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#yells my name ‘what now?’ the socks on the table. I just. walked out of the house. and honestly good for me.
seungmoonandstars · 5 months
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Warm
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Kim Seungmin/Female Reader
wc: 2.5k
rating: fluff/explicit/18+ (contains oral sex) ಇ
contains: domestic idol!Seungmin — oneshot written as a continuation of Blind Date! ૮ฅ・ﻌ・აฅ
✩彡
The room is cold. The two blankets you have tucked up over your head aren’t doing very much at all. You could get out of bed and turn the thermostat up, but that would require leaving this nest that you worked so hard to warm up.
-
It can’t possibly be morning though, so why are you awake? It feels like night still. It feels dark and cold and very very quiet.
You run your hand across the chilly sheet and feel for a body. Seungmin’s body. He’s not there. Why wouldn’t he be there? Now you’re forced to peek out and investigate. The room is pitch black, curtain closed tight, tv turned off (you distinctly remember falling asleep with it still on).
But the door is cracked, just a little bit. The faintest glow is coming through, and you can tell right away that it’s coming from the kitchen, possibly the living room.
You yell out his name, but it comes out like a feeble, sleepy groan. Shit, I’ll have to get up.
You try yelling again. This time it echoes through the room, but you’re not sure it made it through the crack in the door and into the kitchen. He doesn’t answer.
Slowly you sit up, keeping one of the blankets wrapped tight around your shoulders and chest. You swing your legs up and over the side of the bed and search the floor for a pair of slippers. None.
The bedroom is carpeted, but nothing else in the house is. Touching your feet down here is no big deal, so you tiptoe to the dresser and pull out a pair of his socks. It takes some work to get into them, seeing as how your joints are frozen, but you manage.
Now to find Seungmin. He doesn’t mind the cold as much as you do, but he can’t be enjoying this.
The floor creaks as you cross the hallway. It’s definitely one of the kitchen light glowing, but the living room is lit up now as well. He’s standing by the kitchen sink, electric kettle in one hand, the other stuffed into his hoodie pocket.
“Minnie!”
He jumps, spilling water hot water onto the counter. “Fuck!”
“Sorry.” You shuffle closer to him, “I yelled for you, twice.”
“Why are you being so sneaky?!”
“I yelled for you!” You whisper it this time. “Why is it so cold? Why are you up?”
“The heat won’t kick on.” He finished pouring hot water into his mug. “And I woke up…couldn’t get back to sleep. Do you want some?”
You look into the mug as he stirs his hot chocolate, “yes please…you know, this never happened at my old apartment.”
“Your old apartment was always a thousand degrees.
“Yeah, that’s true.”
He gets into the cupboard again and pulls out your mug. “Pick one.” He gives you two different hot chocolate options. You choose the mocha one.
“My body knew you weren’t there.”
“That’s cute.”
“I know,” you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He’s still pretty warm. “Are you coming back to bed?”
He mmhmm’s you and hands you your mug, “we will worry about the heat tomorrow, I guess.”
“Good.”
——
You set your mug on the bedside table and crawl back into your chilly pile of blankets. Seungmin finds the tv remote first and clicks it back on before doing the same. The glow in the room makes it feel a little warmer; the hot chocolate helps a little, too.
“Your legs are cold.” He pulls you a little closer when you wrap yourself around him. “Pants would probably help.”
“Yours are warm.”
“You’re gonna suck all of the warm out of me.”
“That’s usually the plan.” You bury your face against his side and relax. He yawns and pushes himself a little further under the covers. It’s comfortable. And it’s warm.
“Seungmin?”
He lets out a soft yeah. It’s almost a whisper, and it sends a little chill down your back. You almost forget what you were going to say.
“I’m not very tired anymore.”
“You just have to get warm again.” He rubs his hand in circles over your back, but that just wakes you up even more. “Close your eyes.”
Instead of closing your eyes, your fingers find the hem of his hoodie and make their way underneath. You can hear his reaction in your head before he even notices what you’re doing.
He flinches and you can feel his stomach flex under your cold palm, “no no no!” His sets his hand over yours on top of the fabric and kicks his feet, but you have him trapped. “You’re so mean.”
You pull your hand back out and push yourself up on the bed a little, just until you’re face to face with him. He’s smiling—you kiss around his mouth until he closes his lips for you. But you only peck them once before moving along his jaw and to his neck.
“Oh, you’re really not tired.”
“Are you? I can stop.” You climb on top of him anyway and work your way across his throat—at least where you can get to with his clothes still in the way.
“I’m good.”
You shove both hands under his hoodie and slowly move your palms up either side of him. His hips shift under you; stomach tightens, a little sound escapes his lips.
“Your hands are so cold,” he laughs and brings you in closer, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders at the same time. “Come here.”
You latch onto his mouth again and kiss hard until he relaxes into his mound of pillows. One of your hands move down from his ribs and along the outside of his waist and hip, kneading gently until you get a handful of thigh. He jumps a bit— he’s ticklish— but settles back immediately when you soften your touch.
He makes more room for you between his legs. You take the opportunity to slide your open palm to his inner thigh and underneath his shorts. Seungmin moans into your mouth when you touch him, and then giggles, “just take them off, please don’t tease me.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You can’t tease him the way he teases you, you’re too impatient for that. “I mean, I will…” you sit up on your knees and look at him. The blanket slips from your back and piles up behind you, “…take them off,” you finish your thought as you look down at his legs spread open in front of you.
He’s propped up on his elbows, looking down at himself, and then at you. You reach behind for the blanket and throw it over your head, and then disappear under it.
“So I don’t get to wa—” he stops abruptly and laughs. “Oh, be gentle please.”
“I always am,” your voice is muffled between him and the thick blanket. You pull gently at the waistband of his shorts until they come down just a bit, showing more soft skin. You place a kiss there and Seungmin flinches and you can see him hard and twitching beneath the fabric already.
“That’s teasing.”
You sush into his stomach and wrap your hand around him, still keeping his shorts on. He bucks his hips up again, this time much harder, so your hand slides smoothly over him. When he settles back on the bed, you pull down the fabric until the head of his cock peeks out. You put your lips on him and listen carefully for any little sound he might make.
He doesn’t disappoint. His groan comes out husky, and his stomach sucks in as he keeps himself steady. Your tongue slides up and over, and then down the length of him, getting him as wet as possible.
Just as you’re working him as far into your mouth as you can manage, you feel a cold burst of air. You don’t let it distract you, but as you slowly come back up, you sneak a look at him, and he’s smiling down at you. You can just make him out in the glow of the tv.
“That’s much better,” he says it in almost a whisper, “do it again.”
You don’t look at him, but you listen. His cock disappears completely in your mouth again. You hold him in as long as you can manage, and right before you slowly release him, you feel his hand brush the side of your face.
Now you lock eyes as you slide him out, making a mess of spit as you go. His mouth hangs open a little and one corner of his mouth twitches into a grin. You take him fully in your mouth once more before wrapping your fingers around him.
Seungmin lays back and sighs, enjoying the steady grip of your hand and the warmth of your mouth. You listen to the little hitches in his breath as you speed up—slow down—speed up a little more.
Suddenly his hand is on the back of your neck. You didn’t notice him sit up again. Now he’s looking down on you, gripping you tight but letting you keep your own pace.
You moan when he hits the back of your throat, and he holds you there.
“Do you like that?” He speaks softly, still kneading into your neck, but gently, and with just enough pressure to keep you there.
Another moan to answer him. Your eyes start to water, and you pull him in a little deeper even though you know you shouldn’t. You need to come up for air.
He senses it and softens his grip on you, runs his hand down your back until he can reach the hem of your sweatshirt, and pulls it up. The tips of his fingers tickle as he slowly moves them over your skin, and you have no choice but to release him. You put your hands to work so you can catch your breath.
“That’s good,” he wipes at your messy lower lip with his thumb and holds your gaze as you stroke him. His eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lip to try and stifle a groan, but it comes out like a desperate mmm instead. He laughs at himself before looking down at you again.
