maybe you hadn’t heard her right.

How did she go from talking about Johnny to sex?

“What?” You asked in a strained voice, drinking water to help your choking.

“No, you cannot tell me that you’ve been friends with this man your entire life, not see him for a whole year, and then when he comes back buff you guys didn’t fuck.” She said and you shook your head.

“We didn’t!” You exclaimed and she gave you skeptical look. “I’m being serious, I mean it’s Johnny. That’s not our relationship.”

“You both kissed each other.”

“That-“

You fumbled your words when she gave you a look. From the outside it looked suspicious but both you and Johnny knew the situation. You were doing each other a favor which was entirely different than what your friend was implying.

“It was different.”

“Sure. When you do end up fucking each other, let me know how it goes.”

You rolled your eyes but soon she was on to the next topic, leaving you thinking a little too hard about what she said.

Was Johnny attractive? Uncomfortably so, but had you ever thought about having sex with him…you would never admit it to anyone especially him but you had thought about it a couple times.

It was always in the heat of the moment, when you were far too in your head during times when you were alone and horny.

But without the curtain of lust and need pulled over your eyes? Never.

You pushed the thoughts away of Johnny and sex, ignoring how the images of him against you made you throb, and focused on something else.

By the time you got back to your dorm, mostly things had settled…until you saw Johnny.

“You’re back!” He hopped up from your bed to great you like a puppy. “I should really sit in class with ya, bored out my mind sitting here.”

“You could go around campus.” You suggested but he scoffed.

“Nah, besides there’s no way back in your room if I left.”

You shook your head and threw your backpack down, tossing your shoes off as well as you found yourself thinking over what your friend said.

“You alright?” Johnny asked softly and you looked at him. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“My friend was asking about girl stuff.” You told him vaguely and he narrowed his eyes.

“Girl stuff?”

“Yeah.”

He crossed his arms, giving you an expectant look but you only stared at him.

“Jesus, you act like I didn’t grow up with ya, what kind of girl stuff?” He groaned and you laughed.

You hopped on your bed and he stood in front of you. “You’re nosey.”

“Yeah, so tell me, haven’t spoken to ya all day.”

You were hesitant but he was relentless. It was better to just bite the bullet and tell him so he’d leave it alone.

“She asked me if I had sex.” You said, purposely leaving out the ‘with you’ part for both of your sakes.

Johnny seemed to tense up a little, his face falling ever so slightly before he nodded for you to go on.

“Well have ya?” He wondered but you shook your head. “Really?”

“Don’t say it like that!” You exclaimed, feeling your body warm up with embarrassment.

“Not in a bad way! I just thought…you know.”

You raised an eyebrow but he didn’t elaborate. In fact, he seemed to be getting a little flustered by the subject as well judging by the slight redness on his neck.

Why was it surprising to him? If anyone were to have already had sex it would be him considering his track record of girls fawning over him and now with an exceptional body surely he already slept with multiple girls.

“I don’t know, I just can’t see myself having sex with someone like Carter.” You explained and he scowled when you said his name. “It has to be with someone I trust.”

“I get that.” Johnny sat next to you and you gave him a look.

“Sure.”

“It’s not like I had the time to but I don’t want to sleep around.”

You hummed, surprised just like he was. It made you feel a little better about still being a virgin while in uni because if John MacTavish hadn’t slept with anyone then there was still time to wait.

However that didn’t help the thoughts. Now all you could think about was him, naked and all over you.

“We could…” he began but trailed off.

Your eyes widened and you stared at him incredulously, noticing the way his face had turned a shade darker as he glanced at you.

“We could…?” You repeated as you felt your heart jump to your throat.

“I trust you and you trust me right?” He explained almost frantically. “It’s like our first kiss.”

“This is entirely different, Johnny.”

His face was red and he ran a hand through his Mohawk, tugging at the long strands as he shifted awkwardly on the bed.

“We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to.” He said confidently despite his apparent shyness. “We’re just doing it to get it over with right?”

You couldn’t really think of a retort. You’re not sure if it would mix any feelings you had but if you truly thought about it, you wouldn’t want it to be anyone but Johnny.

You felt safe with him and you knew if you were uncomfortable you could tell him, same for him woth you.

You mulled it over, holding your arms close to your body as you tried to steel your nerves.

“Okay…” you nodded slowly and his head snapped towards you. You gave him an awkward smile and he turned his entire body towards you. “What now?”

“Take off our clothes?” He looked and sounded as clueless as you were.

You pressed your lips together. Even if it was Johnny, you weren’t too keen to take your clothes off and get naked in front of him, especially with how nervous you felt.

He’d seen you in a swimsuit before but that was a while ago and that was entirely different. You weren’t sure if he’d even like you naked especially because you didn’t even shave.

Johnny didn’t move to take his clothes off either and you wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

“This is being really awkward.” You mumbled and he licked his lips.

“Maybe we’re thinking about this all wrong.” He tried to lighten the mood with a smile. “We just need to relax.”

“Yeah, you’re right, we need to relax.”

The awkward silence continued between the two of you and it was getting harder to look at each other. You wanted to crawl under the covers and disappear. Even if you went through with it right now, you knew you wouldn’t enjoy it.

Johnny laid a hand on your knee and you jumped up.

“Let’s just do this another time-“

“Another time, yeah-“

Later, after the nerves died down, the two of you laid in together getting ready to fall asleep. Johnny had you pulled against his chest but you didn’t mind, especially as he watched whatever video you had in your phone. He had his arms wrapped around you and you had your free hand resting on top of his.

You didn’t pay too much attention to him when he moved his hand to hold your hip or when he rested his face closer to your neck, though his warm breath did make you shiver.

It wasn’t until you felt his lips barely press on your neck that you suddenly became aware of him. You tried not to tense up as he kissed your skin softly, your stomach flipping as your breaths got heavier.

Johnny’s hand slipped underneath your shirt and you gasped when he began to palm your breast. His fingertips were rough against your nipples as he pinched them lightly and rubbed them until they hardened while his other hand snaked down to the waistband of your shorts.

“Johnny-“

“Want me to stop?” He hesitated but you shook your head. He pressed a kiss underneath your ears and lightly sucked on the spot. “Open yer legs.”

It was almost laughable how quick you listened to him. There was just something about how low he was speaking, the growl in his voice and the way he touched that set you on fire.

You were wet almost immediately after he began to run his hands across your skin but now your panties had to be soaked.

Johnny moved his hand to your mound and spread your slick folds with his fingers, his chest shuddered as he let out a sigh and he pressed his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

He gathered your slick across his fingers before you found your clit. He moved his fingers rather awkwardly and though you could feel some pleasure from it, it was more uncomfortable than anything.

“Like this.” You grabbed his hand and showed him the movements that felt better.

He didn’t protest but instead listened to you. He began to rub circles on your clit, putting just enough pressure on it and doing it at the right pace that made pleasure race up your spine.

It was entirely different than when you did it. His rough fingers made heat pool in your abdomen quickly and had your heart racing.

“Johnny.” You moaned and he groaned in your ear.

“Shit.” He grunted as he began to grind his cock against you.

He quickened his pace when you tensed up and writhed in his grasp. He continued to kiss any skin he could find, leaving small marks while you stifled your whimpers and moans.

You were rapidly coming close to the edge. You didn’t have the breath to tell him before you dug your nails into his wrist and arched your back.

He didn’t stop until you pulled at his hand but he didn’t pull away. Instead he grabbed your thigh and opened your legs more, pinning it down before he stuck his hand back in your panties.

“Can I put a finger inside?” He asked breathlessly as if he were desperate for it.

“Please-“ You barely got it out before he was slowly slid in a thick finger.

You shuddered and clenched around him, causing him to let out another curse. You gasped when he began to move his finger, your face heating up when you heard the wet noise coming from your cunt, and you tried to close your legs.

Johnny had an iron hold on you however. He kept you spread open while he pump his finger inside you, testing the right amount of pressure and speed while you struggled to breathe.

You hardly had time to come down from your first orgasm and as he added another finger, you found yourself twitching and shaking in his arms again.

It didn’t take long for him to find the spot inside you that had you seeing stars, and once he did he began to abuse it.

You couldn’t stay quiet. Your moans and whimpers mixed with the wet sounds from your cunt as he pumped his fingers in and out at a steady pace. You cried out when he curled them and clawed at his hand when you felt yourself get closer towards the edge.

“You sound so beautiful.” He mumbled in your ear and whined. “Does it feel good?”

You nodded frantically and he continued his ministrations.

It was almost too much. You’d never felt this much pleasure before, never knew he had this in him, but it made sense.

He was the only one you wanted this from, the only one who could probably make you feel this way. You wanted to give him the same treatment, do the same to him but you were so close to the edge again and he seemed content jumping your ass.

Your eyes began to flutter and your clenched around his fingers.

“John!” You choked out and he didn’t stop.

You swear your vision went out as your eyes rolled back. You jolted and your legs shook as he quickly pumped his fingers inside you while you fluttered around them.

He didn’t stop when you tried to push his hand away and your vision blurred with tears. He was whispering sweet nothings in your ear while he kissed your neck.

Johnny only stopped when you told him too and he immediately wrapped his arms around you to pull you as close as he could.

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, blissed out and mind blank as you clung to his arms. It took a moment for you to regain composure before you looked back at him.

“I…you…” you could hardly speak as you moved your hand to his crotch.

However, he grabbed your wrist and gently held it over your chest.

“I’m fine.” He smiled as he rubbed his hard cock against you again. “Wanna go again?”

You scoffed but didn’t push him away, especially as his free hand tugged at your shorts.

This would do for now

I’m closing the tags because it’s already being hard to keep track of who I need to tag. Sorry! No more tagging

A/n: more smut later on or else this would’ve been long lol

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh @mandalover2023 @blush-haze @xxshadowbabexx @infpt-zylith @sadsackssss @fandomsfanficsfantasize @tumblingionz

#cbf!soap #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you

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noellefan101 · 1 year ago

Text

Your First Date-Genshin pt 3

Characters: Lyney, Freminet, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham x gn reader

Summary: Your first date with them,

Warnings: lyney flirting, tea

Note: omg im finally done, i really liked writing these tho, ye thats all i have to say school literally destroyed my brain, love you

Lyney

he would definitely preform a TON of magic tricks during your first date, both romantic, some are just pretty to look at and then there´s the brother-you're-just-embarrassing-yourself magic tricks

: said ever so kindly by Lynette

wouldn't make your date as public as his shows, since he wants to share the moments and magic tricks with you only

(+ Lynette, Fremi and "father" if she asked him so, but yk, they're only made for you)

after he had given you more rainbow roses than you could ever count to, he set out some homemade goods, like cookies, a cake, cupcakes(whatever you lik)

(in which he definitely didn´t spend a few days learning to make)

overall 10/10 (if you dont ask lynette, she had to leave bc of the amount of secondhand embarrassment(she was there at the start)) and it was enjoyable for u.

Freminet

yes, you would be underwater for your first date, but if you really don´t like it(yet)he can just take you some other time

^^but he would prefer to show take you on your first

[and yes, Lyney and Lynette (+his other siblings at home)did bet on when he would finally confesses and take you on a date]

he would let you wear his diving helmet if you really wanted to, but he would also just wear it if he felt embarrassed, or wanted to tell you a story (most likely abt pers)

he aslo ended up showing you a few of his mechanics(robots?)

and showed you some works in progresses other people haven´t seen, other than him and pers ofc

Wriothesley

he would drink tea with you in his office

^^maybe Sigewinne baked you something too,

but you mainly drank tea and just talked the whole time

(bro likes tea so much, someone pls make him shut up abt it)

well other than showing you and talking about his (absolutely massive) tea collection (and cake/bakery(sry))

if he´ll ever let you talk, ofc he will(its a very unfunny joke), he´ll listen to you for as long as you´d want to talk

you also laughed a little when he told about how melusines and stickers dont work well

and he liked seeing and hearing your laugh, so he might go for a date number two

Neuvillette

he would take you out to a fancy restaurant or he would just sit and talk with you somewhere more private

but maybe include a Melusine passing by here and there, checking on you both or for some work-related reasons (that they then put off, just a little, when seeing you both together)

i imagine that you would try some different types of water with him, by his request, and tried your dam best to find a difference.

but he would also get you any kind of drink, dessert or food you´d like

all in all its pretty easy bonding with him, and he just likes being beside you and spending time with you

Alhaitham

he would take you to a quiet cafe where you could sit in peace, since he doesn´t like loud places and want you two to be alone for the most part

he would pay 100% he doesn't even give you a chance to try and pay for anything (he´s nice when he wants to be)

he definitely brought a book with him to read(+ one for you) and would either let you talk while he reads a "little", or he would just read out loud so you know what kind of books he likes

he´s not good at doing any kind of romantic things, but he did try and do something

that including:

taking you out on the date later in the evening so he later could show you the stars, and point out some constellations

asking your friends (and maybe family) what you like food-wise, so he knows what kind of place he should have in mind when picking the place of your date

thank you for reading i don´t think i´ll make any more of these, but if you want it i´ll do it, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

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gretavangroupie · 8 months ago

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin - (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Unwelcome Advances, Kissing.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

JAKE POV

You absentmindedly swirl the skinny black straw around in your glass, scoffing to yourself as you wonder why the bartender put a stirrer into your Whiskey in the first place. It didn’t need to be stirred. You took it straight. It was fine on its own. Regardless, you sipped around the straw, letting the oaky liquor trickle down the back of your throat.

It wasn’t that you hated flying. It was more that you hated being alone with your thoughts for extended periods of time. Only your phone or a book to occupy your brain, but you knew that only worked for so long. Eventually you’d be left alone to tumble down into those dark, dusty memories that would torment you until you touched down in whatever city you were slated to be in that day.

You hear Josh’s voice, instinctively causing you to turn your head, watching as he and Daniel stand in front of the camera recording whatever video the social media team planned for the day. You gracefully bowed out of that process all together, the team knowing not to approach you about an idea unless they knew it was something you would agree to. Usually though, it wasn’t. You turn to look at Sam on your right, seeing his gaze fixed upon the two of them. Both of you were now watching them as they played along with the skit, a huff of secondhand embarrassment sizzling through you as you sip from your glass. You’d never be caught dead doing that.

