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eloves-writes · 5 months

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careful who you’re talking to

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni

it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.

especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.

you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.

“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.

coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.

“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”

snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”

“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”

festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”

coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.

the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.

he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.

festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”

oh you’ll hear it alright.

“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”

on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.

“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.

he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.

“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.

“what?”

“you heard me.”

either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.

“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.

“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”

you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.

“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”

“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.

“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.

“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.

coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”

a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”

he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”

“am i yours?”

he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”

“i’m yours.”

“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.

you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.

“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.

he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.

“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.

he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.

corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.

you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”

you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.

coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.

your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.

snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.

you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.

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wileys-russo · 4 months

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leah williamson, “i can’t sleep”, bed

i can't sleep II l.williamson

"baby are you coming to bed?" you questioned, leant against the doorframe of the spare bedroom where leah laid on the bed playing fifa. given how much the blonde often raged when gaming you'd banned her and the ps5 to the spare room when in use.

"two more games babe, gee's bein a nasty little rat!" leah yelled in the direction of her phone. "not my fault ya shit on defence leah!" you heard the girls voice sing back on the other line and you could imagine the smug look on her face.

"okay, i'll be in bed waiting." you chuckled, stepping inside and moving to press your lips softly to her cheek as leah blew you a kiss, eyes focused on the screen.

assuming she'd be at least another hour you stayed up, busying yourself reading a book you'd been meaning to get around to for awhile anyway.

sure enough within the hour leah finally appeared, your book snapped shut and placed aside right in time for her to practically dive on top of you. "leah!" you laughed as her face smushed into your neck.

"hello lover girl." she mumbled against the skin, trailing kisses up against your jaw eventually reaching your lips. "hello loser." you teased, stealing a kiss as she scoffed and sat up.

"georgia texted you didn't she." your girlfriend sighed as you nodded with a smile, leah rolling off of you and landing on her back with a thud. "she cheated!" leah pouted as you now hovered over her with a mocking nod.

"mhm, i'm sure she baby." you patted her shoulder sarcastically as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and wiggled herself underneath the covers as you flicked off the lamp and engulfed the room into darkness, only illuminated by the screen of leahs phone.

the two of you made small talk for awhile, mostly discussing your schedules for tomorrow before after a few kisses you entangled your limbs together and setted.

well, you settled.

"love are you awake?" your eyes fluttered open with a hum, patting her side. "go to sleep lee, you have to be up early." you warned with a yawn, kissing her exposed shoulder blade.

you thought she'd listened, her breathing evening out as your hand gently scratched lines up and down her sides trying to soothe her. but when a loud and long exhale left her mouth, your eyes cracked open once again.

"i can't sleep."

"okay, whats on your mind baby?" you pulled your head off her chest, moving to the pillow and looking across at her, arms still draped across one another. "everything, nothing, something." leah sighed vaguely, staring up at the ceiling.

"well which one is it? everything, something or nothing?" you smiled in amusement, thumb tracing the tattoo which you knew sat on her hip bone. "lots of questions, all of the above." leah again answered vaguely.

"like what? lay em on me." you questioned, other hand moving to push a loose strand of hair out of her face.

"okay, well. what happens when we die? does heaven even exist? what does it mean to be alive? why are we even alive? where do emotions come from? who invented emotions? who felt the first emotion and called it an emotion? what is the meaning of life? who decided that was the meaning of life?what is the goal of humanity? how do you know if you've lived a fulfilling life?" leah rattled off one by one as your mouth dropped open a little.

"um, well i guess...maybe if you just-" you struggled on how to even answer her, trying to remember all of her questions as your eyebrows knitted into a tight frown.

"nah i'm just joking babe, back scratches please." your girlfriend slid down the bed and turned onto her stomach, grabbing your hand and sliding it up her top. "are you serious?" you sighed deeply, eyes squeezed shut as leah gently kissed your neck.

"yeah baby, you know i can't sleep without them. get to it woman!" leah jostled you slightly and closed her eyes again. when your arm didn't move she cracked one eye open, chancing a glance up at you as your eyes glared down at her in dissaproval.

"i mean...back scratches please? gorgeous, wonderful, beautiful, perfect love of my life?" leah smiled, leaning up and kissing your cheek a few times in apology.

"you're lucky you're cute williamson."

#woso #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader

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luvnoirs · 3 months

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caught

paring: paige x fem!reader synopsis: reader walks in on kk and paige during a tiktok live and accidentally exposes their relationship warning(s): none ! (sfw) word count: 742

a/n: shoutout to oomf for giving me this idea lmao

"hey guys. where's p?" you question after you opened the front door to one of the team's shared apartment.

you had first stopped by your girlfriend's shared apartment which was next door, only to find out that she wasn't there. confused, you had sent her a text that had gone unanswered for ten minutes. so then you decided to go next door to see if her other teammates knew where the hell she was.

you were first met with amari as she held a jar of pickles, half of a pickle being chewed in her mouth while she held the remaining half in her hand. aubrey sat on the couch cheering on aaliyah as she wildly danced in front of the tv playing just dance 4.

amari was the only one who actually noticed your presence and she nodded towards the back of the apartment where the rooms were located since her mouth was still busy chewing on the salty pickle.

you thanked her as you made your way out of the common area and into the hallway. you could already hear loud chatter accompanied with the sound of music playing. you instantly knew one of the voices belonged to kk, so you decided to open it because paige was known to keep kk by her side most times.

your assumption was proven right once you finally opened the door and laid your eyes on kk and paige goofing off in front of an iphone camera. their backs were faced towards you while ice laid on the bed playing fortnite so she noticed you first. yet, her eyes widened a bit before they quickly cut towards kk and paige's direction. but before ice could say anything you had beat her to it.

"babe, seriously?"

kk paused her dancing while her and paige both turned around to the sound of my annoyed voice.

you watched confusedly as kk let out an 'oh shit!", scrambling to grab her phone and tap the screen quickly. before you could question it, paige was walking towards you with a surprised expression.

"y/n?" paige questioned. "i thought you said you couldn't come over tonight?"

you smacked your teeth and shook your head at her. "i texted you saying nevermind. then, i showed up to your dorm but you weren't there and when i texted you again you never responded. where is your phone?"

"it died so i had it on the charger while kk and i went live…" paige scratched her head, glancing back at kk who was now sitting on ice's bed biting the inside of her cheek.

"oh shit, you were live? i thought you were making one of those stupid tiktok videos-- ice! why didn't you tell me?" you whacked the side of her leg as she yelled out dramatically.

you and paige haven't exactly made your relationship public yet and you literally avoided the girl as if she was the plague whenever one of the girls went live. it was honestly all your decision for it to be this way because you didn't want the media to focus on who paige was dating rather than her actual talent and love for her community. you also knew how many fans she had and you could only imagine what they would say about you if they had found out that you were dating the paige bueckers.

"hey, i tried to warn them!" ice defended herself, still trying to concentrate on her game.

"they probably screen recorded the live, too" kk added, looking back and forth between you and unbothered paige.

you groaned as paige wrapped her arms around you, resting her cheek on top of your head. "nah it's fine… you weren't in the camera anyway so they can speculate all they want about it."

laughing, you hugged her back. she had practice earlier tonight so she smelled like fresh clean clothes and the lavender soap she uses. you inhaled and relaxed against her body. "your fans aren't dumb, paige…"

paige pulled back a bit to look at your face. "i don't care. i'm tired of hiding you-"

"um, not to be rude, but can y'all do this lovey-dovey shit somewhere else…" kk feigned disgust and held her stomach as if she was sick.

paige rolled her eyes and you let out another laugh. you said goodbye to her two teammates as your girlfriend grabbed you by the hand and walked you out of the room.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #kk arnold #ice brady #amari deberry #aaliyah edwards #aubrey griffin

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 16 days

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5 times you and Miguel walked away from each other and 1 time you didn't

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader notes: brother'sbestfriend!Miguel, soccerplayer!Miguel, college au, slow burn, somewhat mutual pining but written from reader's perspective more exclusively, SFW - only slightly suggestive (worst thing is probably a boner), fem reader (pretty neutral though), saying soccer instead of football felt so dirty but oh well, thank you for reading!! word count: 5.9k

You’re having your first lazy day in forever. It’s the first day in recent memory that you didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. You’re just going to hang out in your apartment and watch your favorite shows or read for fun for once or whatever else you feel like doing. Because you don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even take a shower, opting to stay in your comfy pajamas, not bothering with any makeup or hair effort, as you lounge around.

You have the place to yourself now, but you share it with your twin brother Alex, the two of you lucky enough to go to the same university.

When you eventually hear his keys scratching at the door, you’re sprawled on the couch reading a novel you’d left half-finished for ages despite actually really enjoying it. School really had a way of making you not read. Or at least never full books.

As Alex opens the door, you’re surprised to hear him talking to someone else. You see his unexpected guest a moment later from your spot on the couch, your college apartment rather small after all. And you’re mortified. Miguel. Alex’s best friend, university soccer team superstar, ridiculously attractive Miguel.

God, why did Alex not warn you he was bringing someone over? All it took was a quick message, for fuck’s sake. And Miguel of all people? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like you could tell him. “Hey, brother dear, I have a huge crush on your best friend, so can I please get a warning next time he’ll be around? You know, especially so I’m not looking like a total mess when he shows up?”

He’d been coming over a lot recently actually. He and Alex were both on the soccer team and happened to share a few classes too, so their schedules really lined up. Usually, it was nice to get to see him. It’s not like either of them paid that much attention to you when they were hanging out, but Miguel was nice to look at. Even now, they seemed like they were coming back from a casual soccer match or something, and he still looked amazing. His thick, dark hair was messy in the way that made you want to run your hands through it; his t-shirt hugged his unreasonably broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and his sweatpants — fuck, his sweatpants — his ass looked miraculous as he turned to put his gym bag down.

Miguel’s looking at you as he and Alex step into the living room. “It’s Saturday, Y/N, and the weather’s finally fucking nice. Why’re you reading a book? You’re such a nerd,” Alex snaps as he plops onto the couch next you, pushing your legs off to make room.

“I’m a nerd because I’m reading a book? Am I am tomboy because I’m not wearing a dress, too, or are we keeping it to one stupid superficial stereotype?”

Miguel chuckles as he sits on Alex’s other side. “Cut him some slack, Y/N, he took a soccer ball to the head today. Might be making him even more of an idiot than usual.”

You can’t help but worry; you love the idiot after all.

“You okay? Was it bad?” you’re asking as you run your hand over his head looking for bumps. “I’m fine, mom,” he mocks, pushing you away. “And you? You asshole,” he accuses Miguel playfully. “‘Took a ball to the head’?” he repeats, then turning to you adds, “It was him that kicked it!” Miguel starts laughing.

“It was the perfect setup, man. Not my fault you were distracted.” “Whatever,” Alex says as he reaches for the video game remotes. Knowing them, it was time for FIFA.

You’re eager to hide with how you look right now anyway, so you get up to head into your room. “We didn’t mean to kick you out,” Miguel starts kindly. “ You don’t have to go; you were clearly comfortable here.” “Clearly comfortable”? God that sounded bad in your head. He was “super hot”; you were “clearly comfortable.”

“Thanks, Miguel. It’s fine. I was going to —“ but you don’t finish your excuse as you trip on the remote’s charging wire as you step across, falling unceremoniously to your face right in front of them.

“Mierda!” Miguel yells.

Alex immediately asks, “You okay?,” but it’s Miguel who’s up and over you in the same instant.

“You alright?” he asks softly as his hands grab your hips to help you up.

His hands on you were the last thing you needed right now. So much for composure. “Fine. Really,” you say, your breath shaky. You’re kneeling on your living room floor; Miguel’s squatting in front of you, close; his hands haven’t left your body even though you’re no longer prone. He just watches you closely, eyes beautiful and concerned. You stare back into them, and after a couple more shaky breaths finally manage to stand up and step away, looking anywhere but at him. “‘M fine,” you repeat. You turn away hurriedly and go the few steps to your room. Once safely behind closed doors, your face scrunches and your stomach sinks at the sheer embarrassment.

It’s been days since Miguel was at your apartment, and part of you is happy for the lack of pressure but another part of you still gets a funky feeling in her gut at the idea that the last memory of you he had was of a clumsy mess. He and Alex have a game today, and pretending to convince yourself that you just felt like it today, you make yourself up more than usual for it. You’re actually pretty happy with your look as you head out to meet some friends at the match.

They win. Miguel scores. Twice. Alex’s defense is probably the main reason for their clean sheet.

So, hyped up on adrenaline and victory, they’re laughing and messing around with their teammates as a bunch of people approach the sidelines to congratulate them. Alex spots you and makes a goofy face, always so playful when he’s happy. He jogs over to you and gives you a huge hug.

“Stop, you’re so sweaty!” you squeal. He just holds you tighter and rubs his sweaty hair on you, laughing. When he finally pulls away, Miguel is standing right next to him, smiling at the two of you. “Do I get a hug too?” he teases. “I scored two more goals than he did!”

You’re not sure if he’s kidding, and you’re sure the chuckle you give in response is somewhat tense.

But, stepping toward him, you just say, “Congratulations,” and wrap your arms around his shoulders without getting too close. Damn, they were like boulders. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and closes the distance you’d maintained, giving you a surprisingly intimate embrace. You’re struck by the feeling of him around you. He’s sweaty, too, and you can smell his musk, but instead of off-putting, you find it incredibly arousing. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing where your chest is flush with his. He’s so warm, and you just want to breathe him in and trace every ridge of his body. But the hug is already lingering too long to be normal, and you pull back a bit awkwardly. Miguel is still looking at you, a subtle smile on his face.

He seems about to say something when a high pitched squeal right next to you startles you.

“Miguel!” a very pretty girl yells at him as she approaches, unabashedly jumping onto his back. She’s in a cheer uniform. “Oh my god, you were so good!” Miguel’s so sturdy, her jumping on him didn’t throw him off physically, but his face looks a little flustered. “Uh, thanks,” he says politely, putting her down. She just giggles and grabs his arm as she compliments him again.

You feel so awkward watching this, so you just turn around and walk away. You don’t see Miguel looking after you.

You’re at the after party with a couple of your friends. The soccer team was quite popular, and the victory parties tended to be good. You’re mostly having fun, but you can’t help but keep looking over to where Miguel is. Man of the match and man with that face, he was obviously the center of attention. People were coming up to congratulate him left and right. He handled it all so graciously. It shocked you how there was no arrogance in his demeanor; he was just the easygoing life of the party.

You wanted to go talk to him too, but you’d already congratulated him and didn’t know what else you would say. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself again. You could go talk to your brother, who was right next to him, but he was busy flirting, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him.

A bunch of people are dancing in the open space between you and Miguel, and the chaos lets you sneak long looks at him without his noticing. But when your friend leans over and asks, “Who do you keep looking at?,” you realize you have to be less obvious. “No one, just curious who Alex is flirting with,” you lie, proud of how quick you were with it.

“You a jealous, protective sister type?” she laughs.

“No, just curious.” “Is he?” “What?” “Protective?”

“Um, sometimes, depends. Why?”

“Because that guy over there keeps checking you out.” She nods toward an okay-looking guy chatting with someone on the edge of the dance floor. A second later, he was indeed looking over at you. “You should go talk to him!” “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not so interested.” “Why not? He’s hot! I’m pretty sure he’s on the team too. You don’t have to marry him, Y/N, just go dance! You’ve been weirdly tense all night.”

You look over again, and your eyes meet. Before you can do anything else, he makes the decision for you, walking over to you.

“Hey.” “Um, hi.” You exchange names and pleasantries, and he asks you if you want to dance. Without thinking about it, you glance toward the person you really wish you were dancing with. To your surprise, Miguel is already looking toward you. He looks less happy than before. You look back at this guy quickly, hoping neither of them noticed.

You feel slightly bad thinking this, using this guy you weren’t super interested in, but you couldn’t help but feel it’d be nice if Miguel saw a side of you that might make him think of you differently, not just as Alex’s sister. It’s just a dance anyway, so, you accept the offer and head to the dance floor.

You fall into a rhythm with the music, with the guy. The dancing is fun; the guy is fine. Your back is to Miguel, and you can’t resist spinning to catch another glimpse, doing it seamlessly as you keep dancing. Your breath catches when your eyes meet his.

Miguel watching you from across the room is doing much more to turn you on than anything your current dance partner is doing, but you channel your new energy into your movements. It’s not a well thought out decision, though in the back of your mind you know who it’s for, but you start moving a bit more suggestively. You let your hips follow the music, let your hands come up to your hair as your body rolls rhythmically. Feeling especially bold, you even manage to meander closer to where Miguel is, giving him a better view.

Unbeknownst to you, this unfortunately also makes Alex, now unoccupied, notice you for the first time. You don’t hear him leaning over to Miguel and saying, “Gross. I hate seeing my sister with random guys. Let’s go get more drinks.” He drags him away, and Miguel, unable to come up with a good reason not to follow, does.

The next time you spin, all you catch is the backs of their heads.

The following week, you’re coming home from classes, and all you can think about is eating. You’d had to skip lunch to finish an assignment and couldn’t wait for dinner.

When you enter your apartment, you find Miguel sitting on your couch.

“Hey,” he greets. “Hi.” He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to you, and he adorably shifts over to make room, as if you couldn’t just go around. You weren’t planning on sitting anyway, but now that he’s wordlessly extended an invitation, you do. “Where’s Alex?”

“Went to take a shower. We’re gonna play a couple games when he’s done.” He gestures toward the video game console. “Are the remotes charged?” you joke. “I hear it’s a hazard to have the wires across the living room floor.” Miguel chuckles lightly at your self-deprecating humor. He’s turned toward you, sitting in the middle of the couch, his elbow on the backrest as he occasionally messes with his luscious hair. “I felt so bad that day. Taking over your space and tripping you. When you looked so peaceful when we got here.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you laugh, amused but also masking your stirring feelings at the fact that he had thought about it at all. “I was just a mess that day. And I wouldn’t call my pyjamas peaceful, just comfortable. In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I liked your pyjamas,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “What? I did! I’m all for comfy clothing; have you not noticed 90% of my wardrobe is gym clothes?”

“Yes, well, you can get away with it. You’re a guy, and you look like that,” you say, gesturing at his body before you really realize what you’re saying. You tense as soon as you do. It just slipped out, the conversation getting weirdly easy and comfortable with him. “Like what?” he asks, but he’s smirking, knowing what you meant. You just roll your eyes again. “No, c’mon, chula, like what?” He lifts his eyebrows in challenge, mirth in his eyes. You’re too busy reeling from the pet name to have mental energy to come up with a retort. You’re grateful for what would’ve otherwise been embarrassing: your stomach grumbling. Miguel looks at your stomach and giggles. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you say, taking the escape route and walking to the adjoining kitchen. He follows. “You can get away with it too, you know,” he says nonchalantly. You think you know what he means but look back at him questioningly. “The clothes. You always look good.”