“It must be,” you get up on your knees and pull him closer with your free hand so you can kiss him, but all you manage is a few bites at his lower lip. He grabs your hips and pushes you down hard on the blankets.
Just for a moment, you remember the coldness in the room, but Seungmin is on top of you before it matters. He kisses at your neck and pulls at the collar to get to more skin. His hands reach under your sweatshirt and fingers brush over hard nipples, but doesn’t attempt to pull it off of you. In fact, he pulls it back down over your stomach as he kisses further and further down.
“You’re still cold,” he laughs and hooks his fingers in the band of your underwear, slides then down your legs and discards them. Then his hoodie comes off— also thrown to the floor, before he leans forward and sucks at the skin on your inner thigh.
This he does for an achingly long time, because he’s much more patient than you, and so much of his pleasure comes from the wait. Even when you whine his name, he acts like he doesn’t hear—just keeps kissing and licking at his own pace.
Eventually though, he does give in. His hands slide roughly over your thighs and he pushes them even further apart. You feel his warm breath on you first, then his mouth. The contrast of the cold room and the heat of his tongue gives you goosebumps all over.
You know he’s holding himself back, but it’s still enough to get a whimper out of you. He moans back in response, and then the heat is gone. When you peek down at him, he’s looking back, mouth hovering inches above you.
“Minnie…”
“Yeeaaah?”
He goes back down and kisses your thigh again.
“Stop”
“I did”
“You’re a jerk”
“I know,” he closes his mouth over you and runs his tongue up until he hits your clit. His lips close around it and he licks gently until you push your hips into his face. You can feel his teeth graze lightly against you, and it makes you shudder.
You push into him again and reach down to run your fingers into his hair. He lets out a gravelly moan and you feel the vibration run through you, but he holds you down to keep you from moving.
Lips close tight around your clit again so he can suck. You can hear the little kissing noises he deliberately makes every time he releases you and latches back on again. It’s too much, and you feel yourself getting close to coming. You were already halfway there before he pushed you back onto the bed.
He stops again—makes his way back to your thighs—sits up again and looks at you, gives you his best cute, innocent smirk. It would be innocent, if it wasn’t for the wet mess all over his lips and chin. He dives back down and teases…uses the tip of his tongue to just barely touch you. It sends little sparks of pleasure through you, but it’s not enough. He knows that.
You tug his hair again. It gets his mouth moving. He licks and kisses, and you have to focus on not coming yet, because you want it to last so much longer. He adjusts himself for better leverage, and two fingers slide in easily, reaching and pushing at just the right spot. He presses and licks hard, like he’s trying to make his tongue and fingers meet.
Seungmin looks up at you, lips tight around your clit. You can’t hold it off anymore. It rises again, slowly. You’re warm all over, your thighs start to shake despite his grip on them. A smile lights up in his eyes when you buck your hips to his mouth. You let yourself cry out, a mix of fuck and oh god and Minnie fills the room.
He lightens his touch and flicks his tongue across you until your hips lift and you cry out again, loud enough to echo through the room. The release lasts longer than you expect, and he doesn’t slow down until your moans turn into steady, heavy breaths.
But when you settle, he keeps eating, unable to get enough. You reach for his hair and pull again, because now you’re too sensitive and his mouth is too much.
He stops, gives you a moment, then slides his tongue over you once more, just to see your body shake again.
“Minnie,” you breath out, this time a little more coherent. He’s kissing his way up your stomach, but you hear his little hmm? from under your sweatshirt. “Come here.”
You gently tug at him until he pops out and looks at you with sleepy eyes.
He plants a loud kiss under your jaw. “Yes?”
“I wasn’t finished with you.”
“No, that finished me,” he laughs into your ear and tucks his arms underneath you. “Now I’m tired.”
“And cold.”
Seungmin lifts and drops you down on the pillows before pulling the blankets up to his neck. He folds himself around you, pulls you tight against him, and places a kiss on top of your head.
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repurpose-yourself · 4 months
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Santa's Objectified Helpers 2 (1/7)
"Change is driven by those who get things done. These individuals can be from the highest corporate ladder to a neighbor building a tree house for their kids," a man's voice said with authority, though still calm and collected, "But, it's people like you who stunt aspirations and successes, though."
"Who the fuck do you think you are passing judgment on me?!" Eli yelled, his eyes blindfolded with arms and legs bound to a wooden chair, "Let me go!"
"Who am I? Oh, just a man who is always watching," the voice replied, "Checking lists and marking who is naughty and nice."
Eli thrashed about in his chair, "You're a fucking idiot! Who do you think you are?! Santa?!"
"Exactly," the voice responded immediately.
"And I'm supposed to believe this?" Eli shot back.
The man behind the commanding voice approached Eli and ripped the blindfold off, "I don't care what you believe. But what I will say is this. There is a young man by the name of Colt. You work with him. And don't play stupid, we both know you're well aware of this individual."
"So what?!" Eli fired off, looking at a man wearing boots, jeans and a flannel long sleeve, "You don't even look like Santa!"
"That's not important. What matters is Colt will finally receive the support he deserves from you," the man remarked, standing before Eli now, "I will see to it you're no longer capable of harassing this man."
"And what would that be?" Eli asked pointedly, "I won't willfully help that deadbeat loser. He's a fucking freeloader. You'll just have to kill me because I am not changing."
The man leaned into Eli, "Trust me, you'll wish for death when I am done with you. That freeloader works two jobs to care for his younger siblings, transitioning into a make-shift parent after their parents died in a car accident three years ago. You'll learn the meaning of giving and helping those less fortunate very quickly. I promise you that."
Before another word could be spoken, Eli's vision went dark...
***
"Merry early Christmas, Colt!" five people shouted as the young man walked through the backdoor of a business.
"Oh shit!" Colt said with a jump, before smiling, "What is all this?"
A woman stepped forward and handed Colt a box, "Colt, you're an inspiration to us all. We have watched you grow into a fine young man who is selfless and giving. Times are tough and, as people with our own families, we understand what you're going through. Since money is tight and everything you make is being poured into gifts for your younger siblings, we pulled some money together to get you a gift for Christmas."
"You guys! Awe, you didn't have to do this for me!" Colt said, taking the box, "Oh, this is heavy."
"We need to get back on the floor before the manager gets upset. So we'll leave you to open your gift in peace. Merry Christmas again, Colt!" the woman said, followed by the others wishing their holiday greetings towards Colt.
The young man watched his co-workers leave the backroom before sitting down at a table. Placing the present gently before him, Colt ripped the paper away and immediately saw the Jumpman symbol. His eyes widened now, as he pulled the lid off to see a sleek looking pair of Jordans.
"No fucking way!" Colt exclaimed, pulling the shoes out, "These are fucking mint!"
Eli jostled around a bit while Colt handled the new shoes and looked them over.
"Man, I have needed new shoes for a while. They must have seen me looking at this pair on my phone the other day," Colt said as he placed the shoes on the floor and wiped a few tears away from his eyes, "What great co-workers. And thankfully Eli isn't here to ruin it. What an asshole."
'Asshole?!' Eli thought, before noticing something was wildly off, 'I can't move... And why am I looking up at Colt's disgusting face from two holes on the floor?'
Suddenly Colt's right black socked foot hovered over one of the holes, "A full shift will break these in nicely."
A strong masculine smell accompanied the foot as it plowed into the hole. Eli screamed internally as five toes crashed into the individual, before shooting forward and bringing the rest of the young man's foot with them. Consumed in darkness, at least in one of the holes now, Eli gagged at the odor as Colt laced the hightop up.
'What the fuck is happening?! Get your disgusting foot off of me!' Eli yelled internally.
Colt's other foot hovered over the second opening and plunged inside the waiting shoe. Now covered by both feet and assaulted by the hard working man's smell, Eli wanted nothing more than to vomit. But no such actions took place or could even be conjured up. Colt shifted around slightly before standing up, unleashing excruciating pain across Eli's existence.
'Get off of me you fucking poor son of a bitch!' Eli wailed silently.
"Wow... These are comfortable! My feet literally sink into the insoles," Colt remarked, rocking back and forth on his feet, "These are great shoes."