Fools. How is anyone ever supposed to take us seriously if all we show them is this?

“You ready for another few months of this shit?” you mumble, your lips barely parting from the edge of your glass.

Sam snickers as he turns back to you. “No. But that’s the job isn’t it?” he answers, swallowing down a gulp of beer, turning to look at you.

“I’m hitting that wall, too.” you answer, meeting the eyes of his girlfriend, Lyla. She sends you a sympathetic look as she squeezes Sam’s arm, giving him the little bit of reassurance he needs. “S’been a shit few weeks.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, instead pursing his lips together and slowly nodding his head as he peers down into his empty glass. Everyone knows better than to indulge you in your misery at this point, vowing not to pick at the festering wound. It’s still fresh and you’re still too volatile.

“Well, we’re going to your happy place, right?” Lyla asks with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, yeah we are,” you answer, taking another long pull of Whiskey. It was clear she didn’t know the reason it made you happy in the first place was because of the memories you made there with the person no longer around.

You turn your head ready to fall into those memories you’ve been pushing away for weeks, but fate has other plans as you spot your production team walking towards the boarding gate. They look frantic as they talk to each other, their eyes flicking up and down from their phones in their hands. Paul, your band Manager leads the group, finally slipping his phone into his pocket as he spots the gate. Next to him is Corrine, the Production Manager talking on the phone, balancing it between her ear and shoulder as she follows Paul. Wes, the Tour Manager continues to talk to Paul as they step into the waiting area, but behind him is someone you don’t recognize.

She’s looking down at her phone, unaware that Wes has come to an abrupt stop in front of her. She runs into him just enough that it gets his attention, a profuse apology falling from her mouth. You laugh a little at the exchange, wondering who this girl is, and why she is with your team. She’s dressed like the rest of them, casual, but still comfortable for a day of travel. A slouchy white long sleeve shirt, a little too thin for the cold January weather, a brown leather backpack, worn and well loved, and a pair of olive green pants that hug her ass just a little too well for 10AM on a Thursday morning. You find yourself unable to pull your eyes away from her, a magnetizing feeling sucking you in the longer you look at her. She laughs with Wes, a bright smile lighting up her face causing an unwelcome twinge in your chest. It’s when she fully turns though, allowing you to see her whole face through the curtain of tousled waves, that you find yourself needing to know who she is.

You swallow nervously, licking your bottom lip as you turn to Sam. “Who uh, who’s that?” you ask, nodding towards the group. “With Paul, Wes, and Corri?”

Sam turns around in his barstool, looking across the busy walkway to the group standing at the gate. “Oh, um…” he pauses, assessing the situation. “She’s with Paul, so that must be our new runner.”

“What happened to Lucy?” you ask, letting your eyes drift back to the mystery girl.

“She got engaged and moved to Scotland or some shit, I don’t remember. Ask Josh,” he laughs.

You hum, trying to remember the email thread where Paul’s new assistant was approved. What was her name…

“You know her name?” Lyla asks, looking at Sam.

Yes, Lyla. Yes.

“Um, I think it’s….Y/N. Yeah, yeah, Y/N,” he answers confidently, snapping his fingers as he speaks.

“So she’s the new Lucy…” you hum, flipping your sunglasses down over your eyes.

“Guess so. We’ll see if she can hack it,” he laughs, sliding his card to the bartender.

You turn back to look at her, this time your eyes concealed. She is rocking back and forth on her feet, looking around as she hugs her arms across her chest. She seems nervous, pushing her hair behind her ears every few minutes. You’re positively taken by her, unable to peel your eyes away from her every move. You can’t help but study her, and you briefly wonder if it's the alcohol rushing through your brain that has you so focused on her.

The gate agents’ voice blaring through the intercom system snaps you from your thoughts, announcing that your flight was ready to begin boarding. You look to Sam, who is signing the check, and nod your head in silent agreement that you should head over. You toss back the rest of your Whiskey, letting out a sigh as it warms your chest. You grab your black leather backpack and sling it over your shoulders, straightening out your shirt before following Sam across the walkway to the gate. With your glasses still down, you step into the waiting area, watching people line up around you.

Josh, Ty, Mia, and Daniel appear behind you, startling you a bit as you fumble around in your pocket for your boarding pass. Their conversation is loud and grating, but you tune them out. You check your seat assignment as you move forward in the line, repeating it in your head over and over so you don’t forget it. You try not to pay attention to the pretty mystery girl five people ahead of you, but you just can’t seem to take your eyes off of her. You watch her disappear down the jet bridge as she talks to Paul, and before you can even register it, it’s your turn and the gate agent is scanning your ticket. She sends you on your way with a smile, and as you make the long walk to the plane you wonder if the girl in the green pants is going to make this tour just a little bit more interesting.

—

HER POV

3E. 3E. 3E.

Your eyes scan the row of numbers at the top of the cabin, finally catching sight of your assigned seat. You slide into the aisle seat, tossing your backpack to the floor as you let out a sigh of relief. You made it in one piece. You weren’t late, and everyone seemed to like you so far.

You take a look around you, admiring the plush seats and ample legroom. You’d never flown first class before. You felt a little out of place as you looked at the people around you. Thankfully it was filled with team members you knew, and the band members and their partners, but still you knew you didn’t belong up here. You kicked your bag beneath the seat in front of you, pulling your shirt sleeves over your hands before reaching up to adjust the air vents that were blowing far too hard. A small shiver left your body as you spun the vents closed, sitting back comfortably in your seat as you waited to see who your seat partner would be.

Your phone buzzed on your lap, a text from your best friend lighting up your screen.

Ruth

10:57am: How many hours is the flight again?

You smile as you quickly text back, running the numbers in your head.

You

10:58am: I don’t know, like 7 or 8 hours? You’ll be fine. Read a book or something. I’ll text you when I get there. But it will be late…or early? I think? There is a big time difference.

Ruth

10:59am: Ok, be careful.

You lock your phone and shove it under your leg, your eyes darting to the aisle as more people pass you on their way to their seats. You couldn’t believe your first leg of tour with them was taking you across Europe, allowing you to see places you’d only dreamed about. It wasn’t the job you were worried about, you could do that in your sleep. It was the uncertainty of being in another country with people you didn’t really know.

Getting to know the bands you worked for was a precarious thing. Always walking the thin line between friend and employee. You knew your place though, and you knew where that boundary lied. Your eyes refocus as someone stops in front of you, dropping their hands. As you look up you see Jake, one of the band members staring back at you.

“I’m…right there,” he says, gently pointing to the seat next to you.

“Oh, right here?” you ask, genuinely curious how you were seated next to a band member and not with a crew member.

“3F? That’s what this says…” he asks, checking his boarding pass. You nod and stand, letting him slide into the seat. He drops his leather backpack to the ground with a thud, letting out a sigh of relief, much in the same way you had.

You resettle in your own seat, buckling your seatbelt and pulling it tight across your lap. Your heart is still pounding as you try to calm your nerves, suddenly feeling put on the spot next to your boss. Or– your boss's boss. Shit.

You realize that you know practically nothing about this band, about its members, and really even much of their music beyond their hits. You planned to spend most of this flight acquainting yourself with them, learning their likes and dislikes before making a fool out of yourself in front of them in the green room. You don’t know if you should speak to him, and truthfully you’re a little hesitant since that day at the office, catching him and Josh in an argument.

You didn’t even know they would be there as you went in to sign your paperwork, but to your surprise they were, standing in the middle of the office playing around on instruments and talking. You made a beeline straight for the management office, mostly unseen, and quickly signed your paperwork. Paul went over some of the timelines and the things you would be responsible for as you took detailed notes on your phone, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Though, all of that came to a screeching halt as the sound of a chair skidding forcefully across the concrete floors pulled you both from your conversation. From your seat you watched through the small office door as two men moved towards each other, while two more intervened to break up whatever was about to happen.

You then learned from Paul that the two people that were arguing were the twins, Jake and Josh, and that the other two were their younger brother Sam, and their honorary brother Daniel. You observed in shock as the two of them shouted profanities at each other from either side of the piano, both red faced and worked up over something.

Paul quickly walked you out the front door with an apology and a laugh, and that was the last you saw of the band and its members, until today.

Out of the corner of your eye, you try to get a good look at him without him noticing. First impressions have always been a big deal to you, and since your first impression of him was nothing short of off-putting, you decide to try again. Give him the benefit of the doubt.

Worn-in black pants, cuffed at the ankle, a wrinkled beige button up that only conceals half his torso, a thick dark navy overcoat, and a stack of heavy silver necklaces. Oh, and blue-tinted sunglasses. His cologne… now that will be sticking around in your mind for a while. Clean, woodsy, a hint of musk but still kind of sweet.

You hear him clear his throat as he fidgets with his things, putting them all in their places as he finally settles into his seat. He reaches down into his black leather bag that appears to be well-loved, and pulls out a set of wired earbuds. They’re tangled and bunched, and you can’t help but smirk as you watch him try to untangle them. His fingers pull through the twisted white wires, and before you can offer your help, he reluctantly tosses them back down on top of his unzipped bag. “Fuck it,” you hear him mumble under his breath. He huffs again and leans back, tapping his fingers anxiously on his arm rests.

You let yourself drift back into your own thought as the plane takes off, going over the hundreds of miniscule things you know you’ll have to accomplish as soon as the plane lands. It’s quiet in first class, something you aren't used to with flying on the regular. The peacefulness that comes along with the drone of the plane and the light conversation between everyone is almost enough to help you relax a little, if not for the damned cool air still blowing through the vent above you.

You shiver a little, cuffing your hands over the ends of your shirt to pull it in more closely to your body. Why you had chosen to forgo a heavier jacket in the middle of winter, you truly don’t know. You decide to distract yourself a little, pulling up the string of endless emails that lie in waiting on your phone, getting a nice head-start on your duties before you have to hit the ground running.

Jake has been sitting beside you quietly for about an hour now, alternating scrolling his phone every few minutes and looking out his window. The cloud cover is heavy, so being able to see even a glimpse of the ocean below you is a lost cause. You listen as he sighs, crossing one of his legs over the other and folding his hands in his lap.

Should you strike up conversation? No, he probably doesn’t care to speak to you. But is it rude not to? You’ve already been sitting here for over an hour…

Just as you decide to open your mouth to speak, the plane hits turbulence. The cabin shakes and rumbles, and you can feel your stomach fall. Your hands grip the arm rests with white knuckles as the plane passes through, your eyes gripping shut as tightly as your palms on the arm rests.

Finally, after what feels like forever the plane evens out again, and you hear the pilot come over the intercom to apologize. You finally let the breath you were holding free from your lungs, and you open your eyes to see Jake with his head leaned low in front of you.

“You okay?” he asks, an eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just…don’t really enjoy this part much.” you admit, running your sweaty palms over your pants.

He sits back in his seat once he notices your calmness return. “Me neither, to be honest. No matter how many times you hit turbulence on a plane, you never get used to it. I don’t care what people say.” he says with a sweet smile. You can tell that he was coming down from an anxious episode just the same as you.

“No joke…” you agree, suddenly wanting a drink even if it was before noon. You push the tiny hairs away from your face as you regain a hold on your bearings, picking up right where you had left off before the turbulent air sent you into a spiral of doom. “I–I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself before, my name’s–”

“Y/N.” he cut in, extending the tips of his fingers out to offer you a friendly handshake.

You let your hand slowly come up to meet his, suddenly uncaring that it was probably still clammy. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.”

For the five seconds your bodies connect, and the even shorter few seconds that his honey brown eyes meet yours, you feel like you were worried for nothing. This guy is nice. Maybe he’ll be easier to talk to than you thought…

His hand disconnects and flies to his chest. “I’m Jake.”

You nod. Of course you already know his name. “Yeah, um…guitar. Right?”

He smiles harder this time. “Yup. That’s my forte, at least. Have you um, ever been to Europe?” He brushes his hand over his nose a few times as his eyes dart back and forth from the seat behind you and back to your face, unable to hold eye contact. Is he nervous?

You turn your body a little more toward him. “No, actually. This is my first time. But I hear good things…”

“Oh shit, you’re gonna love it. Especially this time of year. Things move pretty fast when we get there, but we always try to explore as much as possible. See some sights.” You can tell that he’s truly excited about this excursion, and to be completely honest, you found yourself wanting to hang on his every word.

“Anything in particular?” you press, wanting to hear the gritty rich sound of his voice again.

You let him talk on and on about the places he wants to see, and the places that they had already been, even bringing up a few older photos on his phone as he describes their past trips. You try not to look as he scrolls, but his camera roll is full of tons of scenic photos and videos, landscapes, mountains, waterfronts… and of course a few rogue photos of guitars and guitar parts. You wonder if he’s planning to make little vlogs.

“Italy is my favorite, I think. So much history there. I could’ve stayed for six months if they’d have let me.” Your shoulders are pressed up against each others’ now as you watch his thumb glide over the multitude of media, speeding through the less important ones to get to his favorites. Strange of him to trust a stranger this much to watch him scroll his personal camera roll. He obviously doesn’t have much to hide, even if this is crossing that boundary line…

“The people are great, the food is great, the wine, oh god, don’t get me started on the wine…” he chuckles, and you feel yourself bumping your shoulder against his a little as you laugh along with him. “The terroir is fuckin’ phenomenal, obviously. It’s like a different world.”

“I like a moscato every now and then.” You add, trying to throw in your two cents on your crumbs of wine knowledge.

He returns with a scrunched nose. “Hmm, a bit sweet for my taste…So, Y/N. What’s your story, how’d you end up with us?” he asks, switching to cross his other leg over, now.

You swallow, unsure of how to explain years’ worth of ups and downs you’d gone through to a rockstar. Your boss. You decide to keep it short and sweet, he didn’t need to know everything.