You’re glad you’re not facing him, your expression probably revealing your excitement. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” He leans on your counter. “So what are you having?” “I don’t know, whatever we have. Haven’t had time to go to the store.” You’re rummaging through your cabinets. “I can make you something,” he offers. You stop and look at him. “What? I’m a great cook,” he shrugs defensively. “Have you never had my tamales?”

“It’s not about you being good or not,” you giggle. “There’s no reason you should have to cook when you’re just here to hang out.”

He just shrugs again, but there’s a tinge of shyness in his typically confident facade.

You turn to open your fridge, and he comes up right next to you. “Oh shit, you guys have jarritos. Can I steal one?”

“Yeah, of course,” you laugh. “Grab whatever you want.”

You didn’t think he would immediately… As you bend over to grab something from the drawers, Miguel reaches up to grab the soda, leaning forward. Both of you moving simultaneously, your ass presses firmly against his crotch. You both freeze in panic, prolonging the position, before you jump up at the accidental contact. His and your “sorry”’s and “I didn’t mean to”’s get jumbled together in the colossally awkward moment. Miguel looks down, then back up again looking startled. He scurries around to the other side of the counter, it now separating you. “Jesus, Miguel, I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to put a barricade between us; it’s not like I’m gonna jump you!” “No, no, it’s not that! Fuck, it’s, uh, fuck…” He looks lost for words. His hand comes to his face, covering it in resigned embarrassment. His voice is a mumble through his obstructing hand, “I’ve a bd’ve uh sitch-ation.”

“What?” He uncovers his face with an exasperated sigh. “I have… a bit of a… situation,” he whispers, looking down.

“Oh… oh!” you say, realization hitting you. Probably largely because of the awkward tension, at least partially at the idea of you giving Miguel O’Hara a boner, you start cracking up. He just stares at you, deadpan, his hands coming to his hips. “It’s not funny.” “It’s a little funny.” His glare cracks the tiniest bit.

“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But it’s your fault!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Alex asks nonchalantly, coming out of his room, lazily drying his hair.

“Nothing!” you and Miguel say simultaneously.

“Okay… should I just pretend that wasn’t really suspicious?”

“Yes,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being clumsy again.”

His eyes are still skeptical, but Alex just chuckles and nods, letting it go at the look on your face. He heads to the couch with an easy “C’mon, man” at Miguel. Miguel follows, giving you a sideways glance and tense smile. When he sits, he immediately puts a cushion on his lap. You grab the first thing that looks edible in your fridge and head to your room.

Two weekends later finds you at another soccer team party. They’d lost this time, 2-1. Miguel scored their sole goal, and the other team’s second had been a sketchy penalty. If the victory parties were good, the defeat ones were wild. Most of the players, Miguel and Alex among them, were drowning their sorrows, especially after such a disheartening defeat.

You weren’t a player, but you had your own sorrows to drown, and you weren’t stopping yourself from doing just that. You’d hardly seen Miguel in almost two weeks, and the few times you had, he’d been cold, keeping interactions mainly to greetings and goodbyes. You didn’t know if you’d done something wrong, if he was still caught up with your little awkward encounter, or if you were just making it up, your feelings for him needing some outlet. Making up stories by constantly obsessing about him was as good as outlet as you could get sometimes. Alcohol was a better one now.

A while into the party, you’re at the bar for your… you lost count… numberth tequila shot. You down it, lick the salt off your hand, and stick the lime in your mouth, cringing.

Your eyes are still closed when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open them and see Miguel standing beside you. “Maybe switch to water, huh, guapa?” he tells you.

“Why? M’fine,” you slur.

“Maybe, but you won’t be if you keep this pace up.” “And how would you know?”

“Just noticed,” he shrugs.

You squint your eyes accusingly at him. You didn’t know what you’d feel next time you talked to him, but you hadn’t expected to feel this angry.

“You notice me enough to watch how much I drink but not to say more than two words at a time to me for weeks?” He looks surprised. “Y/N…”

You cross your arms and lift your eyebrows in an implied “what?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you just walk past him. You end up walking through the dance floor, and though it wasn’t your plan, you kind of like moving to the music. You’re drunk enough to the lack the inhibitions to just dance alone. You’re enjoying yourself, not even bothering to look back and see if Miguel was still there. A bit later though, you startle as you feel a hand on your ass. You turn and find a random guy you’ve never met before, smiling at you disgustingly drunkenly. You’re taken aback, your mind already a bit slow from the alcohol, so you haven’t decided yet how to tell him to fuck off by the time Miguel is in front of you shoving him away. He’s not overly aggressive but, even drunk, easily moves the guy away from you with an angry “What the hell, man?”

The other guy looks seriously scared and just lifts his hands with a pathetic “sorry, Miguel.”

“Fucking better be, what the hell is wrong with you?” The other guy stumbles away. Miguel turns towards you, and his expression melts from frightening anger to warm concern in two seconds. “You okay?” he asks, his hands carefully grazing your shoulders. You nod and lean into him. At your seeming comfortable, he lets his arms come around you.

“Thanks,” you whisper in his ear.

“Of course,” he whispers in yours, and it sends a shiver down your entire body. You stare into his eyes, your hands resting on his chest.

“Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna dance with me?”

They don’t call it “liquid courage” for nothing.

Miguel considers you for a moment, but a soft smirk is whispered across is sharp features. He nods slowly, and his hands move slightly further down your back. You close your eyes at the sensation of his hands running along your body. You run your hands up his chest slowly and wrap your arms around his neck. When you open your eyes, you see his crimson ones boring into you.

You start moving a bit more as you focus on the music to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling. He follows your lead, and soon you’re dancing together much more easily. As a couple of songs go by, you’re both moving freely, staying close to each other the whole time.

You’re so exhilarated, and he seems as enveloped in you as you are in him, so the next time the beat calls for it, you let your body twist rhythmically in his grasp. Your back is now flush with his chest, your ass on his crotch, your hand reaching behind you on his neck, in his hair. His hands are firm on your hips, and when you roll them against him, you hear his whispered “Fuck, mami” in your ear and feel his arm come around your middle, pulling you into him. His hips move in rhythm with yours. You’ve probably never been so turned on in your entire life. You keep this up for a delicious while. You can feel Miguel is hard through his jeans, but he makes no sign of being embarrassed, just continuing to dance with you with expert hip movements that make your imagination go wild. Of course he’d be an amazing dancer. Of course you’d imagine what else his hips could do.

You twist back in his embrace, coming to face him. He holds you close, and you bring a hand to his face. He leans into your touch. You move your face up slightly, and he seems to be following, moving his down. You’re so close, even think you feel your lips graze his, when someone bumps up against you, making you stumble.

Miguel’s strong arms catch you, but the moment is gone, and a second later, he looks startled.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back a bit, speaking loudly to keep his distance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assure, but he seems off.

“Let’s get some air, huh?”

You follow him outside, the sudden change in ambience making your head spin a little. You lean against the wall, and he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” You nod but don’t say anything, maybe a bit drunker than you thought, trying to ground yourself. He leans on the wall next to you. His body is warm where it grazes your side. You can feel his gaze intermittently on you. You get a little dizzy again, and you lean onto his shoulder. He just lets you, and you stand like that for a while.

His fingers graze the back of your hand.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nod into his body. He wraps a firm arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the party.

You’re home before you know it, the whole journey a blur dominated by his warmth by your side. When you reach your front door, you lean on it and look up at him. His subtle smile elicits your full one. “Thanks,” you whisper. “’S no problem,” he shrugs. “You’ll be okay?” “Yeah,” you nod. You’re already sobering up. “You?”

He chuckles and nods.

“I wasn’t the one downing tequila shots like water,” he teases. Your cheeks warm, and you look down as you chuckle.

“Wasn’t that many…”

He laughs.

“It was, cariño.” Again with the pet names.

“I’m still surprised you noticed.” “I always notice you,” he responds without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to his, and you see the longing there.

You stare at each other for a heavy moment, then, drunk more on the sensations of your earlier almost-kiss than on alcohol, chasing that feeling, you lean up to try again. Your lips are a breath away from his when he looks down, effectively rejecting your advance. You pull away, mortified.

“Sorry, I… sorry,” you stutter as you scramble for your keys. You turn to your door. “Y/N,” he whispers, his hand holding your wrist softly. “It’s okay,” you say, looking back him, wiping tears from your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything; sorry I misunderstood.”

You quickly go inside and close the door. You lean on it, crying. Miguel, eyes closed, fists clenched, rests his forehead on the opposite side.

Miguel doesn’t come around for a while. Even as days pass, you can’t stop thinking about your night together. Confusion, sadness, embarrassment — all mixing together into a terrible cocktail.

Another match day rolls around, and you can’t stomach the idea of watching Miguel play, of potentially having to talk to him after. You tell Alex you’re really sorry to not support him this time, but that you’re not feeling well. He worries over you a while, unhelpfully but adorably emptying your medicine cabinet onto the kitchen counter, looking through stuff, suggesting this and that, telling you to text him anything you needed that he could bring you after.

A while later, you’ve just slumped down onto the couch, when your stomach sinks at the sight you’re met with. There, at the corner of the room, lie his cleats. He’d been cleaning them the night before and had clearly forgotten to put them back in his gym bag.

“Fuck.”

You lift yourself up, grab them, and head over to the stadium.

When you get there, you pound at the locker room door, and it opens — of course, you couldn’t catch a fucking break — to Miguel O’Hara’s gorgeous face. Though he looks at you intently, you can’t quite read his expression. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Ale!”

Alex jogs over and, upon seeing you, lets out the biggest sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank God. I fucking love you.” He reaches for the cleats you’re holding up to him and gives you a bear hug. “Saved my fucking life, Y/N/N. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “You don’t look as sick. You’ll be okay?” He’s clearly in a rush to get back but wants to make sure you’re alright.

You nod and playfully shove his chest, pushing him back into the locker room. “You’re the best!” he yells over his shoulder as he saunters back. Miguel is still just standing there, all geared up for the match. It crosses your sick mind how good the uniform looks on him.

“You’re sick?” he asks.

“Nothing I won’t get over.” You offer him a weak smile. He’s nodding slowly, considering.

“Stay for the match?”

“Miguel, I —“ “Please.” You’ve never heard him plead before. You’re head is nodding before your mind can catch up. He just nods too. “I’ll find you after.” And with that, he jogs back into the locker room.

You’d never known ninety minutes could drag on for eternity, with a half-time’s worth of eternity in between. You’re sure you’re heartbeat was elevated the entire time, your mind and emotions reeling. What was Miguel going to say to you after the match? You had absolutely no read on him during your short interaction before. Then again, apparently you weren’t always great at reading him.

Minute after minute trickles by. At the end of the second half, your team up a goal (yes, Miguel’s), the ref announces an unusually large number of minutes. You moan with everyone else, for your own reasons. What was a potential leveler compared to the leveling of your heart?

Slowly, the minutes pass. The other team builds a mounting attack; they get a good attempt; they miss. The whistle blows; the crowd cheers, and you, you’re frozen in place.

You thaw yourself slowly as the players shake hands, go to their respective huddles. By the time they’re roaming the sidelines freely, you’ve only just managed to leave your seat.

As you descend the bleachers stairs, you catch sight of Miguel. He’s obviously searching, halfheartedly ignoring the congratulations coming from all sides. His eyes eventually meet yours, and as soon as they do, he’s running over to you, meeting you much closer to the bleachers than the field.

He comes to a stop right in front of you and just watches you. You just watch him. “Congratulations,” you say. He chuckles, lightly shaking his head.

“Thanks.”

He takes a step closer to you. “Y/N…” “Yeah?” “I…” “Miguel!” you’re interrupted. “Congratulations! Way to pull it out!” “Thanks, yeah, thank you,” he says hurriedly, looking back over to you. “Listen, I just, I wanted to clear things up after how we left them.” You nod, worrying your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around you defensively.

“I didn’t want you to think that —“

“Congratulations, Miguel! Did it again, man!” And a slap on the back.

“Uh-huh, yeah, thank you,” Miguel responds, turning away, approaching rudeness. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, much more softly. “C’mere.” He grabs your arm and drags you around the bleachers, stopping when you have a semblance of cover. He’s looking around to make sure no one else is about to talk to him, and his worried looks right after he’s just won makes you laugh. The sound draws his attention fully back to you. He smiles at seeing you smiling.

“Where can a guy get a little privacy, huh?” he jokes. “Probably not still by the field where he just scored the winning goal, I’m guessing,” you tease. He chuckles. Then he takes a deep, sobering breath. “Listen, Y/N…”

His tone sounds apologetic, and it makes you immediately think the worst. He probably just didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Wanted to fix things so they wouldn’t be awkward if he hung around, which he’d obviously want to do given Alex was his best friend.

Already fighting back tears, wanting to beat him to the punch to save face in whatever way you could at this point, you cut him off. “Miguel, you don’t have to explain anything or anything. I’m sorry I made more out of a good time than I should have. Please don’t let me keep you from hanging out with my brother even if I’m around, and I hope we can still be friends.” “What? No, that’s not… This isn’t about Alex. I mean, well it is a little bit.” He’s looking unsure. “Just keep things how they were before. It’s all fine.” “Is that what you want?” He looks serious. “What do you mean?” “Is that what you want? To keep things how they were before? To still be friends?”

“I… well… it’s what you want, isn’t it?” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I tried to kiss you, and you pretty much said no to that. Twice.”

“I didn’t. Well, once, yeah I did, but it was only because I was worried you were too drunk. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And, also, maybe a little bit because I panicked, okay?” He sounds more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard him yet. “I was worried it’d be weird with Alex or that I’d fuck it up with you, and I just, I don’t know, I panicked. And the other time wasn’t my fault. I was going to kiss you if you hadn’t stumbled.” “Someone bumped into me!” “I’m not blaming you! I just, it just, it made me remember you were drunk, and I didn’t want to be like that idiot guy I’d had to push away a while earlier.” “You’re nothing like that guy,” you say sternly. “I…” He’s started to look frustrated, unable to find the words. He runs his hand over his face, takes another deep breath. “What if you try now?” “What?” “I don’t know how to tell you. So maybe I can just show you. Try again, and no one will bump into you. I won’t panic, and I won’t think of all the things that could go wrong. I’ll think of how I’ve been feeling since that night. Absolutely fucking miserable. It’s been eating away at me; all I could think about was making it right with you, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I should. But I can’t take it anymore, and if you feel the same way, then, fuck, let’s just stop getting in our own way.”

“Miguel…” “Yeah?” “That was pretty good for not knowing how to tell me.” Your face forms the slightest teasing smirk, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what he’s telling you. “Shut up and kiss me already,” he says, rolling his eyes, unable to help his bright smile, pulling your body to his and bringing his lips onto yours.

You pull him into you, reciprocating eagerly. He moans into your mouth, and you feel his towering body sink onto yours. His arms are tight around you, one hand cupping your head, bringing you close. His kiss is fervent, desperate but concentrated.

You run your hands in his hair, and he chuckles gruffly, the sound muffled by your chasing mouth. You lose yourself in his embrace. You grip him tightly, breaching into his mouth, wanting to kiss him as much as wanting to be kissed by him. You could feel the beginning of a beautiful push and pull as your mouths move together, your bodies mold into each other’s.

You want to kiss him forever, but some loud cheering nearby startles you slightly apart. Miguel is looking deeply into your eyes. He kisses you again, lets his forehead rest on yours when he pulls back. You’re smiling when you say, “You should probably get back. I’m sure people are looking for you.” He groans dramatically and hides in the crook of your neck. He kisses it before saying, “I just want to be with you.”

You giggle, nuzzling his face with yours, holding him close, your hand in his hair.

“Yeah, me too.” He hums into your neck. He plants another kiss there, and one on your cheek on his way up, as he lifts his head again. His rough hands caress your face tenderly.

“This is good,” he says simply. You laugh and nod. “Fuck ‘em. I’ll go over there at some point. Let’s just stay here a little while longer.”

“Okay,” you smile.

Miguel leans back into you, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #across the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #slow burn #mutual pining #bbf!miguel #soccerplayer!miguel

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kissitbttr · 1 month

Text

I SEE YOU (FIRST TIME IS A CHARM)

a/n: a simple first date of frat!miguel and cheerleader!reader after the party

warnings; tiny angst but then turned to comfort<3

—

miguel sometimes think it would be good if he occasionally pinches himself in the arm. or glen could do it if he wanted to since he’s got quite a grip. enough to make sure he’s not living the dream.

for example, finally scoring a chance to take you out after months of pining on you? not getting rejected by his long time crush?! scratch pinching, somebody slap the dog shit out of him and tell him that this is real,

he had texted beck prior the date that he needed his right hand man to keep tabs on everything at the party. and being the good best friend that he is, beck congratulated him for finally having the balls to actually do it,

beck: so i guess that means we don’t have to hear about you moaning her name again during sleep?

miguel: shut the fuck up, kingsley. do as what you’re told.

beck: aye aye buddy

“so uh.. are you hungry? we could grab something to eat if you want to” he asked you while looking over to the passengers seat

“starving, actually” you replied with a giggle, and he felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. “got any recommendations, o’hara?”

but for a guy who knows his ways around women, he sure is nervous when it comes to you. and fuck, he cursed himself for being like this. he wanted to look cool in front of you, not stupid. what is wrong with him?!

“well we can have something off the diner on 13th street. that’s twenty minutes from campus, though. sushi stop, i know one where they serve the best sashimi. and kebab food truck but i don’t think you-“

“a kebab?!” a gasp fell from your mouth, eyes widening at the sound of middle eastern delicacy. “yes. no doubt. i want it. let’s punch it!”

he swore he’s not the type who falls in love quickly. but the way your eyes twinkle in excitement when he mentioned about kebabs,

he might just have,

he smiled at you before putting his focus back on the road. “kebab food truck it is”

one thing that miguel had forgotten to mention, is that food trucks don’t have tables and chairs. so people either eat them while standing up or inside their cars,

he didn’t want to trouble you at all, because looking at you right now, in a very pretty dress and heels, he doubt. that you actually wanted to eat while standing up,

“i’m so sorry, muñeca. i forgot to say something about this” he scratched the back of his head. eyes looking through the window where the kebab truck is at,

with a shrug you shot him a reassuring smile. “i don’t mind standing up while eating if that’s what you worried about”

he shook his head. “i mind actually. can’t let you eat and get tired while standing. how about we’ll eat in my car and i’ll go order something for you, si? what do you prefer? i swear if it you say vegan, i will leave you”

you laughed at that comment, “no of course not. i’ll get the chicken one, medium sized. and a cold water”

he pulled out his cash from the back pocket, smiling at you. “be right back”

there was definitely something different about him. a good different. one of them was how miguel is not how the people at campus had painted him to be. could be too soon for that conclusion but throughout the car ride, you were extremely sure that miguel is not a jackass.

instead, he had asked about which songs you wanted him to play in his car. whether or not if you’re comfortable and constantly saying sorry if he overstepped. it all seemed so sweet to you,

your friends would probably give you a weird look praising such simple things. the bare minimum. but these days, those ‘bare minimums’ are hard to pluck from a decent person, correct? nothing’s wrong with praising them anyway.

he knocked on the window, pulling you out of the train thoughts, in which you then rolled it down. “here you go, muñeca. the man assumed that it was for me so he put a lot of chicken there, so-“

“it’s fine. i said i was starving anyway” you took it from his hand, the smell of the delicious meal was making your mouth water.

miguel had himself crouched down to your eye level, thumb pointing over his shoulder. “so. standing up? or my car?”

you thought for a while, then an idea came into your mind with a pretty smile. “got a better one”

miguel frowned in confusion at that, watching you opening the door before walking out of the vehicle. and that’s when you and him standing almost chest to chest, unintentionally.

the moment he looked at you, his mind immediately went blank. in that exact moment, he thought that if it was possible to put charges on someone for how they stare with their eyes, yours would be number one.

because it felt like he was getting hypnotized by your beautiful irises and that there’s no turning back for him. he would volunteer to drown himself in them if it means he gets to see those eyes forever,

“—way nicer”

he blinked. mentally slapping himself in the forehead because he had just realized he wasn’t listening to you at all, too busy day dreaming about your gaze.