Despite only hearing muffled things here and there, Eli heard one thing loud and clear, 'Insoles?'
Colt knelt down and grabbed his old shoes, applying substantial weight across the living insoles through the balls of his feet and toes.
'This can't be happening! I can't be insoles! This isn't possible! Help me!' the living insoles cried to itself, unable to communicate with the outside world.
Colt placed his old footwear in a locker and closed it, "I'll still hold onto these shoes for a while. I can use them for yard work."
Crying and begging for mercy, Eli simply supported Colt's size 13 feet and carried the young man wherever Colt needed to go. It was going to be a long 10 hour shift and an even longer existence beneath a man unaware of the life beneath his soles...
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wearyeyebrow · 1 year
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Pride and Shame
Summary: Beel tells you of an afternoon yelling match between Belphegor and Lucifer. While Belphie plans his revenge, you notice that Lucifer has skipped dinner.
Tags: Hurt/comfort, Lucifer x MC, SFW
-
Lucifer stands just outside your bedroom door, poised to knock, but even still he hesitates.
He almost turns on his heel just as the door creaks open. There you are, dressed down for the evening, in comfy clothes, looking surprised to see him.
“If you’re busy I can come back another time.” He isn’t about to make a nuisance of himself.
“No, no I was just about to come to you - I didn’t see you at dinner.” You frown, and he’s torn between the feelings of ease and discomfort.
“I had work to finish.”
“That may be so, but you should at least have something to eat. Come in - please.” You open the door wide for him and yet he hesitates.
“Lucifer?”
Before he can think too hard about it he crosses the threshold, immediately warmed by the atmosphere of your room.
He eyes your textbooks sprawled all over the floor. “Were you studying?”
“Something like that,” you sigh. “Solomon has me on a wild goose chase, all for a special ingredient. I know he knows what I’m supposed to be looking for, but all he’ll give me are cryptic hints. I’ll probably be here all night…” You plop down on the plush carpet, sitting cross legged. You pat the ground beside you and motion for him to sit.
“Would you like some help?”
“I mean yes, I would, but I shouldn’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “I would love a break though - tell me about your day.”
“My day?” Lucifer settles in, resting his back against the frame of your bed. He straightens the crease of his pant leg. “It’s all very boring, really. My next week is booked solid so I’m trying to finish as much groundwork as I can now. Most of the day was spent signing my name.”
‘Mm, how delightful.” You drawl.
“Indeed.”
He’s quiet, as if that’s all he came for. He can feel your expectant stare and it irks him.
“So I… I may have heard about something that happened from Beel.”
Lucifer sighs, “Yes, what of it?”
“What happened?”
“Didn’t Beel tell you?”
“He told me parts of it, yes… I’m unfamiliar with the other layers of hell. Why did Belphie want to go to the sixth?”
“Because he’s an imbecile, that’s why.” Lucifer rolls his eyes, “Because he has no regard for his or Beel’s safety, because he lives to give me trouble. I had to reason their lives out of the Hands of Ill Temper. I just barely managed by the skin of my teeth.”
“What was Belphie after?”
“I don’t know and I don’t particularly care to know. He shouldn’t have gone in the first place. He has no excuse, leaving me to clean up their messes, putting Beel’s life in danger. Again.” Lucifer needs to move, to pace, something - everything in him itches. He settles on adjusting his socks.
“You really chewed them out, huh.”
“Naturally,” he huffs, “How else will they learn?”
“...Belphie said something else, didn’t he?”
Lucifer stiffens. “It doesn’t matter.”
‘Are you sure?”
Lucifer would rather forget it. He would rather skip dinner and continue working, pen scratching on paper, waiting for the memory to subside. But it never does, it just replays over and over again.
“Belphie, that’s not true, Lucifer doesn’t-”
“Why are you so upset anyway? I assumed you’d want us dead, since we cause you so much trouble. I’d be doing you a favor-”
“Oh doesn’t he? Look - he won’t even deny it, and now he’s just walking away - fucking evil bastard.”
With a click Lucifer had closed the door to his study, put on a cursed record, and refilled his inkwell. Hours of ruminating did nothing. Hours of work did nothing. Now he’s here. What is he doing here? Why did he stop by your door on his way to look for table scraps like a dog? What is wrong with him?
“It… doesn’t matter.” He should leave.
“I think it’s eating you.” He says nothing. “I think that talking about it might help.”
“What is there to talk about?” He bites.“They were reckless. This is nothing new. I reminded them of their own stupidity and Belphie retaliated. Again, nothing new.”
“But… something still bothers you.”
Lucifer clears his throat. “Belphie put both himself and Beel in danger chasing some whim. They could have been imprisoned, they could have been killed for their transgressions - that’s what bothered me, and now it’s finished.”
“I assumed you’d want us dead, since we cause you so much trouble.”
“Is that all that bothers you?” When did you get so close to him? He can feel your softness resting against his side.
“What else would?” Your gentle hand tugs at his glove, taking one off and then the other. This perplexes him but he can’t find it in him to stop you.
“What he said, you know, about you wanting him dead?”
“Nonsense. He was angry.”
“Beel was worried.” Beel was? Lucifer turns to look at you. “That’s why he told me about what Belphie said.”
He sighs. “If… If Belphegor is angry with me, let him be angry. It doesn’t change how I think about the situation.”
“Lucifer.” Suddenly your too steady gaze is fixated on him. “You can deny it all you want, but I… it’s clearly still eating you.” Lucifer’s brow furrows - how dare you assume? As if you’ve read his mind, you clarify. “I know I’m being presumptuous, I know, but please - it hurts you, doesn’t it?”
“Let it.” What is he saying? “Let it hurt. Whatever it takes. He can’t go down there again.”
“But doesn’t it matter that it hurts you?”
“Why should it?” He’s of two minds, one that desperately wants to talk to you, the other screaming at him, a cacophony of voices, pushing it down, down.
“It’s just me, Lucifer.” He feels the comforting warmth of your human hands in his, of your body just barely touching his side. Your room smells like you. The door is locked. It’s after midnight, and the house is quiet.
“I think…” Lucifer swallows, “I think I…
If he could crawl inside you he would. If he could speak directly to your mind he would, spilling his innermost thoughts and feelings without having to say them out loud. He gags on the words, as if once he starts they won’t stop.
This is what it means to be your friend, to be your partner, his mind desperately reasons. How can he fit vulnerability into an acceptable narrative?
He still can’t look at you. "I think I... I was afraid. If they aren't - if I can't be there, if I can't keep them in line, what's stopping the world from-" his eyes water and he blinks rapidly, head tilted back staring at the ceiling. "If he needs to assume that I hate him, if that's what it will take, then so be it."
"Lucifer, sweetheart-"
He sucks in a rattled breath. You can’t speak to him like that, not when he’s at his lowest. He doesn’t need your saccharine tone because he’s better than this, better than comfort or mistakes. Yet here you are, on the floor at midnight, speaking with such kindness and understanding. It’s because you’re an exception to his inner monologue of rules that his brain finally quiets like an oil lamp snuffed out.
"Is that what you want?"
"Of course not, but-"
"I know you’re willing to play the villain if it’ll keep them safe. I mean, you've done it before, for entirely too long. But remember what happened when you were honest? Things got better. Belphie came around and I finally understood you."
He scoffs. "It was a catastrophic failure - any good that came of it was all your doing-"
“Don’t I?”
"We've all come a long way together. It doesn't have to be this way. I truly believe it doesn't, things have already changed.” You plead with him. “Habits are hard to break. I know that Belphie was hurting when he said that, but you don't deserve to hurt like this either, Lucifer." He can't look you in the eye. "Hey," you continue gently, softly, "you don't, truly."
“No. They don’t and you don’t.”
He looks up at the ceiling again.
"I'm here because you don’t have to handle it alone." You murmur. “Because I care about you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Too late.” You lean over him and place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
He swallows, blinking rapidly, and gathers you in his arms to place a fierce kiss to your temple. He wraps himself around you, all at once too separate from everything you are. The noise quiets when you move to hold him instead. Your arms wrap around him, and after everything he’s done to you, he doesn’t deserve you in his life like this, in love with what little good remains in him. But, he supposes, his pride as a demon will make space for you, and for that he is grateful.