“Well, I spent my entire youth attending a small private school and private high school, so I came up quite the determined and disciplined kid. Kinda sheltered.” You turn again in your seat, tucking one leg up underneath you. “But, I ended up moving away from home and away from family, been in this business for almost, eh, six years now?” You go on, and he listens intently. “Guess you could say I’m a pro at making things happen out of thin air.” You give him a long wink as you snap your fingers together.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he finally gives you a hundred-watt smile. My god, he’s…

“A-ha, so you got all the good hookups, huh?” He asks, running his fingers over his chin as his cheeks turn the palest shade of pink.

“S’what the runner does, isn’t it?” You pull your eyes back down to your lap. “Get you everything you need, right when you need it?”

You bring your eyes back up to his and watch as he swallows hard, his mouth hanging open for just a split second before he catches himself. “Yeah, ehm, I suppose it is. We’re not too bossy, though. Josh can be, but.”

“So I’ve heard, he’s kind of a…diva?” You hadn’t done too much research on them, honestly. You hadn’t had the time. But, what few tiktoks and musics videos you had managed to see were fairly telling of their personalities.

“He is. He is.” Jake laughs. “Don't let him fool you, though. He’s a big softie with an attitude problem. We all kind of are, honestly.”

“You’re a softie?” You press with a teasing tone. “From the few videos I’ve seen of you playing guitar, you look a little intimidating…”

“Me? Intimidating?” He clicks his tongue. “Don’t believe everything you see on the internet, Y/N. It’s dangerous…” he growls the last word, and you can feel your insides ripping themselves apart just at the sound of his voice. You have to pull back, now.

“All the runners we’ve ever had did extensive research on us before they came on tour, did you not do that?” he inquires, throwing you off a bit.

You don’t really know how to answer, so you tell the truth. “Honestly Jake, no, I didn’t. I’ve toured with a few other bands in my career, and I did that. I researched them, learned all things I thought I needed to know so I didn’t go in blind. And, this time around, I did a little bit, but I kind of wanted to meet you all for myself. Get my own versions of you.”

“Hm.” He responds with an understanding nod. “Well, you’ll be the first.”

“Speaking of,” you go on, candidly glancing around the cabin and deciding to go ahead and ask the question that’s been nagging you. “Everyone else is seated with someone, wonder why I’m not with the rest of the team.”

“What, you don’t wanna sit by me, Y/N?” he asks with a shred of a grin.

“No no, it’s not that.” you laugh. “Just—“

“Normally I have someone with me, but…we’ve recently…gone our separate ways, I suppose.” He trips over the words a little, stammering through them like it was the first time he’d admitted it.

“Oh… I see.” you pause, “That’s…never an easy thing.”

I wonder if that was why he was so snippy that day at the office when you saw him fall off his rocker?

“Eh, s’alright. Win some, lose some. We had a good run.” He says as he waves off the question. “So, you say you’ve been doing this awhile, you must really miss whoever you’re leaving at home.”

Skating around the question, aren’t you, Jake?

“No, I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.” You bite your lip as he doesn’t stop you from elaborating further. “I’m pretty independent, I like structure and uniformity. Growing up I wasn’t allowed much time on my own to have hobbies outside of school and practice. Strict parents. The job has kept me pretty adhered to that mindset, even in my personal life, so.”

His eyes flick to yours and he squints them a little, as if he’s collecting every single one of your words and hanging them in a closet in his mind. He’s trying his best to figure you out, you can see it on his face. But why? He shouldn’t care…you don’t matter.

“I can respect that.” He nods again. “My brothers and I, we grew up in a fairly religious household. Was great, don’t get me wrong. Really formed our roots but, as we got older and started to see the world, we kinda got away from it. Began to start seeing things in a different perspective.” He sucks his teeth, as if he’s recounting a hard memory. “Kinda why we moved to Nashville. We knew we had to break away if we wanted the band to be successful.”

You nod in understanding. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”

His laugh fills the cabin as it bounces off the walls, a sweet chuckle that makes your heart rate pick up. You could listen to him laugh all day long.

“S’pose it did.”

“The fuck are you two over here laughing at, huh?” Suddenly Josh’s curls are squished between your seats, his cheeks pinched together as he speaks. “I’m trying to get some shut-eye but I can’t from all the babbling—”

Jake places his hand over entirety of his twin’s face, pressing him through and back into his own seat. “None of your business, fuck off.”

You laugh at their antics, knowing in the back of your mind that you had better get used to it. You feel the air kick on again, fiercely blowing the freezing cold air directly onto you. You shiver a little, balling yourself up and pulling your sleeves closely in toward you again.

“You want my jacket?” Jake asks, already starting to pull it from his shoulders.

“No! No no no, thank you, but I’m fine, really.” The last thing you need is that right off that bat. A bad look. Day one. Nope.

“Seriously, I run naturally hot. Take it.” He replies.

“Oh yeah? Hence all your layers?” You tease, repositioning in your seat.

“It’s a fashion statement, thank you very much.” He bites. “All about comfort for me.”

Gotta change the subject.

“So tell me something I should know about your brothers. Something that would give me brownie points if I wanted to say…impress them with my craft service skills…” you press, giving him a new challenge.

“Wow um, let’s see…” he brings his fingers to his chin and thinks hard, and you can’t help but feel endeared by the fact that he truly wants to help you out. “Josh stays away from chocolate and dairy and sweets and all that, but his guilty pleasure is those cotton candy flavored grapes. Weird, I know.”

“Oh my god, those are so nasty!” you laugh, but still take note.

“Danny would be over the moon if you surprised him with salsa verde Doritos, and Sam drinks kombucha more than the normal human should.” he finishes with a stern nod.

“Got it. I think I can make most of that happen, aside from the grapes…”

“He would kiss you right on the lips, I’m telling you.” Jake giggles again, and you notice how he lights up when he talks about them.

“So Josh is the dramatic softie, what about the other two?” you ask.

“Sam’s kinda serious but he’s playful when he wants to be. Sneaky, too. Daniel’s always into something, always busy. Man doesn’t like to sit still,” he concludes, and you commit it all.

“And what about you?” you ask, feeling your stomach flip for some reason.

“I thought you said you wanted to get your own versions of us,” he quipped back, parroting your words from earlier. Damn, you had said that.

You toss your hair behind your shoulder. “I did but…You’ll tell me all about them, but not about yourself?”

He crunches his lips together as his eyes scan your face. It makes you a little uncomfortable, how hard he’s really looking at you, but you let him. Stopping him would be a sin you weren’t ready to commit just yet.

“That’s right.”

The two of you drift off into silence again as the minutes tick by, thankfully not being embarrassingly interrupted by Josh anymore. You decide that you want to listen to some music, so you reach into the pocket of your bag and pull out your AirPods, slipping the left one in first followed by the right. You pull up your music and begin flipping through your playlists, searching for something to match the relaxed tone of the hour. Truly, you feel like you could easily drift off to sleep.

You find a nice quiet playlist and curl up in your seat, halfway reluctant you didn’t take Jake’s jacket, but also proud of yourself for saying no. You’re fucking freezing.

You turn your head to the side and close your eyes, ready to drift off into another world.

You’re jolted awake by turbulence, the plane shaking again as you wake up and get your bearings. “Shit,” you breathe as you sit up straighter, remembering exactly where you are. You notice that in your slumber, your head had fallen against Jake’s shoulder. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

The turbulence only lasts a few seconds before it evens out again, and the calmness returns to your body. You glance at Jake, seeing him looking a little drowsy and shaken, too.

“Jake, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, why didn’t you wake me? I—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I kinda dozed off, too,” he replies, stretching his arms high above his head without a care…not like he didn’t just have a stranger asleep with her head on his shoulder.

You look down, noticing that in the time you had drifted off, Jake had covered you with his coat.

You panic, scrambling a little as you work to pull it from your body before anyone notices.

His hands are quickly on yours, stopping your action. “Leave it, Y/N. You were shivering in your sleep…you can’t tell me you aren’t cozy right now…” his voice is barely a whisper, and the warmth of his hands grazing overtop of yours, even for a second, is enough to give you a whole other type of chill.

“Yeah, I—I am warm…” you can’t deny that your body temperature has increased by at least a couple of degrees, and your fingers don’t feel like they’re going to get frostbite anymore. The jacket is heavy, heavier than it looks, and it smells like fresh pine needles and woodsy body soap. Just like…him?

“See?” he growls, backing away. “Just stay put.”

Stay put? You want to bite back with something that will put him in his place; you explicitly told him you didn’t want his jacket, and he covered you anyway. While you were unconscious. While you couldn’t turn down the offer.

…But you’re so warm, now. Your tense muscles are finally relaxing. The frigidity of the space has suddenly turned into a toasty furnace with a crackling fire.

Okay, but just until we land…

“What are you listening to?” Jake asks as he stretches again. You turn your phone for him to see, showing a generic playlist of Peaceful Sleep Songs lighting up your lock screen.

“Agh, no, what is that shit?” Jake snatches your phone from your hand, quickly flipping the screen to unlock with your face before he begins shuffling through your playlists.

“What are you doing?!” you yelp, reaching for your phone back. He raises his free hand to the air, stopping you from taking it.

“Aht aht… I’m finding you something better to listen to. Don’t worry about it.” You suddenly hear the quiet music in your ears switch to something else, something you knew for a fact you hadn’t ever heard before. You give it a second as he turns the volume up a few notches, and you realize that it is most definitely brand new to you.

It’s a solemn, tense-feeling piano beat, followed in by guitar. Lyrics only come in after a minute and a half or so. It sounds like growling, deep and hollow and a bit scary, but beautiful nonetheless. He’s watching your face as you experience it, quickly pressing pause as the song comes to a close.

“What was that?” you ask, realizing you had really enjoyed it.

“That was a song called Intro, by Alt-J. I know you’ve heard of Alt-J.” he says as he goes back to work on the phone.

You slowly shake your head from side to side. “Can’t say I have, actually.”

His jaw goes slack as his eyebrows raise in disbelief. “What? Like, never?”

You feel your cheeks turning pink at the thought of a literal rockstar calling you out on your lack of music knowledge.

“I don’t think so! That’s not what I normally listen to…don’t judge me,” you laugh, reaching for your phone again.

He swats your hand away. “Ohh no, little fledgling. You’re listening to this. This is the good shit…” he presses play again as a twinkling high-pitched voice comes through your ears. It’s just jumbled words, no backing music or tune. The acapella strikes you as strange at first, until the end when it changes tone a bit, and it’s almost as if the lyrics are giving you advice you didn’t ask for. Warning you of something new and exhilarating, or better yet, dangerous and foreboding. It almost feels as if a black cloud has overcome you, only for a split second, letting you feel the nonexistent pokes and pinches that come along with the emotion of worry.

The song flows directly into another now, one layered with a lot more sound, and it pulls you from that odd headspace the previous had put you in. You lean over the armrest, looking at the screen to see the title Tessellate. You’ve never heard anything like this kind of music before, and you wonder why Jake chose this particular artist.

“This is one of their more popular ones, like radio popular, but it’s still one of my favorites on this album. Here in a second you’ll hear it slow down—”

You stop him by pulling your right earbud out, shoving it in his hand. “Shh, you can talk me through the songs later. Let me listen.”

He shuts his mouth, giving you a sweet grin as he takes the bud, placing it in his own ear and pressing play again. You continue on through the album, each song something brand new to you, a genre you’d really never delved into but wish you had, now. It’s enthralling, different, and full of sounds that make your mind sway and swim through mixtures of color and gray.

You watch as Jake’s fingers tap along exactly with the beat of each song perfectly, down to a tee. The words don’t make much sense to you, and you can hardly distinguish what the singer is saying, but you know that Jake will give you a rundown of it all as soon as time allows him. You don’t know much about him, but his persistence is already apparent. You glance to see his eyelashes hitting his cheeks, his head barely bobbing side to side as he feels the music. You find yourself envious that he can draw inspiration and act on it, turning it into art of his own, whereas all you can do is sit back and listen to it.

Every couple of minutes he perks up from his meditation and adds new songs from their other albums onto the little playlist he’s started for you. You can’t quite make out what he’s titled it, but you can tell it's an emoji of some sort. His thumb flips and flies with precision across your screen as he scrolls and adds songs, and you have to admit, you’re a little excited to get your phone back and learn just what he’s creating for you. Especially for you.

You take a quick deep breath as you recenter yourself, catching your eyes drifting over his hand as he grips your phone. The veins in his hand roll over his knuckles, and you can just barely see the scuffed and calloused ends of his fingertips. Dial it the fuck back Y/N, remember the rules.

“Oooh, this is another one of my favorites,” he remarks, his mouth fairly close to your ear as he tries not to raise his voice over the volume of the music. He turns the screen a little so you can see the title, Taro. “You haven’t— You didn’t come to any of our shows last year by chance, did you?”

You feel a big pang of guilt shoot through your chest, remembering that you had actually been invited by some friends to see them way back when, but you’d turned the invitation down, not knowing who they even were at the time. You shake your head from side to side. “No, I didn’t.”

“This is one of the ones we play to the crowd before we go on. We all love it, it’s a sad, sad love tale based on true events. That’s the cool thing about this group, their lyrics are never really about what you think they are. They’re storytellers, a bit like Josh is, if you think about it. Their themes and over arcs are just…mind blowing sometimes.” Jake’s voice is a tiny murmur in your ear as your shoulders lean on one another’s again, still very taken with the music flowing through your ear. “We grab a lot of inspo from them, sonically and melodically…” You can feel his breath on your cheek, and you find yourself wondering what it would taste like…

“Here, read along with the lyrics. Try not to cry.” He hands your phone back, letting you keep up with the words floating down your screen. And he’s right, it’s heartbreaking without even knowing the context.

“Wow…That was really beautiful,” you choke, realizing the depth of the story of the song.

“Yep. Good shit, I told you.” He whips his hand around and takes the phone back as the next song comes in and warms your bones up again. You can feel the bare skin of his elbow brushing against yours, realizing that he was telling the truth about being naturally warm-bodied. Suddenly you don’t feel so bad about cuddling up under his coat.