“i’m sorry, w-what were you saying?”

an amused smile made it towards your lips, “i said, we could sit by the pavement here. it’s way nicer. we could act like one of those drunk people after night out.”

“but we’re not drunk, muñeca”

“i said act, miguel” you reply in a duh tone, closing the door behind before guiding him to one of the empty ones where it’s not taken, “see? this one’s good spot”

one thing he noticed, you were wearing a pretty dress. “wait!” miguel then rushed towards the back of his car to grab a jacket before going back to you and laying it down on the asphalt. “there. now you can sit”

that one made your heart flutter, eyes moved up to him. “miguel you can’t just do that. your jacket will get dirty”

“I don’t mind. they made washing machine for a reason. i wasn’t going to let your dress get dirty anyway. the color is too pretty” he smiled, finally taking a seat on the rough surface with you following his actions after,

it was quite a cold night, and you regret not bringing a jacket along with you. what even was this weather? sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s rainy and sometimes you couldn’t even fucking predict it,

you tried not to let the chills get to you, because it seemed like miguel wasn’t really bothered by it. this man had his whole arms out in a muscle tank and he sat still like it was nothing,

“this is the best kebab i have ever tasted” you moaned with your eyes close on you had the first bite, chewing on the sweet delish,

miguel tried not to let his mind wander when he saw you doing that. “you like it?”

“like?! i love it! miguel this is amazing!” eyes turning into hearts when you gaze the food upon your hands, “how did you find this perfect place?”

“me and the guys often tried to find new places to eat other than burgers and hot dogs after parties and football practice” he settled his legs down, crossing them. “saw this truck while passing by and decided to give it a go”

you hummed. “do you do that a lot?”

“do what a lot?”

“partying” you took another bite, looking over at him as he raised his brows at the question,

“w-well” he chuckled nervously, thinking of a better way to answer. “if i’m being honest, i don’t enjoy it… as much as i did before”

“really?”

“yeah. it was fun at first. partying, getting shit faced… feels lame now. also, probably because now i think of alcohol are just empty calories”

“is that why you wanted to take me out? so you didn’t have a reason to stay there?”

his eyes turned wide, shaking his head in panic mode. “what? no! no of course not! i wanted to! i mean—it just felt like it was the perfect timing! and i— I—so—didn’t i tell you i have a crush on you?!”

with that, you laughed. placing a hand over his knee. “just joking, miguel”

oh fuck you’re touching him.

‘keep it cool, miguel’ he thought,

“oh-oh right, right. sorry” he replied, clearing his throat. still feeling nervous. “you know, i rarely see you at our weekly parties. only gloria and some of your friends.” he pointed out. wiping some of the sauce from the corner of his lips,

you answered. “not really my scene”

“you don’t like parties?”

“not really. i prefer when it’s just a few people that i know. not a whole campus. i like it better when it’s intimate”

“why is that?” he couldn’t help but ask,

“so i can hear people better when they talk. i love having a conversation”. it’s simple really. and it’s true.

you haven’t gone out to wild parties or clubs in a while, and it was safe to say that your life is truly at peace now. not saying that you would turn down any offer to go to one, but you just don’t do it as often,

waste of money and energy. simple things like sleeping before eleven, waking up early, getting your work done and having walks or working out regularly have been your main priorities now,

“ah, i see” he nodded at that, a smile appeared on his face. “intimate party yeah? i keep that in mind”

you raised one of your brows. “you don’t have to just because i said so, miguel”

he shrugged, taking another bite of his food “if that’s what i have to do just so i could see you around more often”

his response completely took you by surprise. and you had no clue what to say to that. fluttered? sure, that’s why you tried to suppress the smile on your face by looking away. you were quite thankful that it was dark out. that way, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush prominent on your cheeks.

the two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a while. devouring the perfect late night meal while watching the cars go by, accompanied by mindless chatters from left to right,

it did come to a surprise that you and miguel have a lot more in common than you think. something that you didn’t see coming. hell, you didn’t even think that you would actually converse with the head of a fraternity and captain of a football team.

a person whom you always try to avoid ever since freshmen year.

“another thing—why haven’t i seen you in lots of my games?”

“miguel, i come to your games. i’m the cheerleader for crying out loud”

“what i meant was why have you never stick around? you do your part and then poof! you’re gone”

raising an eyebrow, you eye him. “are you stalking me now?” he laughs at the accusation, but it’s not entirely false. “i have no reason to stay, why would i stick around?”

“not even for me?” he fakes a dramatic gasp, hand over his chest as if he’s actually hurt. “that pains me, muñeca”

“you’re getting way ahead of yourself, o’hara” you reply with an eye roll but smile anyway,

miguel then looks at the road, shaking his head. “unbelievable. and here i thought about handing you my jersey for you to wear next at our championship game”

and man, did your heart somehow stop for a second there.

because miguel o’hara do not give away his jersey numbers. not the real one nor the merch ones.

“you’re joking?”

“why would i be?” miguel turned his head at you, finding it is much better to look at you rather than the busy road ahead of him,

shrugging, you looked down at your open kebab. “people talk about how your jerseys are off limits. you don’t give away those numbers for anyone”

“well” he breathed out, chewing his lower lip while fiddling with his fingers. “you’re not just anyone to me”

a breath hitched on your throat when his ruby eyes met with your pretty ones once more. and he made a mental note on how your smile deflated in seconds after he said that,

and fuck fuck fuck, he didn’t mean to make you feel weird or uncomfortable. it was the last thing he wanted to do. because he did feel like he was confessing too much to you that night.

but what could he have done?! he likes you and you make him nervous. put the two and two together, and miguel would sputter bunch of shit from his mouth without actually thinking,

“shit” he shook his head, looking away from embarrassment. “i didn’t—I didn’t mean to say that— i mean, i did but—sorry if it made you feel weird. that was too straight forward”

you couldn’t lie, it was rather entertaining to see the captain of a football team and the so called ‘player of campus’ stumble upon his words like that. usually, you would simply roll your eyes and brushed every single guy who had said that to you. because you knew all they wanted to do was to get into your pants,

however miguel looked genuine. and by how fast his cheeks were warming to the color of crimson red or how he scratched the tip of his ears was pretty explanatory,

he wasn’t trying to get into your pants,

instead of giving him a dirty look, you just smiled shyly at him who looked down on his lap. probably re-thinking about his life choices.

“that’s cute” you managed to mumble, scooting a bit closer to his body. putting the half of kebab down beside you. “you actually like me, huh?”

he scoffed at the silly thought, as if the answer to that question had already been written well enough. “i really like you” he confessed, craning his head towards you and he almost passed out on how close you were to him. “makes me go crazy every time i see you, muñeca—i counted the times that you looked at me for just one split second and i died on days that you didn’t”

the way he spoke so carefully and lovingly with you was truly something you had longed from someone. took you by surprise just how much it meant to him for something so simple like wanting you to look at him for once,

one that you didn’t expect miguel o’hara would have said,

“yeah?” and this time, your voice wavered a little. almost like he made his mission accomplished by making you nervous too. “have you been gawking at me then?”

“god you made it sound like i’m a creep” he shook his head out of embarrassment making you laugh. “not gawk—just simply admiring you from afar—during class and your cheerleading practice. but it’s not a weird ass admiring or something like that. hope that’s okay”

it was. indeed it was.

because before this happened, you always assumed that miguel was the typical jock that romcoms have always shown. heartless, player, annoying, screw ups, and the list goes on.

but fuck was he different.

“more than okay” you responded rather quietly, letting your shoulder touched with his and it made miguel’s eyebrows quirk upwards,

and the moment miguel let his eyes looked into yours for more than twenty seconds, he knew for the second time that night—he was in. hooked line and sinker.

you pulled him in deeper than anyone had ever did without you even realizing. he hadn’t even shared a three hour conversation with you. this is the longest he had spoken with the girl he had a crush on,

miguel gulped by the sight of your pretty lips and doe eyes looking up at him. the innocence twinkled within your gaze and he had to refrain himself from kissing you out in the street,

it was one of the hardest thing he had to do that night,

“i just wanted you to give me a chance” he admitted, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at you. “to look at me as me—not as someone who people had spread rumors about on campus—because i’m not that— i don’t sleep around, i promise I don’t”

it was a weird feeling on how your heart broke a little by how defeated he sounded at the moment. his eyes were soften, voice turned small. he was begging silently for you to look past the ‘playboy miguel’ talk from the people that barely even knows him,

he didn’t care if others don’t believe him but he cared if you did.

that’s the only approval he needed,

“i want you to see me” he shyly continued when you chose not to say anything, only looking at him with your widening eyes. “that’s all”

trust has always been something you struggle with from time to time. because it’s easier said than done.

relationships are indeed not your strongest virtue. you shared some in the past but not all of it were pretty except for one. and you haven’t even heard about that person in a long time but you did wish he was okay.

it is unbelievably difficult to put your heart upon someone else’s hands and asking them to take care of it knowing how easy it would be for them to break it along the way,

which was the reason why you avoided miguel in the first place,

to say you hate him with all of your guts and soul would probably be too much. you wouldn’t go that far. you hardly know the man.

but you were persuaded by the gossips and girl talk scattered throughout campus. how he used girls for sex, only to dump them the next day. despite gloria telling you the opposite, you refused to believe her. you were solemnly only trying to protect yourself.

yet only now the guilt was eating you alive. why didn’t you even try to find out for yourself instead of listening to a gang of plastics who love to start off disgusting rumors about others?

looking at him now just made your heart clenched and for your head tilt to the side, just so you can look at him a bit better. you wanted to look at his eyes. you wanted him to not avoid your gaze because you understood now,

more clearer than ever.

“i do. i see you, miguel” you placed a hand on top of his, gently rubbing the skin until his ruby eyes turned to you at the sudden affection,

miguel’s heart almost did a somersault at your smile. even more to the words you had chosen to say next,

“i see you, baby”

—

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! it would make my day:)

#frat!miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #short one i know but i have no idea what to put in more lol

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lovelytsunoda · 7 months

Text

954 // logan sargeant

summary: florida man fucks shy college girl. or, back home in fort lauderdale y/n’s welcome home party is sabotaged by her race winner brother, and it gives her a bit of a complex. at least her brothers best friend is there to make her feel better about it.

pairing: logan sargeant x female kirkwood! reader

warnings: straight up smut, kyle kirkwood is a lot to handle in large doses (but we love him anyways), feelings of anxiety, minor sibling rivalry, body image issues. i am going to hell, littered with spelling mistakes because of how fast I was typing and pure laziness to go back and fix it

author's note: 954 is the area code for fort lauderdale. and technically kyle kirkwood lives in jupiter, but for the sake of the story let's pretend he's also from lauderdale.

she sat at the edge of the pier, jeans rolled up past her shins as she started off into the horizon, watching the sun dip below the ocean line.

“it’s your party, what are you doing out here alone?”

she rolled her eyes, pulling her feet out of the water before following the voice. “why do you think? kyle hijacked it. I’m back home for less than a day and he’s already stealing the spotlight again.”

that was the way it always went in the kirkwood household: y/n came home from school, and everything was great, and then kyle waltzes in and suddenly everything is about him again.

logan shook his head, settling onto the pier next to her, a gentle hand resting on her thigh. she shrugged it off, anxiously twisting one of the rings on her hand.

“you know he doesn’t do it on purpose, right?” logan soothed “he loves you, and he hates that you feel like this.”

“i know. the inferiority complex is all me.”

“it’s not a complex, and your feelings are valid.”

she shook her head. “everyone tells me i shouldn’t have quit karting. even when it made me hate myself.”

she sighed, laying down on the pier, worn wood scratching at her skin, but not splintering against her baby pink tank top. “what am I doing with my life, logan?”

“hey, look at me.” logan encouraged, fingertips against her chin to angle her face towards him. “you are doing great things. deans list every semester, you’re a great artist and I’d be shocked if firms weren’t lining up to hire you as a litigator.”

“you’re just saying that.” she refused to meet his eyes. logan was kyles best friend, for god sakes. she’d crumble under his stare, his touch.

“but I’m not.” logan insisted, gripping her face now, making her look at him. she needed to know how wonderful she was, and he was going to be the one to tel her. “you are smart and funny and all kinds of wonderful, kirkwood. any guy would be lucky to have you, and anyone else should consider themselves blessed to have you as a friend.”

“you really mean that?”

“why would I lie to you, y/n?”

she barely had time to respond before logans lips were on hers. she was hesitant at first, unsure if logan really knew what he was doing. unsure if he was really kissing her because he wanted to or because he pitied her.

the intrusive thoughts didn’t stay long, however, as she snapped to attention and moved her lips against his, wrapping her body around his.

“jesus.” logan breathed. “those jeans make your ass look incredible. well, your ass always looks incredible, but these jeans are really doing it for me.”

she laughed at how red logan's face was, a shade that looked more salmon under the sunset. the pier was digging into her skin, and she was starting to get uncomfortable, logan's lips along her neck not quite enough to distract from the discomfort of what she was sure would become a splinter if their activities were not relocated.

somehow they made it to her bedroom without being discovered by the partygoers, much less kyle. the fairy lights tacked to her dusty pink walls were the only light in the room as logan backed her up against her bookshelf, securely caging her body against his.

she felt safe in logan's arms. protected.

"i've been crazy about you for years now." logan growled in between kisses. "every night i came over to watch panthers games with your brother, and you were there in those tight little jean shorts, laughing and giggling with your friends. or when i'd stay the night and you'd walk past his bedroom door to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night, your skimpy silk top falling down your shoulder just enough to give me a taste of your gorgeous body. do you know how many times i've jerked off to the thought of you in kyle's bathroom? you're stunning, y/n. don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

her mind was reeling, and she couldn't find the proper words as she tugged at the collar of logan's button down shirt, pressing her lips back to his. logan sargeant was interested in her.

logan saw her for her, not just as kyle kirkwood's baby sister.

clothes were shed, buttons ripped off shirts. her head was spinning, elated and giddy and she couldn't find the words to tell logan how incredible she felt as his large hands squeezed her breasts over the mesh padding of her bralette.

she gasped, logan taking that chance to slip his tongue into her mouth, his fingers grappling for the clasp on her bra.

all at once, reality came crashing back down on her. she pulled away, hands flying up to cover her exposed breasts as the pale fabric tumbled to the hardwood floor.

she wouldn't meet logan's eyes, scared to know what he thought of her naked body. scared to see him stare at her and not know what he was thinking.

his eyes softened, the lust drawing back as concern seeped in to his irises. "y/n, pretty girl, you don't need to hide yourself around me. who made you think that you weren't sexy as all hell? i never want you feel like you have to be shy around me."

he gently gripped her arms, guiding her towards the wall length mirror hanging on the back of the ensuite door. logan stood behind her, lifting her chin so that she would meet his eyes in the mirror. placing his hands over hers, he gently pulled her palms off her breasts, exposing her bare torso to the soft lighting in the room.

"look at you beautiful you are, y/n. i'm serious."

"you're just saying that so you can get your dick wet." even as she said it, she knew it didn't sound like she meant it.

but even still, staring at herself in the mirror, all she could focus on was the way that she looked: the stretch marks on her breasts, the smattering of freckles up her arms (or were they moles, like the two on her back?).

"what will it take to show you how sexy you are, y/n?" logan rasped, undoing the button on her jeans. "should i make you watch yourself as i touch you?"

"yeah." her voice was shaky. "i think you should show me how sexy i am. clearly, i need reminding." where was this sudden boldness coming from?

"that;s my sexy, shy girl." logan cooed, tugging her jeans down her legs, kissing over her ass and down her leg before coming back up, eyes hungry at the sight of the young woman in front of him, panties hiked high on her hips and fairly see through as he slipped a hand over teh fabric and between her legs, teasing at the dampness beginning to form.

she gasped as logan slicked up his fingers, slipping them inside of her in one swift movement, working around the fabric of her cheeky panties. she was breathing hard, biting her bottom lip as she took in the sight in the mirror: logan's fingers flexing in and out of her, arousal running over his pale skin, his face contorted in concentration as he growled down her ear, telling her how tight she felt, and how good she was for him.

her own skin was rosy and flushed, a sheen of sweat beginning ro form as she felt her body heating up. there was something sinful about watching herself in the mirror, finally allowing herself to let loose a moan.

"that's my girl. don't get shy on me now, i want to know that you feel as good as i do." logan groaned, sucking on her neck. "touch me, baby. i know you want to. feel how fucking hard i am for you."

she loosened her grip on logan's wrist, internally grinning at the nail marks that she left behind in his skin before slipping an arm behind her, cupping his bulge in her hand.

she was floored. she knew logan was big (she could always see the outline in his swim shorts, forcing herself to stop staring before he noticed) but knowing that she had this effect on him?

it was a powerful thing.

"jesus, logan." she whined. "i need it inside of me."

logan's eyes sparkled. "what do you need inside of you, sweetheart? i need you to say it for me." he started pumping his fingers faster, his other hand moving to fondle her left breast, tweaking the rosy bud of her nipple between his fingers.

she sighed heavily, feeling her legs turn mushy as she leaned back against logan. "need your cock." she mumbled, unsure if she could speak any louder.

"what was that, darling? don't be shy now, i can't give you what you need if you don't tell me, love."

fuck you, she thought, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. she was clenching around his fingers now, unsure of hoe much longer she'd be able to last. but she needed him inside of her, felt like she might die if he wasn't.

"your cock!" she shouted. "please, logan, i need your big cock inside me, please, god, i need it."

why did she say that? she should never have said that. it made her sound desperate. but in a way, she was desperate, wasn't she?

logans fingers stopped their ministrations, pulling out of her and taking a trail of her juices with them. she thought her eyes were going to roll back in her head before logan laid her down on her queen bed, her hair fanning out behind her as he started to undo his jeans, resort shirt still hanging off his frame, face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat as he licked her arousal off his fingers.