"Thank you," he croaks, "for choosing to speak with me."
"That’s what I’m here for, dummy.”
“You’re meant for so much more than that.”
“I just think…” you kiss the crown of his head, “that I’m meant for whatever I want, and I want to figure this out with you.”
Lucifer closes his eyes in the quiet darkness of your arms. You are a gentle reprieve to whatever remains of his soul.
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reallyromealone · 1 year
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Can I request an omega Mikey with a baby that is very protective of him? Like he constantly wants his papa and his attention or is very clingy while also “defending” his papa from danger. (But the danger is actually his boring work instead napping with m/n in their nest) or if the other bonten members a starting to get a little annoyed or something. I don’t know what this is but do with it what you please lol😋
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
Mikey sighed as his tiny pup clung to him, growling at the paperwork that was keeping his dam away from him "I don't wanna do it either but it has to be done" Mikey said softly to his pup who stared at him with furrowed eyebrows and angrily sucking on his pacifier, soft growls coming from him.
"The paperwork isnt a threat..." Mikey said to his pup who turned his little onsie covered body to the paper that was most definitely a threat to the pup who wanted his dam cuddling him in the nest and with a huff he threw his pacifier at the papers "Ababaaba!" He yelled out and Mikey couldn't help but snory "my son is an enabler..." He joked before getting up, the pup in his arms bouncing excitedly and Mikey just kissed his little head, the milky scent of the pup making him feel content.
"You win..." Mikey said going to the nest, settling down as the pup stretched out, happy the threat is now gone.
Mikey wasn't expecting his pup to deem his uncle's as threats.
(Name) glared at takeomi who walked into the office, standing on his little sock covered feet, balancing on the table that was coincidentally paperwork free (it was on the floor) "what's up with him?" Takeomi asked and Mikey sighed "he thinks anyone or anything taking my attention is a threat so he growls and pushes the problem away"
"Damn he really is a dams boy" Takeomi said watching the tiny pup defend his dam "he's definitely an alpha"
"I'm curious to see how he's going to be when he stays at his dad's"
"Good luck to Draken"
"He's gonna need it"
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ha111ngton · 2 years
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SUB!STEVEXDOMFEM
warning: smut
summary: You and Steve have been friends for a while. You always have had a minuscule crush on him. When you catch him jerking off to a picture of you in his room, you have no clue what to do.
MINORS DNI 18+‼️
You and Steve had been friends since freshman year. Steve Harrington was always a ladies man, they called him Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington for fucks sake. A name you had taunted him over throughout the years.
Steve’s 20th birthday was coming close so you decided to surprise him at his apartment with an early birthday gift.
You knock on the door lightly just to make sure he was still sleeping. It was somewhat early in the morning, but you knew Steve could sleep in until 3pm if no one would wake him.
You wait for about 5 minutes, once you realized no one was going to answer you reach your hand into the fake plant on the side table beside his door to obtain the spare key.
Opening the door and walking in, you find yourself standing in Steves begrimed kitchen. Groaning in disgust.
Ignoring the mess you walk towards Steve’s bedroom door, but stopping dead in your tracks when you hear something odd. You stealthily put your ear up the door listening.
You heard something that almost sounded like moans and whimpers. The sound of slapping skin and moans filled your ear making you immediately pulling away from the door with your hand on your mouth suppressing a gasp.
It felt wrong standing hear, listening. You couldn’t help it though. His soft high pitched whimpers, breathy moans and quick panting. It’s like you were put into a trance.
Realizing how wrong it was for you to be standing here listening to this you grab your present and head back to the door front door to leave.
As soon as your hand reaches the door knob you hear a yell of your name. “Y/N” followed by grunts and heavy breathing. You gulp in astonishment feeling weak in the knees.
You had stood there for no less then 5 minutes in absolute shock. But when you hear the creak of a door opening your heart starts beating quickly your breathing faltering.
“Y/N?”
Steve calls out as i turn around. His hair messy and disheveled, his tall lean figure peering over at me, his eye brows furrowed together in confusion and shock. He stand in a pair of black boxers and thigh high NIKE socks.
“What are you doing here” His voice almost shaky.
“well i had this early birthday present for you and i was about to drop it off until…” i stop for a second debating whether i should tell him or not. “until my mom called and told me there was an emergency!” he looks at me with even more confusion and a raised eyebrow.
“Is that so? Well what was the emergency is everything okay” i could tell he knew i was bluffing, but i wasn’t going to let up so easily. “yeah she just…well i don’t know she didn’t tell me she just said i needed to get home,,like now.” i stutter through the sentence.
He nods still not buying it. “I think you’re lying” he stays slowly taking steps towards me. “why would i lie” i say, my voice high pitched and filled with bluff.
“Come on just tell me why you really have to leave” he says, each step closing a space between us.
I take a deep breath as i tell him that i had heard what he was doing.
“did you like it” his voice soft and laced with lust, even though he had just rubbed one out nearly 10 minutes ago.
I shrug as a reply not knowing what to say or how to react. “yeah i did” i say lowly and dark. His face turns a bright red as he stares down at me our faces only inches apart.
His breath fawning against my cheek, large strong hands wrap around my love handles. At this very moment i realize the wetness spreading around my thighs and the burning knot in my lower stomach itching the become undone.
I pull him down by his shirt slamming his lips into mine. Shoving him backwards until his back hits the wall.
I drop down onto my knees eye level with his already semi-hard cock. I look up at him and see his helpless, begging expression. I pull his boxers down revealing his thick cock. I take his dick into my hands pumping him slowly earning a few whines from the boy above me.
I stand up removing my hand from his now rock hard dick. “What do you want, baby.” I whisper in his ear my arms wrapping around his neck.
“i want you” he says followed by a whimper as i leave love bites on his neck. “what do you want from me, pretty boy” his breath quickening at the pet names.
“I want to feel you, i want to be inside of you” his hips bucking into my clothed crotch.
I push him back against the wall uttering a few tsks. “baby, you should know the rules. You can only touch me when i allow you to.” my hands trailing down his body wrapping around his cock pumping slowly. “yes mommy” he says just above a whisper causing me to momentarily pause.
I stare blankly for a moment at the name, but continuing with my assault on his cock. The name had turned me on way more then it should have. Causing me then to drop to my knees and shove his hard lengthy cock into my mouth.
Steve above me was squirming and whining, letting out sweet pleas directed to no one but his own pleasure.
When his grip on my hair tightens and his cock starts to violently twitch in my mouth i remove myself from his dick with a pop. Looking up at him through my lashes with innocent doe eyes.
“w-why’d you stop mommy” his voice light and higher pitched then normal, still extremely out of breath.
“Mommy’s gonna’ ride this big cock of yours, how does that sound baby hm?” i praise with a tinge of mimic in my voice. He nods ferociously helping me off my knees and into his bedroom.
I push him down onto the bed as he watches be get undressed.
I climbed on top of him my slick pussy grinding against his lower abdomen. “Want to to sit on your cock, want me to make you feel good?” my hands on his chest my head buried in his neck.
“Yes M-mommy please ride my cock, please” he whines gripping onto my thighs. “okay baby” i whisper in his ear sitting up and lining my soaked hole up with the tip of his cock.
“Are you ready, sweetheart” i ask as he nods once again ferociously, his eyes screwed shut.
I grip him by his chin squeezing tightly forcing his eyes open. “You will look at mommy whilst she pleasures you, do you understand?”
“I understand” he whimpers making direct eye contact with me as i sit down on his cock.
I pleasure filled gasp leaves my lips as i feel his cock fill me to the brim. I begin to bounce up and down on his dick as he reaches all the places in me my fingers could never even begin to reach.
All i hear from the boy below me are sweet praises, whines, and whimpers. “feels so good mommy. Please don’t stop it feels sooo good” his hands have a firm grip on my hips, his nails burrowing into my skin.
“your big cock feels so good in me baby, thank you for making mommy feel so good” i utter breathlessly struggling to speak at all.