He opens your contacts app and adds himself, placing the sword emoji beside his name. He smirks as he hands the phone back.

“Added your phone number, huh?” you ask rhetorically.

He sucks his teeth as he cracks his fingers. “Yep. How else will I let you know what I might need? Plus, never know when you might need to call me.”

—

You watch the signs overhead illuminate, a gentle tone ringing through the cabin as the Captain starts to make an announcement. You pause the song and pull your AirPod out, watching Jake do the same.

“Hey folks, this is your Captain speaking. Just want to let you know we will be landing in Hamburg shortly. I’d expect to be on the ground in the next ten minutes or so, putting us about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, so sit tight and we’ll have you on the ground in a few. Attendants please prepare for arrival.”

You turn to look at Jake, shrugging as you slide your AirPod back into the case. He raises his eyebrows and drops his jaw. “But we aren’t done! Wait! Hold on!”

He grabs your phone again, and from what you can see he is adding more songs to your playlist. You watch as he scrolls through various different albums by different artists, adding songs as quickly as he can. You smirk as you catch sight of the emoji he’s chosen, the chick icon, a playful nod at his earlier fledgling comment. He peeks over at you every few seconds, trying his best to hurry so you can pack up your things, but in a last effort you watch as he adds himself as a collaborator to the playlist.

You raise an eyebrow to him as he hands your phone back to you, shrugging with a soft laugh. You feel your insides swirl at the sight of his smile, and you turn your eyes to your phone scrolling through the songs on the playlist. You turn back to him and nod, a silent agreement that you will listen just as you feel the plane starting to land.

“I wanna keep adding songs for you to listen to, fledgling. If you want me to, of course…”

You nod. “Of course I do. School away, Jake,” you reply with an air of playful annoyance.

He chuckles. “I plan to.”

As you brace for the landing you grip your hands into the arm rests, letting go of the soft worn in corduroy fabric you’d been playing with for the last hour. Your eyes squint closed as the plane touches down, jolting everyone forward in their seats. Jake grabs his phone as the plane slows down, flashing his screen at you to show a local time of 12:13AM.

“I see some jet lag in our future,” you smile, sliding his jacket off of your arms. You fold it the best you can and hand it back to him, almost sad you have to give it back to him. “Thanks again for that.”

“Oh yeah, no problem.” He accepts it graciously from you, letting out a soft breath as he unfolds it and slides it back over his shoulders. It fits his personality well, soft and sturdy, worn in and weathered. He flips his hair out from beneath the collar, a barely there smell of peppermint passing through the air. You pull your gaze away from him just as you see his cheeks start to blush from your gaze. You lock your phone and stick it into your backpack at your feet, wondering how in such a short amount of time Jake has managed to infiltrate your thoughts so completely.

JAKE POV

As she turns to grab her bag you open your phone, tapping on the notification that she has added you to her playlist. You accept the invitation with a sly smile before sliding your phone back into your coat pocket. It smells like her now, soft and floral, very different than anything you were used to. Your mind was already circling with things you wanted to add to that playlist when you got a minute, finding it was harder than you thought to think of songs on the fly.

The first few rows begin to file out of the plane and you watch as Paul stands and turns to look at Y/N, motioning to her to meet up with him after she got off the plane. She nods her head and slides her backpack straps over her shoulders, waiting for her turn to stand.

“For jet lag…You know…Um, Benadryl,” you offer, your voice a little soft and unsure.

She turns to look at you, pinching her brows together in question.

“When you get to your room tonight, take a Benadryl. Should knock you out until the morning and help you get on a normal schedule. Works for me, at least.” you finish, nodding to her as the people in front of you stand to leave.

“Thanks, Jake.” She smiles and nods, sliding out of her seat to walk down the aisle.

You watch her as she walks up the jet bridge towards the gate, seeing Paul waiting for her in the doorway. The two walk together through the airport, finding it fairly quiet at this hour as most of the flights have landed for the night. You push your sunglasses down onto your nose just as you feel Josh walking up behind you.

He gives you a gentle nudge in the side to get your attention. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Easy flight,” you answer, still listening and catching bits and pieces of whatever Paul is saying to Y/N, prepping her for the hotel check in and details for the morning. She is typing notes on her phone as she walks, barely looking where she is going, clearly trusting Paul to look out for her more than she should.

You tune out Josh as he rambles on about the flight, Ty jumping in every few words with a retort or a laugh. Your eyes don’t seem to leave her though, watching her talk, watching her walk, shit, just watching her. You can’t seem to shake it. You’d never met anyone like her before. Someone you were so instantly taken with. You wanted to know every single detail about her.

You feel Josh’s hand as it comes up to your chin, pressing it upward and forcing your jaw shut. “There, you seemed to have dropped that.”

You turn to him angrily, knowing what he’s insinuating, giving him a hard elbow to the arm. “Fuck off, Josh.”

He laughs and pushes you with his shoulder, readjusting his backpack on his other shoulder. “Just an observation, that’s all. Can’t say I blame you, though.”

“Oh are you talking about Jake and Y/N?” Sam interjects, stepping up on your right side in a lanky stride.

Josh nods, laughing slightly, wanting to keep this banter going. Asshole.

“Can you two knock it off, fuck,” you growl, hoping she can’t hear them. Your eyes are locked in on her again, and much to your relief she is talking to Paul and can’t hear a word they’re saying.

“He didn’t shut up the entire flight. Lots of whispering and giggles from up there. I didn’t sleep at all. But I did hear his monologue about the genius of Alt-J for the fourth time this year.” Josh quips, earning a laugh from everyone around you.

“Fuck you again, Josh,” you spit, annoyed at his lack of respect.

“Damn, so you’re trying to scare her away, then?” Sam teases, giving you a sideways grin.

You shake your head and push past them forcefully as you step off the escalator into baggage claim, not wanting to engage in this conversation a second longer. Especially because you were afraid they might be right.

—

“Shit, not again,” Danny mumbles as you all approach the baggage claim area, immediately noticing a group of fans obviously waiting for your arrival. You take a deep, preparational breath as you can’t help but run into them on your path to the carousel.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you hear Josh complain as he puts on his faux-happy face. You all love meeting fans. Truly, watching their faces light up when they see you is something that is unparalleled. But coming off of a long flight and already feeling the effects of the time difference, starving, and ready for a drink usually puts all of you in a mood that is generally irked overall. But you always suck it up; this is the life you signed up for.

This time though, unlike most encounters with fans, is enough to make your general irritation quickly turn into intense aggravation. They swarm you, hugging and pulling and invading your spaces in an extremely unwelcome attempt at meeting each of you. You feel surrounded, and unable to get to your luggage in time before it rounds the carousel again. You keep your cool, just as you always do, curtly smiling and pulling away as your body instructs you to. You pause for quick photos as your eyes search the spinning luggage again. You see your brothers out of the corners of your eyes doing the same… quick ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet you’s’ as the crowd just seems to get bigger and bigger.

Just as your eyes finally fall on your suitcase, you hear a loud clack as you turn and notice someone has knocked Sam’s phone out of his hand. It lands face down on the tile floor, likely cracked and scuffed from the people crowding around you all. You watch as Sam’s face turns up in annoyance, his eyes closed as he composes himself.

“Okay, that’ll be enough!” You hear Dean, your security, bellow across the crowd. “Please step away, no more photos, no more photos…” Dean makes his way into the center of group, quickly dispersing them. You give Sam a quick look that says, ‘get your phone, let’s go’, and soon enough you’re rolling your suitcase through the middle of the crowded room.

You see Y/N in the crowd, finding her to be a little flustered from the encounters, but alright nonetheless. You lock eyes with her as she mouths, ‘Are you okay?’, and you nod her off with a look of, ‘Yeah, this happens all the time.’

Your team is surrounding you as you quickly walk through the hallway toward the exit, ready to hop into an unmarked van and zip away to your hotel. You’re still being followed as you make it through the back exit doors.

When you’re finally safe outside the pickup area, everyone breathes a sigh of relief. “Fuck, that was a bad one.” Danny says. “Sam, how's your phone?”

“It’s ok, just a little scuff in the corner but it’ll be fine,” he answers, scanning his eyes over it.

“Guys, keep your phones on, Wes will be texting you tomorrow with where we’re headed next. Get some sleep and something to eat.” Paul instructs as everyone loads their things into the vans. Y/N is standing nearby, and you can tell that she feels a little out of place as she awkwardly crosses one ankle over the other. You take a quick opportunity to knock your elbow into her side, feeling comfortable enough to do that now that you’d sat together so long on the plane, but she’s avoiding eye contact. You hope she doesn’t feel uncomfortable around you.

“Hey, thanks for letting me jam a little with you on the plane,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry if I overstepped any, but I really think you’ll like the music I added for you.”

Finally her composure opens a little. “No, no! You didn’t… overstep. I’m actually excited to hop in my big cozy hotel bed and listen again.” Her words make your stomach fall with nerves, but you quickly suppress it.

“Y/N, you ready?” you hear Wes ask her as he passes by, heading toward another van.

“Yep, all set!” she answers as she follows him through the dwindling group. She hops into another van, and you worry she’ll be staying at another hotel. For a second you think you won’t see her as much if she is. You climb inside the van and slam the door closed behind you, seeing the group of fans with their phones pressed to the windows of the airport. You plop back down into the middle seat beside Josh, and finally take a full breath of relief.

“Fuck! I swear to god if I’m getting sick again…” Josh says as he bangs his head against the headrest behind him. You scoot sideways on the van’s bench seat, staying as far away from him as you can.

“Are you serious?!” Danny says from the seat behind you. “You need a mythical medicine man or some shit.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, just feel a little congested. I’ll send Y/N out on her first mission for some meds after we get settled in the hotel.” Josh answers, and you keep yourself pressed against the van’s window, purposefully turning your back to him. Can’t have that again. You realize, though, that of course she’ll be in the same hotel as you, management always is.

The vision of a worried Y/N replays in your mind, seeing her face full of concern as the fans did all but ambush you earlier. You shake the thought, suddenly having a realization that, most likely, everyone else is having, too.

“I think we should amp up security,” you blurt. “No offense to Dean, but he’s only one guy. There are more than ten of us…” you’re met with a little bit of silence, so you press on. “Just while we’re over here, at least. We’re going to be separated a lot, and I think it would be a good idea if Dean wasn’t being pulled in all different directions.”

“Don’t you think we should have thought of that before we got over here, Jake?” Josh counters.

“I’ve actually been thinking it for a while. Today just…made me feel like it’s necessary, now,” you respond quietly. What could it hurt? You have the funds, and a few extra eyes on you and your team couldn’t be a bad thing.

You hear a collective sigh from your brothers, until Sam finally speaks. “Yeah, I kinda felt a little overwhelmed when I dropped my phone and it got kicked away from me. First world problems, I know, but—”

“But someone could have picked it up, and ran off with it. Gotten access to your private information. Stepped on it and shattered it. We’re probably just paranoid, but I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a bad idea…” you suggest.

“I like the idea.” Josh adds. “Wish we would have talked about it sooner, but I’m sure Paul could get something arranged for us. Those security companies are always looking for overseas gigs.”

“Daniel, you agree?” you ask, twisting your body to the backseat.

“Yeah, I do, actually,” he decides.

“Good. It’s settled, then. We’ll talk to Paul first thing in the morning,” you say, happy with your decision of bringing it up. All you can see is a memory of Y/N’s scared face replaying over and over in your mind, and you just can’t seem to shake it.

You quickly curse yourself, you’re in no headspace to be worrying about a woman right now. You’ve gotta keep your head on straight. Tour hasn’t even started yet, and you’re already letting a new girl give you butterflies. You audibly scoff at yourself as you lean your elbow on the window, looking out at the bustling streets outside. You throw your earbuds in, letting the tangle of cords just be what it is, and you pull your phone out to switch the volume up. Of course, Alt-J pops onto your screen the second you look at it, and you wonder if she’s already listening to them, too.

The city lights are twinkling through the light drizzle of rain, and you finally feel your bones starting to settle into tiredness. Though your mind is racing with excitement to play shows, you let yourself ignore the thoughts and relax into the music blessing your ears. Some room service and a down comforter is calling your name.

—--

HER POV

The shrill sound of your hotel room telephone wakes you from a half-sleep. What the hell? What time is it? You don’t remember falling asleep, but the loud TV and the lights still illuminating the room signify you must have accidentally dozed off.

“Hello?” you answer, realizing that no matter the time, duty calls.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Paul. Sorry if I woke you…”

“No, you’re fine. I’m awake,” you lie.

“Cool. Um, Josh was wondering if you’d run to the pharmacy down the street and pick up the meds I just texted you. He said he would go get them himself, but he’s doing a lung steaming treatment or… something. I dunno. But if you don’t care, here’s your first assignment! I know it’s late, but the pharmacy is apparently open all night.”

You glance at your watch and see that it’s already nearing 1:00AM. “Sure! I don’t care at all. Tell him I’ll have them to him ASAP.”

“Will do. Hey, turn your location on for me and Wes, okay? Be safe, thanks again,” Paul hangs up the phone before you can say goodbye, and within seconds you’re crawling out of bed and putting your pants back on. Your stomach growls as you realize you fell asleep without eating anything. You make a plan to make a quick trip to the pharmacy, deliver Josh his medicine, then go back out to find something to eat before you end up eating the bag of peanuts you stuffed in your bag on the plane.

You take a second to check your messages, finding you have three unread messages from Ruth. In the mess and confusion of the day, and the time difference, you’ve been thrown for a loop. You shoot her a quick few texts to let her know you’re alive and well, but you leave out the sweet little detail that you’d shared AirPods with the guitarist of the band you’re touring with. You’d get into that part later.

The walk to the pharmacy is short, thankfully, and you find the things Josh needs without much of an issue at all. The city is still fairly crowded with people at this hour, and you make sure to track your steps backward just the way you came to get back to the hotel. Your stomach rumbles again, and the smells coming from the various restaurants around you have your head spinning with hunger.