"do you have condoms, kirkwood? because i really don't want to have to go digging for them in kyle's room."

"please don't talk about my brother when i want you to fuck my brains out."

logan smirked. "not so shy now, are we, my sexy girl."

"shut up! go the ensuite, top vanity drawer on the left. you literally cannot miss the box."

she could have laughed, lying back on the bed and kicking off her panties as logan ran, half naked and dropping his resort shirt behind him, to the ensuite.

he stumbled back, tripping over discarded clothes and the fluffy carpet, triumphantly holding the box above his head.

"the whole box? how much do you think you're getting tonight, sarge?"

logan raised an eyebrow. "call me that, and i'm going to make you forget how shy you are and have you scream my name all night long."

#logan sargeant x reader #formula one x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #logan sargeant smut

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

Text

Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, namecalling, typical Dean and reader

Word Count: 8289

A/N: Hi guys. I've been overwhelmed with love these past few weeks. Just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. You guys are fucking awesome; I'm so grateful. I hope y'all enjoy this week's episode! Asks/requests/taglists are open!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber.

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam.

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand.

Sam sat on the chair across from you. “Still haven’t warmed up to Dean, huh?”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to me,” you reminded him, thinking of the fight you got into yesterday over his reckless driving.

“Guess that’s true,” he conceded. “It’s weird, though, you guys are so much more alike than you let on.”

“Tell that to him. He started it.” You took a big bite of your pastry.

“Seriously?” Sam laughed, “ ‘He started it’?”

You shrugged, smirking.

He seemed to remember his original intention behind disturbing your slumber. “Hey, he found a case, though.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?” You licked the pastry cream off your thumb.

“We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.” Sam raised his coffee cup to his lips.

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah—” you nodded, “—gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded.

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts and people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” He’d turned to Sam.

“Yeah, I was. I'm— taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” Knowing what you knew about Sam’s relationship with his dad, you found this surprising, too.

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied.

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and— what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?” Jerry asked.

“Oh, uh—” you began, searching for an abridged version of the truth, “—I met them on a hunt in California. They decided to drag me along with them.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry said.

“Why?”

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—” the recording cut out with a static sound, “—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message—” and cut out again, “—May be experiencing some mechanical failure—” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“Alright,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… guys— and gal— the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head.

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“ ’No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?”

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation. “Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied.

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden.

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered.

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I— I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was… delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up.

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was… this—man. And, uh, he had these… eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. ‘Black eyes’ points me to demon.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house.

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair.

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a dentist?” Dean questioned.

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

You could tell Sam was contemplating how to ask his next question. “In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him; anything out of the ordinary?”

She paused for a moment. “Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house.

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re annoying,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic dick that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded.

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you.

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him.

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you’re any better.”

“Guys—” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away.

“Just drive, asshole,” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat. The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident. Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean.

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the black color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good.

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you.

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.”

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. You almost lost your breath at the sight of Dean, but fought yourself to keep your composure. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing you found him attractive.

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

You steeled your nerves as your black, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is; I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“ 'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped.

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

You once again fought the pain in your chest when he called you a bitch. In all honesty, you thought his homemade EMF meter was cute. However, you were too far gone in your war with him to surrender now.

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with black spores and yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam.

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag.

“We need to go,” you told the boys. You weren’t sure what told you that, but you just suddenly felt unsettled. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention, and every muscle in your body tensed. You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse.

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building.

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit.

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace.

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My intuition’s just always been pretty sharp.” You were being honest; there had been a few times on hunts previously when you’d known it was time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Hm.” You could tell Dean still didn’t trust you.

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s the truth,” you countered. “I’ve been helping you guys with your dad for almost two months now, and you still don’t trust me. I don’t know what more to do for you.”

“Maybe because I don’t know you,” he responded, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Maybe if you tried to know me, you’d find it a little easier to trust me,” you answered.

“Not interested,” came Dean’s grumbled response.

You tried your best to ignore the pang that went through your chest once more. “Of course not.”

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean; your frustration with the fact that he had no desire to know you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place.

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed.

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sitting in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?”

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you said simply.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was probably the toughest case I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently.

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease—”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him. “Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done.”

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry… Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?... I'll try to ignore the irony in that… Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone.

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.”

‘Ah, there’s the irony.’

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of Chuck’s plane was, in fact, sulfur.

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“ ‘No survivors,’ “ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway.

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother.

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean grumbled.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas.

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven.

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?”

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too. “I feel naked.”

You fought the smile threatening to creep up your face.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment. “We need to find a phone.”

He found a courtesy phonw on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen… I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um… flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here… Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well… there must be some mistake—”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen.

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged… He's really sorry… Yeah, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so—... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic… Oh, yeah… No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.” He looked conflicted.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

Dean hesitated. “No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” Sam huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” he spat.

For the first time since you met him, you didn’t feel like mocking him about his fear of planes.

“Okay, then (Y/N) and I’ll go,” Sam proposed.

Dean shook his head. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

Dean scratched his head. “Come on! Really? Man...”

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, please?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him. You truly weren’t.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.” His attitude was truly exhausting.

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.”

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat between Sam and Dean, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered from the window seat

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded playfully.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.

You gathered your courage and grabbed his hand. He jerked away from you and looked at you in surprise. When the plane took off, though, his hand rejoined yours, squeezing tightly. You giggled to yourself.

“I’m so glad this is funny to you,” Dean hissed.

“It’s not,” you answered simply.

“Then why are you laughing?” His grip tightened once again.

“It’s just,” you considered your next words carefully. “It’s kind of cute, that’s all.”

Dean was caught off-guard by your response. He eyed you quizzically, unsure of what to say. You just shrugged, settling the back of your head against your seat with your hand still in Dean’s. It was much larger than yours, and you fought the urge to run your fingers along the calloused ridges.

Moments passed in a bit of an uncomfortable silence before Dean spoke again, not a trace of bite in his tone. “Why are you doing this?”

You rolled your head toward him. “Everybody’s scared of something,” you quietly replied. “It helps me to know I’m helping you. Even if you do hate my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts.” He spoke so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Pfft, could’ve fooled me,” you answered.

“You just…” he started, “...get on my nerves. ‘S all.”

You giggled.

A few minutes later when the plane had fully gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from the man next to you.

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied.

“ ‘Some Kind of Monster’? Really?“ You raised a brow at him.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.”

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?”

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water—” you leaned forward, gently taking the bottle, “—And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied, getting up from his chair. You could tell he had not. You already missed the feeling of his hand in yours.

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was back.

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“ ‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane.

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before the older brother returned.

“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. He grabbed your hand once more. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just turbulence,” you coaxed.

“Sweetheart, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four.” He went to drop your hand, but you tightened your grip.

“Okay,” you started, changing tactics. Your tone became harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I can't,” Dean sassed.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

You smiled. “Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?” He was starting to get panicky again.

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“ 'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“There ya go,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.”

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked.

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam. “We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually—” Dean began, “—that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry—” she started, attempting to move past you, “I— I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

“Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—” You could practically see her mind running a mile a minute.

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Babe, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

A few moments later, you heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

Amanda’s breath quickened. “Well, I don't underst— I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam. “I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal.

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area.

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane.

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual and trying to comfort him after what the demon had said. When you had made your way back to your seats, a slight rumble went through the aircraft. Dean grabbed your hand once again, and kept it there for the rest of the flight. A small smile tugged at your lips.

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between them.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah.” The brunet didn’t sound convinced.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report. Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse.

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man.

“You know, Jerry—" he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys— and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. “This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him. You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother. You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head.

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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luxthestrange · 8 months

Text

OP Incorrect quotes#7 Buggy's love life

Dragon!Y/n: Anyway im here with my crew to rest for a week

Buggy: A WHAT?! No, no, you are NOT STAYING here for a fuckin' week!

Dragon!Y/n*removes some hair out face and leans down/up to his height mockingly* Awww, you mad, Buggy Wuggy?~ You gonna run off, leaving someone else to pay for the hotel room, steal their boat and run…

Dragon!Y/n and Buggy: …run off to another island and max MY credit cards on shitty horse riding lessons?!

Buggy: Goddamn it whore, you will NOT let that go!?

Dragon!Y/n: Choke on a sandpaper cock

You flip the bird and walks away while Most of the Buggy Pirates fearfully lowers their head behind Alvida

Buggy*Following behind you stomping angrily*HOLD ON! You better move that tackyship of your right now back to the ocean, or I’m gonna…

Dragon!Y/n*Turns around growling* You'll what?

Buggy*glances around and stutters in fear* Or I'll… uh… uh, I- I'll call HR!

After a second of awkward silence, Buggy and You laugh as if in a sitcom...freaking the buggy crew by the shift between you two

Dragon!Y/n: Anyway, I have to meet with my new crewmates, Unlike you, they actually do their job well

You leave, but as you glances over your shoulder as you flips Buggy

Dragon!Y/n*looking back* Ta ta, fuck stain~

Buggy: Ugh, I wasted so much time with a bag of holes like that...

Alvida*Goes and shakes Buggy's shoulders* You know Y/n Draconic?!

Buggy: Huh...? Oh, yeah. them?, yeah... We dated

Mr 3: Was it before or after you left..you and Shanks?...

-Somewhere in the sea-

Shanks*Looking at a locket of younger buggy and Y/n*A-achooo!?...???..someone must be talking about me?

Alvida*Still in shock at the reveal* You dated THAT BEAUTIFUL PERSON?!

Buggy: Okay, why are you all acting like that’s such a shock?

Mr 3: Hellooo, it’s Y/n?...Even boss tried it with them

Cabajil: It's you?

Alvida: I just… *scratches her head* are they blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?

Buggy: Okay, look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be! I don’t pry into your stupid personal lives!

Alvida: You do that all the time!

Cabaji: Come on, you kinda do that...

Mr 3: You totally do that

Alvida grins mischievously, eyelids lowering

Alvida: What was sex with them like?~

Cabaji*taken aback* Alvida!

Alvida: Whaaaat?! They're a straw hat! You’d wanna know what sex with-*Moves his eyes to point at to a green moss on top of a rock with a knowing gaze*-was like!

Cabaji*about to scold her but changes his mind* …Touché

Part 2 of:

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kidney9-9 · 5 months

Text

Mixing Things Up - Yamada Hizashi

Hi hope you enjoy :) thank you! I'll be back pretty soon I hope. Also lmao I have no idea if his quirk would be able to do this but I'm pretending it does. Requests are open

Hizashi x Reader [Smut] Warnings: Smut, face sitting, cursing Word Count: 1.4k

Hizashi answered the call for his radio show, not thinking their question would be something so inappropriate for a live show. “Hello, you’re now on with Present Mic, Yugo. What’s your question for the day?” Hizashi asked, drumming his fingers against his desk.

The person on the other line stumbled over their words, “Uh, hi! So, my girlfriend and I wanted to mix things up a bit by using our quirks – if you know what I mean.”

Hizashi scrunched his nose up in confusion, “No, I don’t follow?”

The person laughed, “Right, right. Anyway, my question to you is have you and your girlfriend ever use a quirk during sex? Doesn’t your voice cause at least some vibrations when used in a controlled way? Why not use it on someone?”

Hizashi’s eyes widened, “Woah! Okay, I’m stopping you right there. This show is live and family friendly.” He quickly looked over to the audio techs, scrambling to cut the phone call now. They quickly did, and Hizashi blew out a sigh of relief.

“Wow, okay folks, time to get this party going with some new music out by a few popular bands.” He quickly moved onto another subject.

By the time the show ended, Hizashi kept thinking about the question that he was asked earlier. Was his quirk able to do that? He thought deeply about it. Technically, it should be able to do something like that. All Hizashi had to do was activate his quirk while he was whispering, and that would send a very mini version of the pressure pushed out. If he did it a few times in a row, then yeah, it would feel like vibrations.

He blew out a sigh, wondering if you’d even like to try that kind of thing. He’d figure he’d ask tonight when he got home. He was up to try it at least.

You were in the shower when he got home. He smiled softly to himself, looking in the fridge and noticing the extra food. He warmed it up in the microwave and sat down to eat it. Once he was done eating, he heard the shower turn off, and he quickly put the plate away and walked towards the bathroom.

“Hey sweetheart.” He called out, waiting for you to get out of the bathroom. You did, with a towel wrapped around your body. You smiled softly at him, happy to see him.

“Hi Hiz, how was work? I listened for a few hours but had to do some work.” You asked, walking towards him. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged, he hugged you back, groaning as some water dripped on him.

“It was great! Mostly…, hey you got me all wet.” He chuckled, pulling away at the feeling of wetness on his clothes.

“Mostly? What happened?” You ignored his joke, pouting at him.

He sighed, feeling a bit weird even bringing it up like this, but for some reason he was stuck on it. “Did you hear about the caller that asked about quirk use during sex?”

Your eyes widened and a surprised laugh came from your lips, “Mm, wow, that must’ve been surprising. I didn’t hear it.”

“Okay! Yeah, just something he said really made me think about something.” He paused and laughed, scratching his head.

“He said my quirk could cause sensations, like vibrations – and well, would you be interested in trying something out?” His words tumbled out and he watched as your smile widened and you nodded to him, causing him to laugh in relief.

“You were acting so nervous, I was worried!” You laughed, “Baby if you wanted to do that, we can. How would you wanna do it?” His eyes widened, realizing you meant right now. Damn, he was down for that too, why not?

“Mm, you know I love when you sit on my face.” He responded and you gave him a suggestive look as you dropped your towel. His eyes dropped down to your body and gulped as he watched some of the water drip down your breasts and down to your stomach, leading towards your hips. He sighed as he watched the water drip down your bare legs, and you walked over to the bedroom, signaling him to follow.

He settled down against the bed and motioned for you to get up on the bed with him. “I’ll tap you twice on your leg if I need to get up.” He spoke and pulled you close to him. He gave you a kiss on the lips, which turned heated as one of his hands drifted to your breasts.

He squeezed and massaged one of them and then started to pinch your nipple. You gasped into the kiss and leaned into him even more, which led him to slipping his tongue into your mouth, curling around your tongue and your mouth.

He groaned into the kiss as you started to grind against him. You wished he was naked, so you could feel more of his bare skin, and you slipped away from the kiss, panting, “Baby, I wanna feel you, take your clothes off.”

“Mm, of course, then I want you to sit on my face, pretty girl.” He murmured back to you, making you shiver in excitement. You pulled back and sat, helping him pull his shirt off. He grinned at you, and you smiled back, loving how attractive he was, with his hair down and smiling.

“You’re so handsome.” You let out, causing Hizashi to laugh and smile even more at you. He kissed your lips slightly, then scooted back to take his pants off. Once he was done, he gestured for you to come over to him.

He laid his head down on one of the pillows and you put one leg on one side of his head and the other on the other side. “You ready?” You asked, gazing down at him. He nodded back to you with a wide grin, excited for you to sit on his face. It was one of his favorite positions after all.

“Fuck yeah, baby.” He responded with a blush forming on his face, as he gazed up to your pussy. You slowly lowered yourself onto his face, and he blew out some air just before you settled down against him, causing you to shiver slightly.

Just as soon as you sat down on his face, he gave a big smooch to your pussy, chuckling when you shuddered again. He started off with smoothing his tongue slowly all up and down your pussy. He groaned at the taste, enjoying the sweetness of it.

“Ohhh, Hiz…” You trailed off, moaning as he started to circle around your clit. He usually focused on your clit, just as you liked and continued to press his tongue against your bud with more and more pressure.

He gripped your legs tightly, pushing you down further causing you to gasp loudly. You pushed your hands into his hair, pulling his face up closer against your pussy.

He grinned before he activated his quirk, to the very smallest set – extremely quiet, not a whisper but loud enough for you both to hear his words as the vibrations rolled straight into your clit, causing you to shake like crazy.

“How do you like it?” He asked, with his quirk activated.

You whimpered loudly, “Fuck, fuck, Hizashi.” Your voice carried out his name, and he shuddered at the sound of it. He loved hearing you moan his name, especially like that. It made him feel so important and lustful for you.

“Hmm, keep moaning for me, baby girl. I love it when you do that.” His voice came out, quirk activated with vibrations rolling out throughout your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened and you shook against him, about to come undone.

“I’m so close, fuck, please, keep doing that, oh god, please!” You begged him loudly, not caring that your neighbors might hear.

He continued going on the lowest activation of his quirk, muttering dirty things to you, “Go ahead baby, cum for me, I want your juices to cover my face. You taste so sweet, so good, fuck, baby girl, you’re so fucking good.”

That drew you over the edge with the vibrations curling over your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm pushed out of you, cum pouring out of your pussy, spreading over Hizashi’s face. He lapped it all up with his tongue, circling over your clit again, making you shudder once more.

“Baby, holy fuck, that was amazing.” He groaned as you slowly moved yourself off of his face. Your lower body was trembling as you moved away, and you laid next to him, breathing deeply.

“Yeah, it was. Can’t believe we didn’t think about that ourselves.” You chuckled back breathlessly. You pulled close to him and gave him a small peck to his lips.

He grinned happily, “We’re doing that again for sure. I’ve got to thank that caller.”

#yamada hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #smut

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sturniolos-blog · 2 months

Note

could u do smth like before they had kids (like their early marriage years) they got into a rlly bad fight cuz they both think that marriage is much amd isn’t for them (they even think to devorce) so they don’t talk a day or two but after that they’re somehow finding a way to make up (but like can you like rlly rlly angst i want to read blood sweat tears ahahahahha anyway i looove your stories they are the best!!!)

Do you still want me? - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - angst, arguing, swearing, sad but happy ending, mentions of a bad drinking habit, violence, Y/n going crazy

disclaimer: 3rd person POV, also i added Matt having a drinking problem to spice it up some more.

—————————

9:20pm

“I don’t fucking know, Matt!” Y/n yells as her and her husband stand in the living room arguing with each other.

“You don’t know what, y/n? Huh!? You don’t know what!?” Matt yells back, his face red with anger.

“I don’t know if i can do this anymore!” Y/n tears up, taking a second to take a breath.

Matt lets out a huff, “God, what are you talking about, Y/n?!” He throws his hands up before he rubs his beard.

Y/n takes in a shaky breath, “T-the coming home late, the going out for hours at a time, the not telling me where you are and then calling me because you need a ride home. A-and it’s not even that you’re calling me that’s the problem it’s the being so drunk where you can barely walk that’s the problem, Matthew. When i met you, you were sober- a-and now i can barely find a time when you are sober, s-so am i the problem?” Y/n asks, her voice cracking.

Matt shakes his head, “No, of course not. I-i just- a lot has been going on with work. A-and the drinking..” Matt trails off, swallowing harshly. Matt picks at his nails as he shrugs, “I don’t know.. it’s not you though, baby. It’s not you.” He said, almost in a whisper.

