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mediumgayitalian · 22 days

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“What are your parameters for loving me?”

Careful to keep her head locked forward, Naomi glances over at her son. Will’s picked-bloody fingernails scrabble at the worn bandage around his wrist, twisting until his knuckles turn white. The car shakes with his violently bouncing leg, out of time with the shuddering engine and rumbling dust roads under the wheels.

“There aren’t any.”

“There have to be — some.” The bandage is longer than she thought, unspooled in his lap. He winds it back up again quickly, hands blurring; darting around his wrist, tapping on his knees, flexing and locking, flexing and locking. “I mean, what if I became a misogynist?”

She snorts. “I think you’re good, honey.”

“No, Mom, what if? Think about it for real. You’d stop loving me, right?”

“I might knock you around a bit, but it’d pretty hard to stop loving you completely,” she teases. She pinches the stubbornly-clinging baby fat of his cheeks between her knuckles, ruffling his hair when he ducks away.

“Seriously, Mama.”

“I dunno, Will. I’d send you to work for your Auntie Di for a while, probably. Reckon she’d straighten you out good.”

“Okay.” He nods, twice to himself, chewing on his lip. The bandage is wrapped around his elbow, now, pulled tight enough that she can hear the groan of his joints. “Okay. What if I killed someone?”

“Be a pretty hefty secret for the two of us.”

“An innocent person. Cold blood, just because I wanted to.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could, Mom. People are — unpredictable.” He picks at a hole in his shorts until it’s wide enough to slide three fingers through, pulling the bandage in after them. It looks yellowed next to the green of the fabric, worn. “Sometimes you think you know someone but you don’t.”

“I know you.”

She pushes on her turn signal, slowing to a near stop. Will’s twitching fingers unconsciously synch up, cri-tap, cri-tap, cri-tap. The rusted rims groan as her tires amble around the bend, quieting as she lurches forward. They both duck as she hits a pothole, narrowly avoiding the warped ceiling.

“Cold blood, Mama.”

“I’d — it would scare me, I guess.” The next few potholes are smaller — she can avoid them with some manoeuvring. A mouse darts out onto the road, rushing out from the surrounding cornfields, and she slams on the break, thrusting her arm out to the passenger side. Will’s hands come to cup over her forearm as he slams into it, grunting softly. The mouse sprints across the rest of the road, tail swishing behind it, disappearing into the stalks. She settles back into her seat, brushing across Will’s seatbelt as she does, and presses the gas again. “More for you than of you. For what would happen if someone came knocking.”

“You wouldn’t report it?”

“No I wouldn’t report it, Will, Jesus.”

“But I — but I did something evil.”

“This is a hypothetical, baby.”

“And in the hypothetical. You’re —” He scrubs his hand down his face, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re a good person. You have — morals.”

“I’m a person, Will.” The GPS beeps at her — twenty-five miles to the Tennessee border. “And I’m a mother before that.”

“So if I — you would just — just like that? You’d — forgive me?”

“I’d love you,” she corrects.

“But you wouldn’t forgive me.”

She shrugs. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“So how do you know you’d still love me?”

“Because there’s nothing you could do, baby. I mean it.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even if I was a bully? Or a landlord? Or if I — liked boys?”

He says it quickly, or tries to, but he stumbles over his words, tripping over the syllables. Naomi sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it hard.

“You would still love me, if I — if I —”

Keeping her movements steady, she removes her boot from the gas. Will glances, fast, at her tightening knuckles on the steering wheel, looking quickly away. She guides the car to the shoulder of the road, pulling into park, and kills the engine, unclipping her seatbelt and turning ninety degrees to face her son. Will crowds into the corner of the seat, hunching in on himself, shoulders tense and curling, hair failing over her lowered head.

“Oh, Will.”

His body shakes as she pulls him into her, hands trembling so bad they spasm, twitching out of the fists he makes. She shifts until both of her arms wrap tightly around her torso, ignoring the burn of the trench, tucking his forehead into her collarbone, dropping her lips to press against his temples, his cheeks, the crown of his head.

“It’s okay, baby.”

“It’s — not. I’m still, I can still —”

“Sh.” His tears drip onto her shirt, her skin. He chokes back a sob and she tightens, reflexively, pulling his whole body even closer to her, somehow, making space for his too-long legs, knees hitting his chest, feet dangling off the seat, gearshift shoved into his thigh. His chest heaves with the effort of keeping his cries locked up in his throat, hidden behind clenched teeth, squeezed shut eyes. His fingers cling onto her shirt, twisting the fabric so hard it warps. Her own fingers clutch desperately at the ridges of his spine, the inside of his elbow; squeezing, holding, bruising. His voice is rough as raw grit and reedy as pond scum, barely above a whisper.

“I like boys, Mama.”

“I heard you.” She rests her forehead on his shoulder, her own breaths shuddering. “I heard you, sweetheart.”

“I like — a boy.”

“Okay.”

“For a long time.”

Her swallow constricts her throat, shoving the air back in her lungs. How long, she cannot bring herself to ask — when was it, exactly, that he decided he could not trust her with this? When did she lose that privilege? Was it when he started protecting her from the pain in his life, or before? When he lost everyone close to him at once, or when he broke down and told her about it? When was she no longer the person he ran to when he was scared, nervous, afraid?

He used to come to her for everything.

“I love you,” she whispers, voice wet as it slides against the lump in her throat. She squeezes him again, and this time, he squeezes back, pressing his face into her skin. “Will Solace, you are what keeps me going, do you understand that? Come up here, baby, look at me.”

His eyes aren’t hers. He takes after his father, really; after his older brother once upon a time. But he speaks like she does and smiles like she does and stands like she does, and when he cries he gets that same look, like the ocean has emptied itself inside of him. She cradles both palms to his wet cheeks, thumbs pressing under his eyes, kissing his forehead, his cheekbones, wiping the tears away.

“Fifteen years long you’ve been the light of my life. I need you to understand that, Will. I have never loved anything like I love you and there will never be anyone who comes even close. There is no hypothetical, no situation, no anything that could change that. There are no parameters. None. You understand me?”

“Everything stops,” he croaks. “Everything has a limit.”

“Not me,” she says firmly. “You ain’t a baby no more, baby, but you’re gonna have to pretend for a moment that I know everything again. I am telling you that there is no boundary. And I am not giving you the option to disagree. You are my son and my sun and that’s final, Will. That’s final.”

His face crumples. She pulls him close again, sighing, letting him curl up in his lap like he’s ten years younger than he should be, instead of the ten years older he acts. She runs a hand through his knotted hair and another down his back and presses her lips to his temples, holding him every place she can reach, and rocks them, even though there’s no room to do it, humming slow and low under her breath.

“We’ll get there,” she promises, tapping a beat on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Okay?”

He nods into her neck. “Okay.” His voice is small but not cowering, thankfully; small like he’s hiding in her instead of from her. She fights the urge to sag into him, to burst into tears of her own.

“I love you, Will. No matter what and forever.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

#naomi solace love of my life #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #will solace angst #naomi solace #naomi solace & will solace #hurt/comfort #autistic will solace #coming out #my writing #fic #longpost

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luveline · 26 days

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Hellooo!! I saw your requests were open so I thought I'd ask if you could do singer/guitarist reader who fucked up on a gig (totally not self projecting here) and she like forgot some lyrics and stuff and she's just really upset and poly!marauders or really any of them comfort her

If not I totally get it and no worries!!

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1k

The best part about having more than one boyfriend is that one of them is bound to be good at something if the others aren’t. So while Remus can’t usually lift heavy things and Sirius doesn’t want to, James is more than happy to help your band pack up their things at the end of the night.

It also helps that he’s a bit of a fanboy about it. He might jokingly ask you for your autograph from time to time, but he genuinely likes talking to your bandmates about the songs you play and the equipment. You can hear him talking someone’s ear off as the other boys in the band huff and puff as they lift the amps into the back of the van.

“Why are you all silent?” Sirius asks, blowing a breath into your ear.

It’s not a very Sirius question. He sounds teasing, and his hand is playful as he pulls you into his side against the hood of his car, eyes on Remus where he chats across the car park to a friend.

You look up into his face. “M’not.”

“Ah, forgive me. I must be going deaf.”

You press your cheek to his shoulder. “You are. Hope that helps.”

“Of course it does.”

He hooks your shirt with his pinky and slides his hand onto bare skin, scratching at your tummy and ribs with short nails. “You don’t want to tell me?”

You turn further into him, hiding from his nagging questions, though you answer, because he’ll only find a way to drag it from you, and because you’d desperately like some reassurance. “I messed up really badly tonight. I ruined the set.”

“You didn’t ruin the set. You did mess up, but really badly is subjective.” Sirius looks down at you on his shoulder, his breath warming your skin, strands of his hair falling onto your face softly, you’re that close. “Everyone messes up,” he murmurs, “doesn’t mean you ruined it.”

Remus’ voice carries from a few feet away, “Where’s James?”

“He’s still helping. Our poor angel can’t use her arms, it seems.”

You and Remus wrinkle your noses simultaneously. “Her arms are fine,” he says.

“James offered,” you butt in.

“I’m joking,” Sirius says, touching his nose to your face, drawing a soft line before pulling away. He leans back casually. “It’s what people tend to do when their partners are upset.”

You needle him with your arm. “Dick.”

“You’re upset?” Remus asks.

That’s exactly why Sirius is a dick. You step away from his arm in time for Remus to stop in front of you and look you over in concern. “What’s the matter?” Remus asks.

“She’s embarrassed about forgetting the words earlier,” Sirius answers immediately.

You glare at him. He lays back against the car with an arm behind his head, grinning. Makes sense for him to be sweet and kiss you like that just to chuck you into the deep end.

“I didn’t want to say,” you mumble.

Remus sidles up to you, and he’s taking the same stance as Sirius, a teasing lightness that colours his smile as he wraps his arms around you. These boys are always hugging you.

“I don’t care if you want to say,” he murmurs, “you must tell me.” His hands clasp behind your back. “I won’t be left out.”

His face works into your neck, breath warms and tickles your skin.

He gives a scratch of kiss before he yanks away to meet your eyes. “Come on.”

“Messed up. Everyone saw. Set ruined.”

“Oh, oh,” he murmurs, “is that what you think happened?”

“Don’t be a liar,” you say.

“You forgot the words to one song. Everybody still had a good time, you looked amazing up there.” Remus leans far from you with his arms still braced behind your back, laughing as he says, “You were nearly perfect, and next time you’ll remember the embarrassment you’re feeling now and you won't forget the words.”

He kisses your cheek.

“Can we not tell James?” you ask.

“We have to.”

“I know.”

James is back sooner than you anticipated with a grin, the curls of his hair still perfect with pomade, not a drop of sweat on him. To your surprise, he doesn’t need to be told. “Oh, my girl,” he says proudly, jabbing your stomach with fake blows, “you did great! You only messed up one song!”

Remus winces, but you think perhaps James’ way of looking at it is best of all. You could’ve messed up every song you performed tonight but it was just one.

“You’re amazing,” he furthers, taking your face into both hands. “Fuck, you look amazing when you’re up there with your guitar like that. I had a dream once we were in a band together. Remus got all handsy with you–”

“Are you sure you’ve got the right man?” Sirius asks, letting Remus pull him up from the hood.

“It might’ve been me,” James concedes. “I know it’s not like me to ask for something back, but I did all that heavy lifting for you shortcake, and I’m dying for an encore.”

You’re not sure if he’s asking for something more than a show, your cheek turning hot in his hold. He encourages your face to his, his nose tapping yours up for a long, slow moving kiss, at odds with his flirtations but not his touches. His hands drag sluggishly down to your shoulders, the breath he takes on your lips like a happy sigh.

“Get off of her, pervert,” Sirius says, jostling you both apart. “We’re in public.”

“It’s just a kiss. I’m very proud of her, Sirius. She deserves a good kiss.”

You fluster in his hands.

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cieloclercs · 2 months

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what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 7/7 (read part 6 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. angsty but with a lil catharsis at the end (yes it’s a happy ending i’m too weak to keep the angst up 😔) swearing as per, your bestie and charles SCHEMING, y/n being a teenyyy bit annoying but it’s fine she’s heartbroken we accept it 😚

pairing. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. FINAL PART!! it’s been a long time coming (sorry about that sixth form’s been kicking my ass 😔) but thank you to everyone that has been interacting with this series! i love and appreciate you all sooooo much!! 🫶 anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy the finale of what would you say (if i told you i love you)? 💗

liked by charles_leclerc and 37,846 others

yourusername happier than ever 🩶

view all comments…

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yourfriend you know there’s something called taking my advice maybe you should try it sometime 😃

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leclerc_pascale ma fille pour toujours / my girl forever 💗

yourusername 🫶

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*yourusername liked this comment

charles_leclerc all i want is for you to be happy.

*charles_leclerc deleted this comment

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liked by formula1updates and 107,837 others

f1gossip BREAKING! Charles Leclerc and Y/F/N, best friend of Y/N Y/L/N spotted together in Monaco! Do we smell a backstabber? 👀

view all comments…

username YOU WHAT NOW

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username LITERALLY the switch up is insane 🫠

username yes!! first of all no one knows the full story, and second y/f/n has been nothing BUT supportive of y/n throughout this whole situation! switching up on her now is really unfair ☹️

yourfriend this is unbelievable. f1gossip you have no right to post this without any understanding of the full story.

username yourfriend stop trying to play innocent we all now you’re a fake backstabbing skank 🤮

username username if you can’t think for yourself without trusting everything the TABLOIDS tell you then just do us all a favour and shut the fuck up 🥰

yourusername

seen by charles_leclerc and 21,673 others

responses:

yourfriend thank you, y/n

liked by formula1updates and 22,736 others

f1gossip Charles Leclerc spotted with a HUGE bouquet of flowers outside Y/N Y/L/N’s apartment in Monaco! Is reconciliation on the cards? 👀

view all comments…

username OH MY GOD IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

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arthur_leclerc FINALLY

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username he’s so us

username he stans charlesy/n just as much as we do 🫶

one week later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 647,937 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername i’d say i love you too ❤️‍🩹

view all comments…

charles_leclerc thank you for giving me a second chance, mon amour ❤️

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yourfriend you’re welcome guys ☺️

arthur_leclerc DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT

arthur_leclerc ELEVEN FUCKING YEARS

arthur_leclerc I DESERVE COMPENSATION FOR EVERY TIME I’VE HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU TWO PINE OVER EACH OTHER BUT NEVER DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT

yourusername way to expose us arth 😔

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username the first picture 🥹🥹

leclerc_pascale Ma belle future fille / my beautiful future daughter 💗😉

charles_leclerc maman 🤦‍♂️

arthur_leclerc just propose already you’ve been saying you want to marry her since you were sixteen

charles_leclerc ARTHUR

yourusername CRYING 😭

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username poor charles can’t say anything without arthur exposing him 😔

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charles_leclerc absolutely not.

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username even ferrari’s a charlesy/n fan

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charles_leclerc rude??? 😒

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username ROLL THE DAMN CREDITS.

taglist: @cxcewg @incoherenciass @formula1mount @allywthsr @meabhcavanagh @driveswiftly13 @zzblooda @gaslysainz @be-your-coffee-pot @siovhanroy @hwienv @xoxozoedagyal @alireads27 @glow-ish @eviethetheatrefreak @nmw-am @buendiabebeta @laneyspaulding19 @imthebadguyyy @marialovesf1 @f1wintermoon13 @topaz125 @aundercover @sainzluvrr @sunny44 @justdreamersdream @lordperceval-16 @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @midnightappleade @remuslupinsbitch @taylorslovesswifties13 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lillianacristina @lifeless-firefly @bbygrlllllll @405rry @1655clean @drthymby @ang-26 @dhe3reads @mishaandthebrits @caitdaniels @missenclod @lovely-blackinnon @smnthnclj @sofs16 @dark-night-sky-99 @c3leste888 @christcat @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @cixrosie

thank you all so much for the love on this series! i’m going to miss it 🥲

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fictionalstorybyme · 6 months

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Jaxson is a young hot dude and he knows a bit about how some people, boys mostly are in awe of his self-proclaimed awesomeness. He was very confident from years earlier and now at age eighteen he had a new group to torture with his cunning seductive smile and friendly manner. But he always had an agenda. He scoped out the students at the beginning of classes. He would trot in everyday in outfits that were made his admirers droll. His slender body was tailor made for the classic look of jeans and sneakers. He was able to pick out the various fetishes of each of the many who adored him as he flirted easily with boys, girls and teachers. He could map out a plan to get them to fall in love with him and used that to dominate and control them as he pleased. He possessed an arrogance and knew how to show his displeasure with a single look. An example was Ryan…

He had this way of making you feel you were the only person in the room, the party, the world that counted to him. His ability to focus on you with 100% of his soul, that attention was crazy addictive. He created inside jokes that he could pass along a crowded with just his expressive eyes. It seemed every time you looked for him, he was already looking at you. Our eyes met and he winked and did a facial gesture or stick out his tongue and made me laugh. It seemed every time that I wanted to leave, he was by my side and asked me. “You wanna get something to eat (when I was hungry) or just go for a ride in his convertible. He had this sixth sense of what was going on inside my head. “Trouble with the big brother?” “Trouble with your mom?” “You can talk to me if you want, you know I’m always here. Quiet is good, too.” The thing is that he was always right. How he could tell if the situation was my big brother or my younger brother, he just read me like a book. It was really nice when i thought it was because he really cared. I had the house swept for spy shit, but nothing. He would have been the one, and i ain’t gay. But for him, I don’t know how it’d work, IF it’d work, but one thing was for sure. JAX KNEW ME KNOWS ME STILL to this VERY day. Jaxson knows me better than anybody and everybody combined.