A few quiet knocks on Josh’s hotel room door bring him to answer it within seconds, and his warm composure instantly makes you feel welcome. “Y/N! Thank you so much, seriously. I need to knock this shit out before it gets any worse, and I think you just saved the day,’ he gushes as you see clouds of steam pouring out of his cracked bathroom door, and smell the sweet scent of herbal fragrances as they waft through your nose. “You have any trouble finding the place? Google said it was close by…”

“Anytime, Josh. And no, actually. It was right around the corner,” you answer, handing him the bag of meds.

“Good. Well I won’t bother you again, you heading to sleep?” he asks with a warm tone.

You bite the inside of your lip as your stomach screams at you again. “No, I passed a little pub on my walk, and it smelled amazing as I walked by. Think I’m gonna go have a drink and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

“Go feed yourself, love. Enjoy the city. We’ve got a long day tomorrow!”

“Will do, see you tomorrow!” you say as he closes the door.

“Thanks again! See ya!”

You make your way to the elevator and down to the bottom floor, digging your phone out of your pocket to check your location and make sure the pub is still going to be open at this hour. A quick search for Le Marmitone tells you the kitchen doesn’t close for another hour, so you pick up your pace and head straight for the pub.

The wind and rain have picked up a little bit, and you thank yourself for adding a few layers on before you left your hotel room earlier. The cold air bites at your cheeks as you meander through the people still out walking the streets, and the smell of the food drifting on the wind draws you straight back to the pub. Upon entering the double doors, you find that it is actually a nice restaurant with a bar.

You grab a seat at the corner of the bar, glancing to the coolers and shelves to see what your drink options are.

“Evening madame, here is a menu. Can I get you a beverage?” a man in a sport coat asks as he hands you the shiny white menu. His accent is thick, but you can understand him fairly easily.

“Hello. Could I have a whiskey soda and a water, please?” you ask as you remove your heavy jacket and hang it over the back of the stool. You look over the menu choices and decide on a bowl of soup and a sandwich, more of a lunch option, but a steaming hot bowl of soup sounds exactly like what you need right now.

There are a few people still scattered throughout the restaurant, most closing their tabs and leaving for the night. There are a few patrons still at the bar, stuck in conversations with one another or watching whatever game is playing on the big screen.

The bartender sets your drinks in front of you as you tell him your food order, and you pull out your phone to begin fishing through emails and making your daily checklists. The Whiskey drink is strong, but not too strong, and you let yourself enjoy the immediate warmth it sends coursing through your veins.

You fill your stomach up as far as it will allow you, and you decide that one more drink probably won’t hurt, as the place doesn’t close up for another hour. You’re enjoying yourself, basking in the calm before the storm that is going to hit promptly at 10AM tomorrow.

“‘Scuse me, sir. I’ll take one more drink and my check, please,” you alert the bartender. He nods and turns to concoct your drink and print your tab. When he returns, he plops a bright red maraschino cherry onto the top.

“Gentleman at the end of the bar says this one is on him, ma’am.” He places the white slip of paper in front of you as he removes your dishes, and disappears. Your eyes slowly drift to the left, landing on an older gentleman who had been lingering at the end of the bar since you’d gotten here. His friends have since left, leaving him to finish off a few more rounds by himself.

He smiles hard when you notice him, and slides off his stool, stumbling his way toward you. You feel your heart rate pick up as he approaches you, and you remember that you do have mace in your purse, should you need it, Ruth’s one request.

“Hello, lovely. Enjoy that drink on me this evening,” he slurs with a heavy accent. He sits down in the stool beside you, and suddenly you’d rather not have that second drink, after all. You glance at the drink, and back to him, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in his presence.

“Um, thank you, really. But I—I’ve actually got to go. It’s getting to be later than I thought…” you lie, pulling out some cash from your purse to pay the bill.

“Nonsense! Have the drink, beautiful. Tell me, where are you from? Your accent tells me it’s somewhere far away from here…” he presses, pushing the drink toward you. His hands are giant, and covered in dark hair. He has a beard of the same color that reaches almost down to his stomach, and you can smell the alcohol radiating from his breath.

“The States,” you say bluntly, avoiding eye contact with him as the bartender is nowhere to be found. You immediately kick yourself for not telling Dean where you had run off to, all by yourself. You know better than this.

“Obviously, sweetheart. But where?” he asks.

“Um, a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it,” you go on, beginning to pull your jacket on and leave the money on the bar top. Suddenly the man’s hand is on the back of the stool, holding it steady as you try to turn it.

“I’d like to hear all about it, love,” he growls, and you suddenly feel very intimidated. There is no one else around, no other patrons at the bar, you couldn’t feel the presence of another human or employee running about, and you contemplated making a run for it.

“I promise I’m not here to scare you, just talk. That’s all I’d like to do…” he goes on, backing his hand away from the chair as he notices your panic. Finally, the bartender makes his way back, but instead of taking your check, he continues cleaning and re-stocking for the night. You’re alone, and uncomfortable. Why did you do this to yourself?

Suddenly you remember that Jake put his number in your phone. You know you can’t get a hold of Dean at this hour, especially since you didn’t tell him you were going anywhere. You can’t make that bad of a first impression before your first day even really happens.

You quickly turn your attention to your phone, trying to figure out what to do, but then it hits you. You type in the name, taking a deep breath before sending Jake a risky text as a last ditch effort.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone, hmm?” the man asks as you turn away from him to type as quickly as you can.

You

1:47AM: Jake, are you awake?

Your foot taps nervously on the floor, the man next to you doing everything in his power to corner you into this seat. A text bounces back after a minute, and you feel your shoulders relax just a touch.

Jake 🗡

1:49AM: How did you get this number?

You

1:50AM: You put it in my phone today on the plane. Are you busy?

Jake 🗡

1:51AM: Oh, hey. No, I’m just getting ready to go to bed, why what’s up? You okay?

You

1:52AM: No. I don’t think so. I hate to ask this, I know it’s late. Is there any way you could come meet me? I left to get something to eat and didn't tell anyone and this guy here has me cornered into my seat and I don't think he is gonna let me leave alone.

Jake 🗡

1:53AM: Share your location, I’m leaving now.

You

1:54AM: Thank you. I owe you.

“Did you hear me sweetheart? I said, are you expecting someone?” the man asks, a sly grin on his face as he leans closer to you.

You quickly glance back down at your phone, sharing your location with Jake and hoping he can find you. You lock your phone and put it in your purse, pretending you’re a lot less anxious than you actually are.

“Actually, yes, I am. My…boyfriend is on his way. He’ll be here in just a second.” you lie, doing your best to speak confidently. “I should probably step outside to meet him.”

“No, no, stay, you haven’t touched your drink,” he says, gesturing to the glass of alcohol. “I know a place down the street, stays open late, too.”

You feel your skin start to grow clammy, the man's intentions suddenly becoming very clear. Your heart is pounding as you try to talk your way out of the situation. You clear your throat, and just as you start to speak you see the front door of the restaurant open. Jake steps inside, looking side to side, his eyes quickly scanning the entirety of the restaurant until he locks eyes with you.

He nods to the host at the door as he walks toward you, wearing the same clothes from earlier but now his hair is a little messier. You know he got out of bed to do this.

You instantly stand from your seat as Jake steps up, reaching towards him as he settles himself between you and the man.

“Hey baby, you finally made it,” you coo, your pleading eyes locked on Jake’s as he wraps his arm around your shoulder in a welcoming hug. You can smell him, the cologne lingering on his coat. The same coat that was wrapped around you only hours ago.

He pulls away and drops his arms to his side as you turn to him. You stare at him just a second longer, hoping he can hear the words you are screaming in your mind. He blinks and turns to look at the man before letting his eyes flick back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, of course babe, sorry I was late,” he pauses, turning to face the drunk man beside him. “Who is this?”

You let out a small breath of relief as he silently agrees to play along with you. “Oh, he came over from the bar. He sent this drink over, but I just can’t drink it. I already had one and you know I work in the morning,” you answer, hoping he is understanding what you’re trying to say. “Do you want it?”

He looks so effortless standing there with a hand in his jacket pocket. He tilts his head and scrunches his nose just a bit before answering, “Ahh, nah…It looks like a watered down well pour and I just had one myself before I got here. I’m alright. We should probably get going though, we have an early day tomorrow and it’s fairly late already.”

Yes.

“Oh, you two are terrible liars. He isn’t your boyfriend, is he sweetheart?” the man asks, scoffing at Jake. “You should come with me, I can show you the city better than this fool.”

“That’s an awfully brazen assumption, sir, I must say.” Jake argues, pulling his hand from his coat pocket and grabbing yours. You suck in a harsh breath feeling his fingers lace with yours. Fake or not, there was definitely a new feeling swirling through your veins.

“Look at her, she’s flustered. This woman hasn’t ever been touched by you. It’s written all over her face.” he continues, looking Jake over.

“Your boyfriend, your husband, he isn’t any of those things. I don’t see a ring on your finger, and I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but in this country, you my dear, are fair game.”

You want to snap back. The audacity is astounding. You start to step forward, ready to lay into him, but you feel Jake’s hand squeeze yours and you know he’s telling you to follow his lead this time.

“She is with me, sir,” Jake spits. “And it would be in your best interest to back off.”

“Oh, is that right?” the man counters, standing up from his seat, giving him a few good inches over Jake. Jake didn’t falter though. Of course he didn’t. He knew that didn’t matter.

“Kiss her, then. If she’s yours, kiss her,” he quips.

“Absolutely not, I don’t have to prove anything to you, and quite frankly sir, it’s none of your business,” Jake snaps, you can tell he’s starting to get mad, his hand gripping yours a little harder. “Let’s go, babe.”

You stand firm next to him, not letting your face show a single waiver of emotion as the man waits to see if you’ll crack. Jake starts to walk away pulling you behind him, but before you can move the man grabs your other arm, taking both of you by surprise.

“Stay, sugar. Let a real man take you home.”

Jake snaps his head around, hearing the words fall from the man's drunken mouth. For a minute you’re scared. You don’t know how Jake is going to react, his jaw is hard set and his nostrils flared in anger. You hear him curse under his breath as he shakes his head.

“You know what? Fuckin’ fine…” he challenges, looking at the man then to you, nodding just enough for you to notice.

Just as you feel the anxiety of what he is about to do bloom in your chest, he reads your body language, letting a sweet and quiet ‘S’okay’ slip from his lips.

Your eyes widen a little as you realize what’s about to happen, but take solace in the fact that he’s likely just as nervous as you are. He stops, pulling you in towards him as his hand grabs at your waist.

His fingers grip into your hairline as he tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes over your lips, hot and wet as your hands slide up his body to rest on his chest. You kiss him back, you’re trying to sell this as the real thing, but also partly because you just want to. You try not to think about that part too much as you let your tongue flick against his just for a second before pulling it back. You feel the vibration on your lips as the softest groan leaves his mouth just as he pulls away from you.

Your lips are wet with the taste of him and your chest is heaving as Jake rubs his lips together and clears his throat. He turns to the man who is standing there staring at the two of you, a bit of challenge in his tone as he speaks. “You good now?”

The man scoffs, mumbling a curse as he bats at the air between you. You feel yourself relax in Jake’s grip as the man turns to walk back to his original place at the bar. A quiet ‘fuck’ leaves Jake’s mouth as he turns his attention back to you, stepping back and releasing his grip on you.

His eyes search yours just as yours search his, both of you unsure what to say. Instead he looks over to the man again, nodding his head to him as he grabs your hand again and guides you towards the door.

“You okay?” he asks, opening the door and letting you walk out into the drizzle. You pull your jacket closed across your front, the cold air chilling your skin.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you– for that,” you murmur as he steps up next to you. He grabs your hand again, lacing his warm fingers with your cold ones, taking you by surprise.

“Oh, it’s okay now Jake, he isn’t following us,” you offer, looking over your shoulder to check. He doesn’t drop your hand though, in fact you feel his fingertips brush across your knuckles, sending a whole different kind of chill through your body.

“I know,” he answers, smiling shyly as he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re positive he can see the blush that has taken over your cheeks, your mouth suddenly dry, and your mind unable to form a response. You feel the butterflies swirling around in your stomach as you walk towards the hotel, the rain starting to taper off finally.

“You can trust me, you know,” he says, his voice sincere as he guides you around puddles.

“I barely know you, Jake,” you smile, bumping your shoulder into his.

“For now,” he answers, squeezing your hand in his.

He opens the door to the hotel lobby, the warm air instantly hitting you. Jake drops your hand, your fingertips brushing against his. You kind of miss it, in a way you definitely shouldn’t be.

“Thank you again, for doing all of that. I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I won’t make that mistake again,” you say, watching him press the button for the elevator. Your eyes linger on his lips, a little pink from the cold air outside.

“It was no problem, I promise. Stop apologizing,” he pauses, motioning for you to step into the elevator. “Let me walk you to your room, what floor?” he asks, his finger hovering over the buttons.

“Oh, no it’s really okay, you don’t have to do that. I promise I’m good now,” you stammer, watching his lips turn up in a huff of laughter.

“Y/N, what floor?”

“Nine,” you squeak, your eyes fixated on the dimple in his cheek. You feel your skin growing warm just from looking at him, you feel like you might burst into flames just at the thought of how his lips felt on yours. Did you imagine that whole encounter? No way all of that just happened.

“Me as well,” he says, pressing the button as the doors close.

The two of you ride up in silence, casting each other the occasional glance every few seconds. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you're positive you stopped breathing. The elevator chimes as it reaches the ninth floor, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound.

He smiles at you again as the doors open, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him. “Your room number?”

“Um, I think I'm 924, all the way down,” you answer, your heart jumping in your chest.

He nods his head and puts a hand into his pocket. “Alright, I’m just up here in 915, but I’ll walk you down.”

“Jake you really don’t have to, you can just–”

He turns to you and laughs, shaking his head again. “Just let me.”

“Fine.” You huff a breath, pulling your own keycard from your purse. He walks only a step behind you, both hands in his pockets now as you step up to your door. You tap your key to the lock and hear it beep, signaling for you to enter. You turn to look at Jake, seeing a softness to his face you hadn’t noticed until now.