Y/n nods. “I don’t know what to do anymore, all we do is argue now.” Y/n points out.

Matt scoffs, “All married couples arg-”

“Not like this!” Y/n yells, cutting him off. “Not like this, okay? So we need to fucking figure it out because I want you to be the man i raise children with but if you can’t handle being a husband then how in the hell would you handle being a father?” Y/n says, a tear running down her cheek as she sniffles.

Inside, Matt’s heart breaks, he feels it break, he feels it break at her words. She was right, and he knew that. Outside, he didn’t blink an eye, he looked at her, “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I won’t handle it, maybe i won’t handle anything anymore! I’m done, Y/n.” Matt says, his voice cracking slightly.

Y/n let’s out a soft sob, “Y-you don’t mean that, Matt. Look, please I just- i just want us to work through this like always-”

“No, Y/n. You’re right. I drink, i work, im not perfect enough for you.” Matt says, his face was serious, which confused Y/n.

“D-don’t blame this on me!” She yelled, motioning to herself, “I- i love you and I always have a-and i wouldn’t give up this easily but you clearly don’t care anymore. I-i mean do you-” Y/n pauses to take a breath, “D-do you still want me?” She stutters out, hot tears still streaming down her face.

Matt doesn’t say anything, looking down.

Y/n let’s out a heart broken sob, “I-i thought you loved me!” She cried, her hand going to clench her shirt, right where her heart was.

“I do..” Matt whispered, scratching his head and looking away.

Y/n shook her head, “You don’t a-and that’s fine n-now. I just- i thought i married the love of my life and the sweetest guy i’ve ever met but clearly that person isn’t here anymore.” Y/n sobbed.

Matt didn’t say anything once again, he sniffled, not making eye contact with her.

“Look me in the eyes, and tell me you want a divorce, and we’ll do it. As soon as possible.” Y/n says, taking a step closer to Matt.

Matt locked eyes with her for a second, “I want..” He stopped, “I want a-” He stopped again, choking on his own words, the words he knew he didn’t wanna say, but Matt was that stubborn.

Y/n let out a laugh, taking a step back, “You can’t. You can’t say i-”

“I want a divorce.” Matt said, making Y/n’s amused face drop.

Y/n scoffed, but nodded. She felt anger building up in her body, “Fine! You know what!? F-fuck this then!” Y/n looked around the living room, Matt watching with a confused look.

Y/n suddenly walked over to the coffee table, picking up the picture frame Matt and Y/n had taken on the beach right after they got engaged.

Matt’s eyes glanced from Y/n’s hand with the picture frame to her enraged face. “Wait, what are you-”

smash!

Y/n had threw the once glass picture frame on the floor, making it break and making chips of glass scatter.

“What the fuck?!” Matt yells out, taking a step towards Y/n.

Y/n let out a sob as she sniffled, looking down at the picture frame before her eyes lock on another frame on the wall, their first year anniversary of dating.

“Y/n, don’t.” Matt warned her, putting his hand out but that didn’t stop her, making her walk over and take it off the wall.

“You don’t want me anymore, Matt?” She scoffed.

“Baby, please-”

Smash!

Y/n let out another cry as her break down continued. Through their whole relationship, even before then Matt had thought he’d seen the absolute worst of her, but no, this was worse.

“Y/n, I do love you, please, stop.” Matt said, he was shocked, but he meant what he said.

Y/n looked at him and shook her head, her slowly making her way towards one in particular heart-shaped frame.

It was their wedding photo, the day they made their vows to each other. The day Y/n and Matt promised each other, to love each other through the good, and the bad.

“Y/n. Don’t fucking do it.” Matt said, almost wanting to grab her and pull her back.

Y/n cried as she took the frame off the wall, she stared down at it as seconds went by.

Matt waited, and waited, and waited some more for another sound of glass breaking.

But he didn’t.

No, all he heard was Y/n’s sobs and sniffles as she stared down at the photo, some tears making its way on the glass and running down to the point of the heart.

“Y-you said you loved me!” Y/n sobbed, slowly falling too her knees.

Matt ran over to her, taking her into his arms and holding her, taking the frame from her hands and placing it on the floor before she put her head in his chest.

“I’m s-so sorry, Matt. P-please don’t leave me, i can’t do it alone!” Y/n’s sobbed racked her whole body against Matt’s.

Matt had tears running down his own cheeks as his wife fell apart in his arms, “I-i don’t wanna l-leave you, Y/n. I’m not, i won’t.” He promised, holding her tightly.

Y/n’s sobs continued, her hands grasping onto Matt’s sweatshirt as her tears sank into the front of it, Matt feeling it on his chest.

Matt held her, his fingers slowly stroking her hair, this small gesture always calmed her down, the way it felt against her scalp, or how small and supposedly meaningless it is.

It always meant something to Y/n. Always.

As Matt’s fingers brushed through her hair, Y/n’s sobs slowly slowed down, and she slowly fell asleep.

Matt noticed this when she didn’t hear the racks of her sobs or the sniffles in between. He noticed this when her fingers that once had a grasp on his sweatshirt let go. And he also noticed this when he felt the tears stop.

He kissed her head, not knowing what to do as he looked around, looking at the glass that was shattered, the frames Y/n smashed.

He slowly lifted Y/n, picking his wife up and walking upstairs, walking into their shared bedroom, placing her small body on her side of the bed.

Placing a kiss on her forehead, and covering her with the quilt.

—————————

9:34am

Y/n let’s out a soft sigh as she stretches, slowly waking up, feeling a comfortable mattress beneath her.

She rubs her eyes a sits up, not remembering how she got here as she looked around her and Matt’s room, taking note Matt wasn’t laying next to her.

A wave of remembrance came from last night, her heart panging as she remembered what Matt said to her, and what she did in response.

“Shit..” Y/n groaned, getting out of bed and slowly walking out of their room.

She then braces herself and walks downstairs, expecting to see the glass on the floor, and also not expecting to see Matt.

But wasn’t she surprised.

She made it to the bottom step and looked at the clean floor, no broken picture frames.

In fact, the picture frames were on the wall, just like they were before.

Was everything just a dream? God she hoped so.

Her thoughts got interrupted when Matt walks in the living room from the kitchen, smiling at Y/n.

“How do you feel, baby?” He asked her softly.

Y/n looked at him, pointing to the frames in the wall, “Did I-” She paused, not wanting to make herself sound crazy. “Did I uh- break those?” She asked, a confused look on her face as she did so.

“Yeah, you did. You remember last night, right?” Matt said, also a confused look coming on his face.

Y/n swallowed and nodded, “Yeah, i do, i just kinda thought it was all a dream.” She shrugged.

Matt shook his head, coming over and placing his hands on Y/n’s waist.

“It wasn’t a dream, no.” He said, his voice low but soft.

Y/n sighed, crossing her arms as Matt’s hands move to rub up and down them. “D-do you want to get a divorce?” Y/n asked cautiously.

Matt looks down for a second, “Of course not, and im sorry that i told you that. I just- i don’t know..” Matt shrugs. “But i do know…” He smiles, leaning closer to me, “I can’t live without you.”

Y/n nods, “Okay, so what next?”

Matt sighs, “I’ll stop drinking, i will not work so much, and i’ll work for this marriage. A-and when i get you pregnant in a couple years, i’ll be there for you and the baby, or babies..” Matt laughs.

Y/n groans, leaning forward. “God, i love you, Chris and Nick so much but i do not think I can do triplets.”

Matt leans down, kissing her softly. “You can do anything.”

—————————

sorry i like starved you guys, i write like one or two words and then stop love you guys and thanks for the support

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #spotify #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

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magics-neptunes-things · 3 months

Text

Friends or Lover

Hello there!

This is a lovely request that you can find here. Again it's a fiction so I'm not claiming that I know the truth about anything. Also this is a sweet wonderful world where ACL are unbreakable.

Enjoy ♥

TW : None

PART 1 | PART 3

______________________________________________________________

"When will you stop hiding?"

Leah’s question, asked to Katie make the woman raise a surprised look on her friend. Both in practice before tonight’s game, they were stretching when Leah spoke in a thoughtful and curious tone.

"What?" Katie raises her eyebrows.

"Caitlin and you"

Katie’s eyes automatically fall on Caitlin, who is also busy warming up with Kyra and Steph. The Irishwoman then shifts her attention to Leah, who naturally saw where Katie’s eyes had turned.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about" Katie grumbles as she resumes her exercises.

"Yeah right" Leah chuckles with a mischievous smile.

A few seconds of silence pass between the two young women, Katie preferring not to respond to Leah’s provocation. Obviously, Leah noticed the glances exchanged and the flirty smiles between Katie and Caitlin, for a very long time now. Katie and Leah have known each other for many years and the blonde knows her friend like the back of her hand.

"Is it because of Lia?" asks Leah soon after, more serious this time

Katie sighs and scratch the back of her head. There is no need to denied more if her friend knows already right?

"Kind of. We don't want people assume that Caitlin and Lia broke up because of that. All happened after the break up, the falling into the other and all, and after my break up too. We don't want to hurt Lia in anyway, she's my friend and I love her. And I don't want Ruesha to know too."

"Why that?"

"You know how she is" Katie shrugs

Leah hums, looking at Lia for some seconds. Both women didn't realize that Caitlin is looking at them now, clearly asking herself what the hell they are talking about.

"I don't think you have to worry about Lia, she will be fine. And for Ruesha even if some Arsenal's girls would know, no one will talk to her about it. Sorry to tell you that, but no one really liked your ex."

"How do you know for Lia?" Katie asks, frowning and skipping the last part of the sentence.

"I just know" Leah answers, trying to suppress a smile on her lips.

She failed and Katie notice immediately. The Irish woman drop whatever she was doing, eyes wild.

"Leah Cathrine Williamson, don't tell me..."

"What? Can you really blame me? Plus you can happily live your love with Caitlin now"

"I never said it's love"

"What is it then?"

"... friends? Who cares a lot for each others and... who... give... each others attention and, well, kind of... wild sex?"

Leah almost choke while laughing and Katie rolls her eyes while smiling. Jonas call them soon after, informing them of some last minute tactical changes. Taking advantage that everyone is gathered, Caitlin discreetly approaches Katie. Positioned slightly behind her, Katie must turn a little to look at the Australian when she whispers in her ear.

"What were you and Leah talking about?"

Their faces are only a few centimeters apart and Caitlin momentarily forgets that she asked a question, her eyes sliding on the lips of her interlocutor. Bowing an amused eyebrow when seeing Caitlin’s gaze, Katie gives her a playful hip shot before answering her.

"Not here. Later, okay?"

Seeing Caitlin’s inquisitive and worried gaze, Katie uncross the arms she had crossed on her chest to place a reassuring hand on the Australian’s arm.

"Nothing serious Sweet, don’t worry"

Caitlin watches Katie for a few more seconds before nodding. Katie lets her hand slid along Caitlin's arm to take her hand in hers. The two young women had already shifted their attention back to Jonas when Leah, appearing magically alongside Katie, whispers in her ear.

"Friend’s don’t do things like that."

********

"Leah knows"

Busy tidying up her things after the football game, Caitlin turns abruptly towards Katie who is herself getting rid of her hoodie, leaving her in bra. They came to Caitlin’s home after the game, with both of her cars, not to attract suspicion.

"What? How?"

Katie simply shrugs as she looks at the Australian over her shoulder after throwing her hoodie on the bed. Detaching her hair, she looks at Caitlin through the mirror.

"She knows, that’s all. And I guess it’s just an assemblage of things, she was so sure when she talked to me about it that it was useless for me to denied it."

Caitlin answers nothing to this, mechanically playing with one of her football boots.

"Does that make any difference to you?" asks the Irish woman, gently frowning.

"No, nothing. I just hope it doesn’t cause drama"

"We can trust Leah, I’m sure she won’t tell anyone. And if it’s about Lia, it seems she’s moved on too"

This seems to draw Caitlin's attention, who reports her eyes on Katie’s back. The latter observes her carefully, still through the mirror, and therefore doesn't miss the change in behavior of the brunette.

"Oh? With whom?"

"Leah" answers Katie before waiting a few seconds to ask her the question burning her lips. "Does it bother you?"

"No, not at all. I mean, even if we’re not together I care for her and she deserves to be happy. I'm glad if it's with Leah, I know she will treat her right."

Katie nods thoughtfully and begins to untangle her hair. Which she already did when she got out of the shower earlier, but because of the London wind, they’re already full of knots. A few seconds later, Caitlin is behind her to take the brush from her hands and do it herself. The Australian realized early in their relationship how much Katie appreciated when she plays with her hair.

"That leaves us Ruesha anyway" Caitlin says, after minutes of silence.

"I don’t think anyone from Arsenal will tell her" Katie says, taking Leah's words "And when she will know, I can handle her. And I won't let her to come near you"

"Sur thing, Rambo" Caitlin smirks. "Now can you please put a shirt on or something? I can't stay focus on anything when you're half naked"

"I know" Katie smirk back, before turning around to face Caitlin.

She pass her arms around Caitlin neck, playing with her baby hair before kissing her. Caitlin’s hands find their place on her hips, dragging the other girl more against her. They kiss for some minutes, before Caitlin's lips are finding her way along Katie's neck.

"Leah said something else" Katie whispers before holding her breath when Caitlin bite her.

"What did Leah say?" Caitlin mumble against her skin.

"Friend's don't do things like that" Katie answers, mimicking Leah's accent.

That made the Aussie laughs, and before she can do anything against it, Katie push her on her back in the bed to straddle her. Still smiling, Caitlin let her hands embrace Katie's ass before leaning for another kiss. Katie give it to her, but Caitlin realize there is something else.

"What is it Katie?"

"Leah said..." begin Katie while Caitlin rolls her eyes.

"Leah said a lot of things today. Go on" she adds, seeing the other girl biting her lips.

"She asks me what we are and I didn't know what to answer"

"What did you said?"

Caitlin tilted her head, really curious of Katie's answer. But the Irish woman blush when she remembers what she said. That thing alone intrigues Caitlin, Katie isn't the kind of person who blushes, she's the one who usually makes others blush.

"Is it that bad?" Caitlin laughs

"Kinda" mumble Katie, now sitting on Caitlin's legs, her hands on Caitlin's hips.

"Just tell me"

Rising on her elbows to better observe the youngest, Caitlin looks closely at Katie’s face. The Irish girl seems to find her fingers and nails very interesting at the moment.

"Dunno. I answer something like we are friends who take care of each other, something like that"

Caitlin stay silence for a long moment, at least in Katie's opinion, before burst into laughter.

"Taking care of each others? Is it how you talk about sex now?"

"I mention sex too" Katie answer while rolling her eyes. "But I don't know, I had the feeling that it was more than that. At least, it is for me"

Caitlin's laughter finally stopped after that and she's looking at Katie with a smile and tenderness. They have never talk about the agreements of their relationship, to be fair to Katie. The latter seems to be kind of embarrassed, looking at everything in the room until it's not Caitlin.

"Hey" Caitlin says, taking Katie's chin between her thumb and her index "Of course it's more than sex, for me too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah" confirms Caitlin, still smiling.

"Amazing sex" smirks Katie

"Amazing sex" Caitlin confirms, before Katie lay on top of her to kiss her properly.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #katie mccabe #katie mccabe imagine #caitlin foord imagine #caitlin foord #mcfoord

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neowinestainedress · 1 year

Text

close as strangers | jeong jaehyun

title: close as strangers

pairing: jeong jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: childhood friends to strangers to friends, college!au, fluff, angst | requested

warnings: angst

summary: something breaks between you and Jaehyun when he starts dating the one who seems to be the love of his life. And you’re not sure you can cope with him slowly pushing you out of his life.

words: 7.446k

a/n: can't believe I finally wrote another one of the requests I got, the others will come out, I promise. I'm not sure it's exactly what the requester wanted (probably it's not sad enough, idk??) but I hope you'll like it anyway. Please let me know what you think with comments, reblogs or even asks!

“I’m not being annoying, I’m telling the truth,” you huff when Jaehyun pushes you away with a playful tug and calls you annoying for the nthtime.

“I’m not a loser, I have never been,” he replies, crossing his arms on his chest, and staring straight in front of him, trying to ignore you.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes, jumping on top of him and pulling his cheeks, moving his face side to side.

“Ouch, ouch,” he hisses, trying to pull away from your hold, but you only laugh and think that he looks so cute with his red cheeks, soft brown hair falling delicately on his forehead and beautiful eyes. “Stop it, fine, fine, I’m a loser.”

You cheer, happy about your victory but don’t move away from him. To strangers’ eyes it should be weird but for you two it’s only normal. You can’t even remember a moment when Jaehyun wasn’t by your side after you became best friends in kindergarten.

“I’m always right,” you quip, kissing his still red cheeks.

“She looked intimidating, I’m not like this anymore,” he defends himself again, and you find it entertaining. “You can’t call me a loser because my first crush was a failure. It’s been years.”

You shake your head, “I give it to you that she was too beautiful to even look at you,” you joke and at that he playfully hits your arm, only making you chuckle. “You were a loser in a cute kind of way. And you still act the same.”

Jaehyun huffs, shaking his head and gesturing for you to get off him. “See, you are annoying.”

You smile, silently following him into the kitchen, watching as he grabs a drink from the fridge and hands one to you. “So annoying I’m not even sure I can confess something to you.”

A furrow forms on your face, studying him with your tilted head. “Confess?”

“Yeah,” he says and when he meets your eyes his face blushes even more, “God, no, don’t think what you’re thinking, I don’t love you.”

“Oh, thank god,” you reply, but your heart doesn’t feel as light as your voice coming out of your lips. You hate it, or maybe you hate the way he says it, as if it would be so weird for him to love you. But you’re quick at shaking those thoughts out of your brain, at least for now. “So what is it?”

Jaehyun sighs, scratching his neck before nodding at the drink in your head, “You don’t want it?”

You gulp, you’d need it, but you’re not sure you’ll love whatever news he will drop and you’d like to avoid spitting it on his face. “No, sorry.”

He shrugs, grabbing it from your hand, and the light touch sends shivers down your skin.

“So, there’s this girl…”

There’s this girl…

Unfortunately, there’s this girl. Unfortunately, Jaehyun is head over heels for her.

He’s a loser, or maybe even more. So much that he gets annoying and you can’t stand him.

There should be nothing wrong with it, you should live this like any other of his crush, or relationships, but something inside of you is not letting it happen. You blame it on the fact he always talks about her, bringing her into every conversation even when she’s got nothing to do with it. You can’t see that you’re blinded by a feeling you never even imagined feeling.

Jaehyun is your best friend, nothing less, nothing more.

But apparently, your heart stopped seeing him this way a long time ago.

“I hate this class with a burning passion,” Jaehyun huffs, throwing away the pen he’s writing with as if he could throw away the headache that’s torturing him while he’s uselessly trying to memorize everything he needs for the exam.