He keeps saying it’s in my head and that, yeah he had other friends. We were in high school, after all and our job was making and being friends. TRUE! He swears to this day, I was the real deal in his mind. THE BFF. “But Ryan,” Jax said, “You know you’re not gay. I know you’re not gay. So, understand I had to have other friends. I never wanted to say this, because: If I had said, “I L❤️ VE YOU” and your mind would be be in turmoil. I knew we made a good friendship match. Maybe at the beginning I might have thought it’d be cool to have one of the premier guys that i’ve ever known and had the distinct honor and pleasure to know and be friends with convert to the other team. Girls attempt to change guys like me to be straight. Would I actually be your friend if I attempted that with you? I KNOW I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN HAPPY! Maybe for a the honeymoon period? That’s why it’s called the honeymoon period. It doesn’t last. If I had have said this earlier, Ryan, I’d never ever forgive myself. Ever! I really have always put your needs and wants ahead of mine. Always! I never wanted you to do anything just to please me and not please yourself. That’s what the people who get called that disgusting name. If loving me turned you into a fag, I’d sooner kill myself than permit that. I’m not that kind of guy who is selfish and wants to see if you’ll change teams to be with him.” “I get it, Jaxson. I really do. You are right. You never tried to convert me or suggest i experiment to be sure. But why didn’t you tell me that so i could shield myself from the eventual pain and suffering?”

“For the same reason you didn’t tell me you were certain you were straight, Ryan. I didn’t know for sure just like you didn’t know for sure.” Ryan nodded and agreed, allowing all the rage and anger to dissipate and desolve into the either. “ONE THING WE DID KNOW FOR SURE!” Jaxson said. “WE WERE THE PERFECT COMBINATION OF WHAT LIFETIME FRIENDSHIPS HAVE IN COMMON. OPPOSITES ATTRACT AND RESPECT. If I didn’t respect you Ryan, I’d try to have you in my bed every night with experimenting as the reason why. Thats why we go to college. To try new things. You admitted you had a crush on me.” “A HUGE CRUSH!” Ryan corrected. “You were infatuated with me. Is that a fair statement?” “Yes,” Ryan said. “Well, I too am a human being capable of having crushes and being infatuated with another.” Jaxson said. “I had a huger crush, so infatuated was I with you that i couldn’t eat for ten days, because my infatuation turned into love. You don’t try to change the one you love into something they are not! You are not gay! I know that because Ry, I wanted you so bad, but you never picked up a clue. Am i correct?” “One hundred percent!” Ryan answered. “So we’re just friends?”

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billvsgirl · 5 months

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the songbird : part one

summary ; reader is a beloved, headstrong singer at a saloon in new mexico. billy is just looking for somewhere to play some poker. it’s a match made in heaven.

warnings ; some heavy insinuation (only above the cut) but aside from that, none yet 👀 i dont know if you can classify this as a slow burn but it is for me because my writing stamina is weak as hell 😇 also i might have accidentally mary sue’d reader but thats my issue

also not beta read (im lazy)

author’s note ; HIII to anyone who’s reading this, i’m sorry in advance, this is my first time writing in a very long while so forgive me. if you have any comments or suggestions please let me know 🙏 i thank @goosita and @billysgun for inspiring me to write for billy (y’all always eat thank you for supplying me with the best billy fics) pls let me know if y’all wanna see more of this series and i’m open to requests !!! okay thats all tyty

—

billy pulled the door closed behind himself ever so carefully, making sure not to alert anyone else who might still be awake in the boarding house.

he turned towards the room to look at you; waiting infront of him expectantly- yet still a bit nervous, akin to a tense game of cards. it was his move now.

you leaned into his touch as he brought a hand up to caress your cheek, stroking gently with his thumb. “my beautiful girl,” he spoke softly, quirking the corners of his lips up into a smile.

“are you sure you’re alright with this, darlin’? we don’t have to.”

but oh, how you so desperately wanted to. because it was him, because it was billy.

he had wandered into your life by chance; a raggedy stray appearing in a saloon on a friday night, just looking to make some cash off of a game of poker.

you were there, too, hidden behind a humble stage curtain. you dusted some lint off of your dress and cleared your throat before donning your guitar and revealing yourself to the bar patrons with a confident, nearly sanguine smile.

“why hello there, everyone! d’ya miss me?”

and you had the instant attention of the majority of the tired souls in the saloon, ears and eyes becoming alert. if there weren’t smiles, there were whistles, cheers, claps- and other things inbetween.

there was no argument amongst the patrons that you were special. you held a strong and awfully charismatic persona when you were up on that stage, performing each weekend. when you had first started singing publicly, give or take a year or so ago, it took time for the people there to pay mind to you- but there was only so much they could do before your cadence, your charm, drew them in. and now, the townsfolk always looked forward to your appearances.

“oh please, don’t flatter me! it’ll all go to my head. how’s ‘bout we get to some songs instead, boys?”

a bit of soft laughter could be heard, dispersed throughout the room, before some more scattered claps- and a low chatter returned within the building while you propped yourself onto the stool at the center of the platform.

“learned this one from my father- i hope y’all enjoy it, an’ feel free to sing along if ya’ know it too.”

you began to strum, and the noise in the room lowered at your command. if anyone wasn’t paying attention before, they were now.

“O bury me not,”

and the raggedy stray finally looked up from his hand of cards, sapphire blue eyes taking in your beauty for the first time.

“on the lone prarie.”

your voice was amber honey flowing over a silver spoon, it was devistatingly sweet on the tongue, and all the more addicting. even the most haughty cowboys couldn’t help but lend an ear to you.

“these words came low, and mournfully

from the pallid lips of the youth who lay

on his dying bed at the close of day.”

of course, it didn’t hurt the fact that you were pretty. anyone would agree. but the men there stopped bothering you with crude requests and comments a long time ago- you’d established that it wouldn’t be tolerated, that you weren’t some woman of the night who’d play into the egos of these dogs who assumed they were above everyone else. and what were they to do?

nevertheless, you were alluring. you had a voice that charmed snakes and tempted songbirds to whistle along. so, eventually, they left you be. and that was the way it was.

“he had wasted and pined ‘til o’er his brow,

death’s shades were slowly gathering now

he thought of home and loved ones nigh

as the cowboys gathered to see him die.”

some of the patrons softly sang along to that folk song, including the one that sat a bit further from the stage, who had laid his cards aside later than the others.

he wasn’t fully aware of the small smile etched across face, but he was aware of the way your dress draped gracefully over your legs, the way your hair flowed freely upon your head, the way your eyelashes batted against your skin each time you blinked, the way your hands held your guitar.

he was well aware that he had not seen a lady like you before.

and well after you finished your set, and you had taken time to sit down at the bar and thank the bartender for your drink, he found it in himself to approach you.

and if you were a bit apprehensive, he took mind of that, and kept a small distance whilst lowering his hat from his head.

“hello, ma’am, how are you doin’ tonight?”

you couldn’t help but soften your hardened expression just a bit at the sight of him; eyes that bore right into your heart and pleaded innocence, even though you had heard the chatter throughout the bar that night;

that he had accumulated bounties, that he was a force not to be reckoned with,

that he was ‘dangerous.’

“quite alright, thank ya’, can i help you, cowboy?”

you were curious, but you weren’t downright stupid. you’d certainly dealt with worse, and the demeanor of this man begged that he had no distasteful intentions, but there was further convincing to be done for your guard to come down.

“i just wanted to say- you’ve got a real beautiful voice. it was a nice treat after the day i’ve had, ma’am.”

his voice was soft, and he carried himself well, though you could hear notes of nervousness in the way his breath hitched slightly halfway through his speech. you tilted your head a bit, furrowing your brows.

“you’re william bonney, isn’t that right?”

he shifted his stance, breaking eye contact to look down towards the hat he held in his hands. he cleared his throat and looked back up at you with a coy smile.

“yes’m, so you’ve heard- i’ve heard em’ talkin’ about you too, albeit, for much nicer reasons, miss y/n y/l/n.”

and if the way your name rolled off of his tongue made your cheeks a couple of shades pinker than usual, that was your business and nobody else’s.

he was good looking, that couldn’t be denied. good looking in the kind of way that carried much more depth than anyone you’d seen before. good looking in the way of his strikingly blue eyes, his brown hair that curled up at the ends, the button up shirt and pants that complimented his figure perfectly, his strong, yet softened, demeanor.

“so, s’it true? what they say about you?”

“depends what they’re sayin’, ma’am. maybe, maybe not.”

“well, are you as dangerous as they say you are?”

“only when i need to be, ma’am.”

he was definitely a gentleman- that, or he was putting up a real good act. it wasn’t often that you were approached out of genuine, unsolicited interest. but william- who now insisted you instead call him billy, went silent each time you even looked like you wanted to say something.

and on the two of you went, having conversation through the rest of the night. he didn’t let on about a lot of things, he’d gotten used to being a man of few words. he wanted to know everything about you- as much as you were comfortable saying. and to his delight, you had lots to say.

the both of you were a few drinks in by the time you were sat side by side, filling the near empty saloon with laughter.

“and- and then what?” his smile was sickeningly wide.

“well, my mama always told me i should never let a man use me as a doormat, so i grabbed my saddlebag an’ swatted him right in the groin!”

billy chuckled lightly, imagining that scenario before taking another sip of his whiskey.

“serves ‘m right, the men here know less a’ how to treat women than they do knowin’ when’s appropriate to draw a gun.” he huffed out.

you set your elbow on the counter, resting your head on your hand. “i bet your mama’s real proud a’ you, billy. she raised you just as anyone should.”

he held his smile for just a second before moving to look down at his glass. he remained silent for a few moments, and you followed suit, understanding why.

“m’ sorry, i didn’t know-“

“no, it’s alright,” he looked up at you, offering a smile once again. “i hope that she is. i’m always just trying my best to do what’s right- what’s just. sometimes the law doesn’t wanna paint it that way, but i know what i’ve seen and done.”

and you trusted his word. you had let your guard down like this for the first time possibly ever with anyone who wasn’t family. you and this raggedy stray were both different birds, flying far from the flock. having his company was something new, something exciting. and you hungered to know more.

#tom blyth #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid imagine #tbosas #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #billy the kid smut

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

Text

Kung Fu Panda Villains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot / Includes: The common theme is tea XD

General Kai x Immortal!Reader: After coming back to the living plain as a spirit warrior, Kai’s first stop is to find you, an immortal ex-lover. Will you be happy to see him, though??

Lord Shen x ChildhoodFriend!Reader: You make Shen some tea because he’s always so uptight, and you crave a nice moment with him ^^

Tai Lung x Reader: The first thing Tai Lung does after escaping prison is visit you, his girlfriend/boyfriend/romantic partner from before he was imprisoned- and you’ve been waiting for him ^^

Annnnd, this is my first attempt at writing any of these guys, so I’m sorry if they aren’t quite right!

Warnings: I guess Tai gets a little frisky with you? But not really XD He’s just happy to see you!! XD

General Kai:

… A spirit warrior. This man leaves you for war, starts stealing peoples chi, doesn’t come back for 5 hundred years- and when he finally does come back, he is something called a spirit warrior??

You are deeply unamused. And he knows it- how could he not? You are standing in your doorway looking up at him with a scowl on your lips. He better be intimidated.

“So… “Your voice is as cold as ice, eyes narrowing in distaste as he rubs the back of neck in nervousness at your reaction to him after all these years. Not because he is nervous, but because he has the good sense to look it. “how did it go??”

“Wh- uh… the war??”

“Yes.”

“Well, I um… Oogway banished me to the spirit realm… “

“I heard… “

“Oh, you know. So- uh- you know, that’s why I haven’t been around… not that I didn’t wanna see you, or forgot you or, or anything… “

“Uhuh… “

“Look, can I come in?” He suddenly snaps, dropping his large arms to his sides and moving in closer to you, letting go of the façade of nervousness. “I got other places to be.”

“Oh! You have other places to be??” Immediately Kai realises he has said the wrong thing, when you light up like this. “Great! Go there!”

Then you slam the door in his face. You think he was so close that it knocked his nose- you hope that it knocked his nose. You stay by the door just long enough to hear him grunt on the other side, before sweeping off further into your house to start forgetting he came at all. You spent over 500 years missing him, he can’t just come back one day and treat you like a stop along the way.

Also- what he did, what he is no doubt still trying to do, is unforgiveable. And you refuse to be party to it. No way.

When your door literally flies off the hinges behind you, slamming into the ground with a huge, loud THUD, you whip around with wide eyes and take in a deep breath- ready to yell at this bastard for knocking down your goddamn door-

But he strolls on in, breaking your door further when he steps on it, and holds a hoof up to your face- silencing you. “Y/N… Come on, lets just talk about this.” As you stay completely silent then, Kai takes the opportunity to soften a little bit, using those bovine eyes on you in that way he knows used to make you melt once upon a time. “I missed you.”

… damnit, it still has an effect on you. Not quite the same effect, you’re still holding together - you’re still pissed, - , but that little part of you that was there since you saw him today that desperately wants to accept him back- get a little bit louder.

Now, you can’t do that, you can’t just forgive him, but you can hear him out. On your terms, but… you can be okay with him being in your house… at least. You guess. So, straightening up, you brush his hoof out of your way with the back of your hand, relishing inwardly in the way his face drops at the motion, and head towards the kitchen.

“… fine. Fix that door and if you manage to do that before I finish the tea, you can have some. Deal?”

“I’m on it.”

Lord Shen:

“Shen? I made tea, and thought you might want a cup before you leave?”

“Tea?... I don’t need your tea- “

“Agree to disagree. Sit down.”

This made Lord Shen look at you as if you grew 3 heads and shat on the rug for a good long moment, but you don’t remove your gaze from his even though he’s scary, and after a few moments, he narrows his eyes at you and sits down on the other side of the mat. Success-

“Just a sip.” He tells you, in that hushed voice of his that can be goddamn terrifying depending on what you’ve done, as he picks up a cup in is wing. “I’ve never had tea from you, before… Wonder if it’ll be palatable.” He thinks out loud, half to himself and half to bother you, peering into the cup.

Oh, now- Rolling your eyes, you raise a cup to your own lips, feeling the warmth in your hands, and nod to him. Go on. “Well only one way to find out.” You’ve known Shen for a long time now, you grew up together, so his meanness doesn’t do quite the same thing to you as it does to others. Also, you’ve always been rather resilient, and a little naïve. No matter how hard someone may try to convince you, you cant truly believe that Shen is evil. Evil doesn’t really exist, and if it does then surely it has worse things to do then live inside Shen.

You feel like people calling him evil is just an easy way for them to compartmentalize, and you would rather know him. Which you do. That’s how you kept up eye contact with this insane bird-

“Right… “

As you take a sip yourself, and feel the warm liquid slide down your throat and fill your insides with lovely heat, you wait patiently for Shen to do the same. It takes him a moment, scowling at you as you drink your tea, before he lets out a dramatic sigh and tries it himself. “Alright, alright.” You watch his pretty face change, no longer does it look like he smelt something awful- it actually looks… surprised. Vaguely pleasantly surprised, as a matter of fact, as he looks back into the cup. “… hm.”

“Hmm?~ “

“Its… well, I’m not dead.”

“Did you really think it would kill you, Shen? That I would try to kill you?” You deadpan, but raise your brows expectantly when he raises his eyes to you.

… He pauses. “… well- “

“Shen!”

“You’re right, you wouldn’t have what it takes, would you? No… “ Smirking, Shen takes another sip of his tea. “Thank you, though. This tea is remarkably edible.”

… sighing, you roll your eyes look away as you take another sip yourself. “Thanks. You’re welcome.”

Shen steals your attention again, though, as he drains the last of his tea and holds out the cup to you, an oddly adorable - yet still crazy, - expression on his face. Soft, and almost pleading. “… Can I have some more, then?” His voice, of course, is still terrifying.

A slow grin spreads across your face. “… I thought you were on your way out?”

“Oh shut up, and pour me some tea.”

Tai Lung:

“Y/N!” A familiar voice yells, banging at your front door.

“Tai??” You ask, wide eyed and shocked as you pull the door open and see him standing there.

“Y/N.” He says again, unbelievable and desperate relief in his tone as he pulls you against his chest in the warmest hug you’ve ever experienced- well, since you last saw him. 20 years ago. He breathes in at your head, taking as much of your scent as he can. As he breathes out, he releases a growl, but it is not an unhappy one- its full of comfort. When he speaks, his voice pitters into a bit of whine, at the end. “It’s been too long… “

You just squeeze him closer to you, burying your face in his shoulder and closing your eyes. Its unbelievable to you that he’s here, with you again. How did he get out?? You don’t even care. You don’t even care if he should be out, or what he’s going to do now that he is, you just want to stay here tucked away in him, listening to his heartbeat and holding on to it.

After a few minutes, though, you begin to get nervous someone will see him and call someone- and he would be taken away again- so, sniffing, you pull back gently, and flash him a warm smile; nodding inside. “Do you- do you want some tea??”

Still holding onto your hands/the ends of your wings/paws/etc, his paws being so much larger than what you have, he keeps you close to his body and warmly grins. “I don’t want to let you go, little one.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Alright then.”