The familiar knot in my stomach has begun to come apart as his dick hits that sweet spot deep into my pussy. “Steve fuck!” i yell in immense pleasure.
“I’m-..I’m so close mommy don’t stop.” he crys out.
With one more thrust i feel his warm thick seed filling my overused pussy.
I lay down on his chest, his dick still inside me. “don’t pull out yet, still feels good” he whines with his hands rubbing up and down my back. “okay baby, i’m not going anywhere”
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thatonelesbianfander · 3 months
Text
The Ghost and the Reaper Chapter 6
Fandom// Sanders Sides
TW// Death mention, Suicide mention, Crying, Yelling, Punching, Swearing, Fire, Screaming,
Word count// 2730
Description// Janus is one of the many grim reapers whose job it is to reap the souls of the dead and help them ascend to the afterlife. After one assignment, the spirit they reaped, a 23-year-old nonbinary person named Remus, refused to ascend. Now, Janus is stuck with them following it around wherever they go.
Characters// Remus Sanders, Roman Sanders, Janus Sanders
Pairings// None
AUs// Found/chosen family Creativitwins & C!Thomas, human!sides, they/them Remus, it/they Janus, he/she Roman
Masterpost // Previous // Next
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remus woke up on the couch, rubbing the tears that had formed in their eye away. Janus stood in front of them, a concerned expression on its face.
”Remus!” Janus said, Remus sitting up, “Are you okay? You were crying in your sleep when I came to check on you.”
”Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a dream about my death,” Remus said, rubbing their hands against their face.
”Well, do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?” Janus asked, “You were really upset when you came home.”
”It’s nothing… It was just my sibling… I don’t really wanna talk about it…” Remus said.
”Okay, I won’t push it then,” Janus said. Remus smiled.
”Well, what’s on the dock for today?” Remus asked.
”Well, I have a few spirits to reap, and I’m also going to need to make a pit stop at the graveyard today since some spirits are having trouble ascending again,” Janus replied.
”Well, let’s go do the reaping first, and get that out of the way, then,” Remus suggested.
”Alright, then,” Janus said, grabbing their scythe off the table. Remus frowned, sitting back down on the couch. Janus looked over to Remus, confused.
”Remus?” Janus asked, Remus looking over to Janus, “Aren’t you coming along?”
”You want me to come along?” Remus asked.
”Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Janus asked.
”I thought you wouldn’t since I would only annoy you and slow you down…” Remus said, looking down.
”Well, yeah, you are kind of annoying, but that’s what makes the job fun. Without you, it’s kind of just boring,” Janus replied. Remus smiled.
”Now, come on. Let’s get this over with so we can get back here and relax,” Janus said. Remus jumped over the back of the couch, walking over to Janus. The two faded out of view, reappearing in a hospital room. Two people laid on beds on opposite sides of the room, both being treated by doctors. Janus wiped its scythe at the first person, the spirit sitting up from their body. Janus then swiped his scythe at the other person, the spirit also sitting up. The two spirits locked eyes, getting up and running to each other.
”George!” the one spirit said.
”Mary!” the other replied.
”Okay you two, break it up real quick,” Janus said. The two spirits turned towards Janus, George standing in a defensive stance in front of Mary.
”Who are you?” George asked.
”My name’s Janus. I’ll be your grim reaper for your ascension to the afterlife. Now, do you mind telling me your names,” Janus said, pulling up a screen.
”Oh, umm. George and Mary Stanford,” Mary said.
”Stanford… Ah, here you are! It looks like you two don’t have any ongoing tasks, so if you’ll just stand still, I’ll-” Janus started before being cut off.
”Who’s that?” George asked, pointing towards Remus.
”Oh, that’s Remus,” Janus said, smiling at Remus. Remus smiled back.
”They look weird. Why do they look like that? Fucking freak-” George started before being cut off by Janus socking him in the face. George stumbled back, Janus glaring at him.
”Don’t ever say that about them ever again,” Janus said, glaring at George. Remus hid their face in their hands, their face a little red with blush.
”Why you-” George started before being cut off by Janus swiping their scythe at him. George burst into flames, screaming in pain as he burned away.
”George!” Mary exclaimed. She turned to Janus, angry.
”You bring him back now, you fucking bastard!” Mary said, running at Janus. She threw a punch at Janus but missed as Janus side stepped away. They swiped their scythe at Mary, Mary bursting into flames and screaming as well.
”Woah, you didn’t have to do that!” Remus said.
”They were going to hell anyway. They were abusive parents and rude to everyone they met,” Janus replied.
”No, I mean… You didn’t have to punch that guy in the face for insulting me,” Remus responded.
”Hey, you’d probably do it for me. It’s only fair that I do it for you,” Janus said, retracting their scythe. All of a sudden Janus got a call on their screen. Remus floated over to Janus, looking over Janus’s shoulder as Janus answered the call.
”Who is it?” Remus asked.
”My manager. He wants to meet me,” Janus said.
”Ughhhhhhh,” Remus replied.
”You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Janus said.
”Nah, I’d be bored waiting for you. Let’s go,” Remus replied. Janus nodded, swiping its screen away. The two faded out of view together, going to the manager’s office.
They reappeared in the manager’s office, Remus going over to the corner and grabbing a notepad and pencil. Janus sat down in front of the manager’s desk.
”Sir?” Janus asked. The manager turned around in his chair, seeing Janus in front of him.
”Oh! Janus!” the manager said.
”You called me?” Janus asked.
”Yes, yes. I need to talk with you real quick, but first, tea or coffee?” Manager asked.
”Oh, um, I guess I’ll just take some green tea today,” Janus replied.
”Alright, then,” Manager replied, pouring some tea into a mug. He gave the mug to Janus.
”Sorry, I only have mugs right now,” Manager said.
”That’s alright,” Janus replied, “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
”Well, it’s nothing about how your doing your job right now, you are right on quota,” Manager replied, sitting down in his chair, “It’s actually about the Antichrist.”
”The Antichrist? I thought that was just a myth,” Janus responded, confused.
”So did I, but the radar is saying that they are close to emerging and that they’re going to emerge in your district, so you can see how that’s a problem,” Manager said.
”Yeah… I mean, isn’t the Antichrist the only one who’s able to kill us?” Janus replied.
”Exactly, and if they emerge it could spell disaster for us,” Manager said.
”So, what do we do now?” Janus asked.
”Well, first of all. I need you to keep up the rules in your district. For example, I know you’ve been letting your little friend visit their family,” Manager replied.
”Oh, yeah, cool. Just talk about me like I’m not here,” Remus said sarcastically.
”Shut the fuck up,” Manager said, glaring at Remus.
”Okay, in my defense, they snuck out without me knowing the first few times,” Janus replied.
”Okay, just throw me under the fucking bus,” Remus said, Janus glaring at them as well.
”Okay, but anyway. The last time you let your friend visit their family, they interrupted a death,” Manager said.
”You what?!” Janus said, turning to Remus.
”What?” Remus replied.
”You see, your friend here interrupted their sibling’s death. That day their father was supposed to go out on a date and their sibling was supposed to call their father, leave a voicemail that would go unanswered, and stab himself while he was away. But instead of that happening, your friend here decided it would be a good idea to make it so that their father would see the voicemail and get back to the house to stop him,” Manager said.
”So?” Janus asked.
”So, because of the timeline crack, the Antichrist is able to rise. There have already been many other timeline cracks in the past, but I guess this one pushed it off the edge. So, to combat this, I need you to enforce the rules in your district more. That means no more family visits for your friend, no interacting with the living, and no interacting with things in the surrounding area. Got it?” Manager replied.
”Got it,” Janus said.
”Good. We cannot have this Antichrist rising. One more crack, it’s over. You’re free to go now,” Manager said. Janus nodded, standing up. It walked over to Remus, Remus ripping their drawings out of the notepad.
”Let’s go now,” Janus said.
”Can we go back to the apartment real quick… I need to talk to you about something…” Remus whispered to Janus. Janus nodded. The two faded out of view, Manager going back to his work.
Remus and Janus reappeared in the apartment, Remus floating over to the couch. They patted the seat next to them, Janus nodding and walking over to the couch. They sat down next to Remus.