You chuckle, lifting your eyes for a split second to look at him, grey hoodie over his hair and pissed-off expression staring at you as if you’re an alien for understanding everything so easily.

“I envy you so much, you’re so smart,” he complains again, drifting his gaze because the more he looks at you the madder he gets.

Your eyes roll back. “I’m not smart, lately all your blood is flowing in your pants, that’s why you can’t understand anything about uni lessons anymore.”

He glares at you. “Shut up, we didn’t even fuck.”

“Us?”

“Me and her,” he almost screams, staring at you with wide eyes. “Don’t make weird assumptions about us.”

You bite your lip, but not enough that you can stop yourself from asking a question you shouldn’t ask. “You wouldn’t?”

Jaehyun blinks repeatedly, staring at you with a furrow on his face. “Would, what?”

“Fuck with me.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, “Are you serious? Of course, I wouldn’t, we’re best friends.”

“Well, there are a lot of best friends that do it.” You know you’re shocking him with every word, you can see it in his wide-open eyes and mouth, but you can’t stop. It shouldn’t, but it is hurting your pride.

“Not us,” he replies as if it is obvious, it should be obvious, at least, and he doesn’t understand what had taken over you today. “Why would we?”

“I’m not saying we have to,” you whisper, tapping your shoes against the floor. “But you know, it can happen.”

Jaehyun laughs, “Sex never happens. It’s not some kind of fatality.”

“When you’re drunk?”

“Oh, yeah, depending on how drunk you are that falls into assault actually.”

You roll your eyes, “You know what I meant, just enough that you… you know what is happening but not enough to think about the consequences.”

“Yeah, that’s why we make sure to never cross that line when we drink, because we won’t let it happen.”

You hold back a bitter laugh, “You’re talking as if I’m the ugliest person you have ever seen.”

“I didn’t say that, you’re beautiful, you know I think that. I even think you can be hot when you want to,” he laughs, surely referring to your personal struggles of stepping out of certain comfort zones but you don’t find it funny. “Come on, you know I’m saying I won’t because we’re best friends, I’ve known you since you eat stick glue and the teachers wouldn’t let you close to them.”

You ignore his recall of that fun memory and go straight to the point, brain completely fogged by your hurt pride, rationality gone. “What if we weren’t?”

“But we are.”

“What if we weren’t?”

Jaehyun chuckles, at this point his laugh is awkward, and he hates he can’t seem to find any sign of a joke in your eyes. “Yes…” he answers hesitantly, and you don’t know if he means it or if it’s because he wants to make you happy and fool.

But you don’t press him anymore, after all, it doesn’t matter, you are best friends, and you can’t turn back time and change the events that lead you there right now, so you bring your attention back to the books.

“I can help you with what you don’t understand, I’m here for that,” you say.

“Are you mad? I genuinely think you’re beautiful, you know it. I just don’t want to lose you with sex.”

“I know, I agree, it got nothing to do with you, actually. Sorry, a bit of paranoia for a dick absence of six months,” you lie, blaming it on your lack of activity in bed would’ve dusted off that awkward moment you were going to reply in your brain for months probably. And Jaehyun believes it, an expression full of pity forming on his face and the same usual ‘your value doesn’t come from men wanting you,’ and you know, it might not come from men but from him? It does.

But it’s fine like this, at least with that lie you’re sure you didn’t scare him off, and when you propose to stay for dinner he doesn’t run away but helps you with that. It’s just you and him, like it had always been, only with a fire inside of you that you never wanted to light up, and you know it will burn you.

“You need to fix this room,” Jaehyun jokes, his breath puffing against your hair while you’re lying in your bed.

“Leave me alone, I’ve been sad lately,” you pout, rolling your body and hiding your face in the crook of his neck, his scent filling your senses.

“I can help you if you want,” he replies, caressing your back in circles.

“With my sadness?” You lift your neck to stare at him, finding him looking at you.

“With your room,” he shrugs.

You let out a whine, groaning while you pull away from his hold against your will. You like being there, embraced in his warmth. Jaehyun feels familiar, he always had, even before he actually was. And now you need to lull yourself into that feeling more than ever. But as you look around and see the state of your bedroom you realize he’s not wrong.

“You know how you could help?” You say, jumping around and facing him.

Jaehyun smiles, sitting up straight and leaning in. He’s so close to you that you can only see his eyes while all the rest fades away. “With a kiss?”

Your heart starts throbbing and you’re sure the temperature of your skin is rising, but you try to hide the dumb smile that’s forming on your face. You don’t answer, only melt on the spot when his lips meet your skin, pressing against your cheek with a loud sound.

“Fixed,” he giggles, caressing your cheek, ear and hair in a move he had always done since you were kids, the only difference was that now his hand cupped half of your face with ease. “Better?”

You hum, smiling but feeling another sting in your chest. You hopeful, hopeful girl wishing he would’ve kissed your lips instead.

“I wanted to propose to go buy groceries, by the way,” you chuckle, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, your weird second sadness fixing.”

“Hey!” You yell, faking an offended grin on your face and he only pulls out his tongue before jumping in front of the closet and opening the doors. You don’t have time to tell him to stop that he’s crushed by a mass of clothes, and you’d like to be mad about it but when he sits on the floor with clothes all over him and glares at you, you can only laugh.

“It’s funny? I could’ve been killed and you’re laughing,” he jokes, scrolling the clothes off him and reaching you, starting to tickle you. “God, I’m a loser but you are so messy.”

“Stop, you will kill me,” you cry when his fingers are still torturing you, and only when you kiss his cheek he stops. “I’m sorry, I tried to warn you but you were too fast.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh before a nervous laugh rolls out of his lips when he sees the mess in the room. “Now we will have to fix this, you know?”

You hum, hugging him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “It won’t take long if we’re two.”

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

“You decided to open my closet, and for what?”

“I wanted to pick your clothes,” he whines, grabbing a handful of clothes and placing them on the bed to fold them. “Remember we used to do it?”

You laugh, doing the same and facing him on the other side. “When we had to go somewhere together and we wanted to have the same vibes, not to go buy some bread.”

“When aren’t we together?” He asks, staring at you with a superior grin.

“Fine, you’re right,” you give up, not able to hide the smile on your face. “But it wasn’t a sabotaging program from me.”

After half an hour the clothes are back at their place, this time folded and placed so they won’t fall on whoever dares to open the doors. And Jaehyun is waiting for you to change into the clothes he picked.

“All black because I have to match you?” You ask, looking at what he chose.

“Of course,” he shrugs, sitting on the bed, waiting for you to change into the new clothes. “Where are you going?” He asks when you start making your way to the door.

“Bathroom? I have to change?”

He chuckles before a furrow forms on his face when you stare at him with a serious expression, “We never changed in another room.”

“Yeah, but you’re dating now, or sort of.”

“Sort of,” he says, shaking his head to move back the hair that covers his eyes. “Come on, we always did that, even when one of us was dating.”

You hum, walking back toward the bed, placing the clothes on the soft duvet to get rid of the ones you’re already wearing. Jaehyun is right, you’ve always done it. Things like this, so intimate, so private, always happened between you two without a glint of embarrassment. But now it’s different. Now that your fingers slowly grip the hem of your sweater to pull it over your head, you feel as if he’s eyes are burning into your skin. You know he’s not looking at you in a different way, but you wish he did. You wish he would stand up and stand close to you, letting the sweater fall at your feet, while his broad body presses against you, slowly trapping you between him and the wall before he kisses you as if he waited all his life for that moment.

But it doesn’t happen. He never waited for that moment to happen, you did, probably, without realizing, thinking that this, the beautiful relationship you had, was going to turn into something different. But when you’re out of the sweater, it doesn’t fall at your feet, and your back is not pressing against the wall, and the humiliation of the thought that crossed your mind makes you dress once again quickly.

“Should we get something for dinner,” he proposes when you’re almost done with the shopping, cart half-full.

“Are you staying?”

“You don’t want me anymore?” He pretends to be offended, staring at you with wide eyes and a hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes, “Okay drama queen, let’s choose something and then let’s go, you need to help me with all these things.”

“See, you only use me for my muscles,” he pouts, pushing the cart, and purposefully hitting you with a swing of the hip.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any other strong man like you in my life,” you mimic in a silly voice, fanning yourself and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Though I was a loser,” he grins, looking down at you.

“Oh, you are.”

The evening proceeds as usual for you two, he helps you put things back in place, you spend a good ten minutes bickering over what you should choose to eat for dinner (as if the fight at the shop wasn’t enough), and then you settle down on the couch to eat while watching one of your favorite series, one of the few things you don’t even take a second to decide. Your head rests against his shoulder when you’re not eating or commenting on something, and his arms stay wrapped around your shoulder for the whole time.

It feels like home.

Jaehyun knows exactly where to throw the things you used, he even washes the dishes while you go wash up and then you switch places, drying them while he does what you just did. He even knows where you keep the blankets so you could lay back on the couch comfortably.

And that’s how you fall asleep, with Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on your head, squeezing into the small couch because sleep took over you before you could even think of dragging your tired legs to your bedroom. Netflix is still running, playing more episodes before it goes on standby and the night is quiet outside while you lull into each other.

It feels like home.

The bubble that you and Jaehyun lived in is menacing to burst. You don’t want to be a hater, but every time he talks about her you feel your insides turn upside down.

You think that meeting her will soothe you down a little, that maybe you can find something in her that it’s not as amazing as Jaehyun says to be, something he hates but he didn’t see, too focused in the rush of the moment.

But when you meet her, your last hope falls apart.

Of course, Jaehyun is head over heels for her.

Not only she is objectively beautiful, funny and smart, but she’s everything he ever wanted.

You know his type, thanks to all the nights up spent talking about love and the other kids in your classes, from the silly, meaningless flings in elementary school, until now. His type never changed a lot, and now that you look back at it, and stare at her in silence, you realize you never fit in the box.

Yes, you’re beautiful, funny, and smart, but not in the same way she is, not in the way Jaehyun wants.

If you had to place her and yourself on a line, you would be on the far opposite ends.

“So, how did you meet?” You ask, even if you already know it, but you need to fill the silence while Jaehyun left you two alone to get in line to grab the food, and somehow you don’t want to know more about her.

She smiles at you, teeth so perfect that you wonder how they aren’t fake and then says, “It was a coincidence, you know those cliché types of meeting in movies?” You nod, playing with the napkin at your side. “We run into each other while we were both running late for the bus, we never caught it but we met each other. Destiny is great sometimes.”

You nod, mumbling ‘sure,’ forcing yourself to be happier about it. Because if he’s happy, you’re happy and vice versa, that’s how it always worked in your friendship. But right now you can’t be happy about anything, you can’t do anything but feel a lump in your throat when Jaehyun comes back and leaves a small peck on her forehead while placing the food in front of her but doesn’t do the same with you. He would’ve had. He used to be so physical with you and now you feel like you can’t even remember what a hug feels like.

But you swallow the gulp in your throat and try to make conversation, trying not to hate her because she doesn’t deserve it. Because now you know that even if you went back in time and changed things, Jaehyun wouldn’t have looked at you anyway. He probably wouldn’t have even looked at you like a friend, so this was the best you could get.

This was a dream. The same dream that was before, only with a stinging pain in your chest.

Somewhere along the line, it turns into a nightmare. It’s not when you realize that this is meant to be, that they are not a temporary story bound to break but something meant to last. After six months Jaehyun still looks at her with the same heart-shaped eyes, ears almost perking up like a dog when her name is spoken, and cheeks turning cheesily red every time she looks at him.

And you can only shake your head thinking that he is a loser, and the reason you hate it so much it’s because Jaehyun is not a loser for you.

You are for him. You are a clown, probably, and it’s even worst.

“Where were we when it happened?” You barely register Jaehyun talking to you, too lost in your thoughts, shaking your head to stare at him while your brain works fast to remember what he was talking about.

“Oh, it was the cabin we went to for my eighteenth birthday,” you say, forcing a smile to curl your lips.

“Yeah, right, that place was magical, we should go someday.”

“Oh, yes, that would be great,” you reply, thinking he’s talking to you but when he giggles your smile drops.

“No, honey, me and her,” he says, finger moving back and forth between himself and his girlfriend. “Remember that there was some sort of couples discounts or tours, there was a spa, right?”

You gulp, but push down the burning sensation in your throat it’s hard. “I guess, I don’t remember,” your voice comes out more stern than you want but Jaehyun doesn’t notice, he doesn’t care.

“Maybe I’ll text your mom, she’ll definitely know,” he says before turning to her again.

And you sit there, in silence, fighting back the tears because selfishly you don’t want your memories of your eighteenth birthday to be fogged by their new ones. That was your place, one of the many, and the idea of him going there kills you.

It’s dramatic, it’s stupid, but it’s exactly how you feel.

“I booked two seats at our favorite movie theatre, and you won’t believe it, but the movie we wanted to see it’s in our favorite room and I also got our favorite seats, the magic of the internet,” you cheer happily over the phone, your pc still open on the cinema page with the confirmation of the payment.

“Oh,” you hear Jaehyun from the other side. “For this Friday?”

You hum, still smiling thinking that you finally got to see the sequel you both waited for so long.

“I don’t think I can.”

You furrow. “What do you mean? Friday it’s our cinema night out, we always go there when there are new movies we like. We’ve been waiting for this for years.”

“Yeah, I know but it slipped my mind,” he says. “I have to meet her parents.”

Your jaw falls on the floor. It feels surreal, at this point you’re not even mad because he forgot but he’s going to meet her parents? After eight months?

“You hate meeting parents,” you chuckle, the words coming out of your mouth in a way that’s screaming you can’t believe them.

“Not hers.”

“What do you mean? The only parents you don’t hate are mine.”

“Maybe not anymore,” he sighs, and you can picture him rubbing his chin from the other side of the line. “Listen, she cares about this a lot.”

“I care about it too.”

“A movie over a dinner with my girlfriend’s parents? Please be serious.”

You hate how mocking his voice is, you hate that to him your plans are nothing.

“But I told you this Monday I was going to book them, why couldn’t you postpone it with her?”

“Because her mother proposed, I couldn’t say I couldn’t go because I had to watch a stupid movie.”

You hum, squeezing your eyes shut to push back tears, hoping he couldn’t hear your sniffle.

“Yeah, sure, have fun.” You have to close the call, his words and voice hurting you like thousands of needles against your skin.

You stare blankly at the screen, the map of the theatre still open with the colored seats you had selected and the transaction approved. A small crack forms in your heart when you realise that the night you had planned together wasn’t going to happen.

You get up, closing the laptop, you would’ve checked later if you could’ve got a refund, but now you just wanted to stare at your ceiling and let yourself go to silent tears.

It was just a stupid movie.

If only after a while a lot of things didn’t start to be stupid.

Lunches out at your favorite place during lesson breaks.

Nights up playing video games at your place or watching movies at his.

Even studying together for the exams, or your usual study hangouts to keep up with the lessons, became stupid.

Jaehyun being in love wasn’t painful anymore, but Jaehyun cutting you out of his life was killing you.

If he sat next to you during lessons it felt like a miracle and even then he would talk to you just a little. And you couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t the first time he was in love, and for how serious their story could be, was it necessary to cut you out like that?

You shared every moment together. And you can’t accept this ending like this.

“It’s been a lot since we last have been together,” you say, for a mere coincidence you two are walking together out of the last lesson of the day and he still hasn’t pulled away to go somewhere else, barely even warning you.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy,” Jaehyun replies, head low on his white converse on the ground.

You’ve been ignoring me, you’d like to answer but don’t. Not really in the mood to ruin this moment, it feels normal, like all the days you used to share going everywhere together. There weren’t silly jokes, and your arms weren’t intertwined, but it was better than nothing.

“Why don’t you come to mine this weekend? We don’t have a lot of essays, we could just order take out and spend some time together, like the old times.”

“Yeah, why not,” Jaehyun replies, turning his head to look at you with a smile.

Yeah, the old times.

The ones that are long gone now that you’re sitting on the floor, pillows all around you, your blanket covering your bodies, empty food boxes at your feet and the tv playing a movie not you nor him are paying attention to.

You’re too focused on him and he’s too focused on his phone.

You can see from the smile on his face that he’s texting her, he had been since all night actually. You could barely make a conversation while you were eating, either receiving no answer or syllables as one.

The old times are long gone, and you’re not sure you can live like this.

The decision came to you one night, after hours of crying all your tears while going through your old chats with Jaehyun and scrolling through the pictures you’ve taken together.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

If he had decided to cut you out of his life, you were going to do the same with him.

But saying it was easier than doing it, and now that you found yourself under the tree you used to wait for him when you had different lessons, you don’t feel so confident about this anymore.

This is worst than confessing, it’s more humiliating because if you did that, he would simply reply that he doesn’t like you back, but saying you need to cut strings with him means that he won’t fight for you. You already know it, it had been written in the last months when he started to slip away from your hold more and more, at first without you even noticing, and now you were there.

“Hey,” he calls your name, and it feels weird on his tongue now, it’s not playfully, it’s not teasing, it’s not full of love, it’s cold and distant, and you hate that his happiness with another person took you there. You can’t blame yourself, because even though the pain, you always supported them, you couldn’t make him pay for not proving something for you, so why was he making you pay for feeling something for somebody else?

“Hey,” you smile back before taking a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to break off the longest-running friendship of your life. But no amount of nights up and preparatory speeches prepared you for this. It’s a crash of words and screams. Jaehyun doesn’t get why you would break your friendship for some ‘no’ and you telling him it wasn’t just that.

“Than what it is? I don’t get it, are you jealous I’m happy?”

“God, no, why would I even be jealous,” you reply with a bitter offended chuckle. Yes, you are jealous, but jealousy is not the thing that is making you do this, you could live with that, you could live watching his eyes light up when he stares at somebody else, you could live hearing her name roll out of his lips so sweetly, you could even live with them being always together, reminding you every second how happy they were. What you can’t live with is the pain his detachment brings along. You can’t do it anymore because now that your head lifts up and you look at him, you can’t recognize the person you grew up with anymore.

“Then can you tell me what’s wrong?” He insists, huffing loudly.

You bite your tongue, you can’t confess, you can’t tell him you love him, you can’t. It’s a secret you want to bring to your tomb, but you slip.

“You do what?”

Your eyes widen when you realize what you said, hands covering your mouth as if you could take it back. And you find yourself thinking that having the power of turning back time would be a great thing. You would’ve used it so much, but you don’t have it, and you’re forced to pay the price for all the stupid mistakes you’re making.

“Nothing.”

“You love me?” He asks before a groan of your name comes out of his mouth to demand an answer you don’t want to give him.

“No, I love you as a friend, and I… I hate that you’re cutting me off,” you lie, lips shaking, eyes full of tears falling freely down your cheeks. It’s pathetic, you can’t even remember the last time you cried in front of him, but it surely wasn’t as humiliating as this. There was no reassurance in his eyes this time, no strong arms to wrap around you and hold you tight while he whispered that everything would’ve been alright, but there was no use for a lie, nothing was going to be alright. It was just an already written mess.