You lead him inside and he closes the door behind you both, and while you’re pouring the water into the kettle he wraps his arms around your body from behind and sets his head on top of yours, curling his tail around one of your legs as well. He purrs.

After you set the kettle over the fire Tai Lung sits himself down on one of your kitchen chairs - again, not letting go of your hand/wing/paw/etc at all for even a moment, - before urging you onto his lap where he wraps himself back around you again. “I’ve missed you… “He growls into your hair. “So much, little one… I thought about you, in there, you know… all about you… “

“Oh, I’m assuming you thought about other things, too… “You reply, rolling your eyes, though still very much happy he’s here. Other things, like the scroll… dragon warrior… Shifu… escape…

Chuckling against you, and brushing his tail against you, Tai nods. “Yes, but when I was thinking of you… “ He suddenly squeezes your waist in his paws, making you yelp. “You were the only thing, on my mind… “

“Hmm,” You just him, leaning your head on his chest.

After a few more moments of blessed enjoyment of each other’s company, each other’s touch and warmth, Tai speaks up again. This time, there is a hint of nervousness in his voice that causes you to lift off of his chest in order to watch his face; Concerned. “Were you… uh, I mean, have you… “ Sighing, he looks away for a moment and gathers himself. Then looks back, serious. “Is there anyone else?... “

The look on his face is saying that he wouldn’t blame you, if their were. You were without him for a long, long time. And he would prefer you be happy, with someone else… then depressed, and alone. It would hurt him… but he loves you.

It tells you that you made the right decision in waiting all this time.

With a small, sad smile, you shake your head at him. “I promised you- I would wait. I’m yours, Ta- Ah!“ He kisses you then like he cant help it, growling into your mouth.

When he pulls back, his paw on your jaw, theirs a pleased grin on his face- but unbelievably fond look in his yellow eyes. “… I’m yours too, Y/N.”

#Kung Fu Panda Villains x Reader Drabbles #Kung Fu Panda Villains x Reader #Kung Fu Panda Villains #KFP Villains #KFP Villains x Reader #General Kai #KFP General Kai #General Kai x Reader #KFP General Kai x Reader #Lord Shen #KFP Lord Shen #Lord Shen x Reader #KFP Lord Shen x Reader #Tai Lung #KFP Tai Lung #Tai Lung x Reader #KFP Tai Lung x Reader #Drabbles

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ryker-writes · 1 year

Note

Can I request form leaders with an mc who bites people out of love?

I do that i lot of times lmao, it entering seeing their reaction sometimes

Of course! I get the urge to just do that too sometimes-

Also posting this one from my phone instead of my usual computer so I hope everything looks fine

Request rules and Masterlists

Riddle:

confused

his first instinct is off with your head but he refrains

he is very red

you need to explain yourself immediately

if you don't it will be off with your head

when you do explain he's still confused

biting out of love?

he's never heard of such a thing

he will come to accept it with a lot of time but he'll tell you to maybe not bite him when others are around

he just get's so embarrassed if others see it

Will eventually calm down and accept it is you bite him without others round

Leona:

you're playing a dangerous game here

you biting him means he has the right to bite you back

and he will

be careful because he has sharp teeth

he doesn't even question it he just already knows why

he really doesn't mind it

so what if people see you bite him?

you do it out of love so there's no reason to hide it

he's actually pretty smug about it

Azul:

he's broken

wh-why did you bite him????

he's more red than Riddle

Demands and explanation

Love? You bite people out of love?

He’s pretty sure humans don’t usually do this

Like Riddle, he doesn’t want you to do it when others around

While he will be hesitant about you doing it at all, he’s willing to accept it if no one sees

But he’s going to die of embarrassment every time regardless if people see or not

If people do see he’s going to flee and want to crawl into his octo-pot

Kalim:

huh?

he doesn't even understand what happened but he's very calm about it

You bit him? Okay. Why?

Very calm about it all

When you tell him that you bit him out of love, he’s super excited about it

That’s so sweet!

Expect him to start biting too at random times

When Kalim sees you he’s just so happy and he cares about you so much that he just starts walking up and biting you

Jamil is so confused

Kalim might start biting other people he loves too so…

Vil:

first of all, how dare you

Don’t you know it’s rude to bite people?

It’s animal-like

At first he thinks he needs to teach you how to behave around others

But then you tell him that you do it out of love and he’s conflicted

He appreciates your love but he can’t just have you biting him all the time

Perhaps there’s another way you can show your love?

If not he will accept the biting on a few conditions

First, you can not bite him when others are around and you two are completely alone in a room

He will not risk other people seeing or taking photos/videos

Second, you can’t bite him hard enough to leave a mark on his skin

Third, you can only bite spots on him that are pre-approved by him

As long as you follow these rules, he doesn’t mind it as much

Idia:

he's broken #2

Idia.exe has stopped working

as soon as you bite him he can't move or say anything

he's completely frozen

This is so much like this one anime he saw-

He’s so flustered

I’m sorry but he won’t be able to function anywhere near you for the next 2-3 business days

What was that?

Are you some sort of cannibal and he’s your next target?

Did he upset you some how and you were taking your rage out on him?

Eventually may send you a message that asks why you bit him

When you tell him it was out of love he’s broken again

You have to wait another 2-3 business days to hear from Idia again

He will accept it but will be embarrassed and freak out every single time

Not worried about you doing it near people since he’s rarely around other people anyway

Malleus:

w h a t

he's so lost

why are you biting him?

did he do something to offend you?

Do you feel threatened or attacked?

Whatever he’s done he hopes you can forgive him

But why do you bite and then smile at him?

He will calmly ask you why you just bit him

You do it out of love?

He’s now a very happy dragon

He assumes it’s a normal human thing he was unaware of

…this leads to him asking Silver why he never bites anyone

After finding out that it’s out of love, he accepts and loves whenever you bite him

He won’t be ashamed at all even if it’s in front of others

In fact, he kinda wants other people to see so they know just how much you care about him

Malleus wishes he could return the affection but he doesn’t want to bite you in fear of hurting you

His teeth are sharp and he often doesn’t know his own strength so he may bite to hard and accidentally hurt you

He would feel so bad if that happened

Do not let Sebek see you bite Malleus under any circumstances

That’s basically asking him to freak out and yell at you for hours

If Sebek sees Malleus accept it tho…he’s dying on the inside and you can see him struggle not to say anything in real time

Note: does Azul taste like octopus? Let me know...for science...

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 months

Text

Before You Go

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree, but a certain green eyed stranger keeps showing up and turns her life upside down. Will she push him away? Or will she finally realize that he’s not going anywhere? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's)

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), mentions of sex (not explicit at all), implied sex, self-deprecating thoughts (Dean), Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. I’m not going to lie, this one is a little self-indulgent. This is only my second supernatural fic, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Masterlist

Part 2

********************************************

"Did you understand anything from that lecture?" Tim asks nudging your shoulder.

The sour smell of beer and sweat fades in and out of your nose as you make your way to the Science building through the mass of students on the way to the football game. It was a Thursday night, Thursday night for everyone else meant tailgating, cheap beer, and face paint, but Thursday night for you meant four hours in the anatomy lab surrounded by the oppressive smell of formaldehyde and bent over a table examining the internal intricacies of the human body.

It wasn’t unwelcome, you knew what you signed up for when you decided to go to medical school, but you still wished that the lab was earlier in the day instead of at 6 pm.

The air is filled with the dull throb of energy, pulsing with the music from speakers all over campus, and through the throngs of people that pass you on the way to the stadium. The buzz of excitement in the air vibrated through your nerve endings. If you paid attention to how well the football team was doing, you would have known that tonight was the championship, but the closest you got to pigskin was the bag of pork rinds in your backpack and the occasional football player that asked you for help finding research materials during your shifts at the library.

"Nope." You reply jostling past a group of guys toting a giant stuffed pig wearing jersey of the school’s rival while they catcall some girls up ahead dressed from head to toe in bright red.

"Then why did you keep nodding?"

"Because Professor Drake was staring right at me!"

"You didn't have to make eye contact."

"It's a little late for that don't you think?" You smile up at him. He's taller than you, with dark hair falling forward into his glasses and a lean build. "But it's alright, I'll just binge watch YouTube videos."

Tim laughs adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You had been lab partners since your first year, randomly assigned and forced to collaborate, but after many late night study sessions and mental breakdowns, Tim was one of your only friends.

“You seem to spend a lot of time on YouTube." He smiles.

"It's free education."

"Seems ridiculous to pay all this money just to learn it on YouTube."

"If YouTube handed out degrees for watching videos I’d be a doctor by now. I’d probably also have a degree in culinary arts.” You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You were both running late for lab. Dr. Welsh hated it when students were late, in fact, he was notorious for locking the door. Each week there was always some poor soul that banged on the door for entry, but Dr. Welsh knew no mercy. One time, you witnessed another student attempt to sneak in through the window an hour late. Dr. Welsh made them go back out the way they came, despite the lab being on the third floor.

At least the student brought a ladder with him.

“Culinary arts?”

“I like pie. Plus baking helps me cope with my stress.” You knock into his shoulder to shut him up. “What? You don’t watch anything weird on YouTube?”

“I usually start watching videos to understand the lectures and suddenly it’s been 7 hours, it’s 3 am and I’m watching a timelapse of metal rusting.”

“We’ve all been there buddy.”

"Hey doll-face!" You hear from somewhere behind you, but you ignore it, believing it to be another group of guys who splash beer over the sidewalk.

You glance down at your watch again.

"We're not going to be late." Jake says sensing your anxiety. "We've got 5 minutes."

"Early is on time, on time is late, late is inexcusable." You sing-song.

"Dr. Welsh embroider that on a pillow for you?"

"No it’s just-"

Someone grabs your backpack and pulls you back a step. What the- You whirl around prepared to cuss out a drunken frat boy, but you weren't expecting Dean Winchester.

"Dean." You say in surprise.

He looks better than you remember. Dean's wearing a red flannel covered by a black jacket, his hair tousled just the right amount to look effortless, his green eyes crinkled around the edges as his mouth pulls into a smile that makes your knees weak.

Your relationship, if you could even call it that, began your first week of classes, two years ago. You had just moved into your apartment and met your new roommate, but instead of going out to the new student mixer with her, you decided to stay in and unpack. It was past midnight when you heard a commotion in the apartment next door and when you opened your front door to investigate, you found Dean in the hallway leaning against the wall. His clothes were torn, he had a knife in his hand, blood was soaked through the front of his shirt, but when his eyes met yours, you weren't afraid. He looked so broken, so small that you had to help him. So you pulled him into your apartment and stitched him up the best you could, while he tried to lie about how it happened and explain why he looked like he'd been through a blender. Dean had never been good at lying to you, not even then. He was also the biggest baby you had ever met when it came to wound care.

In the months that followed Dean continued to show up, each time with injuries less and less life threatening asking you to help him, until one day he showed up perfectly fine and continued to show up. You would spend every minute together for a few days and then he would leave like nothing happened, only to show up again in a few weeks and it would start all over again. Sometimes you thought that he wanted more than just a few days together, but then he would just leave, not giving you any other explanation. You hadn't expected to fall for him as hard as you did, but each time he left it broke you. You found yourself hoping each day that he would show up, only to be disappointed when he didn't. Days would drag by fading into shades of gray until finally Dean would show up and everything went back to color, only to sink back into monochrome when he left. The last time you had seen him was a month ago, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and told him not to come back.

But now he was here, again.

"Hey Doll-face." Dean smiles wider.

You try to ignore how your heart stutters in your chest when he smiles at you.

"Do you know this guy?" Tim asks you taking a step forward to put himself between Dean and you.

Dean's eyes trace Tim, smile slipping into confident smirk as he sizes him up. He opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever thought was about to come out.

"Unfortunately I do." You sigh. "Tim can you give us a minute."

"Sure. But-"

"I know." You say, understanding that he was going to remind you what time it was. "We won't be late."

"I'll be over there." Tim puts a healthy distance between the two of you, far enough to give you space, but close enough that he can see you.

Dean is still smirking at him. "Boyfriend?" His eyes flit to yours, amused.

"Lab partner." You adjust your grip on your backpack unsure what to do.

I said everything I needed to say the last time. I thought that was it. Did he think I didn't mean it?

You think about the last time he was here, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and when he finally left, how you skipped all your classes and stayed in bed for two days clutching a pillow to your chest and wishing that it was him. It had felt like the end. The end of whatever the hell this had been. Sometimes you wished that you had defined it the first time you slept together, wished that you had told him you didn't do that ever, that you didn't just sleep with people without feelings because you knew sooner or later it would end up like this.

Then again you knew that you always had feelings for him, since the moment you locked eyes with his the night you met.

"He’s cute. If you’re into that geeky kind of thing. Though you could always date Sam-"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. Plus I didn’t want to miss the big game.” Dean's eyes flit to the mass of people swarming around you, shouting and singing as they stumble down the cracked pavement. The dark shadows of the buildings stretch long over campus, illuminated by the lamplights that line the sidewalks.

"You should have called"

"I did. You never pick up" He arches a perfect eyebrow.

"Most would take that as a hint"

"Well Sweetheart given my profession you not picking up made me worry."

By now you knew exactly what he did. Despite Dean not acting like he wanted a relationship, when all was quiet and it was just the two of you laying in bed he confided in you, told you things about his life that made you hold him close and wish that you could make him forget all about it. You loved those soft moments with Dean, when it felt like more and you could imagine that Dean wanted to be as wrapped up in you as you were in him.

Your heart clenches in your chest as you try to forget it all, forget the day he walked into your life, and forget how much you like him.

"I can’t do this with you right now, I’ve got a lab in 3 minutes." You turn towards where Tim is standing, prepared to leave.

"Come on you can blow off one lab.” Dean grabs your backpack turning you back to face him. “We can go to the big game. You know I can’t say no to free beer-“ The look in his eyes is joking.

He doesn't understand.

You shake him off. "No I can't Dean. This is important to me. This is my life. I can't drop everything just because you show up out of the blue."

"It wouldn't be out of the blue if you picked up your phone." His smile dips into an attractive pout that makes it very difficult to think.

"Dean why are you here?"

"I told you, I was in the neighborhood-"

"We talked about this. I can't do this anymore."

"I remember you talking about it."

"Yes and I remember you leaving." You snap as the memory of the last time you saw him rises in the back of your throat. You think about the days that followed, when you couldn't focus and flunked a test.

"Y/n-“ Dean sighs.

"Look, I like spending time with you, but I can't keep doing this to myself. You show up, we spend every second together for days, and then you leave. It would be one thing if we were trying to do long distance, but we’re not. All I get is radio silence for weeks and then you show up all over again like nothing happened, expecting to pick up right where we left off, and the cycle begins all over again."

"I don't go radio silent for weeks. It’s you that doesn’t pick up your phone or text me back.”

"Yes you do and I can't do it. I won't do it. Because every time you leave I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you and-" You take in a breath to stop the ball of emotion that lodges itself in your throat. "It does something to me. And I'm not saying that what you do is any less important than what I'm trying to accomplish here. I’m not telling you to stop hunting. But this is my life Dean, my future. And I don’t want to put that in jeopardy because you show up every few weeks when you’re feeling restless. I want more than a few days every few weeks. I want more and I'm worth more. And if you can't give that to me that's fine, but please stop coming around and so I can find someone else who can."

The expression on Dean's face shifts, it's no longer the playful smirk or attractive pout, it almost looks heartbroken.

But that can't be right. Dean doesn't see me that way.

You look at where Tim is waiting for you to avoid Dean's gaze. He’s looking down at the watch on his wrist and you can feel his apprehension.

"I've got to get to my lab." You turn away from Dean, but stop halfway to Tim. "It was good to see you Dean. I wish you the best."

As Tim and you begin to walk away, you can feel Dean's eyes on you the whole way up the stairs into the science building, but you refuse to turn back.

"Are you okay?" Tim whispers.

"I will be. Let's just go before Dr. Welsh locks the door." You mutter while pushing down the guilt that rose when you thought of how Dean looked when you walked away.

********************************************

Despite Dr. Welsh’s attempts to lock the door, you were far too angry with Dean to let another man stand in your way, so when you and Tim arrived to lab 10 seconds before the clock struck 6, you shoved your boot in the door before Dr. Welsh could shut it. And by some miracle he let you in. Maybe it was the murder in your eyes.

Tim had been stunned, you were usually more reserved, not quick tempered. But everything that happened with Dean rubbed you the wrong way.

You couldn’t decide if you liked him or hated him. Right now the hate was winning.

How dare he? You thought to yourself, hand clenching on the scalpel so tightly that Tim backed up. How dare he just show up again after I told him not to?

“Y/n, are you okay?” Tim had asked.

“I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?” You’d snapped at him.

Even Dr. Welsh had given you a wide berth through lab.

After you cleaned up everything it was 10:26 pm, which meant you had a little time before your late shift in the library.

“Did you want to go see if that shawarma food truck is still parked around the corner?” Tim asks hesitantly.

“No. I’m just gonna go to the library and study before my shift.” You mumble, shouldering your backpack and ignoring the urge to think about Dean.

Hopefully he took the hint and he’s gone. The thought brought a prick of guilt. Would that be the last time I ever saw him? Would those be the last words I ever said to him? You fight the urge to call him, to apologize, because the one thing you had wanted to say was that you liked him and you didn’t want him to go, you wanted him to stay in your life permanently. Sure long distance was hard, but for him it would be worth it.

“Oh.” Tim pauses for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?”

“Well that Dean guy. You seemed kinda upset.”