”So, what’s up?” Janus asked.
”Nothing, it’s just…” Remus said.
”Yeah?” Janus replied.
”You don’t think I’m evil right?” Remus asked.
”No? Where’s this coming from?” Janus asked, confused.
”Well, during my childhood I was always hated for my ideas. People thought they were morbid and weird and they called me the Antichrist because of it,” Remus said.
”Remus. I doubt you’re the Antichrist,” Janus said.
”I know, I’m just…” Remus said, before trailing off.
”Yeah?” Janus asked. Remus took a deep breath.
”Ever since my childhood I was scared of proving them right… It was my biggest fear at the time… Being the Antichrist… It’s one of the reasons why me and Roman had that fight the day I died… He was getting fed up of me constantly being next to him and being clingy, since he was the only person in my childhood I could really talk about my ideas with without the fear of being judged…” Remus said.
”Hm…” Janus replied.
”Janus… What if all those people years ago were right? What if I’m actually the Antichrist? I mean, your manager said so himself, the Antichrist is on the rise and they’re the only one who can kill reapers like you… What if I’m actually the Antichrist, and I end up hurting you, or worse…” Remus asked, their breathing picking up.
”Hey, calm down. I doubt you’re the Antichrist. I mean, sure, you did make a timeline crack, and sure that’s bad, but I doubt you would be the Antichrist,” Janus replied.
”It’s possible though… I mean, there were a lot of weird things in my life that didn’t really make logical sense… Like for example, I was able to barely survive driving myself off a cliff, and it took longer for me to die… What if-” Remus started.
”Alright, you’re reading into that too much. There’s probably some other reason for you not dying on impact then. Calm down, deep breaths,” Janus said. Remus took a few deep breaths, looking over to Janus.
”Better?” Janus asked. Remus nodded.
”Okay, good. Now, do you want to explain why you interrupted your sibling’s death?” Janus asked.
”I mean, she’s my sibling… Did you really expect me to stand around and let him kill himself?” Remus asked.
”How did you even do it?” Janus asked.
”Oh, I knocked over this guy’s drink, guy called for a waiter, waiter rushed out, and I got the waiter to take a certain path that would go past my father’s table and get the waiter to knock his phone off the table. From there, the waiter gives him his phone back, he sees the notification for the voicemail and listens to it, and then he rushes back home,” Remus said.
”Didn’t I tell you not to mess with anything in their surrounding area?” Janus asked, smiling.
”In my defense, I technically didn’t interact with it. The guy had the drink on the edge of the table already, I just gave it a small nudge,” Remus said. Janus laughed, Remus smiling at them.
”Alright, then. Well, let’s get to the graveyard. I need to help those spirits ascend,” Janus said, standing up. It lent a hand out to Remus, Remus grabbing it and standing up. The two faded out of view together, talking and laughing.
The two reappeared in the graveyard, laughing with each other.
”Alright, alright, you win,” Janus said.
”Hah! I’m the best!” Remus replied.
”Oh, shut it. Anyways, I’m going to go meet with these spirits. Do you want to come or are you just going to hang back?” Janus asked.
”I’ll just hang back for now. You go do your job,” Remus replied. Janus nodded, walking off. Janus looked around the graveyard, seeing a few spirits hanging around a group of graves. Janus walked over to the spirits, the spirits talking amongst themselves.
”So, what should be the first thing we do once we get to the afterlife?” the one spirit asked.
”Hm… I don’t know. I was thinking of reuniting with my family. What about you, Grace?” the other spirit asked.
”I was thinking about picking up a hobby like art, or something,” Grace replied.
”Well, I was probably going to join a band, and create music,” the first spirit responded.
”Hey, you three are the spirits who called me here, right?” Janus interrupted.
”Oh, reaper guy! Yeah! My name’s Grace and that’s my friend Issac and my brother Danny,” Grace replied.
”Last names?” Janus asked, pulling up its screen.
”Oh, me and Danny’s last name is Richards, and Issac’s is Spencer,” Grace replied.
”Richards…” Janus said, scrolling through the list of names, “Ah, here! And what seems to be the problem?”
”Well, we all have this same task but no matter how many times we perform it, it won’t go away,” Issac responded.
”And what is this task?” Janus asked.
”Um, it’s the ‘visit a place on your bucket list’ task. We all went to the Eiffel Tower together since that was a big dream of ours, but it won’t go away on our lists,” Danny said.
”Oh, yeah. That task is weird, and won’t complete. I’m pretty sure it’s a glitch in the system. We’ve tried to get it fixed before but to no avail,” Janus explained.
”So, what do we do now?” Grace asked.
”Oh, I can just force an ascension,” Janus replied. It took out its scythe, swiping their screen away.
”Everyone stand together,” Janus said. The three stood hand in hand, facing Janus.
”Now, you’ll just feel a slight tickle, but nothing major. Have a nice time in the afterlife,” Janus said. The three nodded, Janus swiping their scythe at the three. The three disappeared, Janus retracing its scythe. Meanwhile, over with Remus, Remus hovered around their grave, watching as their sibling played a game on her phone.
”Almost! Yes! I won! Did you see that, Remus?” Roman said, looking over to Remus’s grave, smiling. Remus smiled at their sibling. Roman sighed.
”I wish you were here right now… Life’s been so difficult without you…” Roman said, frowning. Remus frowned, standing next to Roman. Tears started to form in Roman’s eyes, Roman looking down.
”I miss you so much… I honestly wish I killed myself yesterday… It hurts so much being without you… I miss your daily visits… I miss when you would talk to me about your ideas, without a care in the world… I’m so sorry I said I hated it… I need it more than ever now… Isn’t that crazy… How one can forget how much something means to them until it’s too late…” Roman said, tears falling down his face. Remus crouched down to Roman’s level, frowning while looking at their sibling. Roman took a deep breath.
”If you’re here right now… I just want to say… I love you… I’m sorry for not being a better sibling…” Roman said, tears falling down her face. Remus frowned, reaching their hand out before pulling it back. Remus closed their eyes, debating whether or not to do it.
”FUCK IT!” Remus shouted, putting their hand on Roman’s shoulder. Roman’s eyes widened as he looked over to Remus. Remus took a deep breath.
”I love you too, Roman… I’m sorry for having to leave you and Pa like this… I regret it every day… Just promise to stay strong for me please…” Remus said.
”Remus…?” Roman asked. Remus opened their eyes, seeing Roman staring directly at them.
Masterpost // Previous // Next
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euthonia · 1 year
Text
stars - episode i
Tumblr media
lilia pov
I woke up from my comfy white covers to the bright sun shining on my face. 
            God, I need to remember to close the damn windows before I go to sleep..
I groan as I get up from my comfy bed. My phone layed on the bedside table, and it starting to vibrate and buzz.
I picked up my phone, and answered the voice call.
     "Clay! What's up?" I asked, rubbing my eyes before setting my phone down back on the marble counter.
      "Hey! I was wondering if you wanted to come over today. Like maybe, around 10:30?" Clay questioned.
     I looked over at the clock hanging on my wall.9:00 am. If I ate a quick breakfast, I can have plenty of time to get ready.
     "Sounds good! I'll see you then." I answered, softly smiling.
"Okay, bye!" 
"Bye." I replied, hanging up. I yawned,
I quickly shoved the cereal down, and cleaned up. I rushed upstairs, and decided to take a shower. After my shower, I got dressed and picked out my shoes.
I decided to wear a white crop top, baggy ripped jeans, and a matching star necklace and earrings set. I did some light makeup, which was just mascara and blush. I also grabbed my Nike socks and air forces.
I opened the hallway closet and picked out a white mini backpack to match my outfit, and placed my phone charger, scrunchies, and lip balm inside. I then started to walk outside of my apartment, and headed my way to Clay's house, or "mansion" as I shouldreally call it.  I also took out my AirPods from my pocket, and played one of my Spotify playlists.  