“Thank you, for…being such a gentleman,” you say playfully, smiling at him.

“My pleasure, Miss Y/N. There is some chivalry left in the world…” he answers, bringing his hand up to rub at his lips.

You start to enter your room, and hear him speak again, this time very quietly. “We’re not all bad.”

You turn around to see him shifting his weight still rubbing his fingers over his chin as if he expected you not to hear him.

“What?”

He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, clearly shocked you heard him. You can tell he wants to say something but he’s holding back. Maybe you’ve spooked him.

He shakes his head with a smile, as if telling himself whatever he wanted to say was stupid. He pulls his phone and his keycard from his pocket and grips them in his hand. “Nothing, nothing, um, have a good evening. I will see you in the morning, I suppose.”

You nod once, giving him a sweet and appreciative smile, “See you in the morning.”

He lingers for just a moment, eyes locked on yours before flicking down to your lips. He catches himself and looks back at you before turning to head down the hallway. You shut the hotel room door and twist the lock, letting out the breath you had been holding with a gasp.

You spin around, letting your back press against the door as you sink down to the floor with a barely audible squeal. Holy. Shit. What the hell was that?

Pull yourself together Y/N.

You grab your purse and stand up, digging through it as fast as you can in search of your phone. You have no earthly idea what time it is in Nashville but you don’t care as you pull up your texts with Ruth, and begin furiously typing.

You

2:34AM: Without going into detail I definitely just kissed the guitarist 🫢

You toss your bag onto the chair and change into your pajamas, your blood still rushing around in your body as you try to calm your nervous system. A text bounces back, and you know it’s her.

Ruth

2:40AM: WITHOUT GOING INTO DETAIL???? KISSED? I just got to my desk!!!! I’m here. I’m sat. I’m listening. I want every single detail in a five paragraph essay with MLA formatting.

You

2:42AM: Lol it is 2:40 in the morning. I will call you tomorrow, which is really still today for you, but kinda tomorrow for me? I don’t know this is confusing but I will call you and give you the full run down because we also shared airpods on the plane and he made me a playlist? Love you goodnight!

Ruth

2:44AM: AIRPODS? A PLAYLIST??????

2:45AM: Y/N NO! GET BACK HERE

2:45AM: Okay. Hang on, I’m googling him. I need to see this man’s face

2:46AM: Wait there’s two guitarists

2:46AM: Ok one is the bassist HELLO?? You kissed HIM?! Aldjsfklsk

2:48AM: It’s totally fine and I am being so normal about this. Talk to you later, if I haven’t pulled all my hair out by then! I’ll be creeping his insta all day! Goodnight!

You laugh as you read her onslaught of messages, knowing that she is likely going out of her mind with possible scenarios. You make your way into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth so that you can positively melt into the bed and sleep until your alarm forces you awake. You’re patting your face dry as your phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, but the noise it makes isn’t one you’re familiar with. You hang the towel on the ring and pick up your phone, seeing a notification come through that is brand new to you.

‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

He what?

Now?

Your blood runs cold just seeing his name on your phone after…well…whatever that was.

You turn off the bathroom light, hesitantly sliding your finger across the notification, and letting it bring up the playlist. There at the very bottom you see that a new song was added two minutes ago. But not just any song, no. You know this one. You know this one well. You tap on the song hearing the familiar and haunting guitar riff of ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer start to play through your phone speakers.

You can’t help but to laugh, a smile of shock has your jaw hanging wide open as you stand in your giant fancy hotel room, listening to what you consider to be a fairly romantic song sent straight to you from none other than your knight in shining, well, corduroy, armor. You couldn’t even picture him listening to this song, and somehow that almost made it a little better.

As the chorus plays you fall backwards onto your bed, the fluffy white sheets enveloping you as a giddy feeling swirls through your chest. He’s thinking about me. He’s thinking about that kiss. You felt guilty for thinking about it, but now? Now you weren’t feeling so guilty. He liked it just as much as you did, clearly.

Jake Kiszka liked kissing you.

You.

What?

You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of your face if you had to. You didn’t want to. This was quite possibly the most thrilling thing that has happened to you in months. Years! You had all but forgotten about creepy bar man at this point, but god you have half a mind to walk right back into that bar and shake his hand.

But, you knew you had to calm down. Take a breath. The song came to a close, leaving the hotel room silent. Your mind was still swimming in bliss, replaying the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands held yours, the way he smelled, the way his lips tasted, oh god… He was thinking about your kiss. He all but told you so.

You were also thinking about that kiss. He wanted you to know he was thinking about it. How can you– Oh. A sly grin spreads across your face as you type into the search bar.

You find the song you’re looking for, your thumb hovering over the add button as you try to talk yourself out of doing this. It could end badly, terribly, really. He is technically your boss, and you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but. Hey, you’re just the runner. You smile as you watch the little box pop up reading ‘Added’.

Your heart starts to pound. Did he get a notification? Is he asleep? Did he see it? Will he understand? Since when did you start communicating with people through song titles?

You rush back to the playlist scrolling to the bottom and smiling as you press play on the new addition to your shared playlist. It's mere seconds before ‘Do It Again’ by Steely Dan starts to play and you laugh, knowing you are absolutely crazy. Do it again, of course you wanted to do it again. God he probably thinks you’re such a loser. Plot twist, you are, but he doesn't have to know that yet.

You listen to the song, plugging your phone into the charger and turning off the lamp. You’ve always loved Steely Dan, it reminds you of your dad, but then again who doesn’t it remind of their dad? The song comes to a close, your giddy feeling finally starting to wear off as the exhaustion starts to step into its place. Your eyes feel heavy as you roll towards the nightstand to set your alarm, groaning at how soon it’s coming. You lock your phone and settle into the pillows, letting out a content sigh as you recap the day in all of its insane glory.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the glow illuminating the room for just a brief second. You freeze as you stare up at the ceiling, almost too scared to look. Did he add another song? What if he changed his mind? What if you overstepped? Oh god. You should not have done that. What were you thinking?

You suck in a breath as you grab your phone, nervously tapping the screen that shows no new songs added, but a text from Jake.

Jake 🗡

3:04AM: I fully intend to.

Oh, he definitely saw it.

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aventurineswife · 29 days ago

Note

College AU

Reader, Kaveh and Alhaitham are roommates in the same apartment and reader sometimes has the moment where they just sit/stand across the room from Kaveh while he is busy with something and yknow stare at him with that lovestruck look cuz they pining hard on that beautiful, amazing, gorgeous bbg.

And Alhaitham had caught on the fact that reader had been crushing on Kaveh for months (a very massive crush) and he just bluntly tells them one day to just say it. And reader freaks out a bit like "Whaaa? Pffft noooo, I dont...dont see him like that, ahahahaha, pls dont spill the beans...."

The rest is up to you 🤭

“If Only You Knew” | Part 1

Summary: You share an apartment with Kaveh, the charming and passionate architect, and Alhaitham, his blunt and logical friend. You've developed a massive crush on Kaveh, and sometimes, you just can’t help but stare at him with lovestruck admiration. Alhaitham, having caught onto your feelings, encourages you to confess, but you brush it off, panicking at the thought of Kaveh finding out. Though you remain the quiet admirer for now, Alhaitham’s words linger, and maybe someday, you’ll gather the courage to reveal the truth.

Tags: College AU, Modern AU, Fluff, Unrequited (but Mutual) Pining, Roommates, Love Confessions (eventual), Slow Burn, Alhaitham Being Observant, Kaveh x Reader, Humor, Light Angst, Crushes

Warnings: Mild language, secondhand embarrassment, unrequited pining (for now), Alhaitham’s blunt honesty

A/N: OMG ITS MY BEAUTIFUL ARCHITECT WIFE KAVEHHH 😍🤭💖 and his roomate... 😐

Part 2

You sat on the edge of the couch, textbook open on your lap, but your attention was decidedly not on the words. Instead, your gaze was fixed on Kaveh, who was sitting at the dining table, his messy sketchbooks and architectural plans spread out around him like the aftermath of a storm. He was fully engrossed, his blond hair falling into his eyes as he leaned over a drawing with that intense, focused look you’d come to adore.

For a moment, you just watched him. His hand moved in practiced strokes, a small smile appearing every so often, as if he was admiring his own work. You didn’t blame him; everything he created was beautiful, a reflection of the way he saw the world. You loved watching his passion, how he became so absorbed in it. Maybe one day, you'd tell him how he looked like an artwork himself, surrounded by ideas that only he could bring to life. For now, though, you’d just stare across the room, hoping he wouldn’t notice the soft, lovesick expression you probably wore.

Unfortunately, someone did notice.

"You're staring again," came a low, matter-of-fact voice from beside you.

You jumped, realizing that Alhaitham had somehow materialized in the living room without you noticing. His usual unreadable expression was tinged with a faint smirk, like he was privy to some secret.

"I—uh—what?" you stammered, trying to act casual as you quickly turned back to your textbook. "I was just...thinking. About, uh, architecture! Yeah. Architecture is...fascinating."

Alhaitham didn’t look convinced. He simply raised an eyebrow, glanced over at Kaveh, who was still oblivious, and then back at you. "You know, you could just tell him," he said bluntly. "Your crush on him isn’t exactly subtle."

Heat flooded your face. "Whaaa? Pffft, nooo, I don’t...I don’t see him like that," you protested, sounding embarrassingly unconvincing even to yourself. "I just...he’s an inspiring person. A friend (okay Adrien-). I admire his...dedication and stuff."

Alhaitham stared at you, unimpressed. "I see," he replied, deadpan. "Admiration. Is that why you’ve been looking at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen for the past six months?"

You buried your face in your hands. "Alhaitham, please, don’t spill the beans..." you whispered, mortified. If Kaveh found out...you didn’t even want to think about it. You were sure he’d laugh it off or worse, get awkward about it. The thought alone was enough to make you want to disappear.

Alhaitham sighed, sitting down next to you. "You know, you might be surprised. Kaveh isn’t as dense as you think," he said, voice softening just a little. "You’re giving him too little credit. Besides, the worst he’ll do is make an emotional speech about unrequited love and how tragic it is."

You could almost imagine it. Kaveh, in all his dramatic glory, would probably get poetic about it, turn it into some grand tale of forbidden romance. You chuckled, even as the nerves twisted your stomach.

But then Kaveh’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Hey, what’s so funny?”

You looked up, startled to see him looking at you, curiosity lighting up his bright red eyes. The blush that had only barely started to fade returned with a vengeance. "Oh! Uh...just something silly." you mumbled, trying desperately to avoid Alhaitham’s knowing gaze.

Kaveh chuckled, his attention back on his sketches. “Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one around here with a sense of humor. Alhaitham is no fun.”

“Thank you.” Alhaitham said dryly, glancing at you with a small smile.

You spent the rest of the evening nervously trying to play it cool, but every so often, Alhaitham’s words would echo in your mind, making your heart beat just a little faster. Maybe one day, you’d find the courage to tell Kaveh how you really felt. For now, though, you were content to stay right here, as his silent, hopeless admirer.

Honestly this just reminded me of MLB 💀

I should really go study for my exams and finish my homeworks...😔😔

And now I want to write something suggestive but idk what 😪👁️👁️so send in your requests with what and who you want to do your fantasy with

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inactivewattpadauthor · 4 months ago