“I was- am. But it’s okay, give me a few hours I’ll be over it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“Make sure to send the link to that Timelapse of metal rusting.” You try to smile, but the joke falls flat.

“Okay.” Tim watches you go.

The library was only a 9 minute walk from the science building, but it still felt too long. You longed to be lost in your notes, to think of anything else other than Dean, but you couldn’t.

Why did he have to come back? Why couldn’t he have just let it lie? I was doing better- You think about the weeks that followed his last visit, a haze of homework, tests, and work. Well, I was doing okay.

The thrum of music is still in the air, but now less people pass you as you walk down the sidewalk, and the ones that do are holding hands and laughing. Your thoughts shift to Dean again.

I like him, but I have to get over him because it’s not going anywhere. You think about the first time you slept together. Maybe this is my fault, maybe I should have defined this from the beginning. I mean, I know the kind of person he is… That thought makes you pause. Sure the first few times you’d patched his wounds Dean was sexy and flirty, but all the times that followed he seemed, sweet, charming. It wasn’t that you spent every moment in bed, he had taken you out to dinner at the diner down the street, fought with you over the last slice of pie, took you to a bar for drinks where he shamelessly beat you at pool, other times he waited for you to be done with your classes to make sure that you didn't have to walk home alone at night. You remember how mad he had been when you told him you did that, but gas was so expensive and it was easier to walk the four blocks.

Someone grabs your arm from behind, pulling you out of your memories, and you finally snap. Using the only self defense move you knew, besides S-I-N-G from Miss Congeniality, you knock off the hand and flip the offender over your shoulder prepared to spray them in the face with the mace in your pocket.

But then you realize who it is.

Dean frowns up at you from the ground. “When I taught you that, I didn’t expect you to use it on me.”

“Just be happy that I didn’t pepper spray you.” Your eyes narrow.

Maybe I should. It would make me feel better.

“Would have been the highlight of my night.” He stands up from the ground brushing off the front of his clothes with a pointed look.

“Dean what are you still doing here?”

“I want to talk.”

“I’ve said all I need to.”

“But I haven’t.”

“I don’t care. You’ve heard what I need to say and I’m sick of you not listening.”

“Y/n-“

“Fine, I’ll say it one more time, but listen this time. I've never, never depended on anyone else in my life. It's been me, me for a long time.” You poke your finger into his chest to emphasize your point. “Then you just sauntered in and changed everything. You made me care about you, worry about you, and you made me depend on you showing up in my life. Every time you leave it breaks me. Every time I’m in a funk for days. The last time you left, I cried for two days and I didn’t go to any of my classes! I'm trying to be serious about my life. And I can't do that if you show up every few weeks and make me expect something and then leave a few days later and I'm devastated.”

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

“I have to get over you Dean, and I can't do that if you keep showing up. So please just go.” You turn away from him.

His hand comes down on your arm again to turn you back to him. “I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?”

“Do you think I like leaving you? Do you really think it’s that easy for me?” He looks hurt.

“It certainly seems to be when you walk out after a few days with a smile like it means nothing! Like I mean nothing-“ You fight the tears that burn against your eyes. You wanted to be something for him just as much as he was something for you, but you were afraid. You hadn’t depended on anyone since you graduated and moved away from home. You weren’t used to needing someone in your life this much.

"You mean everything!” Dean shouts grabbing your shoulders. “It’s me that means nothing."

You blink your eyes for a second, not comprehending what he’s trying to say. "Dean what are you talking about?"

"I didn't think you wanted that-" He looks down.

Your eyes trace the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his handsome face, and the way he won’t meet your gaze.

What is he talking about?

You try to think of a time that you’d seen him look so vulnerable, but the only time you imagine was the night you met.

"Wanted what?"

"Me.” Dean’s voice is a whisper.

"I'm confused."

His eyebrows are furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m nothing like you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re a little younger than me and you’re smart and you’ve got this bright future ahead of you. You don’t need someone like me dragging you down-“

“Someone like you? Dragging me down? Dean what are you talking about?" You can't comprehend what he's saying. You reach up to cup his cheeks, but Dean pulls back from you, glancing away.

“I didn’t go to a fancy college, I barely finished high school. I’ve spent most of my life in motel rooms committing credit card fraud and trying not to die. And then I met you. You’re funny and caring and so smart, and I just thought that you would like it more if I came by every once in a while to relieve some tension. I didn’t think that you would want me to stay.”

He didn’t think that I would want him? That can't be right. Dean is so confident usually. You search his face and see the genuine vulnerability behind his green eyes.

“Are you serious?” You ask him.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Dean, you are smart-“

“Not the same way you are”

“Dean.” You can’t help but take his hand. Dean’s green eyes focus on yours for a second, wide and open. “You don’t have to go to college to be smart. You’re resourceful and you know more about supernatural creatures than anyone else. Even the top scientists and doctors in the world don’t believe in them and they went to stuffy old colleges and fight with one another over who’s smarter. I don’t care that you didn’t go to a fancy college. What you do is important, probably more important than what I’m going to do. You protect people, you’ve saved the world more than once, and sure maybe it’s not glamorous to some people but it is to me.”

His eyes widen in surprise.

“Have you thought that maybe I like spending time with you because you’re so different than the people I see everyday?” You ask him softly, squeezing his hand.

“No.” Dean mutters.

“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I don’t have lavish wealthy parents bankrolling me. My dad is a mechanic. I work two jobs and send him money so I don’t have to worry about him. Sometimes I feel like a fraud. But when you show up I don’t feel like a freak. With you I feel like I don’t have to pretend, I can just be me. And I like you, a lot. This has never just been about relieving tension or sex for me. Ever. I mean it’s nice-“

“Just nice?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

You flush bright red. “I like spending time with you without that too. All the times we spent laying in bed or went to a bar or went to get food, and we talked were equally as wonderful for me. I like talking with you. I like hearing about your life. I just assumed that you had someone in every state that you visit when you’re feeling restless and that you didn’t want a relationship.”

“There’s no one else. Hasn’t been since I met you.”

Deans eyes lock with yours as you comprehend what he just confessed.

“Really?” Your voice is only a whisper.

“Fuck I’m not good at this romantic comedy shit-“ He mutters to himself shaking his head. “I like you too. I wish that I could be here all the time. I hate leaving you. It’s too quiet. When I’m not here all I do is think about you, what you’re doing, how your day was.”

Your entire body explodes with his words, heart beating so fast you think it’ll grow wings and take flight.

“When I was younger I used to laugh at Sam because he wanted a normal life, but with you I understand. You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever met and it hurts me when I’m away from you.” Dean continues with a soft smile that makes you lose all feeling in your legs.

He takes your other hand. “I understand that what you’re doing is important and I’m not asking you to quit school. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. I want to make this work. I know that long distance isn’t easy, but I want to try.” His eyes search yours, begging for a answer, but you can barely breathe let alone speak. You watch his face fall as he takes your silence as your answer. “But I understand if you don’t want to, because you are worth more. You’re worth more than a few days, than a phone call or a text. You deserve someone who can be here with you all the time. You’re worth more than what I can give you. And you shouldn’t have to settle-“

You grab the front of his flannel because you can’t think of anything to say and pull him down to you for a kiss. Pins and needles trace down your spine as his soft lips move against yours. He smiles against your mouth, folding you into him, his large hand on the small of your back just under your backpack causing warmth to shoot down your spine. You lose yourself in the way his body fits around yours

“I’m not settling.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look deep into his eyes. “I never want you to feel that way, because you are worth a hundred of any man I have ever met in my life. And if it’s my cross to bear to make you understand that every day of my life, then so be it. Because I would be lucky to spend any amount of time with you. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Dean. I’ve wanted you since the day we met and every day after. And I’m yours as long as you want me.”

Dean’s smile breaks open something in the pit of your stomach and goosebumps scorch across your skin. “I can’t imagine not wanting you.” He presses his forehead against yours.

You stand there with his warm hand pressed into your back trying to think of another time that you felt even a fraction of what you feel for him. You think about your high school boyfriend, about a few of the guys you dated in during your undergrad years, but you come up with nothing. Because you can’t compare him to anyone else you’ve ever met. And it hurt you to think that Dean thought so little of himself in the grand scheme of things.

He leans down to kiss you again, pulling you against his chest so tight that everything blissfully falls away.

“Are you hungry?” He whispers against your lips after a minute.

“Yes, but my shift at the library starts soon. I’m there til 2.” You tighten your hands at the back of his neck, not wanting to let him go.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“Dean it’s okay if you just want to go back to my apartment and sleep. I can give you the key-“ You notice the dark circles under his eyes, but you know that Dean wasn’t one to complain about being tired.

“It’s worth being tired if I get to see you.” Dean smiles. “But I’ll go get us some food, because I’m hungry too.”

“Don’t forget the pie.”

“Have I ever?” He brushes his lips to yours one more time, but you don’t remove your arms from around his neck. “You’re going to have to let me go doll.”

“Just 5 more minutes.”

********************************************

You spend the weekend together in your apartment. All those blissful moments together solidify the thought that this is real, that this time it’s going to be different. Every night going to bed with Dean tucking you against him and waking up every morning with your head on his chest feels like a dream, and you never want to wake. Every kiss and intimate moment between you feels like more, and you have to keep reminding yourself that it isn’t just sex, hasn’t ever been just sex. Dean wants to be there with you all the time, hold you close to him and share things with you. And this time you finally understand that you do help him forget and know that you do bring him as much comfort as he brings you.

When Monday comes and Dean has to go, you try not to think of it as the end.

Dean leans back against the door of the Impala, his hands on your hips, green eyes blazing in the sun, but it’s his eyes that warm you more than the sun’s rays.

"Sweetheart-" Dean begins, sensing what you’re thinking. His thumbs rub smooth circles against waist where your t-shirt rests.

"I know." You press your face into his flannel, inhaling the scent you ascribe to Dean. He smells like oil, leather, and the spicy scent of the soap he uses that tickles your nose.

"Hey." His free hand comes under your chin to raise your gaze back to his. "I promise I'm gonna come back. I promise that we're going to make this work. It’s going to be different.” He cups your cheek, eyes soft and understanding.

“I know, but you’re still leaving.” Your tighten your arms around his chest.

“I wish I didn’t have to. But Sam called, he needs me-“

“I know.” You breathe.

You don’t want Dean to feel any worse than he does about leaving, especially when you remember what he said to you a few days ago, about you deserving more and about how he wished he could be more for you. Deep down you know that both of you are determined to make this work, so you put on a smile.

“It’s okay.” You gently rub his back. “You’ll be back in 2 weeks and I’ll be on spring break in a month.”

“Does that mean I’ll get to see you in a bikini?” Dean grins.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hmm. Well until I see you-“ He raises his right hand from where it rests on your hip to remove the large silver ring from his finger. "Don't panic, it's not an engagement ring." Dean's smile breaks you a little. "Just me promising that I'll come back, that I'll call and text you so much that you'll be sick of me." He slides the ring onto your thumb, the weight comforting.

"I could never be sick of you."

“Just you wait.” He winks, holding your hand to his chest. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”

“I welcome the challenge.”

The kiss goodbye is bittersweet, but you hold yourself together, refusing to cry as Dean gets into his car and leaves. You watch the Impala disappear around the corner, taking your heart with it, but just as it does your phone rings.

“Hello?”

“I miss you.” Dean’s voice fills the line and this time you can’t stop the tears.

“I miss you too.”

“I promise I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“Okay. Please be careful.” You remember all the stories he's told you over the time you’ve known him, all the horrible things that happened to him and Sam. Sometimes you wish he hadn’t, because you can’t help but worry.

“I’m always careful.” You can hear him rolling his eyes.

“As the person who has spent the past 2 years patching you up, I can say with certainty that you are not always careful.”

“Then I promise to be more careful than usual.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” The wind picks up, pulling your hair from the ponytail at the back of your head.

“I’ll call you when I make it back to the bunker.”

“Good.”

“Bye y/n.”

“Bye Dean.”

Your gaze drops to the heavy ring on your thumb and you hold tight to the hope and belief that this time is different, allowing the memories of the past few days to brush away any doubts that threaten the thought of what the future will bring.

********************************************

Thank you so much for reading! I am considering doing a series with this reader and Dean, but let me know what y’all think!

#spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #spnfandom #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fluff #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fic #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #soft dean

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linos-luna · 7 months

Text

My Queen (Pt. 3) ❣️🔪

Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Warning: Yandere, 18+, delusions, Stockholm Syndrome, Sex

(Pt. 4)

—————————— 👑———————————

Another month or two passes by fairly quick. Everyday Hyunjin loved and worshiped you. It was a bit suffocating at times but you actually ended up falling for him.

Isn’t falling for your captor is the definition of Stockholm Syndrome??

The relationship was odd. You loved him but at the same time, was a little afraid. Hyunjin wasn’t violent often but sometimes he’d lose composure and lash out. He’d snap at random but would then apologize profusely right after. You were a bit worried for him as he seemed to slip deeper into this delusion. But one thing is for sure, he always knew how to please you…

~~~~~~~ 👑

You slept peacefully on your stomach, snuggling into the pillows as you breathed softly. A mid-day nap. Hyunjin says you need your beauty sleep. And you don’t mind.

As your eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the light, you turned to a side, only to see Hyunjin laying there, staring straight at you. It made you nearly jump.

“Jinnie?!” You laughed nervously. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Watching.” he replied bluntly.

“Why…?”

“Because I have to.” He said while sitting up.

Hyunjin helped you sit up as well and kissed your hand before looking at you a bit worried.

“My love?”

“Yes?”

“Why do you want to leave?” He asked with a frown. “I heard you talk in your sleep.”

“I-… I don’t want to leave you—”

“But you want to leave the castle!” He interrupted. “I upkeep it to your standards! Just for you!”

You felt like you need some outside interaction. However, Hyunjin never lets you out. Only every once in a while to the “garden” out back.

“Jinnie—”

“No! You can’t!” He yelled while squeezing your hand.

“My queen may want a nice walk….. she deserves the world… but No! you can’t leave!”

It was almost as if he was arguing with himself as you stopped replying entirely. He really did seemed distraught at the idea of you leaving… it got you thinking.

Someone is probably looking for you. And if you could just make a call or text telling people not to worry, that’d be nice. You knew your phone was here because you’ve seen it once or twice but Hyunjin never let you have it.

“Jinnie!” You said while rubbing his hands. “I’m not going to leave. I’ll never leave you… but I want to do more…”

“More?” Hyunjin perked up. “What more could you want, my love?”

“Well I want to go outside more….”

“Then we go to the garden!” He instantly stood and tried pulling you but you didn’t budge.

“No I mean out as in the front… like in public.”

“I tell you that it’s dangerous! Anyone could hurt you! Or take you away!” He said while shaking his head. “I cannot loose my queen again!”

“You won’t…”

“Then it’s final!” Hyunjin exclaimed with a smile. “End of discussion! I shall make lunch now.”

“Jinnie-?”

“I’ll let you know when it is ready.” He said before kissing your cheek and shuffling out.

You sighed while getting up, looking around the room to where your phone might be. The least you could do is tell your friends that you’re okay.

Finally you find it when looking through his drawers. Low battery but still useful.

You looked at some messages from friends. Messages from coworkers asking about your whereabouts. Before you could answer them, your phone was suddenly snatched away.

“What are you doing?!” Hyunjin yelled frantically while holding your phone back.

“Jinnie, I just wanted to tell my friends im okay—”

Suddenly the man throws your phone to the floor, definitely destroying it in the process.

“You can’t!” He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you close as you started to cry.

“No! Don’t cry, my love!” He got on his knees in front of you and had his forehead to your hand. “Forgive me!”

“Why’d you break it?!”

“Someone could find you!!”

“Hyunjin—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he got up and suddenly grabbed you by the face and started desperately making out with you.

It caught you by surprise and you tried pulling away to breathe, only for him to pull you back in.

“My queen…” he whispered briefly between kisses. “Darling… please…”

He was frantic. These kisses were desperate and you were finally able to pull away.

“My Love, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He frowned.

“I wanna go outside…” you said in a hushed tone. “Please… I’ll be so happy…”

Hyunjin was conflicted. He wants to please you and do whatever to make you happy but also wanted to keep you safe. He was sure someone would do something if you went outside. And what if you leave??

“There is a park nearby…” he sighed. “Not too many people are there…”

“Can we have a picnic?!” You perked up and he loved the little happy glow on your face.

“Yes of course! Anything for you, my queen.”

You were so happy to hear this and gave him a big hug.

~~~~~~ 👑

After getting some food prepared and getting dressed, Hyunjin was ready for your little picnic.

You emerged from the room in a blue sun dress along with a white cardigan. Hyunjin was head over heels when seeing you. He kissed your hand and bowed a little before putting a sun hat on you.

“We must protect your pure skin.”

He wasn’t entirely truthful about that. Yes, protecting your skin was important, but he actually wanted to be sure that no one would recognize you.

“My queen, you are the most beautiful woman to walk this earth.” He said while rubbing your hand.