(the Spotify playlist linked for this story is in the story description!)
something about you - eyedress, dent may
devil town - cavetown
my kind of woman - mac demarco
no wind resistance! - kinneret
Finally, I arrived at Clay's and Nick's shared "mansion". Knocking on the door, I realized I had a spare key on me. I unlocked the door, and entered into the hall. Patches greeted me at the door, purring and rubbing against my right leg.
     "Aw, hello sweetie. I just love you so much!! Yes, I do!" I baby talked, slowly rubbing Patches soft fur.
    "I guess Patches got a new favorite now." Someone said in the distance, chuckling at their own comment. I looked up, to see Nick staring at me, leaning against a wall.
"Oh, hey Nick. Is Clay upstairs?" I questioned.
"Yeah, he might be on a call with some of the SMP members though. I think they were talking about lore or something along the lines of that. Feel free to grab a drink from the fridge if you want it!" Nick answered.
"Okay, thanks Nick!" I replied, picking up Patches and running upstairs with her in my arms.
I walked down the long hallway, seeing framed pictures of Clay and his family, or printed out MCC screenshots along the wall. I giggled at the photos, and I finally reached Clay's recording room. 
    "God Clay, could your house like, stop growing? Maybe donate a room or two more to me." I joked, giggling as I playfully punched his arm. I looked over to his open monitors, to see he was on a call.
And he wasn't on mute.
"WOMAN??" A voice yelled through the speakers.
"Do you have facecam on?" I asked.
"No, I don't. No one is streaming right now either, do you want to say hi? It's Niki, Phil, Wilbur, andRanbooon the call." Clay answered.
"Why did he say Ranboo's name like that...?" I thought to myself as I raised towards eyebrow at him, and walked over closer to his setup. "Uh, hi? I'm Lilia"
A calming, sweet female voice came over. I knew it was Niki right away. "Oh! I know you. You're lilysage on twitch, right? I've seen your streams a couple times."
"Yup, that's me!" I responded, smiling to myself thatTHENiki Nihachu has watched my streams!
"Alright, well, I'm gonna go. Bye guys!" Clay said, hanging up and closing Discord.
I flopped down on his bed, grabbing my phone and scrolling through tiktok.
 "Hey Clay, why did you say Ranboo weirdly?" I questioned, looking over at him.
Clay only gave a smirk as a response.
 I ignored his "response", and kept scrolling. On my FYP, I saw a minecraft building tutorial. It was a small cottage, and had been surronded by cute flowers and vines. I loved it!
   "Clay! I found this cute cottage, can we build it on stream?" I showed him my phone.
"Yeah, sure! Let's stream on your account. Speaking of minecraft, do you want to join the Dream SMP..?"
"Uh, YES! I just need the server details." (Y'ALL I DONT PLAY MINECRAFT SO I DONT KNOW THAT MUCH !!! 💀)
Clay gave me the server details, and I headed into a little room he made me pretty recently. I had my own gaming set up and everything I needed for streaming. I even had my own bed in there!
My setup was mostly a light green theme, with three monitors, my laptop, a matching  green keyboard and mouse with animal crossing stickers, and a simple black mic. I opened up TwitchLabs and Discord and set up my stream. I put on my "Starting Soon! <3" screen before speaking into the mic.
"Hello, my loves! How are we doing today, chat?" 
lisanotfound: good hruu :)
user5656: doing better 
mirawastakenbydream: <3
lilsuperfan: i love ur streams plsssss notice!!!
"Cool, cool! Glad everyone is doing well." I smiled. "Today we're going to just be doing a chill minecraft stream, and building a cottage! I'll be joined by dream today as well! And, I'm now on the Dream SMP! I just have to log in." I said, looking to my webcam.
Dream unmuted. "Hi chat!"
I opened my gameplay screen, and started up minecraft. I entered in the code, and bam! I was finally in the Dream SMP.
I was greeted on my screen by Tubbo and Tommyinnit. I knew about everyone on the server, as I was a pretty active dream smp watcher.
I also joined the Dream SMP member discord server, which Dream had invited me in. We both left our call, and joined VC 3, in which Tommy and Tubbo were talking.
"HELLO WOMAN. HOW OLD ARE YOU?" Tommy yelled in the mic.
I covered my ears. "Jeez. I'm 18." 
"See Tommy! I told you she'll be older. Wait, what's your pronouns?" Tubbo asked, punching tommy.
" I use she/her pronouns. Thanks for asking!" 
"Okay, cool!" Tubbo responded. I could tell he was smiling from the sound of his voice, even though his camera wasn't on.
"Hey boys- wait, who's this? Oh, wait, you're Lilia, right? From the call earlier?" A  voice spoke. Ranboo!
"Yeah, that's me! Feel free to call me Lily by the way. I'm streaming right now if you want to say hi to my chat!" I smiled.
"Oh, hi chat!" Ranboo said.
elisawasnotfound: RANBOO!!!! :D
markjacobs: ranboob?????
aestheticgreenteasea: BOOB MANNNN
I giggled at the funny messages. "My chat's calling you boob man, Ranboo!" 
"Chat. Please, calm yourself." Tommy spoke. ( WHO GOT THE CARROTS??) Dream wheezed at his remarks.
"DREAM! I CAN HEAR YOUR FUCKING WHEEZE FROM MY ROOM!"
That made Dream wheeze even harder.
"Alright chat, let's build that cottage, shall we?" 
- time skip brought to you by FORD. BUILT DIFFERENT. (about an hour or so later) -
"Thank god it's done! That took forever." Tubbo sighed.
"Yeah! I'm going to end stream here. Bye chat!" I waved, and ended. I leaned back in my gaming chair.
"Alright, I have to go home now... Bye guys!!!" Everyone said bye, and I left the call and walked over to Dream's room.
"I'll see you later?" 
"Yup! Bye Lilia"
I went downstairs, and grabbed my backpack. I gave one last pet to Patches, and headed out the door. 
I guess I'm in the Dream SMP now.
___________________________________________________________
OH MY GOD THIS CHAPTER TOOK FOREVER JHKSHJSDHKJD
i havent writen in a hot minute so this chapter is gonna be really shitty sorry!!!
i hope you have a good day! make sure to eat and drink some water, and take your meds if you have any! love y'all :)
1334 words! MOOTS!!
@gaytoadwithapopsicle
@ador3him
@sapphyrebur @jubiilee13
@hollywoodbonez
@sanderchu
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asydicsydney · 1 year
Text
In lieu of the soon to be anniversary of me getting serious with writing, here is one of my first full fanfics (dated March 10th, 2022)
Context: Our school production of Alice in Wonderland that fall had original characters that soon became my own as I extended the story (and wrote way too many fics)
Spots is about 6 here, they are the adopted child of Black and Brown (also the Blue Borogove is mentioned here before his name was updated)
This is written as a script because that was the only way I could write back then, also it has small suggestive connotations. Enjoy :)
Bl: "SPOTS, BREAKFAST!!"
S: *Struggling to put on their other sock, bandana backwards, and only one overall strap on, running to the kitchen*
Bl: "Woahwoahwoah, slow down gingerbread bunny, why're you in such a ru-"
S: *Grabs Brown's leg*
Br: "*Oomph*" *He stumbles a back a little*
S: "THANK YOU FOR BREAKFAS, POPPA!!!"
Br: "You're.. welcome.. Spot. Now can you let go of my leg? 'Else your ears will be covered in egg."
S + Bl: "Rhyme dime!"
Br: "Alright, alright, I'll put a dime in the jar, *after* breakfast. Now go sit down and let your father fix your clothes."
S: *Nods, releases Brown, and shuffles over to where Black is sitting at the table*
Bl: "Alright kit, up we go!" *He picks up Spots and sits them on the table next to the soon-to-be-filled plates and proceeds to fix Spots' clothes*
Br: "Off! Off of the table! Unless we're eating the kit for breakfast, there shall be no bunnies on my table!"
S: *Giggles and jumps off the table, letting Black fix their clothes on the floor*
Br: "Food's ready!"
S: "Yayyy!!!" *Runs away from Black's grasp to their chair, while their bandana gets pulled off*
Bl: *sigh* "I'll fix it later, kit."
Br: "Who's ready for SSSCRAMbled Egg Surprise?"
S: "Me, me, me!!"