Text

Shang Tsung x Reader: A Chance To Prove Yourself

~~~~~~~~~~~~ The leaves all swooshed on the tree they were bound to in reaction to the wind. The same tree you sat under, sulking as you usually did. A decent distance away from the Wu Shi Academy you used to be devoted. Now it made you sick in a way. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you pointed blame at the Thunder God that shut you down.

You remember all too well the secondhand embarrassment and devastation when Raiden bluntly turned you down from joining Earthrealm's champions. Right in front of your best friends, Kung Lao and Liu Kang. The demigod claimed you weren't skillful enough and your ego would get you killed in battle. Yet somehow Lao still gets to go?! The equally arrogant bastard was also confused on that part.

"Maybe Lord Raiden just wants to protect you." You recalled Liu Kang reasoning for his father figure. Bullshit. You may have started late but you train just as hard.

Ever since that situation happened, you became distant with those two. You didn't hold any resent for them, hopefully, but being around them after that made you feel negative. They're good friends and you didn't want to bring the mood down.

Dreading on about everything you were unaware of someone creeping up behind the tree.

"...And she sits alone, wondering if she will ever be good enough. Or perhaps wallowing in self-pity, believing all of them are wrong and don't deserve her strength."

You turned to whoever it was narrating you with a supercilious tone. Opening your mouth with the intent to tell them to shut the hell up, only a gasp would come out when that specific voice belonged to Shang Tsung. You knew Liu defeated him before, but it was definitely not so simple You hopped up ready for a fight with the old, evil coot.

He raises a steady hand as if he isn't looking for a fight. "Oh, so 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 going to defeat me? Do you think you'll win?" Shang asks with continuing patronization.

"No." You lost your battle stance and stood there normally, feeling stupid to even think that. Your ego couldn't be more destroyed so it's easy to be put in your place.

"Good girl. Smart." Shang chuckles and slowly walks to you. You only kept your head down. Carefully with his clawed finger guard, he tilts your chin up. "Poor Y/n. You have so much potential. Truly a loss for Earthrealm that Raiden doesn't let you fight beside him- or your close allies."

"What would you know?" You sneered, eyes following him as he walked behind but you didn't dare move your head even slightly.

"Quite a lot, actually. From the very moment he put you down, up to your friends deserting you."

"Deserting me?" Confused, you faced him and immediately corrected him. "Liu and Lao never deserted me. I just... hang out with them less. Purposely."

The old villain narrowed his maroon eyes at your rebuttal. "And have they ever asked you why? Check on you like they're supposed to? Have they ever even stood up to the foolish demigod and defended your progress?"

Being completely gagged, you couldn't defend that. The answer to those questions were all the same. "...No."

"You call them friends?" Shang shakes his head. "How does that make you feel? Don't you want to prove yourself? Show off truly what you're capable of?"

"Of course, I do!" You snap- not out of anger- but with newfound motivation. "But I train a lot every day. What more can I do?"

He pretends to think on it, you hardly notice. "I could offer my own mentoring to you, if you wish. Help you be advanced than whatever cheap combat monks do." Plotting with his back turned from you, his eyes gleamed at an extra part of the offer. Something you'd likely be interested in. "Say, do you have your own arcana?"

"I don't actually. Why?" As expected, you became more interested. You couldn't shoot fireballs or teleport annoyingly around the perimeter. But what you could do is deny the snake's offer and be a boring rejected fighter. Nope. "Could you get me one?"

"Easily." He nods, then extends his hand. "Is it a deal?"

Almost taking his hand, you retracted a bit. "Wait, what would you be getting out of it? I don't want to be accused of treason or you make me hurt them. They're not perfect but-"

"Oh dear, I would never make you hurt them. I'm trying to help you do the opposite actually. How lovely it would be to make them proud by being just as- pardon me- more powerful than them combine! And you wouldn't get in trouble unless you go chatting which I trust you wouldn't."

It all seems easy and promising. "Deal!" You smile and shook his hand, suddenly getting the feel of something awful overwhelm you. But you pushed it off thinking it was just excitement.

"Now why don't we return to my palace and discuss giving you magic." Shang begins walking away and you were quick to follow your new mentor.

"How long will that take? Won't Liu Kang or Kung Lao notice I'm missing?"

"You think so?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~

#mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #mk imagine #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagines #mk headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung x you #goddesswritings

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softmaki · 2 years ago

Text

a taken risk

summary; whilst luis was out, your boyfriend convinced you to giving him oral despite your fears of a certain someone returning and catching you.

w/c: 1.3k

c/w; gn reader (if there’s any gendered terms that slipped by lmk please!!), oral (m. receiving), facefucking, extremely tiny powerplay, some degradation + praise, one (1) singular whimper from leon, caught at the end. if I missed any tell me :)

a/n; no mention of y/n!! extremely poorly written, I’m so so sorry for that </3. I did have fun whilst doing this but I’m also sorry for any impending cringe/secondhand embarrassment. ending can pretty much be open; if you want to react a certain way you’re free to imagine it or maybe you’d even like luis to join!

“leon, we can’t,” you hiss. your brows furrow as you make eye contact with your boyfriend. “luis will be coming back inside at any moment, do you seriously want to risk it?”

he hums briefly, almost seemingly in thought until he follows it up with a smirk directed your way all too quick. and you know very well from previous experience what that expression meant.

“you can’t be serious,” you groan, crossing your arms. your hand finds it’s way to press slightly at your temple for a split second before grunting at his antics and walking towards him.

“made up your mind, doll?”, he teases. he leans back in his chair and turns his body to face you, moving his right hand to rest on his thigh whilst leaving his left on the table.

this is by far not an unfamiliar situation to you. what is, however, is the possibility of someone being able to walk in on you two so easily and catch full sight. and you suppose you should feel upset at the thought of getting caught, though you only find it strangely enticing.

you kneel down in front of leon and your arms quickly raise up to fumble with his buckle, feeling the familiar leather under you fingers and sighing to yourself. in your rush to get to his dick you find yourself struggling with the belt an uncharacteristic amount.

“slow down, doll. ‘m not going anywhere.”

you roll your eyes as you look up at him and give him an unamused stare, quickly focusing back on his belt. he chuckles at your dismissal but bites back a groan as you successfully manage to tug open his belt and zipper and palm him roughly.

“mm, i guess so. but i’d rather not have someone walking in on us, y’know?”

he gives you a lazy grin, finding amusement in your justifiable fear, though also harbouring a knowing glint in his eye that just screams ‘i know the idea of getting caught is turning you on’.

you huff at him before tugging down his boxers just enough to free him from his confinements yet you quickly get to work. your hand wraps firmly around his shaft as you start to give him some slow pumps, licking your lips at the sight. you admire the sight as you feel his warm skin beneath your fingers, and you find the pretty shade of pink that his tip has turned awfully pretty.

he releases a sigh of pleasure, so faint your ears barely pick up on it. you smile slyly at him before looking up to lock eyes with him. your hand doesn’t stop it’s rhythm, instead running your fingertip around his slit and rubbing some of the oozing precum down his shaft, subtly picking up in pace as his hooded eyes lock onto you.

“weren’t you the one insisting we hurry up, sweetheart? what happened to that, huh?”

“who knows,” you giggle, furrowing your brows briefly to imitate an innocent expression on your face. “maybe i’ve decided to take my time. is that so bad, mr. kennedy?”

he opens his mouth to retort something, yet he’s caught slightly off-guard as soon as he feels a wet warmth on his cock for a brief moment. you repeat the action, your tongue jutting out ever so slightly to lick at his slit and tease him as you lap up the salty and bitter fluid, rewarding you with a deep hum in the process. you feel somewhat bad though for going slow, so you give him a few preparatory kisses along his shaft along with a few more pumps before gently resting his tip on your tongue. you keep your eye contact with him going, and he whispers something below his breath before letting his right hand reach down to tug your hair up so he can hold it tightly in his hand.

you know what’s about to come next, and as you don’t want him to win in this imaginary competition, you bob your head down suddenly. you only reach about half way down, not because that’s your limit, but because you still don’t want him to get what he yearned for so soon. even if it meant taking longer than you would’ve liked. you keep your hand wrapped around his base and you give him a firm squeeze as you lift your head up.

yet you don’t fully lift your head. his tip is now resting at the back of your tongue and you can feel his hand now gaining control over you. the hair he tightly holds in his fist provides ample support in him tugging your head back to hold it in place as he slowly starts to thrust up into your mouth.

you lock eyes with him for the third or so time tonight and you let him thrust as deep as he’d like. your hands have moved to rest on either side of you on his thighs, grip tightening as his pace picked up.

“just like that, huh. relinquished all your control like that,” he moans. “what a fuckin’ whore.”

you try to retort something, though it’s proving futile as he currently has reign over your mouth. the chair squeaks below him as his thrusts pick up in vigour, and you can start to feel him reaching the back of your throat and the feeling of his balls slapping against your chin is noted somewhere deep down in your brain.

“mmf!”, you manage to get out. the vibrations of your pitiful attempt at speech on his dick left him gasping for air for a second, though he soon regains himself and tightens his grip on your hair further.

a mix of your saliva and his precum started leaking out of the corner of your mouth, and unbeknownst to you his heart soared at the sight. his pretty partner on their knees, his dick in their throat as they drool around him. a true sight for sore eyes if it was up to him.

you quickly realised the effect both your attempted speech and believably outward appearance had on him so you started moaning around his dick more, now also flattening your tongue against him and hollowing your cheeks to provide him with more suction. as according to some plan, his thrusts picked up further in pace, which is something you didn’t even know was possible at the moment. what was shocking though, was the small whimper that left his throat.

his tempo hiccups slightly, though he stabilises himself and releases a deep moan. whether it was an attempt to cover up the whimper or a genuine outlet of his pleasure, you wouldn’t know. either way, between the ways his rhythm started becoming erratic, the longer and louder moans, his head falling back and his eyes screwing shut as he panted, you knew he was reaching his climax.

“fuckin’ slut. look at you, so pretty with my dick shoved down your throat,” he spews. “bet you want my cum down your throat too, huh.”

you couldn’t nod as he held your head tightly in place, so you release a particularly loud hum around him in response. he groans once again, and a smirk covers his handsome face as his pace starts becoming more twitchy.

only a minute or two after that does he actually release, his hand shoving your head down until your nose is buried into his neatly trimmed hair and you can feel his warm cum fill your throat as he releases a particularly long moan of relief. his grip on your hair finally loosens, and you splutter around him trying to contain all of the fluid.

it’s also at this time that the door swings wide open. your eyes widen as you look above the table between you and the door and see luis standing in the doorway, bewildered. leon’s release was far too much for you to hold it all in, and some ends up spilling out of the corners of your mouth, trickling down your chin. leon seems indifferent, his left hand that remained at rest on the table waving up in some half-assed attempt at a wave to luis.

“guess i’ve interrupted something important then, eh?”

a/n; I’m apologising again. not proofread properly either and for him being a bit ooc D:

#re2 leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #vendetta leon #leon s kennedy #re4 leon #leon kennedy #resident evil 4 smut #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #re2 remake #leon s kennedy smut #infinite darkness leon

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yesornopolls · 6 months ago

Note

Do you ever get such strong secondhand embarrassment from certain scenes while watching movies/shows that you have to pause it & brace yourself to continue watching? Yes/no

#polls #tumblr polls #poll #yes or no #thanks for the question

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kwinsispn3 · 2 months ago

Text

Enough

@spnfamilyj2m: Hi love, I hope you're doing alright! If this blog is still active, could you do a story where Sam and Dean find out about Y/N's self harm and eating disorder, and she's their little sister? Thank you!

Warnings: self harm, talk of ED/body dysmorphia, very angst and dark. A/N: if you are struggling, please reach out to someone <3. Also, sorry it's so long I went into detail, but I hope I wrote it okay for all.

Pairings: Winchester Brothers x sister!reader, plus Jody

Word Count: 4,317

You had grown up in a male dominant environment. You, Y/n Winchester was usually the only girl around your family and friends, the attention often fell on you because of that. But despite eyes always falling on you, body image wasn't something you really knew anything about, so it never crossed your mind. Well, it never used to.

None of the guys around you, mainly your brothers, never made any comments on how they viewed themselves, on the outside. There was never much emphasis put on physical appearance for you. The only thing on the outside that was a thing in your mind was clothes. You got hand me downs from Sam and Dean, secondhand clothes from thrift stores. Occasionally as you got older, you got to go shopping for new clothes - which became necessary because neither of your older brothers owned any bras.

Then you started high school... and it all changed.

Freshman year... It was like your eyes were opened for the very first time to the struggles of being a girl and your body image. It started when you were sitting in one of the bathroom stalls one day, a group of girls flooded in. They were considered one of the more popular groups in your grade. The group scattered around the sinks, you peeked through the slit in the stall door to see what they were doing. The girls were looking in the mirrors, faces pressed super close with their fingers picking, pulling, moving the skin on their face around.

"Ugh, how do you get rid of a double chin? I swear I'm starting to get one." One girl complained.

"I wish my fat would go to my face, mine's all going straight to my hips."

The girls kept going on and on, commenting on their appearances negatively, while complementing each other positively. You had never heard anyone talk like this before in middle school, before it was all about what outfit you were wearing, which you quickly learned didn't matter to you.

That evening when you got back to the bunker after school, you went into the bathroom to take a shower. After undressing, you caught your gaze in the mirror and stopped. The way you looked in the mirror at yourself that night was different from how you had ever looked at yourself before. You recalled the conversations between all those girls in the bathroom at school, it all began to manifest itself in your own mind.

The shower must have been running for almost a half hour, because Sam knocked on the door. You were normally quick to shower, but you hadn't even gotten in yet. You had gotten distracted looking at every inch of your body, grabbing different areas of skin and turning around to see every angle.

"Y/n? .... you alright in there?" Sam asked lightly.

You panicked. There was no way he would've believed if you were fixing your hair, or taking off your makeup. You weren't even wearing makeup yet, or doing anything crazy to your hair. You couldn't think of anything else, so...

"Uh, yeah! I just.... think I've been a little constipated." You called out, taking a step towards the toilet, giving it a flush. You slapped your head in embarrassment to what you just said.

"Oh. Okay..." Sam awkwardly said before walking away.

"Why's she taking so long?" Dean asked, as he saw Sam enter the library.

"Uhm. I guess she's trying to poop."

Dean made a face that Sam couldn't read, looking confused. "I don't wanna know...."

The rest of high school flew by in the blink of an eye. You could say you had a pretty distorted self image. You had good days where you felt confident, but bad days too where you felt self conscious. No one had ever gone out of their way to tell you how you looked. You never had anyone saying you were too thick or thin, it just all came from what you picked up on in your surroundings. The skin on your bones started to feel like it was too much. Seeing photos posted online from your peers in swimsuits and revealing outfits. You knew your brothers would NEVER let you out of the bunker wearing anything like them, but for you, all you wanted was to look thin and fit in your normal clothes. You didn't want your thighs to touch, or your stomach to fold over when you sat down. You really started to take it seriously after graduating high school.

You tried to start thinking about it with a healthy mentality of wanting to maintain a good diet and exercise. You thought, starting to create a good habit of doing so now, would make it easier in the future. But the intrusive thoughts kept creeping in your mind, telling you how you should look, and what you had to do to get there. So, you really started to commit.