“Thank you, Jinnie.” You blushed. He always knew how to make you feel special…

~~~ 👑

Walking out the front door, you felt the cool air hit your face and sighed. Fresh air and feeling of freedom.

You could run. You had the chance… but why would you do that? Hyunjin would be sad. And you? Well, you’d lose your dear lover.

The park was a short walk away. He held your hand and draped a blanket over his other.

You held the basket with food. Luckily it wasn’t too heavy.

Hyunjin was relieved to see that there was almost no one around. There seemed to be another couple there that were having their own little date but that was all.

It was an ideal day. Warm but lightly breezy. The sky was clear and sun shining.

“Darling, should we set up here?” He asked.

“Yeah this is fine.”

Hyunjin was quick to set up. He laid out the blanket and pulled food from the basket. Two sandwiches, some grapes, strawberries, and blueberries. There was also two cans of soda.

You didn’t have to do anything. Only sit there and be pretty.

Soon enough, you were enjoying lunch. Hyunjin fed you the grapes and strawberries, saying that they were fresh berries from the garden. Whenever he spoke you only giggled. As delusional as his words were, you thought it was cute.

To anyone outside looking in, it just looks like you were having a cute date with a sweet boy.

There was a path nearby so people would walk by every once in a while. Hyunjin only glared at them or make it a point to suddenly kiss you.

Being out here in public had him on edge. No one should lay their eyes on his beautiful queen.

“Darling, are you having a good time?”

“Yes.” You nodded with a big smile. “I am!”

He was glad to hear and pulled you in for another kiss. You actually chased his lips when he momentarily pulled away and made little desperate whines as you added more passion into this kiss.

“My queen…” he whispered against your lips. “Do you love me?”

“Mmhm.” You replied while lightly nodding. “More than anything.”

Hyunjin’s heart was pounding. He was so happy to hear this and he couldn’t help himself as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Jinnie, I want more…” you whispered.

“More?”

“More…” you moaned while kissing him again and taking his hand, moving it up your thigh. Not seemingly caring who could possibly watch.

“My Queen…” he chuckled. “The guards will not appreciate such actions in public…”

“Oh?” You pouted while moving the skirt of your dress over his hand so no one could see. “I wanna go back to the castle, Jinnie…”

“Of course, my queen!” You said nodded and stood up instantly.

You couldn’t wait…

~~~~~~~ 👑

[6pm]

Soon enough you found yourself in the bedroom. Soft airy moans escaped your lips as you moved. You were riding Hyunjin’s cock while he laid down. He looking up in admiration; your beautiful form and desperate face was incredibly hot to him.

Here you are, desperately grinding against him with nothing but your bra on. He loves it.

There were no thoughts. Your mind was mush as you continued. Hyunjin had his hands on your hips but it was you doing the work. He may not be directly controlling you, but in a way he had you under some control.

“Jinnie~” you moaned softly. “Jinnie~”

“Fuck yourself as much as you want, my love.” He grunted, obviously trying to control himself as well. Something about seeing his lovely and pure queen doing something not so pure was really getting him worked up. Corruption. And only he could do it.

Soon enough, you came; your eyes rolled back and back slightly arched. It was the best orgasm you’d had in a while…You were in a daze as Hyunjin bucked his hips to get his high as well. The overwhelming feeling had you whimpering.

After pulling out, he grabbed your panties and sweatpants, putting them on you before laying down next to you.

In this moment, you were in love. It must be daze you’re in… all your worries about your situation had disappeared. What situation? Being with the man you love? The man that believes you’re royalty?

Are you… the delusional one?

696 notes · View notes

ohcaptains · 1 year

Text

abby love theme

pairing. abby anderson x f!reader

synopsis. abby begs for forgiveness. then tries to make it up to you.

an. :) hey. do people read this bit? lemme know if you read this bit. also, did you know i’m a gamer girl now? -- looks like i’ve made writing for a dead fandom a thing so, might as well carry on. apologies if this isn’t your thing, but abby got me out of a month long writing slump so !

warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving oral, female receiving penetration (fingers), spit play, slightly mean! abby, hair pulling, and angst but mostly just graphic smut lol.

When Abby comes back, she’s apologetic.

She unlocks the door – as quietly as humanly possible – and gently pushes it back into the latch. Then, as always, bolts the top and bottom, an instinct, from doing it every night.

She’s always the first person up, and the last person in. Always the last one to get into bed – on your side, because you’re always asleep on her side – and the last one to say goodnight.

Now, though, she’s saying, “I’m sorry.” Standing at the edge, and whispering it at the back of your head, the soft verbiage a thunderclap in the soundless cocoon of your room. If you heard her, you give her no inclination.

It looks as if you’re sound asleep, and usually, Abby would do her best not to disturb your peace, but right now, she’s seconds away from begging.

So, she does something similar.

Clambers onto your shared bed, knees digging into the springs, and shuffles up close. Plunges her hands under and around you, and pulls you against her, speaking before you can. Just, speaking into the back of your neck – lips wet and swollen from her nervous chewing.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she starts, which, in her mind, is the crux of the whole ordeal. Shouldn’t have yelled, shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, and yelled and that’s exactly what she’s saying, saying, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions and got distant and annoying. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.

Hands tighten around your middle, and at some point, you grab onto them. “I thought – “she’s going again. “I thought you were pulling away, so I did the same. It was stupid and childish and I’m sorry, I won’t – “

She repeats it like she’s stuck in a loop.

“– I won’t do it again I promise.”

She kisses the back of your neck and nuzzles deeper like she’s trying to imprint it onto your spinal cord – forcing it to travel up into your brain. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ll stay, hear you out – won’t yell, I’m sorry.”

Her kisses travel across your jaw, all punctuated with the same apologetic phrase. You’re awake now – awake as soon as she clambered onto the bed, as graceful as a truck – and you twist to greet her mouth.

Kiss her, and shut her up, yet still – she manages to say it again.

“’ m’ sorry,” she mumbles into your mouth. You can taste how sorry she is. Feel it, the desperation, in her wandering hands – pulling you into her, palming your lower back and twisting your shirt into her fist.

She says it as she rolls on top of you. Her knees push against your hips, ass against your crotch, and she’s still got your top stretched between her fingers.

Abby tongues her way into your mouth and you gasp, lifting your head off of the pillows to follow her mouth. “’ m’ sorry,” she goes again, making out with you. Wet and wanting, the kind of kiss that could only happen at two in the morning.

The gasp you sounded before turns into a whimper. Her kiss is intoxicating and knocks you for six – makes you loose and easy to manoeuvre. Abby drags kisses over your cheek, scattering them under your jaw as she repeats her apology again and again.

The heat of her, the weight of her – consumes you. You’d forgiven her hours ago. Feels like you’d always forgive Abby, no matter what she did. Even if she was quick to anger. Read things wrong. She always came home with her tail between her legs.

“Don’t yell at me like that again, Abby.”

“I won’t — “she immediately goes, her voice strained. She lifts her head and watches you, inches away, her face clouded in darkness. “I promise. I promise, um’sorry.”

Abby is gorgeous. Always has been. But she’s never more gorgeous than when she’s inches away, mouth against yours, with her blue eyes big and wanting. When she dips to kiss your neck again, you sigh out into your shared bedroom.

“’s’ okay, baby,” you breathe – finally – eyes fluttering closed and fingers reaching to slide into her hair. You hum, the swell of her mouth and wet of her tongue opening you up. It forces your legs to hang open around her hips.

Makes you loose and liquid, but she switches, sucks at the hollow of your throat, and you tighten up, fingers, legs, and hips -- pushing up into hers.

“Fuck—” you moan, back arching, “’s’ okay, Abby.”

It’s like she can’t hear you.

Spurred on by an obscene need, she’s sucking bruises into your skin. Gripping at your clothing and pulling it into her fist – tight -- not daring to let go.

“Abby,” you whisper, trying to turn to her, but she refuses to budge. Just. Sits on your lap and marks you with her mouth. She’s still cladded in her pants, the ones with the pockets and buckles. Wearing her shirt with the cut-off sleeves, smelling faintly of the gym.

Had gone to work her frustration out, then came home to apologise. Again, and again and again and she says it, again. Grounds her hips into yours, and you don’t think she even knows she’s doing it. Don’t think she knows she’s pushing the buckle of her belt against your crotch, the bite of it grinding through your sleep shorts.

“Mm, Abby,” you sigh again, twisting – again. Still, she doesn’t move. You grip the back of her head and pull her hair, catching her lips in yours before she can complain. You kiss her as she kissed you before. Tongue in her mouth, desperation in your fingertips – Abby mumbles, sorry, between the spit and teeth.

“I know,” you whisper, jutting your hips against hers.

“I know, baby,” you repeat, dragging the words under her chin, followed by the mesh of your mouth, teeth scraping against her jaw. You kiss away the red, say, I know, and taste her again. Repeat the motion, and Abby loves it. Has always loved when you got a little rough with her.

Takes a lot for Abby Anderson to break. She hums your name, and whispers, “Fuck,” when you suck a mark under her jaw, then, suddenly, she’s pulling away.

Leans back on your lap, tall and overwhelming, and reaches down, dragging the hem of her shirt up and over her head. You gaze at her as she throws it behind her, followed by the tug of her bra, and before you get the chance to gaze at her chest, she’s back and kissing you.

“Lemme make it up to you,” she breathes into your mouth. She pushes her chest into yours, and you feel her – the lines of her muscles, the softness of her tits, and Abby clutches your vest again, so tight that you’re basically not wearing it – the fabric bunched up in the middle.

You whisper, “take my shirt off then,” and she takes your shorts off, too.

Strips you bare, and kisses where your clothes once touched. Tongue curling around a nipple, fingers tugging at the other – trailing spit down your belly, palm flat on your heart, hips stretching lower and lower, until you watch her drag her teeth under your belly button.

You choke a gasp, and Abby smiles. A small one, but it’s there, and it twists mischievously as she lowers her tongue and swirls it above your crotch. “Shit – Abs,” you whisper, pulling your knuckles into your mouth.

You’re so sensitive there, and Abby knows. Knows that the feeling always shoots down lower and pushes against your clit. Abby’s chest is barely brushing against it.

She swirls her tongue again, sucking a mark as her wide, strong palms pull your thighs up. She gets comfortable laying between your legs.

“Did I mention that I was sorry?” Abby asks, mouth exploring. Her teasing forces something warm and buttery to bloom in your chest. The feeling triples as her mouth dips, scattering wet, intricate kisses over your inner thighs. Her thick fingers jut into your skin, rubbing circles into your thighs, and pushing at your lower stomach. Your hips buck into her face. “Mm, yeah – think so,” you quickly rush, words high pitch and desperate. Abby glances up at you, her blue eyes are bright and brilliant. You have to reach down between your thighs and cup her cheek.

Have to swipe your thumb at the spit she’s got smeared over her lips, and Abby’s tongue comes out, running over your skin before she sucks your finger into her mouth. Your face twists, lips parting.

Whispering, “might have to show me how sorry you are, though.” “Yeah?” Abby immediately breathes, barely looking at you. Too busy swirling her tongue around your thumb. Your heart thumps a beating drum, clit throbs, and you clench, humming her name.

Say, “Abs,” and her eyes open -- pupils are blown wide. A conniving smirk on her pretty face, and she growls and bites – pretending to chomp on your finger. You pull your hand away, giggling, saying, “what the hell, Abby!” but she’s not listening. Too busy hitching your hips up.

Too busy dribbling spit onto your pussy, and your giggle twists to a loud gasp as she drags the flat of her tongue from your hole to your clit. Your body shatters. Her name is a strangled sob, and you have to muffle it with the back of your palm.

“Fuck,” you whimper, not having enough energy to cuss her out. Not that you want to, anyway. Even if she deserves it. Even if you still want to be angry at her, but what good would that do?

She’d literally crawled into bed with her metaphorical tail between her legs. The hot-headed Abby Anderson, who only ever wanted to be good. That is who you fell in love with.

She drags her tongue through your folds again. Relaxed, slow, and sensual. Again, and again Taking her time with you because she could. Because you’d let her – let her do anything, really.

Let her swirl her tongue around your clit, saliva drooling over your heat, and dripping between your legs.

A warm, welcome heat spreads across your thighs, pushing at your belly and spine, forcing you to squirm – or at least try and squirm away from it, but Abby keeps you locked where she wants you.

Sucks your clit into her mouth, and you moan, back trying to arch, but shit, she won’t let you.

“A-Abby,” you hiccup, arching as far as she’ll let. Your fingers search for something to grab onto — one finds the sheets, and the other finds her hair, where it pushes into her messy braid and tugs, both frustrated and turned on beyond relief.

You say her name again, a plead to stop, a plead to carry on, forever.

Abby chooses the latter, and it does feel like forever. Feels like a lifetime of her dragging her tongue through your folds. Her nose pushes into your heat, and the wet of you soaks her chin.

She sinks a finger inside, and you moan her God damn name.

She doesn’t slow down — why would she? but most of all, how could she? When you’re stretched out on the bed she shares with you, naked, and whispering her name.

Again and again, Abby, Abby, Abby.

The beating of a drum — one that matches the buzzing, fluttering, and flapping of her heart. How can she stop, when you’re clenching around her middle finger, moaning deep and long — a drawn-out sound that echoes around the room. You soak her finger, too. Soak both when she adds another. Abby curses.

“Maybe I should piss you off more often if this is my penance.”

It’s hard to speak, but still, you manage.

“Fuck—d-don’t get it twisted— “you tighten your grip on her hair, “--you’re still—still in the doghouse.”

Abby pouts, eyeing you, “but I’m being such a good boy.”

“Jesus Christ.”

You have to let go of the sheet to cover your face. Then, moan into your knuckle as you clench, her fingers stretching you out.

Abby hums a laugh, “you like that, huh?”

Your rebuttal is quiet, a whisper of a sound as you utter —

“No one likes a show-off.”

“But you do.”

“Yeah— “you sigh, clenching again, the feeling building behind your clit. “I do.”

Too much, sometimes. Feels like you’re so full of love for Abby Anderson that you’re fit to burst.

Her fingers speed up. Deep and long, but at the perfect tempo to have your legs shaking. Have you biting at the back of your hand, too, to stop you from screaming and waking up the entire floor.

She has her calloused hands holding your legs against the bed, and it’s all take and take and take. The obscene pressure makes you drift off, and you’re lightheaded and docile when she asks,

“I make you feel safe, right?”

“W-what?”

The question knocks you for a loop. You look down at her, eyes blown, forehead furrowed, and a smile drags onto her stubborn face. She rests her forehead on your lower stomach and speaks into your skin as she stretches you open with her fingers. You gasp, eyes rolling back.

“S’ what you said, earlier — that I make you feel safe.”

You don’t remember saying that. Did you say that? You must have. You try and think back to the argument. Think back to her getting insecure and angry about Mel saying that Abby hovers around you all the time.

I like having you around Abby, you make me feel safe.

When you don’t respond, she picks up the speed. Drags her fingers through your cunt -- makes you squirm and drench her fingers, a shocked gasp choking at your throat. The sound grabs her attention, and she snaps up, the heat of her stare a living, breathing thing.

“Right?” she repeats.

“Yes,” you gasp, hot all over, then, “Fuck — yes.”

“You like having me around, yes?”

“Yes Abby, yes yesyes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah — fuck, even if you, drive me fucking crazy— “

She sucks your clit into her mouth again, and you break.

“—oh holy shit, yes, please, Abby please keep doing that please keep doing that, please, please, please, please, please.”

You’re wired. The drag of her fingers. The warm, tight, suck of her mouth. Delirious. You moan her name as if it’s the only word you know. Right now, it is. The brain fog is seeping in, and you can’t remember why you were mad. What did she do again? You clench down on her fingers, so tight that it hurts.

“Abs — um’gonna come. Fuck, please, please let me come I want it want it so bad.”

Abby doesn’t speak, just grunts, and nods her head against your cunt. Nods, and nods, and loosens her grip on your legs, letting you – finally – rest your thighs against her shoulders as the harsh, hot feeling spills over you. Your eyes roll back, fingers coil in her hair, and everything is clenched and tense and tight, until you release, wet and hot and intense.

“Oh my fucking God—Abby, Abby, Ohm’god, so fuck—” the words dribble out of your mouth like spit. Mindless, dredged up from somewhere dark and damp, saved for this moment only. Abby bathes in them, never stopping her fingers, never stopping her tongue as she soaks you up, your body shaking from under her grip.

At some point, she watches, and God – it’s a sight to behold. When the feeling fizzles out, and you’re gasping in air, your flustered face staring down at her, she stretches up. Kisses you and spreads your musk over your lips as she tongues her way into your mouth, her wet fingers grabbing a hold of your cheek to keep you steady. She says some words of her own, but you barely hear them, still drunk and dizzy from how far she took you.

With shaky, weak hands, you reach down for the buckle of her jeans. “’ S’my turn,” you mumble against her mouth, and she laughs quietly. “My turn, you mean.” “Mm,” you hum, kissing the taste of you off of her lips. Still fuzzy, you go dizzy when you shake your head at her. “You okay sweetheart?” she laughs, and you roll your eyes. “’ jus’ gimmie a minute, then it’ll be my turn.”

Abby always tries to keep quiet at first. You thought it was a pride thing, then briefly, a shame thing, but then you realised, it was just an Abby Thing. Another Abby Thing -- is that she likes to watch.

Props herself onto her elbows – with one hand in your hair – and gazes down at you between her thighs. It’s what she’s doing now. Her fingers are lax in your strands, and eyes are lazy as she regards you with curiosity.

Tongue in the corner of her mouth, a furrow in her brows, as you kiss at the inside of her muscular thighs. You move with no real direction, and Abby gets lost in the bobbing of your head, the slow build before you’re dragging your tongue over the thin skin between her thigh and pussy, and she opens her mouth to make a sound. Still. She’s silent.

Achingly so.

You brush your mouth against her. Just an inch. Just a touch, and look up, catching her blue gaze. A small, teasing smile quirks at her lips, and she raises a brow, silently saying, well, go on then.