“Don’t lie to me,” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you lower your head, sobbing silently.

“It doesn’t matter,” you scream to the ground, to yourself. No, it doesn’t matter, what you feel doesn’t matter, you don’t matter. To him, you don’t matter, not like you used to for sure.

“It does, that’s why you wanted to know if I would have sex with you?”

You rub your face and shake your head. “No, I… I don’t care, I don’t even want you to love me back. I need us to be done.”

“Because I said no? Because I hang out with my girlfriend? You are jealous, of course, you care.”

“I’m not jealous, I wish I at least still had the same place in your heart, I was your best friend, you loved spending time with me, we were close, we were happy and now, you avoid me. You don’t even sit next to me in class.”

Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head before turning around and walking in a circle. You wish you could read him like you used to do, but you can’t understand if he’s mad or sad, maybe both.

“How you loving me doesn’t come between us?” He asks when it seems he made up his mind.

“It doesn’t, it’s… it’s not even love. I need time alone, Jaehyun,” you sigh, his full name rolling out of your lips hurts. “I’m happy for you, I truly am, but you’re so distant and you’ve never been like this and I can’t take it.”

Another loud sigh comes out of Jaehyun’s lips, the more he stares at you the less he could understand, but he couldn’t blame you for feeling what you felt, you surely didn’t do it on purpose and you hated what you felt more than him probably, considering you were suffering so much to the point of breaking what held you together for so long.

“So what do we do? Ignore each other?”

You sniffle. “You are already ignoring me.”

“I – I’m sorry, maybe I did but I didn’t notice,” he justifies with a slightly offended tone. “I’ve never been better than now, and I don’t want this to change.”

“And that’s fine,” you reply, holding your bag closer to you, “It’s fine but I need you out of my life because like this, with you being half in and half out, I can’t go on. I can’t move, and I… I just hate being this away from you. But it’s fine, as long as you’re happy, I’ll be fine.”

You thought that was going to be liberating but it turned out not to be. Not when Jaehyun was the only one you knew. Sure, you talked around on campus here and there, but the only one you could count on was him. Too afraid to meet people and too tired to open up with them.

Jaehyun already knew everything, in fact, no one else knew you how much Jaehyun did.

And not having him anymore was the worst feeling ever.

It was hard not picking up the phone to tell him something in the heat of the moment, but all your last sent texts with no answer or ‘I’ll watch it later,’ were the awakening you needed to put the phone down and feel your heart sink to your knees. You couldn’t have texted him anyway but the reminder of the last cold months was enough to make you believe it was the right choice.

You had survived a lot of things, with him by your side, you could survive even this, without him.

So you try to concentrate on your studies, hoping all the words will drown you in a sea that is not as acid as the one that your brain drags you into when Jaehyun crosses your mind. And it works, only until you decided that you can’t lose your sanity over books and essays and maybe you should find a better way to cope with this.

It’s not easy, every step you move on your own reminds you of how present Jaehyun has always been in your life. From the silliest things such as studying or buying something you needed, to the biggest and most important steps of your life.

It’s heart-wrenching, really, to imagine your future without him. The graduation you planned won’t be the same, the holiday you longed for so much after that won’t probably even exist, and there won’t be nights up spent together trying to navigate the job world. And when your mind wonders further you realize there will be no wedding day, even when you would’ve found the right person for you, the one that can truly take that place in your heart and push Jaehyun out of there, he won’t be there, by your side, being your man of honor. And you won’t be at his, and now it sounds better like this, but with time, knowing you would’ve moved on from him, it only brings a lingering pain in your chest.

You miss him.

You miss yourself with him.

Because even after a few weeks when you decided to go out, sign in some college clubs to make new friends, and you do, you find a group of people you like, you still can’t be your true self like you were with him. They wouldn’t get you, there are high possibilities they might even find you weird, with your random singing and dancing, and your silly faces to make him laugh, or the started conversation in the middle of another one even if they weren’t related at all. There are so many more sides of you they would never understand. And you can only be yourself in the four walls of your room, but even there, you feel like you’re hard to find.

Time passes by and you feel like you’re doing better. You finally found your place in the world without him, taking time to focus on your passions, your studies, and new people that are slowly making you feel understood.

You barely see Jaehyun anymore, let alone interact with him. When you cross in the corridors or in class you ignore him just as much as he ignores you. Well, at least you try to, because you feel that if you stare for too long you will fall in the same hole you got yourself out of with difficulty.

And you succeed until the holiday approach and you feel just a bit lonelier, you can’t help but think back at the times you spent together, afternoons spent walking around town to see the decorated shops and city’s lights, or drinking hot chocolate together while you studied the last things before the winter break, or how his mother would video call as a coincidence all the time when he was in the bathroom and you two would end up talking more than them.

But you learned how to sigh and shrug those thoughts away, coming to terms with the fact that you will always miss the feeling of home he meant for you.

But it still hurts, not like before, but it’s still there, when your eyes linger on him and his arm wrapped around her in some classes you share, or when you barge into them outside, his head laying against hers, or her eyes looking up at him while her nose scrunches and he kisses that playful pout away.

It’s an annoying type of pain, it’s not even love anymore, or at least you try to convince yourself, it’s like when you feel the need to scratch a part of your body you just can’t scratch, that’s what Jaehyun is, a part you will have to carry with you forever, even if he’s not part of your life anymore, because he will always be a part of you.

But you’re doing fine.

You truly are.

It simply gets heavy at times to carry that dead weight around, but you are light. There’s a bright future waiting for you, and you’re hopeful you won’t be alone with your new friends supporting you and distracting you when sometimes your brain decides to sabotage you.

But you’re still moving on with your life, small steps taking you further on the road every day. Well, that’s it until one morning you open the door to find Jaehyun standing there with his same old brown jacket, ruined shoes and the same, somehow still familiar, face.

“What are you doing here?” Is the only thing your brain manages to formulate, it’s not a harsh question, there’s not even hesitation in your voice, you’re just genuinely surprised.

“Can we talk?” He asks, moving his weight side to side on his feet.

So a few minutes later you are sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee in front of you and silence fills the room with a weird atmosphere. You don’t think it’s awkward, but it’s not even as comfortable as the silence between you two used to be. Anyway, you can’t keep this going for much longer, you’re not used to having him so close, you can still faintly make out his scent that now is surely mixed with hers, and that brings back too many memories you’re not sure you want to revive right there.

“So? Do you need something? Or maybe something happened?”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer right away, he sighs, nervously tapping his feet on the floor and playing with his thumbs before he turns around to look at you.

“I know why you wanted us to stop being friends, and I respect that. I didn’t react in the best way but I was surprised and mad, I won’t lie, I know I pushed you away but back then I still had you, and when you decided to cut me off I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I had to do it,” you say, crossing your legs and studying his expression, he’s barely making eye contact with you, gaze moving around to room to find words he probably doesn’t even know.

“I know,” he hums, lowering his head. “But I miss you. And I… I’d like to at least be friends again but I also respect if you don’t want to, maybe you still love m –”

“No,” you stop him, “I don’t… I liked you, at least I think so.”

“Is there really a difference?”

“Yeah, the latter should be less painful.”

“Was it?”

You raise your gaze, locking eyes with him, and when you still feel a striking pain in your heart, you deny it with a movement of your head. “But I don’t love you anymore,” you still add. It’s true. You miss him, but that’s a different feeling.

“So… can we be friends again? I promise I’ll make up time with you. I was so caught up in her that I just… I didn’t notice you were slipping out of my mind.”

You hum, shaking your head and scratching your neck. “It’s fine, it was in the past.”

“Yeah, but I hurt you.”

“I’m fine, Jae. It doesn’t matter.” Or it does, but is there something you can do to fix it? You can’t turn back around.

He nods, drifting his gaze away again and you know he’s waiting for an answer you’re not sure you can give him. Not right on the spot. It’s true that you want him back, but you’re not sure taking him back won’t break you down again.

“I need to think about it,” you whisper after a few minutes, watching his eyes drop, that wasn’t the answer he wanted, but you have to put yourself first. If there was something that this taught you was that lesson. After all, you were always going to have yourself and not anybody else.

“My mother says hi,” you say while pushing your phone back into your pocket and start to walk back to Jaehyun’s side.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I last heard from her,” he replies, a small smile curls his lips as he keeps moving next to you to reach the closest cafe.

Yes, after a week or more of asking yourself the same question you were able to make a decision and take him back. You had set some rules, telling him that you needed time, and maybe sometimes you would’ve needed time to yourself, but Jaehyun understood, after all, you two were always the same, even if you changed, even if you drifted apart, he was still the only one that knew you so deeply and vice versa.

So, it started slowly, allowing each other to text, not as often as you used to do, not with the same tone or conversations of your old texts, but it was something. After a while, he started sitting close to you during some lessons, not always, and not only because he wanted to be with her, but also because you didn’t want to have him that close again. You still needed time, and even if you got back together you could feel it wasn’t the same as before. You don’t talk about the future anymore, and the few times some doubts spill out you two are never in each other’s plans. You don’t rest your head on his shoulder anymore, not that one night you decided to watch a movie together, not the few times you sit next to each other in class. You don’t poke his cheeks, burying your finger in his dimple. You don’t change in front of each other anymore. You don’t go grocery shopping together. You don’t spend nights up rewatching your favorite series.

And you are terrified that with time you wouldn’t have recognized not even a small piece of him. But you let that in the future, deciding to focus on the present, and on yourself.

You are fine, you found yourself again, and you had Jaehyun in your life.

Nothing is as before, you used to be home to each other, different sides of the same coin, partners in life, and now, you’re just standing there, side by side, an invisible line separating you.

In strangers’ eyes you two look just fine, like any other friends would appear, but to you, in your heart, you’re as close as strangers.

I hope you liked it, if you did please leave feedback is always appreciated! ♡

#nct fanfiction #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #jeong jaehyun angst #jeong jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #nct angst #nct fluff #requests

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whumpsoda · 5 months

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vampire whumper puts whumpee in a strightjacket. But they're now so enthralled. That the straight jacket feel like a hug from them. so they fall asleep

WOHEO Masterlist

Loved this, dunno if I did it justice but it was definitely enjoyable to imagine!!

Anyways I need sleep

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

cw: hypnosis, restraints

———————————————————————

“Get-! Get offa’ me! Let me go!” Malak thrashed against the restraints, while desperately trying to shake off the vampire’s grip on his limbs.

Adrastus sighed disappointedly, shaking their head. “You are in no spot to make such demands after the stunt you just pulled.” They made the last of the adjustments to Malak’s newest punishment, a difficult task when he refused to calm himself. “So, so naughty. This is what happens when you try running from Master.”

Malak wrestled with the confines of his straight jacket prison, to no avail. Adrastus looked him over, a saddened expression plastered across their face. “Maybe you’ll finally learn from your mistakes. I can’t believe you would do such a thing.” They stroked a finger down their captive’s cheek, which he quickly rejected.

They sighed. “I’ve treated you so well, and all I’ve gotten in return is malice. All the love I’ve shown you, and this is what I get? Bad boy.” They wagged their finger in front of his face, which only flushed with a mix of anger, anxiety and embarrassment. “I do suppose it’ll all be over soon, though, once you’ve finally succumbed to your fate of being an eager little pet.”

“I’m not- I’m not your fucking pet! Let! Me! Go!” He wailed, still jerking about on the floor.

Adrastus just laughed, a hint of anger present themself. “How foolish you are,” they pushed to their feet with a grunt. “I’ll leave you here to think about what you’ve done. Bye bye, my dear.”

Malak followed them with darting eyes as they sauntered to the door, before exiting with a condescending grin. “Take this off me! Let-! I need-! Please!” The vampire either didn’t hear him, or simply didn’t care.

He slumped against the wall behind him with a huff, his sweat tainted hair sticking to the plaster. Malak took in ragged breaths, worn from his short lived escape attempt and countless shrieks.

A concoction of both fear and fury bubbled in his stomach, exiting through several more enraged hollers. “Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” Each repetition scratched at his throat, running it red and raw.

His vision started blurring with salty moisture as he shouted, his head swaying along. “F- f- fuck, fuck you!” Ignoring better judgement he continued his tirade, disorder scattering his thoughts.

With each following word, his tongue grew heavy, his voice like a slurry weighing it down. “Fuck, um, let… um, let me… um…” In an instant his eyes grew glassy, and his brain confusingly slow.

With his thoughts so distant, his voice died right in his throat. Why was he yelling again? Good boys weren’t supposed to yell, Master said so.

“Ah-!” Malak jumped as his muscles convulsed, sending the back of his head bashing into the wall behind him. Lurching in pain, his eyes grew wide and alive, his psyche returning in a rush of cognition. With a strung out groan, he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. A stray tear dribbled to his chin.

It was happening more and more often. Moments where he was pulled from reality, his perception twisted and molded by the second, succumbing to countless nights of patient conditioning. Forcing him to think and believe things the vampire wanted him too. As horrified as he was to admit it, Adrastus’ modifications were definitely working in their favor.

And it all happened so fast, his mind buckled so quickly it was difficult to stop. If Malak didn’t escape soon, he’d be like that forever.

Stupid and eager to please, confused with a cotton filled head. Obedient and docile, malleable and… compliant.

Dutiful… and trained.

Warm and loved and cherished.

He shook and writhed, pounding his restrained limbs upon the hardwood floor. “Get out of my head!” He shrieked, wriggling and flailing.

With each tug and fight on the fabric restraining him, it almost felt as if the jacket was growing tighter. Almost like arms wrapping him in a warm, tender hug.

A strange sound of guttural fear and anger escaped his lips at the thought, as he began rolling and fighting with less and less spirit. With each thrust of his limbs a silver chain holding his legs rattled and skid across the wood. Gathering all of the strength he had, Malak beat his flesh against the solid flooring, agony searing into his bones.

Again, again, again, until he physically couldn’t anymore. He collapsed in a pile of anguish, choking back livid sobs and fat tears.

Why him? What had he ever done to deserve being plucked from his home by a blood sucking monster? One so adamant on turning his brain to mush?

The snug embrace that enveloped him was his tired body’s only comfort in the moment, cuddling him genially. Malak nuzzled into it, clawing for the slightest of consolement.

He allowed the easement to take advantage of him, desperate for any sort of solace. Carefully, his breaths evened and relaxed with the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he swallowed his dismay. His lip quivered ever so slightly, while his eyelids grew heavy.

Would it… be so bad to give in?

The thought snuck in, but this time He didn’t shake it away.

Just this once? Everything hurt, he was so exhausted and weary, and the jacket was almost like a pillowy blanket. Why should he deny himself the cozyness and only make himself feel worse?

Just this once. He could fight back again tomorrow, couldn’t he?

Content with his sound reasoning, Malak allowed his lids to flutter to a close. After such an intense struggle the embrace was so heavenly to give in to, and he couldn’t help but smile, just a bit.

#asks :)#my writing #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #mind control whump #hypnosis whump #vampire whumper #hypnosis #conditioning whump #conditioned whumpee #Malak oc #Adrastus oc #we only have each other

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subwaysurf45 · 1 year

Note

This is based off reality lol but my partner has adhd so sometimes they forget to text me/contact me and it sends me into a shame spiral because my mom used to ignore me for days when I was a kid whenever she felt upset about anything (I mean she still cries it but I am an adult now so I’ve learned to live with it) but anyway it really traumatized me because now when people g hours without responding I immediately assume it was my fault and I dive into fix it mode (even if I did nothing wrong). So idk maybe you could do something where Bucky forgets to text reader about something and reader immediately panics and freaks out because ✨trauma✨

babe, I got you. thank you for the ask, I totally know what you mean. I have many friends who forget to answer my texts and you can't help but think they are mad at you, I fully understand. I hope this does what you are feeling justice.

A/N: there are a few time jumps, I hope it's not too confusing!

So many years ago…

“Mom!” you screamed from outside her door, sitting on your knees while tears streaked down your face.

She had hit the new record for how many days gone without speaking to you; three was the new record. You had forgotten what you had done but your mother definitely did not, she was an elephant with her memory.

You were invisible to her, she walked right past you with nothing to say. There was seemingly nothing you could do except wait it out, but you needed your mother, you wanted her comfort. As hard as you banged against her door, as loud as you screamed, as hard as you cried; she did nothing.

It was always the worst when you accepted defeat and headed off to your room, contemplating how you would punish yourself because obviously you had done something very wrong. There were times when you’d punch your own thigh, maybe scratch along your collar where the skin was thin, anything to continue the punishment.

There had been times when she’d catch the bruises on your legs, immediately giving up the act to get you the bag of frozen peas. Everytime you thought it was over, you really thought she’d continuously love you. But then you’d forget to unpack the dishwasher or say something under your breath after an argument; and the cycle would repeat.

Present Day...

“Bye, love,” you whispered and leaned up to kiss Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck as he placed his gentle hands on your hips. His roommates were in the next room so you needed to be quick and quiet, no one needed to know about your kissing.

“Text me when you get back to your place, yes?” Bucky muttered before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your collarbone, softly pulling the collar of your shirt with it, pressing a loving kiss to the mark that was blooming.

You grew coy, “of course,” you whispered as you fiddled with the hem of his shirt, “bye,” you said at the last moment with your head still poking in the door. Bucky stood there and waved, when the door closed you headed down to your car and headed home.

There was something about Bucky that was unlike any of the other guys you got close with, there was something so pure about him; even though he wasn’t all the time. On your first date he got you flowers and the next date you got him a bouquet. All the boys in the house laughed but after putting them in a vase and getting into his car you saw a tear roll down his cheek, just one before he swiped it away.

He has one of the flowers pressed and in a frame sitting on his bedside table.

There was an immediate uplift in your life after meeting Bucky, something to look forward to every morning with his texts and always feeling secure. You knew he was your guy, you no longer needed to suss out your mother before calling her to rant. Sometimes she was in a bad mood and would hang up on you, or even worse, sigh loudly until you got the hint. But if Bucky didn’t have time for a phone call he’d stop by on his way home from work or class, just checking in and then either picking you up or stealing a quick kiss before heading home.

You looked after one another because both of you wanted to see each other happy, there was never a moment of malice between you two, just uplifting spirits.

That wasn’t to say you were always perfect, there had been big fights and big emotions. But with Bucky, he sat down and talked about them, maybe after taking a walk so he wouldn’t scream in anger, but there would always be a drive to fix things and not let them linger.

It took many relationships and friendships to realize your mother did a number on you, what you thought was normal raised a few brows; especially Bucky.

“Babe,” Bucky said in his bed, sitting up against the headboard, “that’s fine,” he patted your butt. You were laying on your stomach and trying not to look at him.

“But you…” you sighed, “we were-...” you sighed again.

Bucky leaned over so you had to look at him, “I was in the mood last night- both of us were -and we had fun, even though I’m fine with something doesn’t mean you have to be as well.” it didn’t look like you believed him, Bucky chuckled and laid right behind you, “I don’t know what it’s like to be a woman and have period sex, babe, I don’t,” you cracked a smile, “just because I offer to lay down a towel doesn’t mean you have to agree, alright?”