You were too far into it at this point. Constantly body checking in the mirror and weighing yourself, multiple times per day. You'd go for runs twice a day, once in the early morning before your brothers woke up, then again in the afternoon. Finishing off workouts with sit-ups and pushups in your bedroom. You'd be lying if you said it was easy to hide from your brothers, they eventually started to pick up on it.

Part of you wanted to reach out for help, you wanted someone to help pull you out of this hellish habit you had dug yourself into. The other part of you couldn't. You couldn't bear to think of what Sam and Dean would think of you if they found out, or what they would do. You did a pretty good job of acting like yourself, normal attitude and all, even though you felt nothing like it. You only wore baggy clothes so they didn't notice how thin you had gotten. The only noticeable change was in your face, the bags under your eyes and how they looked sunken into your face. You chalked it up to a possible iron deficiency which was somehow believable enough for them.

You had a whole thing going, and you didn't... well, couldn't stop yourself. You had accepted that this was your life now, as terrible as it was. All until, a simple trip to Jody's fudged up your whole plan.

You three got out of the impala in Jody's driveway. You were kind of excited to be there, it had been a while since you three had seen anyone else besides each other. Jody happened to be on the way home after a hunt, Sam suggested stopping by after calling ahead to make sure she was home.

"Hey! you guys... and my girl!" Jody greeted happily at the door. You gave her a hug and walked inside. She looked taken back after hugging you, noticing how bony you felt. "What? What's wrong?" Dean asked, noticing her change in face.

"Um, nothing. It's just been a while, y'all have changed." She smiled back, brushing it off for now.

All of you sat down and started to catch up, after almost 2 hours, Jody suggested dinner.

"Is it alright if I order pizza? I didn't get the chance to prepare anything before you guys showed up." Jody chuckled.

"No worries, Jody. Uh, yeah I'm down though." Dean smirked, looking at you and Sam. He said yes as well, and you nodded.

SHIT. Dinner. You didn't even think about that. Jody usually offers dinner when you three visit, knowing how you guys don't get chances to sit down together much.

The pizza arrived and you were panicking. It felt nauseating just thinking about eating. You all sat down and prepared your plates. You picked at your plate, taking the slightest nibble, not able to force yourself to eat any more. Jody noticed immediately, never seeing you behave this way.

"Y/n, you okay?" She asked lightly.

Your heart was pounding. "Um, yeah... why?"

"You've barely touched your pizza..." Jody pointed out, grabbing Sam and Dean's attention.

"Oh, I... I'm just not feeling too well." next thing you see is a hand reaching out and palming your forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever." Dean said while chewing his food.

"No, it's nothing like that. My stomach just feels a little queasy." You sat back, placing a hand on your stomach. You weren't lying, you did feel a little nauseated.

"Well, here, drink some water." Sam pushed your glass of water closer to you. "Just... try and eat a little bit." Dean chimed in.

All of their questions and nagging felt like they were getting to you, they were probably starting to get suspicious. You just couldn't bring yourself to eat another bite, your stomach started swimming and you couldn't hold it back anymore. You jumped up from the table, rushing to the bathroom.

"Y/n?!" Jody called out, rushing after you with Sam and Dean following behind. Jody approached the threshold of the bathroom door, seeing you hunched over the toilet. "Oh, honey..." Jody came over, placing a gentle hand on your back and helping you hold your hair. She turned around to Sam and Dean who were towering in the doorway, making the bathroom feel smaller than it was. She waved her other hand at them, motioning nicely for them to get out.

You were breathing heavily, having nothing else in your stomach to get out. You started dry heaving, Jody sat next to you, attempting to calm you down. As you found even breaths again, you sat down next to the bathtub, letting it hold you up with your hands in your lap. You felt so weak and defeated, and knew Jody was going to start asking questions.

"Y/n.... are you sure you're just sick?" She asked, studying your body language and pretty much everything else. You nodded weakly, avoiding eye contact. She gently lifted your hands into hers, rubbing her thumbs against your palms and your wrists in a calming way. You didn't notice, but she proceeded to feel how small your arms felt in her hands.

Jody's breath hitched, she looked up at you with such sadness and disbelief in her eyes. "Y/n! What is going on?" She asked in a hushed but urgent voice.

You tried holding back the tears, but her words broke you. You knew she was disappointed. Jody looked at you with sad eyes and pulled you into a hug. You accepted and wrapped your arms around her, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort you didn't know you needed.

"I'm sorry..." You finally cried out.

Jody pulled back slightly. "Hey, you don't need to apologize. I just don't want to see you hurt yourself. If you're hurting, you need to ask for help." You nodded again, not knowing what to say. Not wanting to say anything.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think you should." She suggested, but knowing she was more politely demanding. "Are you eating?"

There was a long silence. You were barely eating, you knew what you were doing. You just didn't want to admit to it out loud. You gave in and shook your head 'no'

Jody let out a heavy long sigh. "Does Sam or Dean know?"

You shook your head 'no' again, and urgently looked up towards the door, remembering where you were and what was going on. You had really hoped they weren't around the corner listening. "Well, I really think you should tell them..." Jody said. She continued to talk to you about what you were doing and how it was going to hurt you in the long run if you didn't stop soon. She was very mindful of her word choice, careful not to upset or trigger you. You stared blankly at the wall, listening to her spiel, sort of waiting for it to be over so you could go home. You were so tired, and just wanted to sink into your bed and go to sleep so you wouldn't have to deal with everything.

"We all love you y/n. I'm not mad... I will say I am upset to see you like this, but that's because I care about you, and so do Dean and Sam."

"Can you promise me that you'll tell them?" Jody asked.

You nodded slowly in response. "Yeah." You said, barely a whisper. You lied. You didn't want to tell them. You knew you should, but you weren't ready. "Okay, why don't you go wait in the car, I'm gonna say goodbye to the boys." Jody stood up, helping you up and out of the bathroom.

You walked past the kitchen where your brothers were sitting to reach the front door. You could feel their eyes on you, but you didn't engage. You climbed into the backseat of the impala and sprawled across the bench, laying your head down and crying softly to yourself before falling asleep.

Jody came back into the kitchen with both the Winchester boys' eyes on her. Sam looked extremely concerned, Dean just looked deflated of emotion.

"Well...? Is she okay?" Sam asked.

Jody paused. "Well... honestly... no. And, I really shouldn't be telling you this, because she promised me she would tell you both. But... I don't think she's ready to say anything anytime soon, so..."

"So, what's the problem?" Sam asked once more.

"I think... she most definitely has some kind of eating disorder going on."

Sam and Dean were definitely shocked to say the least. They knew their baby sister had struggled with things before like depression and anxiety, but nothing like this. Jody of course made sure that they had an idea to what that meant, which they did to an extent. But Jody still took some time to explain to them the whole picture and how to go about dealing with it for you.

"Thanks, Jody." Sam said as they finished up their conversation and got ready to leave.

Dean was speechless. He couldn't fathom that you felt this way, were doing this to yourself. All under his care and he didn't even know. That's what hurt the most.

"Thanks.... uh." Dean muttered. Jody pulled him into a hug after Sam's hug. "I know, it's a lot to handle."

"We'll be in touch." Dean gave the best smile he could muster up. "Yes, we will. Call me if you need anything." Jody emphasized. Both men gave her a wave as the got into the car.

First thing they did was look back at you, thinking they would have to say something, start discussing things on the way home. They weren't looking forward to it, knowing how upset and vulnerable you'd feel. But you were fast asleep. A little bit of relief washed over them both. They could give you the night to rest, start fresh, and give themselves the night to think. You all got home pretty late, you were still sleeping in the back seat.

"I'll get her to bed, if you wanna unpack the car." Sam offered.

"No, I got 'er." Dean said softly. He opened the back door and slowly scooted your body out of the car towards his reach. He lifted you up like it was nothing to him. Of course, he hadn't recalled the last time he had to carry you to bed, but you were definitely a lot lighter. Dean cringed at how little you weighed as he carried you to bed, setting your frame down on the mattress. He stood there for a moment, taking in your appearance, not wanting to believe that you were dealing with... what you were dealing with. He questioned himself, wondering if there was something he should have done better to prevent you from thinking that way about yourself.

Sam popped in the doorway. "Hey... "

Dean turned around, acknowledging his presence, then looking back once more before leaving the room. He closed your door quietly and stood there still outside of it.

"Sammy, I.... I don't know what to do." Dean paused, not sure if he wanted to continue.

"I know. It's uh..." Sam also at a loss for words.

"I just don't wanna say the wrong thing, or make it worse, but we can't let her keep going like that."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, well... remember. Jody said we just gotta take it one step at-."

"Yup. Got it." Dean cut him off. The two exchanged looks before going their separate ways for the night.

You woke up in your bed, like usual, but slowly started to recall the events of last night. You stared at the ceiling, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to do anything. You looked over at the time to see you had slept in a little bit. Normally, you would've been up already after your first morning run, and then eating "breakfast". But you could feel how much your body was craving that sleep. You returned your gaze back to the ceiling and teared up, and then became silent cries. You felt like such a let down and so embarrassed. Jody knew, and soon your brothers had to know if they didn't already know. You didn't want them to know you had sunk this low.

You got up and decided to just go face them now. Knowing that if you hid in your room all day, they'd get suspicious and come check on you anyways. But, hey, maybe there was a chance that Jody didn't tell them. You immediately smelled breakfast in the halls of the bunker. It wasn't your usual "breakfast" it was actually breakfast. You knew Dean for sure made something for all three of you. You reluctantly entered the kitchen to see them sitting down at the table, with a plate waiting for you.

"Morning, sweetheart!" Dean said with as much enthusiasm as he could without sounding like too much. Sam had a sympathetic smile on his face. Oh shit, they definitely knew.

You sat down, not knowing why. You really wanted to run back into your room and go back to bed. There was a silence that fell over the room.

"Sleep well?" Dean asked.

You had no desire to talk, but maybe you didn't have to just yet if you played along. You had been doing it for this long so far. "Yeah, actually. Feeling much better." You added some cheer into your voice, reaching for the fork and knife next to your plate of scrambled eggs.

The brothers exchanged some confused looks. You knew they were onto you, so, you attempted to eat a little bit of eggs before excusing yourself. "Mhm, I need to pee... I'll uh, finish this later." You said getting up from your seat and leaving the room before they could say anything. So many thoughts crossed your mind walking back to your room.

Why didn't I just stay in my room, I could've avoided that, I feel terrible, I just want this all to stop.

You closed the door to your room, walking over to your bed and sinking down to the floor, leaning against the frame. You needed a distraction from everything in your mind, and proceeded to do the first thing that came to your mind. Reaching in your nightstand for a razor blade, you pinched it between your fingers and held it to the side of your wrist. You took a breath before dragging the blade against the skin, taking a longer deep breath and letting your mind focus on it.

Sam and Dean look at each other, so much going through each of their minds.

"Was this too much? Did we try too soon?" Dean fretted.

"I don't know, I can't tell yet." Sam whispered.

They spoke softly as you walked away, but they heard you close your bedroom door, not the bathroom door. Sam let out a heavy sigh. He thought more and more about your behavior over the past year and tried piecing it together.

Both of them agreed one of them should go talk to you. Both of them talking at once right now might make it feel like a lot for you. Dean stood up, taking the plates away, starting to clean up. Sam got up slowly after that and made his way towards your room.

"Y/n?" He called out softly after knocking.

You were so focused on what you were doing, it almost felt like you were in a trance for a moment. Then the noise of Sam knocking registered in your brain, but it was too late.

"Y/n? Can I-" He stopped as he opened your door slightly, seeing you sitting there on the ground with a blade up to your wrist.

You turned around in shock and jumped when you saw him. You broke down as you walked up to the door, almost falling over trying to shut it. Sam was quick to put his hands on the door, not letting you close it. "Sam, stop!!" You rose your voice.

"Y/n! It's okay." Was all Sam could say as he pushed past the door to you. He grasped your wrists, not wanting you to hurt yourself any more. He picked up the razor blade off the ground, quickly putting it in his pocket. "No! Let go, please!" You pleaded.

"Y/n/n, please. It's okay." Sam said in his most calm voice. He dragged you a bit towards the bathroom, your weak legs having no choice but to follow him. Sam turned on the sink, reaching to put your wrist under the running water. You tried to pull away, he gave you a sympathetic look but held your hand there as he reached with his other hand for a few tissues and a towel. You winced in pain as he put pressure with tissue on your cut.

Dean heard the frustrated voices and commotion so he dropped what he was doing and walked towards it, stopping when he noticed you and Sam through the doorway to the bathroom. He saw Sam holding bloody tissues to your wrist and knew.

"Y/n! Wha-....."

"It's alright, c'mon." Sam felt you tense up and guided you back to your room.

"Sam, no. It's not alright." Dean followed closely behind.

"Dean! Not now." Sam rushed. He went and sat you down on your bed, wanting you to feel comfortable.

"Uh, yeah we're gonna do this now... now that she's doing this too!" Dean's voice got louder. You could tell by his voice that he wasn't mad, he was just furiously worried, which was sometimes worse.

"Too?" You asked hesitantly.

"Yeah y/n, too! As in, I don't need you hurting yourself in multiple ways now." Dean yelled.

That was it, you couldn't hold back anymore and let your emotions go. They knew, they knew for sure. You had disappointed them, and got them worried about you.

"Dammit!" Dean shouted, not being able to help himself.

"Dean! If you can't contain yourself, you need to step out." Sam urged.

"You are such a beautiful girl, y/n." Dean ignored Sam. "You know you can always come to us, right? You're scarin' me right now."

"M' sorry, Dean." You cried, dropping your head down and letting your hair fall to the sides. Sam tucked your hair behind your ear, still kneeled in front of you holding your wrist in a towel.

Hearing you in such pain made Dean turn around, taking in the scene in front of him. "No... no, no, no y/n. You don't need to apologize. "I'm just sorry that something or someone around made you feel like you aren't good enough. Not beautiful enough. Cause, that is not the case at all... You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on." Dean came closer, kneeling down next to you.

His words made their way to your heart and you couldn't help but break down that wall you had built up for so long. You nodded. "I never meant for it to go this far." You cried, still looking down. "Please don't send me away, somewhere. I can't do that. I'll try, I can't go-." You sent your mind into a panic, starting to talk in a frenzy.

"Hey, hey, don't worry. We don't want to send you away....but... we do think you should at least go talk to someone." Sam reassured.

"I agree." Dean chimed in. "A-and we- me and Sam will be here for you, whatever you need!"

You looked up and looked at both of your brothers. You nodded, letting a few more tears go. "I tried to tell you before, but I couldn't..."

"I know bug, it's alright. But, we are in this world to make a mark with our qualities, our talents, what makes us unique. Not our looks. Lead with the inside, not the outside, because that's the part that matters. Sam expressed.

"I just don't want to see you worrying about the wrong things. You are worth so much more than how you look. We love you, y/n. We want to see you love yourself, and you deserve to."

You calmed down and sat for a while with Sam and Dean, listening to their words. You felt a lightness wash over you, feeling a little sense of yourself come back. "Thank you." you said. "I'm scared as hell, but I want things to be different."

Sam wiped your stray tears with this thumb, and placed a hand over your shoulder. "That's okay, that is a great start!"

"We got you, y/n. Always." Dean brought you into a hug with Sam. You let out a much needed breath, relaxing your tenseness, feeling safe and hopeful for the first time in a long time.

#spnfandom #sister winchester #spn #sister!reader #sister!winchester #spn fan fic #winsister #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #jody mills #angst

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