One thing that surprised you about Abby, was how nice she was.

Reserved, yes – but nice. Nice, until she got mean. Despicable. You love all sides of her, but it’s moments like this, where you particularly love the mean part of her.

The part that tightens her grip on your hair – tight and unforgiving – as you drool so much spit onto her pussy that it drips over your chin and soaks the mattress. The part that tuts when you start too fast, causing her to say, slow – slow down pretty, go slow for me. The part that lifts your head when you don’t slow down, spitting, what the fuck did I just say?

But this moment? this moment isn’t like that at all. There’s no mean Abby. There’s only the thankful Abby. The one who whispers praises at you, eyes locked on the way you swipe your spit over her cunt, pushing it into her, and tasting how wet she got from making you come.

She says that’s it, so faintly, that you barely hear her. But no matter, she’s saying it again. Saying, that’s it, baby, as you build up the momentum, just barely touching her clit – like she taught you. You always were a good listener. It’s how you hear the hushed sound she sighs. How you hear her low grunt, followed by her high-pitched intake of breath as you nudge your nose against the swollen bundle of nerves.

She’s soaking.

Completely drenched and knowing that she got like this from eating you out fuels your desire. Forces you to abandon your slow movements, and instead, begin to consume her. Tongue flat, fingers tight on her hips, you work her over, drooling and moaning, and swirling your tongue over her clit until she has to make a sound.

“Shit,” she grunts, and you glance up at her. She’s chewing on her bottom lip. Jaw clenched, eyes blown and cheeks red – trying to keep herself contained. You have to smile. Have to grin at her as you roll your tongue over her clit, watching her desperately try and cling to any sense of sanity. It’s no use though, because when you suck her clit into your mouth – sloppy with spit -- she has to look away.

She can’t hold herself up anymore, either, and she falls back to the pillows, back immediately arching, and she has to drag her bicep over her face, hiding her face from view as she moans a deep and guttural, “Fucccckkkkk,” into the bedroom.

Her fingers clutch your hair, and she uses her grip as leverage and grinds her cunt against your mouth and chin. You let go of her clit and flatten your tongue, letting her use you.

“Yes—” she gasps, mouth opening, and you would be seeing her face twist, if not for her thick bicep covering her face. The veins in her arm are ticking, and you notice that her ab muscles are clenching, too, so you reach up slowly, sliding your palm over her sweaty chest, and running your thumb over her tense skin, hoping to soothe the tension.

“Abs,” you whisper, slowing your pace. “Mmh?” she hums, and you slide your fingers further, dragging them over her tits. “Relax,” you hush, and she laughs, the sound bursting from her throat before it breaks into a breathy moan as you switch up -- twist your tongue around her clit, rotating between swirling and sucking, swirling, and sucking until she lets go of your hair completely.

Has to fidget -- can’t lay still. She’s arching her back, clutching the duvet, then grabbing your hair again, sobbing your name, over and over, as you suck and swirl at her swollen clit. Watching her lose control is intoxicating. It’s forcing an ache to build between your thighs, but not as strong as Abby’s, who’s moaning and cursing.

“Keep doing that – keep doing that baby, ‘s’ fucking good. Please, please don’t fucking stop, shit.”

God, it’s so hot – stopping has never crossed your mind.

“’um ‘gonna come,” she whispers, so quiet that you have to strain to hear it. But then, she’s shaking her head, changing her mind. “Don’t wanna – don’t wanna come, 'cause I don’t want it to stop.” “You can come—” you grant, sucking her wetness into your mouth and spitting it back into her cunt. Abby whimpers, not daring to look. Though, she does when you declare, “—um’ not gonna stop.”

Cranes her neck up, then immediately regrets it. You’ve got one hand on her hip, and the other is between your thighs, where you’re steadily grinding against it. She’s speechless for a second, just, watching you grind your cunt into your knuckles, and then she’s asking, “Are you touching yourself?”

Heat floods your body for a fleeting beat, but then you’re moaning into her pussy, nodding, saying, “you’re so fucking hot, Abs. Mm’ sorry.”

Mean Abby would have chastised you, but this is the thankful Abby, this is the Abby who shakes her head, laughs, and says, “Shit, and you wonder why I don’t leave you alone.” “Don’t,” you immediately respond. You can sense her confusion, so you decide to be honest. “Don’t leave me alone. I like – like having you around, like people seeing us together,” you admit. Like it when she’s in earshot. When she buys you drinks and helps you out. When she refuses to let you go on runs without her, not because you can’t do it, but because why should you? When she can do it with you.

Like it when she hands you the big gun, kisses your forehead and says, be safe. When she picks you over all the grown, muscular men in the team, not out of loyalty, but because she trusts you, more than anyone she’s ever met before.

You’re fueled with passion – a desire for her, and it forces you to drag your fingers from her hip and under your chin, palm up, before pushing your middle finger into her cunt.

Abby groans, loud — the bellow of it echoing against the walls, and she moans as she gushes over your lips. You taste her; suck her into your mouth before you say, I like belonging to you, Abby, and Abby fucking sobs.

Whimpers like a wounded animal, whimpers like it hurts, says, say that again, please say that again. And so, you do. Moan it into the wet heat of her, your lips swollen, and your chin soaked. Try to imprint the words onto her skin, so she’ll never doubt herself again.

“It’s gonna be big –” she sobs, hiccuping the words, “--can feel it in my fucking chest.”

She drags her arms up, hands clutched together above her head so her elbows rest on her forehead, and you watch her mouth twist, jaw clench, then she’s cursing, gasping, saying, “shit – um’ gonna--” and she does.

Comes all over your mouth and chin, wet and hot, and loud. You lap her up, tasting the salt and spit and hearing her sob your name with a complete lack of self-awareness. It rings in your ears, makes you laugh – prideful – and Abby gasps one, too, but the sound morphs into a whine as you drag out the sensitivity, overstimulating her with your mouth and fingers.

When it gets too much for her, she grunts a curse, her hand coming down to grab your head and she uses a fist full of your hair to pull you away. You look up at her, cheeks glistening, and grin.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderon smut #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #the last of us #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us 2 #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson fan fic #tlou2 fanfic #tlou2 abby anderson #abby anderson the last of us #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson tlou

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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months

Text

Banquet of Massacre.

Yan Geto x F Reader.

Synopsis: The days are blending into each other, and you just want some sort of change. But soon, you realize you have to be far more careful about what you wish for.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, not SFW implications, takes place five or so years before JJK 0, and violence.

Continuation of Presentiment of Massacre.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

The green obi gently tightening with each passing second stops at your words, but after a chuckle resumes, the slight anger in Geto’s voice is smaller than the width of a hair.

He continues with the loose, wide red sodes. You focus so much on your anxiety, about what the rest of your life will be, that you don’t notice the small golden details of koi on the red sleeves. You don’t even pay attention to the silk that ties your wrists together, a consequence of you attempting to squirm your way out of dinner again. Not that dinner was anything special this evening.

“You know,” His voice rises and falls like the wind. “Perhaps there are some things you shouldn’t say to the only reason you are still alive.”

With that, he pulls, much harder than before, on the ends of the sash, causing you to gasp for air for a moment or two.

“I could still feed you to one of my curses you know, or all of them at the same time, they would love to get a taste of you.”

At your desperate whines, as you attempt to claw at the ceiling with restrained hands, he lets go, and with his action, your vision blurs no longer.

He spins you around and he licks his lips.

“I-I’m sorry, Master Geto.” You might be uncertain if you mean your apology, but perhaps Geto has the answer.

Just as you are not sure if Geto forgives you, but he knows the answer for sure.

The woman sitting next to both of you on the floor holds a golden hairpin in her ragged, scarred hands. She holds the hairpin just like she held the underlayer, obi string, socks, obi, and sash. She held and currently holds them all so delicately because she did not want to lose her hands. She was your handmaiden, according to Geto, and although the two of you had never exchanged words, you knew her first name was Sookee, but her last name was of no relevance if it even existed.

Even though she was around your age, Sookee looked much older than she was because of her premature wrinkles and little white hairs sticking out of her bangs, clear signs of all the stress Geto and the rest of the people here put her through. She was an indentured servant of sorts, from what you were told, and she, like you, is often tormented by the people who live here.

You feel bad for her, whenever you hear her screams and cries, whenever she trips and breaks a porcelain teapot and gets beaten for it, or when she is too late to dress you for supper, which always causes Geto to summon a curse that is so ugly and follows her for the rest of the day and makes crude comments toward her.

There was one time that it actually bit her, and after an hour’s worth of begging, Sookee earned the right to bandage herself up.

“Monkey,” The word is bitter on his tongue and lingers in the air for far longer than either Sookee or you would have liked. “Pin.”

Although you sympathize with Sookee, your instinct urges you to prioritize your well-being before her.

“Since you are so ungrateful for the life I have given you, maybe it would be better to make you like Sookee. Would you like that, princess? To be lesser than a pauper?”

You deeply repent for uttering a single word, which emerges from your lips with complete despair. Meanwhile, Geto wears a smile as he delicately places the luxurious golden hairpin, worth more than your two kidneys combined, into your hair. With a dismissive gesture and a piercing look, he sends Sookee away, and she quietly shuts the door behind her.

You don’t stop him from pushing you onto the bed, large enough for at least five people to rest on, because really is there anything you can do? “You’re so pretty. The loveliest one, the only one worthy of what I am about to do.”

You are trapped here, forever bound by him. The door is guarded by a terrifying curse that ensures your confinement, although Geto's power makes it unnecessary. You find yourself in this place, adorned in the kimono he compelled you to wear, lying in his bed, with the makeup Sookee was forced to apply on you. And here you are, hearing his whispered words of affection as he lies upon you.

“Since you are so ungrateful for what you already have, I will give you more and more, my love, until you regret ever wishing for a life outside of this one.”

#aya abstractions #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere geto #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #jjk x reader #yandere geto x reader #yandere suguru #yandere suguru geto

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harrywavycurly · 1 month

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What You Deserve Part 5: Details

Masterlist: Here

CW: brief mention of toxic ex

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy this update it answers some questions and shows another side of Eddie, it’s a long one and I broke it up into sections!✨

“What…are those?” “They’re called flowers.” “And who..are they for?” “They are for you…you didn’t expect me to show up to our first…date empty handed did you?” “This…this is a date? You’re calling this a date? We are on a date?” “Hey hey relax a bit please it’s okay…I just…I mean yes? I’d call this a date because it’s…well it’s when we are going to discus our…relationship so yeah…it’s a date.” “Okay…” “is that okay? It doesn’t need to be a date if it’s too-” “No no it’s a date…yeah we…are going on a date.” “Perfect…uhm do you want to maybe…get in the car now?”

“Holy shit.” “What’s wrong?…are you cold? You can wear my jacket if you’d like?” “Sorry I’m fine it’s just….I didn’t get a good look at you in the car because I was distracted by the flowers but…seriously…do you always just look like…this?” “Uh…yes?” “You…you look like you just walked out of a magazine and…well I look-” “Amazing…you look amazing…now unless you have anymore questions…we do have a reservation that we are almost late for.” “This place looks nice…you come here a lot?” “Oh yeah…I take all my first dates here.” “I can see why…” “you…do know I was joking right?… I’ve actually never been here before.” “Oh yeah…yeah I knew that.”

“So…uhm what are some things you…don’t want me to do?” “Oh right to the point huh? Can’t even let me order you a glass of wine first?” “You want to order…for me?” “Oh forgive me….I didn’t mean for it to sound like you can’t order yourself a glass of wine I know you’re more than capable of telling people what you want.” “It’s okay I’ve just…never had someone offer to order for me before.” “Well I’m more than happy to if you want…” “thank you…so-” “hi welcome to Enzo’s what can I get you to drink?” “Hello…I’ll have a glass of your house red and a water to start.” “Perfect…and for you dear? What would you like?” “Uhm…uh…there’s a lot of uhm choices…uh-” “if you’re not sure I can just come back?” “Uh Eddie can you-” “I’ve got you sweetheart…she’ll have a glass of your white wine and a water with lemon please.” “Excellent choice…I’ll get those right out to you.”

“So you asked easier what are some things I would prefer for you not to do…and that’s actually a tough question to answer because I don’t want you to feel like you have a set of rules to follow because you don’t…” “Okay…well there are uh some things…that uhm I’d like if you…didn’t…do.” “Such as?” “I don’t like being around uhm…men when they drink too much so…if you do want to go and get drunk please just…don’t invite me along or…show up at my house banging on my door or yelling my name from the front porch.” “Has…that happened before?” “Yes…several times…and each time it ended…badly.” “It ended badly?…do you mind explaining what that means?” “I don’t want to ruin…the mood by talking about what an asshole my ex is.” “Understandable…so what else would you like for me not to do?” “This one might sound a little odd but..I don’t like being called babe…it just…I don’t like it.” “It’s not odd…we all have names we don’t like to be called…is there anything else?” “I don’t think so.” “Well if you think of anything else…just let me know because I don’t want to do anything or say anything that’ll upset you.”

“How was your dinner?” “It was great…that place was really good and so cute I can see why you picked it for our…uhm first date.” “I’m glad you enjoyed it…do you mind taking a walk with me? I know we have a few more things to…discuss.” “A walk sounds nice…oh you’re a hand holder? I didn’t see that coming.” “Really? Why? Do I not look like someone who likes to hold hands?” “No you look like a…shove my hands in my jacket pocket type of guy or…let me act like I’m busy on my phone so no one bothers me kind of guy.” “I see…well your hands just looked too good not to hold.” “I have been told I have nice hands once or twice.” “You know what? I actually believe that…so I was wondering if we could talk more about what we both want out of this…and maybe set up some…boundaries of some sort?” “You start…what do you want from all of this Edward?” “Ah back to Edward are we?” “Oh shit sorry Eddie.” “It’s okay…well what I want out of this is just…to spend time with you doing things as simple as this…a walk around downtown or more…extravagant things like trips to wherever you’d like to go…but most importantly I just want to make your life easier.” “And…all of that would make…you happy?” “Yes…it would.” “I just don’t see how spending money on me will make you happy?” “It’s not necessarily about spending money on you…yes I have the money to spend but it’s about having someone to do things with…and knowing you’re not stressed or worried about things that I can…easily take care of for you.” “Okay…that kinda makes sense.” “I have managed to build this wonderful life for myself and…I just want someone to enjoy it with me that’s all.” “And that someone is me?” “If you want it to be.” “Okay…but you just have to know this is going to take some getting used to.” “I understand…you’ll have to be patient with me as well because I’m used to doing things alone.” “So we both have to be patient with one another…that can be one of our ground rules.” “Okay…if we are making ground rules let’s add honesty to that list…that’s a big one for me because I don’t have time for games…just tell me the truth…even if you think it’ll hurt my feelings.” “That’s a good one!”

“So…what about you? What do you want out of this?” “I just…I just want to know what it feels like to be…treated well.” “I promise you I can do that.” “Oh trust me…I know.” “Is there anything else you want or…need from me?” “There is one more thing.” “What is it?” “I need you to save Dave.” “You…need me to save…Dave?” “Yes because he means a lot to me and I just…I need you to save him.” “Okay sweetheart…I’ll save him.” “You promise?” “Yes…even if it means he gets a whole heart and brain transplant…I’ll save him.” “Oh thank god…I was so worried you’d tell me you can’t do it.” “Why wouldn’t I be able to do it? You don’t trust my abilities as a mechanic? That hurts…that actually hurts.” “Oh no no I’m sure you’re great with your hands and…getting dirty and…stuff i just…thought maybe you’d say it was a waste of money or something.” “I’ll be honest with you…I could buy you a new car for what it’s going to cost me to fix Dave but…I get it…he means a lot to you.” “Thank you Eddie.” “Anytime.”

“This…was really nice Eddie…thank you.” “I’m happy you had a good time.” “I just…I have one more question.” “I was waiting for this one…go ahead and ask it.” “What do I call you now that we…have set up the ground rules and are actually…moving forward with…this.” “What would you like to call me? Besides Edward.” “I…don’t know? What…do you want to call me?” “Is it wrong that my first instinct was to say mine?” “You…want to call me…yours? Like…like…I’m…yours?” “I would…but if that’s too assertive or makes you uncomfortable-” “I’d like that.” “You would?” “Yes…uh I…would.” “Okay…well you can call me whatever you’d like.” “Uhm does…that include like…boyfriend or…something?” “Sure…whatever feels comfortable.” “Okay…thank you again…for everything.” “You’re welcome…have a goodnight sweetheart…don’t forget to put those flowers in a vase with some water.” “I don’t own a-” “I’ll bring one by tomorrow.” “You don’t have to do that.” “I know…now I have a question for you.” “What is it?” “What time do you normally get up in the morning?” “Oh uhm…like nine or so on weekends.” “Perfect…I’ll be here at ten then….goodnight.” “Goodnight…uhm can you uh text me when you get home?” “Sure…can’t have you up all night worried about me.” “Exactly…” “You’re going to have to go inside or I’ll stand out here and find an excuse to keep talking to you all night.” “Oh..right…goodnight Eddie.”