“But I feel bad,” you whispered, “but I also don’t like how messy it gets and I was tired because my iron level drops so bad and-”

“And there’s our answer,” Bucky giggled, “remember: we both have to agree, don’t just follow along, alright?”

“Sure,” you whispered. Bucky obviously didn’t think that was good enough, so he tickled you until you were screaming in agreement, the most enthusiastic alright.

When you got home you trudged up the stairs and laid on your bed, sending Bucky a text that you got home.

You: got home perfectly fine, I did in fact almost hit a bunny but it ran out of the way

Bucky: seriously, you gotta be more alert

You: I know I was paying attention but it just came out of nowhere

Fixing your pillow, you sat up and stared at your phone. The typing bubble hadn’t even popped up yet, you needed him to know you were driving safe. With the extra time now you re-read his text, you immediately read it like he was chastising you. Giving you pointers because he felt you were a bad driver.

You wanted him to answer, so he knew you knew you needed to be safe. As you sat there the gears in your brain began to spin, you shouldn’t be this tied to your phone, it’s unhealthy. Don’t be a clingy girlfriend, he’s not actually mad at you.

You began to type again: babe? But you quickly deleted it.

You sat for a moment: did I do something? That was too pathetic.

Maybe a different angle: I bet that bunny is off with its family right now, having the time of its life. But even that was a little much, you could easily come across as rude.

Instead you placed your phone to the side and tried to think back, was there something you did that pissed him off? Maybe he was just annoyed with something else and took it out on you. You could barely sit with yourself, this needed to get fixed. You couldn’t leave him mad at you for too long, he’d leave you.

The thing about your mother was, she would never abandon her kid. But with Bucky, you’re just some girlfriend, easily disposable.

*****

Bucky smiled down at his phone, looking at the text you sent him. “Gotta love her,” he whispered to himself as he sat on the couch, before he could begin to type Sam poked his head in the backyard.

“Hey, need you to help with the barbeque,” Sam waved him outside.

Bucky threw his phone beside him on the couch, “who’s grilling tonight?”

“You,” Sam smirked, “you always do them so well."

Steve was already out there, there was something wrong with the propane tank. All three of them used google and youtube to figure out why the tank wasn’t fitting in the BBQ, they had the same tank as last time but something wasn’t connecting.

“There isn’t even a hiss when you start it up,” Bucky said as he fiddled with the switch, “that’s so weird, man,” Bucky scratched the side of his head.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” Sam muttered to himself, “if we don’t get this figured out soon, I’m fucking ordering in again and I don’t care how much it costs.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Steve nodded as he crouched down to try and come up with a solution.

Though it took a while, they managed to hook up the new tank all by themselves. Bucky now stood by the grill, one hand on the bar on the lid, and watched the timer hit zero. The smell was amazing when he opened the top, feeling the hot steam escape after building up. Steve and Sam were inside, cutting up tomatoes and other toppings to put on their burgers.

“Hey, bud,” Sam called from the screen door, “your girl is blowing up your phone.”

Bucky turned around, “pass it over,” he flipped the last patty and walked over. Immediately, his heart sank as he saw the spammed texts and calls that were coming from you. The most recent text covered the others on his lock screen: I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry I made you upset.

“What?” he whispered to himself, clicking on the notification to see the others in their text chain.

You: Babe?

You: the bunny is okay and so am I

You: are you mad?

You: I know you think this is so pathetic but the text you sent sounded like you were mad and I want things to be okay if your mad but also I’m freaking out over nothing because you probably aren’t

You: right?

You: please pick up the phone

You: Bucky I’m losing my fucking mind, please don’t shut me out if you’re upset, please

You: please

You: okay

You: I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry I made you upset.

Before Bucky could do anything, he was frozen as he stared at the typing bubble that popped up. When the text came through his heart cracked to pieces, it felt like he was dying.

You: I’ve been bad and I deserve it

“Boys!” Bucky called from outside, Sam and Steve both ran out. “Something wrong with y/n, I need to go to her house, I’m sorry, someone’s gotta watch this right now.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve had never seen Bucky more stressed out in his life, watching as he basically tugged his hair out.

“She’s-” Bucky held out his phone, “look at this.”

Sam was the one to take the phone, “dude,” he looked up at Bucky, “you sounded mad at the last text you sent, the ‘seriously’ doesn’t help and then-”

“Holy shit,” Bucky snatched the phone from Sam’s hands and ran to the door to get into the backyard from the side of the house, fishing for keys as he got to his truck.

You sat on the edge of your bed, Bucky beside you. “you-I don’t want you to meet my mom.”

“Why?” Bucky rubbed your back, you looked so sad as you sat beside him, rubbing your wrist raw with anxiety. “I’m sure she’s not as bad as you think.”

“No,” you shook your head, “she just messed me up,” you looked up at Bucky who was shaking his head, silently saying you aren’t messed up. “She would ignore me for days on end, I wouldn’t know if I was getting fed or dropped off at school somedays, and I was like seven. I-” you choked on your words, leaning into Bucky’s side as he kissed the top of your head, “I just always assume people are always mad at me- especially if I get ignored because I’m so used to it.”

“That’s why you don’t want me to meet her?” Bucky whispered.

“She doesn’t deserve to meet you,” you mumbled while you looked at the floor, “she’s in the past and I don’t want my present and past to mix.”

Bucky nodded and planted a few more kisses on the top of your head, “I’ll always be here, I’ll always be in the present.”

No speed limit mattered in this moment, the university kids crossing the street were perfectly timed. It was like the universe knew Bucky needed to get somewhere, all the lights were green and no one got in his way. When he parked in the driveway to your off campus apartment complex he almost forgot to turn off the car, he was sprinting out of there.

He had a key to your place, you had a key to his.

“y/n?” he bursted through the door, not hearing a single sound. He found you in your room, sobbing under the covers, you didn’t even hear him come in. “baby,” he whispered and quickly hugged you from outside the covers, making you jolt away from him. “It’s just me, I’m not mad, I promise, come here.”

“You’re not?” you coughed out, looking over your shoulder at him.

“I was about to text you back and then Sam needed my help with the barbeque and I forgot about it so quickly, you know how I get with that.”

“I do,” you nodded.

“And I was in charge of the burgers so I was outside, away from my phone- jesus, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered and got under the covers, “it just slipped my mind, I didn’t mean to give you the silent treatment, I really didn’t.”

“Deep down I knew you were busy but then I just…” you sighed and looked away, “I fed into my thoughts, what I knew since I was a kid: getting ignored is-”

“I know,” Bucky kissed your temple, “don’t feel bad you went back to what you knew, anyone would do that, I’m just so sorry,” he held you tightly, kissing all around your head, “that text meant to be funny but it so wasn’t and I’m so sorry, but I’m not mad- all you need to know is that I’m not mad at all,” he felt you nod, “all one misunderstanding that really hurt you.”

“I forgive you,” you flipped around to face him, “I’m just so mad I let her win again, I thought I was over this.”

“I forgot to text you back for a long time,” Bucky brushed the hair out of your face, “you can only go so long and that’s normal, babe, totally normal.” You used his shirt to wipe the tears off of your face, “you don’t need to feel any shame or any embarrassment, alright?”

“But I do,” the tears came back again but Bucky was quick to soothe them. He held you close and continuously whispered in your ear sweet nothing, making you feel loved. After a while you believed him, he wasn’t mad at you, and you leaned into his touch.

“The only thing you deserve,” Bucky cupped your face to make you look at him, “is to be loved and listened to, alright?”

You nodded, a smile gracing your lips for the first time in what felt like days, “alright.”

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shittyassffblog · 8 months

Text

Free Bird - Part 4

Hey it's been a few days but here is part 4! No smut in this I'm afraid but next chapter....o boy. Anyways, hope you all enjoy and tell me if you want on a taglist I'd be happy to make one <3 love y'all <3

Warnings: None

Part 3

A few days had passed since you saw Noah. He was busy with practicing for the next leg of the tour and you were busy at work so your paths just hadn’t crossed for a few days. You also tried to take a little bit of distance from Noah, you were scared of what you felt for him. You had always loved Noah, sure, but this was different. This was real, and it scared the shit out of you.

You were in your car on the way home when you heard a familiar melody on the radio.

I made another mistake

Thought I could change

Thought I could make it out

Promises break

Need to hear you say

You’re gonna keep it now

You thought about texting Noah, but before you could, right as you parked, your phone started ringing. You picked it up and Noah’s face filled up your whole screen. He was FaceTime-ing you. You hesitated to accept it, but decided to do it.

“Hi pretty.” Noah said smiling tiredly. He was lying in his bed, the sheets changed from when you were there. You smiled back.

“Hi handsome.” You said and he grinned at that.

“I have a question for you. And you can say no, but I need to ask you.” Noah said and your heart started racing. What could he want to ask you?

“Okay, what is it?” You asked him and he sat up properly.

“I wanna take you out.” He stated. You paused for a moment.

“As in a date or as in of life? Also that's a statement not a question. ” You asked and he laughed.

“Well now that you're annoying about it it's both” He said and you laughed too.

“What are you thinking?” You asked and he shushed you.

“Don’t you worry about anything, just be ready tomorrow at 6. Deal?” He demanded. You didn’t mind this side of his.

“Alright deal. Do I dress nice or casual?” You asked and he thought for a second.

“You can dress nice, be better than how you’re looking now.” He grinned mischievously.

“Rude! Alright you’ll see, Sebastian. You’ll see.” You pointed at him in warning. He laughed and scratched his head.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. 6 pm sharp!” He pointed out and you saluted him.

“Yessir.” You yelled.

“Oh I like that, bring that energy tomorrow.” He winked and you blushed.

“Who says you’re getting any? Depends how good the date is.” You said and he smiled.

“I’ll have to do my very best then.” He said and you smiled at that.

“Alright im gonna go shower. Bye.” You said and he pulled his phone all the way up close to his face.

“Bye bitch.” He said in a funny voice and hung up. You laughed to yourself. Maybe you didn’t have that much to worry about when it came to your feelings for him after all?

---

The next day your entire wardrobe was on the floor of you room. You had absolutely NOTHING to wear and it was stressing you out so much. It was only 2 pm so decided to run out to your car and get yourself some new clothes. You wanted to look your absolute best for your date with Noah tonight.

When you arrived at the mall you, admittedly, went a little crazy. You maybe have bought a little too much than what you needed, but hey, then at least you had options.

You went into the bathroom and did your hair and make up, then went back to the living room to get your bags of new clothes and went back to the bedroom so you could plan out your outfit. Before long it was 5:30 pm and you were just about ready for your date. You decided to clean up the mess you had made in your room, and when all your clothes were back in the closet and your floor was finally visible again, you heard a knock on your door. You checked your watch, 5:59 pm, right on time.

You ran to open the door. When you did, Noah was stood, wearing a black button up shirt that was unbuttoned so you could see his a bit of his chest tattoo and in his hand he was holding the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen.

“Oh my god Noah, you didn’t have to do this.” You said as you grabbed the flowers and hugged him. He chuckled and hugged you back. He smelled amazing, and you had to stop yourself from clinging onto him.

“‘Course I did, I’m trying to woo you.” He said and you giggled. You locked eyes for a second before you turned around to put the flowers in water. As you were cutting the stems, Noah leaned on the back of your couch and crossed his arms. His sleeves were rolled up so his tattoos were on display. The way his shirt was hugging his figure was driving you insane.

When the flowers were in water you placed the vase on your dining table and turned towards Noah. He looked you up and down, then pushed himself off the couch and walked towards you. You got very nervous suddenly.

“You look beautiful.” Noah said and you looked down, blush creeping across your cheeks. He held your waist with one hand and lifted your chin with the other, making you look at him. He smiled slightly at you, your breathing mixing in the most intoxicating way.

“I mean it.” He said and you closed your eyes. You felt the slightest ghost of his lips on yours and your heart started beating faster. Before you could comprehend what was happening he pulled away, leaving you confused and yearning for his lips.

“We gotta get going sweets, lots of plans for us.” Noah said, and you blinked. He grabbed your jacket and opened it for you, ready to help you but it on. You smiled as you brushed off the dazed feeling and let him put on your jacket for you.

You walked out to Noah's car and he opened the door for you. You smiled as you got in, making sure everything was inside of the car and Noah closed the door. He jogged over to his own side and got in, then smiled over at you as he started the car. He put on some music he knew you loved and drove out onto the main road.

As you were looking out the window, you felt Noah's hand on your thigh. Not too high up, it was just there. You looked at it and then at him, and he was looking at the road with a small smile on his face. You matched his expression as you looked back out of the window.

After driving for a while, you pulled up into a restaurant. You had never been here before, but it looked Italian.

"Wait here." Noah said and you complied. He ran over to your side of the car and opened it for you, taking your hand to help you out of the car. As you got out, he tugged slightly on you hand, leaning in close to your ear.

"Good girl." He whispered, smirking at you when you blushed. He locked the car and wrapped a hand around your waist, leading you to the front door. He opened it for you and you walked to the hostess stand.

"Good evening, do you have a reservation?" The woman asked, and Noah nodded.

"Yeah under Noah Sebastian." He said and you smiled at him, then back at the woman.

"Of course Mr. Sebastian, right this way." She said, smiling and leading you to your table. It was off to the side of the restaurant, kind of hidden but now too close to the kitchen either, it was just perfect.

"There you go, a waitress will be right with you, here are your menus. Enjoy!" She said and both thanked her. You looked over the menu and everything looked amazing.

"God this all looks so good, what are you getting?" You asked and Noah hummed.

"'I really don't know, this is so hard." He said and you giggled a little.

"Oh real mature Y/N, your mind is so dirty!" Noah exclaimed and you laughed. The waitress came over soon after to take your order.

"I'm thinking the fettuccine and then maybe a Sex On The Beach. Can I have a water with lime on the side?" You asked and the waitress nodded.

"And you sir?" She asked, and Noah closed his menu.

"That sounds good, I'll have the same." He said, smiling at you, then looking at the waitress. She wrote it down and smiled at you both as she took your menus. She walked away and you and Noah looked at each other.

"So...what made you want to take me on this date?" You asked and he smiled.

"I didn't wanna go back to normal." He said simply, and you blushed. You held his hand and his thumb stroked the backside of your hand.

"Good. Me neither." You said and he smiled brightly. You were kind of lost in each other when the food arrived and you split apart to let the waiter put down the food in front of you.

As you ate you talked about what you had been up to the last few days.

"Yeah so Jolly and I had this huge fight cause I wanted to release it as a single, and he wanted it to be a deluxe only track, but we figured it out." Noah explained and you nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me? You always call men after you fight with Jolly." You asked. He squinted his eyes at you as if to contemplate if he should say the truth or not.

"I uhm...I didn't know if you wanted to talk to me." He said and you furrowed your brow. He kept explaining.

"Well you left kind of in a hurry while I took a shower the other day and I didn't know if I had like crossed a line or whatever, so I wanted to give you space. But after three days I couldn't handle it anymore so I just called you." Noah said looking down at his food and taking a sip of his drink.

"Oh well I just uhm. I didn't know if you wanted me there anymore. I think it was just my brain overthinking but after you said that stuff in the morning it just seemed a little like it was time to leave." You said, not meeting his eyes.

"Oh honey no, absolutely not! If it was up to me I would be in your company 24/7, I think we just misunderstood each other. I would never want you to leave are you kidding?" Noah said as he reached out for your hand. You smiled at him and giggled a little at the silliness of it all.

You both finished your food and Noah paid, leaving a big tip for the waiter and then led you out of the restaurant. Again he opened the car door for you and helped you inside before getting in himself.

"Where are we going now?" You asked and he chuckled.

"You really don't know what the word surprise means, do you?" He asked and you laughed.

"I'm just curious! I don't know how much you have planned!" You exclaimed as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Don't worry your pretty head about that. Alright I'll give you a hint, we're gonna drive for about 10 minutes now. You just sit there and look pretty, maybe pick some better music." He said, nodding his head at the radio. You connected your phone to the bluetooth and but on a playlist of your favourite music.

You arrived at what looked like a mini golf place and your body filled with excitement.

"Are we playing mini golf?" You all but screamed and he laughed.

"Yeah princess, we're playing mini golf." He said as he helped you out of the car. You jumped in excitement and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around you and you looked at him with a sparkle in your eyes.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" He said and you squeeked as you pulled him along to the entrance. Noah paid for your clubs and you wen along to the first hole.

You completely felt like you were in a movie, Noah treating you with the absolute utmost respect and giving you the Princess Treatment. The thing was, you were waiting for something to go wrong. Chase had really messed with your perception of peoples intentions and even when it was your very best friend in the entire world, it still felt like he was lying in some way. You played a few holes without saying anything and Noah noticed. You had reach an area where there was a bench that was little secluded so Noah pulled you over there. You sat down and he had an arm around you.

"What's going in in that pretty head of yours?" He asked and you sighed.

"It's nothing, I'm probably just being crazy." You said, picking at your nails.

"That's a little extreme don't you think? What are you thinking about? You're so quiet." He said, running his hand along your arm.

"Well...I think I just feel like you're overcompensating kind of." You said quietly and he didn't say anything. You squirmed in your seat, very uncomfortable. You had definitely just said the wrong thing and hurt his feelings and you were already trying to come up with a plan to get an Uber home.

"It makes me sad you would think that, because I've been trying to show you how you're supposed to be treated." Noah said, looking at you. You didn't dare look at him.

"I'm sorry." You said with a shaky breath and Noah pulled you close.

"Don't you dare apologise, this is not your fault. I know he beat you down emotionally and I know it doesn't take just a cute mini golf date to fix that, but I wanna try. I really care about you, I would like to see you in a more romantic way, and whatever you need if it's reassurance or something else I wanna give that to you. Are you okay with that?" He asked and you felt tears brimming your eyes.

He spoke with a softness you had never experienced before. You had always liked it when he talks but this was something else entirely, this made you calm down inside, made you believe everything he said.

"Yes I'm okay with that." You said, voice cracking. He hugged you closer. You looked up and him and he wiped away a tear that had spilled.

"You really wanna date me?" You asked and he nodded smiling widely.

"Yes, more than anything." He said and you hugged him. He chuckled at you eagerness.

"I take it you feel the same?" He asked with a laugh. You nodded vigorously and he pulled away a little and grabbed your chin.

"Kiss me then." He said and your eyes widened. You realised how close you were to his face, his fingers tugging you closer. His eyes focusing on your lips. You leaned in closer, the ghost of his lips making electricity run through you. He looked you in the eyes again and you licked your lips, suddenly feeling like the driest you've ever felt. He leaned in the rest of the way and you lips connected.

You had kissed before, obviously. But this was different. This had meaning. This was the step over the line you had been worried of crossing. This you couldn't take back. And god help you, you never wanted to either.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens band #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction

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