#what you deserve series #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #sugar daddy!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

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hysteria-things · 3 months

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TWO

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: apologies are getting thrown at you left and right, but will you accept them?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, a little angst

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 583

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the support for the first part was CRAZY i didn’t expect it to have that much hype! thank you guys🫶

forgot to mention this series will have social media and all that as well :)

the party went on without any trouble, but you were also purposely attached to nate’s hip so you didn’t have to have another intervention with the triplets.

you woke up the next morning to numerous instagram notifications. squinting your eyes, you open the messages. you’re still not fully awake to comprehend who sent them.

the two of you exchanged a few more words to discuss a time for them to come over, and at this moment, it is that time.

you take a deep breath before opening the door, the three of them staring at you with the same sad expression. your parents are at work, so you guys have the house to yourselves.

they walk in in silence that’s a bit awkward. it feels like you guys are strangers, and it fucking hurts.

you’ve thought a few times about how this grudge against them is so silly, but then you think back at the memories and realize that you’re allowed to be angry. you never believed the saying “LA CHANGES PEOPLE”, but turns out that might be true.

matt clears his throat. “thank you for letting us speak with you.”

“sure.”

glances are exchanged before nick starts speaking. “we’ll say we’re sorry a million times if we have to. you have every right to be mad at us. we let the fame get to our heads too much, and it’s selfish what we did to you. you don’t have to accept our apologies now, but we want you back in our lives, y/n.”

you nod at his words. they seem genuine, but deep down you still can’t forgive them fully. “i’m going to have to give it time.”

now it’s their turn to return the nod. “totally understandable.” chris says.

“but… i do miss you guys. maybe we can… start hanging out again?” you hesitate, taking your hand and rubbing it on the back of your neck.

the smallest hint of happiness spread across their faces. “done. we don’t go back to LA for a few weeks, but that doesn’t matter.” nick says with a smile.

“can i give you a hu—” you cut matt off by squeezing him tight. god, you missed them so much.

you give the same embrace to nick, but pause at chris.

you sigh. “you guys should head back home and hang out with your family.”

now it’s chris’s turn to think it. ouch.

they wave you goodbye and thank you again before walking off of your porch. you head up to your room, your back facing the door until you hear a voice.

“i want to see the note.”

you jump and turn around, seeing chris standing in the doorway. “go, chris. they’re waiting for you.”

“let them wait.” he says, stepping into the room. “i want to see the note.”

because you don’t have the energy to argue, you go over to where your wallet is and take the small piece of paper out. you hand it to chris.

he reads over it at least five times, getting more sad each time he does. how can he forget this?

“why’d you keep it? after all this time?”

you fight the tears burning up in your eyes, your throat feeling tight. “you asked me if i promised to keep it forever. i said i do.”

you huffed out a laugh, continuing. “at least one of us kept our promise.”

he frowns. “what was mine?”

“that you’d always be there for me.” you shrug. “no matter what.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #[ ✿ ] promise?

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yellow-berrys · 1 year

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sweet weeping soul | remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: your friends aren't really your friends, and remus lupin helps you realise that. a (hopefully realistic) tale of toxic friendship and how one escapes from it, into healthy relationships, both platonic and romantic. angst -> fluff

aka five times you cry in front of remus and one time he cries in front of you.

warnings: toxic platonic relationships, crying, sadness, envy, insecurity

navigation | masterlist

Remus Lupin makes you feel different, not yourself, per se. Around him, you become soft and reserved. It’s rare you have a conversation anyway— for you never really talk to him, or spend heaps of time around him. Lily is friends with him and you’re friends with Lily, so by extension he is your good friend too.

He is prettier than you and so kind, always with a cuddly quarter zip on or a fuzzy sweater. Sometimes he looks at you like he might kiss you, but you’ve seen him with other people and he looks at them the same, dark lashes nearly touching.

Remus has been told that he’s soft, all his life. There’s a steadiness gleaming from his kind honey-brown eyes, and a certain gentlemanly way to his neat strands of light brown hair. There’s gentle written all over him, and he always has a sweater on in the colder seasons. He always looks quiet, and he always is quiet, preferring to leave the talking to Sirius or James. Remus is everything consistent and everything mellow. A little mystery is woven into the way he does everything too. It makes him elusive, more interesting.

Mostly, he begs to differ. If you really get to know him, he swears like a sailor and is scarred like one too. His humour is snarky and sometimes crude. But he guesses that other people might be right, because he forgives too easily and loves too hard.

Especially as you’re alone at breakfast, sitting at your place down the table and playing with your food. You look a bit distraught, he thinks. Where’s Lily? And everyone else? You clatter down your fork because everything looks unappetising. Even the delicacies the house-elves prepare so painstakingly look dull and dreadful.

Remus notices your self-deprecating expression as a Slytherin girl passes by you and waves. She looks at you inquisitively and you respond with a small smile that is the furthest thing from genuine. She leaves with an arm hooked into her boyfriend’s, both looking worried for you. As she passes where Remus and the other Marauders are sitting, Remus can hear tid-bits of dialogue.

“Poor thing,” she says.

Remus decides you’re definitely not okay when even Sirius hums, “L/n isn’t looking too well today.”

You’re talking to Professor McGonagall now, a more amused smile on your face as you joke with her. But when she leaves you return to looking downtrodden and when you push your plate forward and start to get up from your seat, your eyes look empty. It’s when you hurry past him that he decides that he should go after you.

Fast taps against the tiles of the hallways alarm you. You turn and there’s Remus, long legs gaining mileage on you. He reaches you and you step to the side to let him go past. You’re confused when he stops before you. His eyes flicker down to yours and they’re filled with concern.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile politely and it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Remus hates it.

“I’m sorry if this comes off weird or creepy, but I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t look very happy,” he says quietly.

You laugh. Again, it doesn’t sound right. It sounds forced and stuffy, “It’s not weird and I’m fine.”

“Where are your friends?” he asks, gently.

You shrug. It’s heavy enough that Remus can tell that you care a lot.

“They’re all gone?”

“I heard them early in the morning,” you say, nodding slowly.

“Are you okay then?”

No. You had heard all the girls in the dorm giggling as they got ready at six in the morning, tippy-toeing around your bed. When you peeked an eye open, feigning slumber, Lily was wearing one of her date night dresses, a pretty sun-dress that was only used for picnics. Trixie from Hufflepuff was there, and so was Olive. You squeezed your eyes shut and when they were all gone you noticed the picnic basket was missing. Dread pooled in your stomach and you tried in all your might to believe that they went for a date or were going to come back up to invite you. You thudded down the stairs and asked a first year sitting by the portrait about them.

“They were talking about a big group date,” she swung her legs, “Something about a park.”

You had smiled, “Thanks.”

You look at Remus, “Yeah.” But your voice breaks embarrassingly midway and your tired, disappointed mood starts to wear through. It’s impossible to put up a front in front of Remus, who’s gazing at you in such a fret. But he’s Lily’s friend and Lily surely had her reasons to not invite you. After all, you have your problems. It makes sense that it’s probably your fault and Remus deserves not to know.

Remus tries to gauge the problem out of you- wheedle it and make it clear that he does care. Somewhere in your half-hearted smiles he’s developed a crush on you because he thinks your attempts to make him less worried are so sweet.

But you simply shake your head every time he wants to know what’s wrong and ignore that he’s very close and very handsome.

You set off to your dormitory, but realise that you don’t really want to be there. Remus can tell from the conflicted look in your face.

“I’ll sit with you in the common room and you can please, please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

He says it so earnestly that you nod, “Okay.”

“I woke up this morning and they were all getting ready for something, with the hair curler and dresses. That means going out, usually. And Lily was wearing her picnic dress, the one with little flowers on it. I heard them giggling as they all went out and I thought maybe they’ll come back for me. But when I sat up there wasn’t anyone in their beds and the picnic basket was gone. I didn’t know what had happened so I went downstairs to ask this first-year and she said they were going on a group trip, plus James.

“I feel so left out,” your bottom lip wobbles, “Because if this was a one time thing, I wouldn’t feel so bad, but they do this all the time. And I’m tired of constantly trying to join them when they haven’t even invited me in the first place. Every time they hang out they never think of me. I mean, they invited Trixie and Olive, and I wish I could say I’m closer to them than Trixie and Olive but I don’t think that’s true anymore. Every time. I’m sick of trying to take the initiative to make plans, and if I don’t they never think about me.

“In the holidays, they all went out to see this movie, and I get it, they all live near each other but they invited Hannah from Slytherin and not a word to me,” Remus’ heart pangs a little bit hearing your trembling tone, “It was only when I wrote to them asking if they wanted to see it with me that Lily said she had already seen it and so had Mary and Dorcas and everyone else. Okay, I accepted it, I did, and said we could go to the art gallery but no one replied.

“I tie my shoelaces and they never wait for me, but when they tie their shoelaces suddenly I have to be there, no matter what. And I can’t ever hang out with two of them because the others feel ostracised, even though they always leave me out. Lily gives me strange looks when I chat to Dorcas for more than 3 minutes straight. Once we were talking about volunteering for a charity and she looked back at me as if I was neglecting her, accusatorily. I wasn’t going to volunteer with Dorcas anyway, she lives in the Highlands. But then she can go and wrap gifts with Mary at the mall and not invite me,” your voice wavers.

“I know it’s small, but it hurts so much. The worst thing is that I’m the problem here. There has to be a reason why they never invite me and I don’t know what it is. I try to be a perfect friend and I always wait for them when they pack their bags at Potions even if everyone else is leaving. I don’t get it and it’s bothering me,” you cry out, eyes watering.

Remus wants to cry too seeing you cry, “Oh, darling.”

“I don’t understand what is wrong with me,” you despair, “I might not be the prettiest thing in the world, but I try,” voice cracking.

He needs to have a word with Lily, he thinks.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, gorgeous,” he murmurs, “Don’t blame yourself.”

“But there is. They’re really nice people, why can’t I see it?”

“Maybe they’re not nice people,” he offers.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper, “Lily’s dating James. Mary’s dating Peter. Dorcas is in your bookclub.”

“Well, love, they’re not very nice to you. And no she’s not, far from it actually, no he’s not, they split, and no, she left.”

“Guess I need a life update then.”

“Why don’t you talk to them about it?”

You murmur, “I hate confrontation and why would they change just because I told them to? I’m scared, Rem.”

“I get it, beautiful. You can sit with me and Peter and James and Sirius and Marlene and Queenie and Jolene at lunchtimes and whenever you want.”

He’s so good, he doesn’t ask any questions or push you. Your teary eyes gaze up at him in wonder and admiration and no one’s ever looked at him like you do now. Here he goes again, loving too hard.

“Really? I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Never, lovely.”

You surge and hug him, which catches him by surprise but he melts into it. It’s the nicest hug he’s been given, ever. He doesn’t get many as a guy, and usually they’re half-hearted and rough, but yours is grateful and warm. He’s all red and flustered after it but he doesn’t think you notice and you don’t.

“We’re about to head to Hogsmeade, you wanna join us?”

You think about it, “After I get these tears off my face.” You hurry up the stairs before he can say a word.

“Nice going, Moons,” Sirius barges in from wherever he was hiding in the first place, hair slightly dishevelled, “You got some chocolate? I didn’t finish breakfast trying to stealthily tail you both up the stairs.”

“He is just so delicious,” Mary sighs. You laugh, “Who, Peter?”

“Oh not Peter. Remus Lupin.”

You smile. Delicious.

“Pfft, Peter. I only dated him to get closer to Remus.”

Your smile turns into something that’s unsettled, but she’s too busy ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing over his “washboard abs” to see you, even though he’s got an ungodly amount of layers on.

“Speaking of, I think I have a crush on him!” she squeals and you smile again, kind of creeped out by her behaviour. You’re sure you’re just too sensitive about these things, “Will you introduce me?”

“Sure,” you lead her to where Remus is reading the paper. He looks up and he doesn’t give anything away. He's a mystery when he’s not too busy being soft. In reality, he can feel his heart start to speed up and his cheeks warm.

“Hey, he’s blushing,” Mary whispers. Although it’s loud, Remus can hear it and feels self-conscious.

You whisper back, “Shhh, I’m sure he’s not. Hi Remus.”

Remus nods at you, “Morning.”

“Oh he says morning, what a cutie,” Mary giggles and you giggle too, though Remus hears the strain your voice is in.

“Remus, meet Mary Macdonald. She’s my friend. Mary, meet Remus.”

Hm. Remus thinks, remembering to be polite. He should give her the benefit of the doubt. He extends a hand, “Hello Mary.”

You watch their interaction, spiking a little bit of disappointment in you. Is it at Mary paying more attention to Remus than you (and rightly so, you think. If you were that pretty you’d have people clawing at your feet too.) or because Remus might like Mary?

You miss how Mary looks at Remus hungrily. He swallows, uncomfortable, looking towards you and grimacing. You nod, a minute dip of your head, and carefully pry Mary away from him.

“C’mon Mary, you promised to drop me off at my class.”

She studies her nails, “Actually, I need to go to the bathroom. You think you’d be okay with going alone?”

It’s not really a question, and your face falls. You walk alone. Remus has just witnessed Mary lying, because instead of turning three halls down to the left and turning to the right one hall down, she begins to flirt with him. It sours his opinion of her.

“You free this Saturday?”

He shakes his head, “Nope.”

“Next Saturday?”

“Nah.”

She sighs, “Handsome, let’s not play hard to get.”

He shrugs, “I’m not.”

“Why won’t you?”

Remus isn’t brutal enough to tell her the real truth, which is that he hasn’t heard good things about her. So he says, “I’m not interested and you dated my friend and broke his heart,” which is pretty accurate in itself.

“Enigmatic.”

He sighs, returning to his paper.

A few hours later, you’re confronted with an awful truth as Remus sits peacefully opposite you reading a book. He’s in pure bliss as his eyes skim the page and his fingertips brush the edges of the paper. His hair flops in front of his eyes and you resist the urge to touch it. There’s a little smile on his lips.

You like Remus a lot, and you can’t, because Mary likes him. It feels forbidden, and you can’t imagine how Mary would react. Friends didn’t like other friends’ crushes, they stayed a comfortable distance away from them. Rule 2 in the book. And Mary brings it up at night.

“Say, Y/n, would you mind not being so close to Remus?”

You’re finishing up a Transfiguration essay and look at her, caught off guard.

“I’m not actually that close with him,” you laugh, “At least not romantically.”

She narrows her eyes, “Yeah, I know that. As if he would ever be romantic.” with you, she means.

You’re silent, ignoring her dig at you. This is a critical part of how to be a good friend. You don’t want to ruin Mary’s ventures with Remus but you really like him, both platonically and romantically.

“Could you back off? I know you both are friends and whatever but I need this.”

You chew on your lip. It’s a shame, because you did like him and Peter and Sirius and James and Marlene and Jolene and Queenie. You still want to be friends with him. But Mary has a jealous streak and you’ve seen the girls who she’s left torn and beaten.

“I don’t think I’ll ruin your chances, Mary.”

“Neither do I,” she says harshly.

You’re struck by her sudden tone. It’s curt, snappy and it’s loud. It hurts. You immediately find the tears swarm in your eyes. So you startle, “I forgot, I need to go find Marlene to get some advice on the essay.”

“Since when have you known Marlene Mckinnon?”

You leave, tears flowing as you furiously wipe them away. Remus is downstairs with Sirius, and Sirius is begging for chocolate for some reason. You catch his eye. He immediately calls to you, but you pretend to not hear. You can’t hang out with him anymore. You hurry down to the Prefect bathroom. It’s always empty there.

You sit down by the bath, pacing out your breaths. Soon you calm down, and when you have the energy to look around you, you see Remus leaning against the door. There’s a crease between his brow.

“Rem, I can’t be near you much anymore,” you blink at him, “This won’t be a surprise to you but Mary really likes you. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable, or think I’m trying to steal you from her.”

Remus’ frown only deepens, as you refuse to meet his eyes. He hooks his fingers under your chin and lifts your head up.

“Aren’t you?” he grins. He thinks if he’s going to want you he might as well want you right.

You bring your hands to his and you gently take them away, patting his hand, “Don’t. Even if I’m friends with you, it’s too friendly for Mary.”

“Honey, you don’t need to do what Mary says.”

“It’s not what Mary says. It’s Rule 2 in the book.”

He laughs, “Rule 2 in the book. And what’s Rule 1?”

“Never leave your girls hanging for boys. I feel like I’ve betrayed her.”

“Well, you can always hang with the others, right?”

You nod, “We’ll see. I’ll see you around?”

His eyes are filled with something unreadable and mysterious. He wants to be with you, so badly, he wants imploringly to show you what you mean to him. But he nods, he understands, and pecks you on the cheek. “Remus!” you admonish. He’s smirking away, the last you see of him is the imprints of a shy smile, latent and alluring.

You smile, feeling bitter as you tell Mary, “I’ll leave Lupin alone, Mary.”

She flickers her eyes up at you, “I didn’t think you weren’t going to.” She looks bored, and you feel nothing but disappointment.

“Wait up, Lily!” You call. You wish you didn’t need to, but you guess that you’re forgettable.

She stops, a little disgruntled.

“What’s got you so excited for today?” You ask her, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Well, certainly not Potter going to ask me out and me to reject him. He hasn’t in a while, so that’s been a relief.”

You laugh, “Are you missing it?”

“Never.”

“Don’t you think rejecting him that harshly is a little sad?”

It’s true. He’s nothing but nice in his advances. All he does is give her flowers, most of the time he doesn’t say anything but frown when Lily pushes the flowers roughly back into his grasp, and leaves disappointedly. He’s been doing this for only a little while, and he looks less and less infatuated with Lily each time. Once she turned to you smugly, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Must be nice having no guys pestering you for attention,” she had told you.

You had cheerfully agreed with her, but inside you were heartbroken.

Lily enters the hall, an expectant look on her face. Instead of James waiting by the big door, he’s eating, no flowers or chocolates in sight. Remus turns and gives you the tiniest smile. You give him a sympathetic one.

“Huh. No flowers.”

You stay quiet. If you say something, it’ll come out berating or pathetic to Lily. Maybe if she didn’t always brutally dismiss him or flame him to no ends, he might continue, but isn’t this what she wanted?

You talk to Queenie, who pouts, “Can’t tell you, sorry Y/n.”

You’ve seen James with Regulus, the latter denying his love though not like Lily had. It’s accepted and Regulus returns the affections, though in his own cold way. James looks happy whenever he’s with Regulus.

Lily calls to James, “Potter, I didn’t see you water the plants today.”

James shrugs, “Okay, Evans. They’re watered. I got someone to do it. Someone much more competent than me.”

At that he winks at Regulus, who goes red and smiles tenderly. Sirius rolls his eyes, whispering to James, “Oi, eyes off my brother or you won’t have eyes at all tomorrow.”

Lily’s curt all day long, and snippy. You don’t dare to say a word to her and tippy toe endlessly after she scowls at you for asking if she wants some hot chocolate.

At the end of the day when you’ve come back with accompanying Dorcas to the Potions storeroom and three of the girls come surging, whisking Lily away but never offering you with the same warmth. At the end, you quietly slip away from the group. You have this harrowing feeling you don’t actually belong with them. No one notices and you press your lips together.

“Girl’s night!!” Dorcas yells.

There’s only a little more to go till you graduate and you’re officially able to leave the dormitory. Maybe they aren’t so good for you. You just wish you could be included more, cherished. What if I don’t deserve to be cherished? The question swirls in your mind, distressing you. When you bump into Marlene near the quidditch field, trucking down from practice, she sets down her broomstick and takes off her gloves.

“Don’t see you here often, darl,” she sits next to you, “You’re in the firing zone of Sirius’ wild bludgers, by the way.”

Sirius is hovering above, hitting bludgers fiercely. One zooms past your shoulder, only because Marlene nudges her broomstick to the bludger. You barely flinch.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

You look at her, “Yeah, I’m good. Just wanted to get some fresh air.”

“At 8 in the night? Where are your friends?”

You feel so vulnerable right now. “I’m- I’m with you. You’re my friend.”

“I know. Okay,” Marlene thinks for a second, “Where are your dorm mates?”

You sob, “They’re having a girl’s night.”

“Without you?”

“I…” To be truthful, you don’t know where you are with your friends. It makes you even more emotional. You feel tears well up in your eyes. Marlene makes a strained noise and you see she’s crying too.

“Oh, don’t make me cry too,” she sobs, “I can’t handle emotions.”

Sirius notices, and nearly gets taken over by a bludger. “Moony,” he shouts, “We’ve got a problem.”

“We’ve or you’ve?” Remus asks dryly from the sidelines.

“You’ve. Not I’ve but you’ve,” Sirius points to where both you and Marlene are sobbing together.

“I’m only one man, there are two of them,” Remus looks at Sirius meaningfully.

“Fine.”

“Which one do you want?”

“Marlene.”

Sirius flies over to Marlene, mounting his broomstick.

“Marlene, you good?” He crouches down on the grass.

She glares at him, tearily, “Do I look okay to you, Black?”

“Right, well, why are you sad?” Sirius has the tact of a three year old although Marlene’s too busy crying to care.

Marlene points at you, “She’s sad, so I’m sad.”

Sirius hops up, and pats the incoming Remus on the back. “They’re all yours, Buster.”

Remus sits down next to you, “You know, there’s a cloud over there that looks like James.”

It really doesn’t, it’s night and you can’t see much. But it makes you huff a laugh out. Remus relaxes. Marlene stops crying.

“It’s pitch black, idiot,” she grins.

He smiles boyishly.

“Marlene?” you peek up at her, still halfway to dry eyes.

“Mm?”

“Can I stay at your dorm for the night? I don’t really feel like going back to mine.”

“Sure. Okay, I need a shower. I can’t be hugging you all stinky and sweaty.”

“You smell great,” you smile at her.

“Thanks.”

“No problemo.”

You turn to Remus, “Shuffle over some ten centimetres please. For Mary.”

“Mary’s having a girl’s night without you, sweet thing, does she really matter?” Remus moves nonetheless.

“Yeah,” you hiccup, “I want to be a good friend.”

He doesn’t question you and leaves it at that.

Marlene comes out, drying her hair with a towel.

“Are we good to go?”

“Yeah!”

“C’mon.”

You look back, “Bye Remus!”

He’s smiling so softly your heart thuds. It’s the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. You wonder what he’s thinking about.

He’s thinking about you. Sweet weeping soul.

The scene’s set. It’s a sweeping plain overlooking the rest of Hogwarts, symbolic and gradual. This is where you’ll graduate. It’s bitter, but you’re mostly ready to move on from school. Of course, you’ll miss days spent with fellow students and the teachers, and the school grounds where you spent so much time laughing and loving, but you think you’re okay with going solo. You haven’t worked out where you’ll be staying, there’s still ten weeks left in the school year where seventh years hang around aimlessly and try to soak up as much of Hogwarts as they can. But you know if you don’t find a place to stay, you can always bunk with your parents.

You already find yourself shedding tears, as you go up to give a speech. After the procession, McGonagall calls you over.

“Oh darling,” she cries, mascara muddied from her watery eyes, “I’ll miss you so much. Thank you for being such a good student. Have you got a place to stay? A job? I’ll always be open to giving you the Transfiguration professor role so I can focus on being Deputy Headmaster.”

You laugh, “Professor-”

“Please, we’re both adults now. Minerva, or Minnie, or Mins, or Nerve.”

“Nerve?!”

“Sirius Black does have some calling me that.”

Both of you let out watery chuckles.

“Minnie, thank you so much for being my Professor,” you wipe the corner of your eye, “Oh I have to do this eleven more times. You know, I’ve learnt so much from you and you’re just a dear. I can’t believe I’m leaving this place, forever. Not yet, and yes, I applied for a position in the Ministry.”

“Don’t forget Hogwarts. Please visit, weekly.”

“I will, and I won’t forget about that Transfiguration job.”

“Please, remember it, you always had a competence for most things you did. Even Magical Music, which I remember you saying you hated, despised, loathed, and were terrible at, but Professor Quavers thought you were a very capable student.”

“Minnie,” you weep into her shoulder, hugging her, “Please remember me.”

“I couldn’t ever forget you,” she leans to whisper, “You are one of my favourite students.”

It makes you cry even harder. In the end, you take a picture with her and exchange emails, phone lines, addresses. She hands you an envelope, which later you learn encloses automatic recommendation letters and some gift cards.

This is done eleven times more, teachers bestowing you with gifts and promises of communication. By the end, your hands are full and you put the things in your bag by your chair, going to join Lily, Dorcas, Mary, Alice in taking photos. Mary’s voice shouts, “I still like Remus Lupin!”

“Cheers to the new apartment!” Dorcas’ father says, “What beautiful girls.”

You freeze. They had an apartment planned and ready? Maybe you’re ready to leave your friends. You turn away, crying more when you see Queenie.

She beckons you over, “Come take photos with us.”

You smile. Everyone huddles close. Remus is beside you, all wily and eyes sparkling with tears. “You alright, darling?”

“I’ll miss you, Rem. You know I haven’t really gotten to talk to you much, but you’ve been nothing but wonderful to me.”

“Ask her!” Jolene hisses.

“Right, so, I, we, the guys and the girls, are going to rent apartments with each other. Do you want to join us?”

You’re starstruck. You start crying in his arms, and he looks very concerned.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t keep them in. Of course I want to join you, you guys are amazing.”

“Sweetness…” he wipes your eyes with a handkerchief he has yet to use.

“Remus, Mary, remember? She still likes you. I know you’re only doing this as friends and she does too, but she doesn’t like people hanging around…” you meet his eyes.

He looks at you again in that unreadable way and you don’t know what to do. Sirius is quietly taking pictures of you two with his expensive camera. He likes the way Remus looks at you and the way you don’t seem to know what it means. Fine photography. Would make an excellent engagement gift. I'm so smart. He flips the camera. And so handsome.

"Get a load of you," James scoffs.

You haven’t watched Mean Girls yet. Queenie finds that astounding, and so everyone must attend the movie marathon she holds. You hang your coat up on the rack, stepping out of your shoes and sighing.

“How was work?” Marlene asks.

“That question makes me feel so old,” you huff, cracking your joints, “It was so-so. Marcus tried to harass Heron into getting Jerome out of the project that he and Heather are working on.”

“Oh really. That mother-”

“Evening!” Sirius barges into the apartment, wearing his suit, “Did you know, Marcus was-”

“Harassing Heron into getting Jerome out of the project that he and Heather are working on,” you finish, “How does the public relations sector know that?”

“We do have excellent public relations.”

“Where’s James?”

“He’s picking up Regulus.”

“Awh,” you coo.

“I wish James had a sibling so I could date them too,” Sirius grouches.

“Don’t be like that, Pads,” Peter strides to the fridge, kissing Jolene on the cheek and grabbing a can of kombucha, “They’re so good together.”

“Good my a-”

“Language!” Marlene calls.

Someone knocks on the door. You open it and Remus is standing, stretching. A little strip of skin shows as his shirt lifts. His top button is undone and he looks tired. But he still looks at you the same, red on his cheeks and red lips turning up. I can’t be loving him like this, you think, it’s overwhelming.

“Hey,” you open the door.

He smiles at you, “Doing well, honey?” He doesn’t say much at all, but when he does it’s always followed by a “beautiful” or “pretty” or “doll”.

A chorus of greetings come from around the television. He nods, turning back to you, “I gave exams back today. Talked my quota full.”

Beaming at him, you hand him a bowl of popcorn, “We’re fine with it. You speak as much as you want.”

He smiles at you again. He’s doing a lot of that. But then again, he’s always like this when he’s tired. At a bar, he’ll be tilting his head, smiling at you through fatigued eyes, begging James to go home. When he’s up grading papers, he’ll be smiling at you, the same melting eyes and lashes nearly touching. And you always say, “How much of your soul did you trade to the devil for those lashes?”

He never gets it, and he says, “Comes with the beard I need to shave off every morning.”

You’re snapped back by a slamming of the door as James comes in with Regulus.

He’s right– he doesn’t talk much, just sitting back on the sofa, observing and listening. He watches you most of the time, and he sees when you’re about to cry. Your breathing gets unsteady and eyes start finding anything else to look at. You tremble as you reach for popcorn, and excuse yourself multiple times, and you manage to stop crying mostly. None of your friends notice much, too busy yelling at the screen, but he does.

You start bawling when Regina’s influence over the rest of the girls vanishes, and Remus immediately turns to you, leading you across the hall.

“I’m so sorry,” you ramble, “Why is it that I’m always crying when I see you?”

Remus doesn’t mind– he likes that you feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable around him.

“It’s just that– that movie reminded me so much of my old friends and it’s all too overwhelming thinking about them. I mean, they haven’t called, I don’t know where they live and I’m so grateful but also I feel so bad about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay. They didn’t deserve you.”

“I know, but the movie hit so close to home, Rem. I’m so glad to have you.”

Remus pretends that by ‘you’, you mean him, knowing it means the whole group of them.

You sob quietly, bundling his shirt into your hands. He lets you, and he’s quiet about it. You’re a sweet weeping soul, rendered that by your ex-friends. But he wants you so much.

“Good news,” you announce, going into Remus’ apartment to recite to him what you had just read in your weekly mail, “McGonagall got a dog, his name is Hubert and he’s a border collie. Also, Mary has a boyfriend.”

You had had to write to Mary to tell her you were moving across the corridor from Remus. She hadn’t replied. None of your friends had bothered to ask where you would stay. You had decided those friendships were over. Still, you kept a friendly distance from Remus. You had only known she’s gotten a boyfriend when the boy himself wrote to you asking you for your blessing. You had written back, telling him that you and Mary were no longer friends, but nonetheless that you wished them well. It was a sign that you were truly over it.

You’re searching through his apartment, when you hear quiet sniffles coming from his room. You knock, then enter. Your heart aches as you see Remus leaning against the wall, crying.

“Rem…”

“Go away,” he mutters, muffled.

“Remus.”

“Oh.” he doesn’t lift his head to look at you. You sit next to him on the floor.

“What happened?”

“I like this girl.”

You try to fight your own disappointment back, and smile, though it’s warped.

“Yeah?”

“There’s no way in hell she likes me back. I mean I’ve done everything to show her I do. I’ve called her pet names, tried to be charming, hell, I’ve even flirted.”

The disappointment is winning.

“And I get it, because I’m all gnarly. But it hurts.”

He continues, “And she’s…perfect. Like, really beautiful. She’s kind, so charming, so empathetic and she has the prettiest smile.”

You pretend you’re glad for him. You’re really not. You want to leave, maybe he’ll stop talking about her. But you still listen, because you do care. As much as it hurts you to know he likes another girl, it also hurts you to know he’s sad. Lovely, caring Remus, with his shyness and comfortable silences.

“She’s really everything to me, and I don’t think I’m much to her.”

“Don’t say things like that, Remus,” you begin, “You’re a great guy, and any girl would be lucky to have you, especially her.” The words don’t sit quite right, they feel sour on your tongue.

“I’m not good enough for her.”

The words crush you, and you frown.

“Hey!” you snap, “Remus John Lupin, you are so good, and so kind. I can’t bear to hear you badmouth yourself like this. You are not gnarly. I think you're charming. Love yourself for me, Remus, please.”

He looks at you, eyes swarming with that emotion.

“Thank you, darling.”

–

Remus catches you by surprise when he’s standing by your desk.

“What are you doing here, Remus?”

“Good evening, fine sir! How are you doing? I’m well, thank you!”

“No, seriously,” you cross your arms, “This is the intelligence department. How did you get in here?”

“Let’s just say, your boss is a 60 year old woman, and I sure know my way around them from playing bingo with my grandmother and her friends every Saturday.”

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” And he looks better too, creases gone from under his eyes, which are now blinking endearingly at you. He had told himself he would tell you, and that would be it. Queenie tells him that you do like him, but he can’t believe her. He’s tapping his foot nervously.

“I am. When will you be off work?”

“I just have to send this email and I’ll be done.”

“Great!” He pulls out a book and starts reading. You finish your email, click send, shut off your computer and reorganise the files on your desk. You put on your coat, and put your bag on.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” he asks.

"Yep.”

“Lovely, we’re going to take a stroll around the block. It’s a…thanks for the other day.”

You smile, “You’re more than welcome.”

You pass by a flower shop. He stops, “Hey, I want to get a present for you know- her.”

You feel your heart pang, “Yeah, sure," and then follows the obligatory, "Need some help?”

“Obviously.”

You step in and the bells jingle. A friendly shop attendant pokes her head from where she’s cutting roses.

“Hi Remus,” she grins at him, wiggling her eyebrows and he blushes, “And you are?”

You smile, “I’m Y/n.”

“Petunia Evans.”

“Lily?”

“Yes. Are you his girlfriend?”

You laugh, you’re flattered that anyone would ever think you’re his girlfriend, “Oh, I’m not his girlfriend. We’re actually here to find Remus’ crush a present! I’m Y/n,” you shake her hand.

“His crush, you say?”

“Yeah, his crush! By the way, I’ll tell you my favourite flower, can you psychoanalyse me?”

She giggles, “Okay!”

You whisper it in her ear and she starts a long tale of surprisingly accurate details of your life.

“Damn, you’re good.”

“Thanks. Remus, is there anything you’re looking for in particular? For this crush?”

Remus blushes.

You go to inspect the flowers at the front to hopefully get cheered up by the bees and the butterflies that touch down on little sprigs of pollen. You won’t revert to the sweet weeping soul that they made you. Remus buys some flowers and sets them down on the counter.

Petunia takes her dinner break and slips out of the building quietly. You’re admiring the little glass panes on the wall which let the right amount of light through, walking backwards and around the room. Remus is wondering when he should do it, turning uncertainly and walking towards you. You turn quickly too, “Remus, look at the ceil-”

You crash into him. He catches you, flowers in one hand, you in the other. You’re very close to him– he smells like a forest and chocolate. His eyes flicker to yours and there’s the expression again.

“Sorry,” you smile, stepping away. He doesn’t let go of you, instead pulling you closer. You look up to him with wide eyes and he’s so red all of a sudden. He brings the flowers to cover his face.

“These are for you,” he murmurs.

“Awh, but you really didn’t need to,” you grin, bringing the flowers up to your nose, “I offer my services for free!” They are so nice, and he's so nice.

“Services?”

“You know, helping you pick out the flowers and all.”

He sighs, “Darling, I don’t know how else to say this, but, I want you. I don’t have a crush, you’re my crush, I just never had the guts to say it. I want you by my side, all the time. It was hell on earth trying to stay away from you all these years because of Mary. I don’t know if you even like me, but I really, really like you, maybe even love you.”

You open your mouth, then shut it, eyes wide with sparkling, “I like you too.”

“Really? Because you don’t need to say it back just because you’re nice, I’m a lot of things but I don’t know if handsome or boyfriend material is one of them.”

“Rem, I adore you. You are so pretty and you always are comfortable when I’m crying and upset and raging.”

“Can we try this out then?”

“Of course we can. I’d do anything for you, Remus Lupin.”

“And I promise I’ll never make you a sweet weeping soul.”

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