Br: "Then here you go, kit." *Dishes out the eggs to Spots' plate, then Black's, then his own*
Bl: "Thank you, hun." *Kisses Brown on the cheek* "It looks amazing."
S: "Thanks, Poppa!"
Br: "Alright you two, just eat your food." *He giggles slightly and sits down*
*Everyone starts eating*
Br: "So, what are my favorite rabbits up to today?"
Bl: "I gotta help White draft some escape routes for the castle, like for if there was a fire. Poor kit is too scared someone will burn a cake *before* he finishes."
Br: "Wow, how noble of you to help your brother." /s
Bl: "I can't be fighting beasts all the time, besides, a little security never hurt nobunny."
Br: "True, true. And what's on the docket for you today, Spots?"
S: "Blue asked me do go mome rath hunning!"
Br: "Now *that* is an adventure! You should learn from them, Black."
Bl: *Not paying attention* "What?"
S + Br: *Laughter*
Br: "Nothing, hun."
Bl: "Hmph, keep your secrets then."
S: "Hey, Poppa?"
Br: "Ya, kit?"
S: "Who Awah?"
Bl: "Spot, you gotta swallow your food, kit."
S: *swallows* "Who's Alex?"
Br: "Oh um.." *catches a side glance from Black* "Where'd you hear that, kit?"
S: "From you!"
Br: "Fro-from me!? Nonono, couldn'tve been me." *Looks to Black for support*
Bl: "Shrugs and pours more coffee in his cup*
S: "Uh huh! I woke up super lae las nigh, and I heard you yelling 'Alex! Alex!'"
Bl: *Spits out his coffee* "O-oh! Well that's interesting! Care to explain, *hun*?"
Br: "Oh! Yyyup I remember that now. Sorry I woke you, kit. I was just yelling at Dad because he was... stealing all of the blanket!"
Bl: *mouths "good save"*
S: "Oh! Ok!"
Br: *phew*
S: "One more question."
Br: "Ya, kit?"
S: "Why did you call Dad 'Alex'?"
Bl: "I can take this one, Brown."
Br: "Thanks." *He picks up their plates and kisses Black on the cheek, then walks to the kitchen to wash up*
Bl: "Ok, kit. You know how you call me Dad?"
S: "Uh huh?"
Bl: "And how sometimes you're Poppa calls me Black?"
S: "Hehe, ya. Jus like your fur!"
Bl: "That's right, kit. Well, I also go by Alex. It's like my.. adult name."
S: "Wow! Thah's so cool!"
Bl: "Uh huh, Sir Alexander Black Rabbit!" *He strikes a pose*
Br: *coming back from the kitchen* "The adorkable knight!"
Bl: "Hey!"
Br: "Just telling it how it is, hun."
Bl: "Is that all, Spot?" *He ruffles their hair and kisses their forehead* "Come on, we gotta get our boots on, or we'll both be running 'late, late, late for an important date!'"
S + Br: "Rhyme dime!"
Bl: "I was quoting my brother! You two are no fun!" /lh
S: "Dad?"
Bl: "Ya, Spot?"
S: "Does Poppa have an adul name?"
Bl: "Hahaa, well, do you, hunnybun?"
Br: "As a matter of fact, I do. It's Arthur. Are all your questions answered now, kit? You two gotta get moving or you'll actually be late."
S: "Thah's all the questions I had, Poppa!"
Br: "Alright, now let your father help you get your boots on while I finish cleaning up."
S: "Ok, Poppa!"
0 notes
elmsbloom · 2 years
Text
“Pink Canopy”
Chelsea Mason-Basiliere
We bought the bed canopy for Heather. She wanted pink so I went with Joanie to pick out the fabric to make one. I looked through pallets upon pallets of color, silks, and cotton, sheer and knit, before coming to the conclusion that it would be so much easier to buy one. We did at Macy's. It was fifty dollars.
The canopy is hanging over my head. I don't know how I ended up in Heather's bed. She might have fallen asleep on the couch and John and I might have gotten in a fight last night so I came to sleep here. I don't know. I'm pretty groggy first thing in the morning.
My mouth is dry. I try to swallow but I’m parched. I look to my right and see the bed stand with a glass of water on it. At least I prepared myself for this. I sit up a bit and reach over. My back cracks. I take a sip of the water, holding the liquid in my mouth for a second before swallowing. Better. I put the glass back on the table and snuggle under the covers.
We got Heather the canopy. It's pink. Pink is her favorite color. I was going to make one myself but I realized that there were too many choices of fabrics and I was overwhelmed. We got it instead at Macy's for fifty dollars. Joanie went with me.
Why am I staring at the canopy? Maybe John and I got into a fight last night.
I try to remember the last fight we got into. It had been a while. My mind is kind of groggy first thing in the morning so I have trouble remembering stuff sometimes. John takes advantage of that and laughs at me. First thing in the morning is when he'll tell me that he accidentally spent our vacation fund on booze, or that he let Danny and Billy stay up until three in the morning so they'll be cranky when I try to get them on the school bus. I usually do not fight John though. He's the love of my life even though we bicker like cats and dogs.
Why am I in Heather's bed?
The door opens and I look to my left. It's Joanie, but she looks different. Older. Of course, she's older. We are all older. Heather doesn't live here anymore, she moved out years ago. I'm just groggy first thing in the morning. It takes me a minute to wake up.
“You gotta get outta bed,” Joanie tells me. She's always been one to tell me what to do. She  bossed  me  around  when  we  were  in  nursing  school  together, she criticized me for going steady with John, she helped me raise little Johnny while John was out boozing after our gunshot wedding at the town hall. John was the love of my life though until he died. Wow, that was a few years ago, I think.
“I’m tired,” I tell Joanie. “I just woke up.”
“Sweetie, you woke up two hours ago.” Joanie walks over to the curtains and draws them so sunlight slaps me in the face. I wonder why I’m in Heather’s room. “Up, and at ‘em!”
I was going to ask where John was, but then I remembered he was dead, and that my husband’s name is Paul now. Paul and I never had kids, but he raised Johnny, Danny, Billy, and Heather like they were his own.
“Five more minutes,” I tell Joanie. “Why are you here?”
“Paul is in the hospital, remember?” she asks. “He fell last night, remember?” Joanie talks to me like I’m a small child. She always has. I look around. Why  am I in Heather’s room? “Why are you here?” I ask Joanie.
“I just told you, Paul fell,” Joanie tells me, sighing in exasperation, even though this is complete news to me. She pulls off my covers, and I see my legs are pasty white and my veins are electric blue. I have to remember to go out in the sun. Heather goes in tanning beds all of the time, even though I have yelled at her not to.
“Maybe we should go outside today,” I tell Joanie.
“It’s ten degrees!” she laughs.
“Right.” It’s winter. “I knew that.”
I stand up, and Joanie cries before putting a walker in front of me. “I don’t need that,” I tell her.
“Like hell you don’t,” Joanie tells me, and she grabs my wrists and plops them on the walker. My bare feet are on the wood and it’s cold. Why didn’t I wear socks to bed? I have to do laundry later.
I look around. Why am I in Heather’s room?
“Where’s Paul?” I ask Joanie.
Joanie sighs. “Let’s get you breakfast.”
0 notes
messers-moony · 3 years
Text
Help | R.B
Paring: Regulus Black X Daughter!Reader
Summary: At first it was for him, now everything he does is for her. 
Warnings: Rape, cursing, death, etc
Being wise comes with living. Dumbledore had lived a lot of years. Everyone knows that. The man worked his way up the hierarchy from being a Transfiguration teacher to the headmaster at Hogwarts. He was even offered a place as the Minister of Magic. What people didn’t comprehend or, rather, didn’t think about was, when living that long you realize every button to push, every nook and cranny to get your way. 
Manipulation at its finest. Now, truth be told, manipulation isn’t always evil. It can be good, per se, manipulating someone to stop doing something that’s particularly harmful - alcohol, smoking. But when used negatively, it could make everything worse. 
The Order of the Phoenix was manipulated. From beginning to end. Dumbledore convinced the young kids - naive kids - that they were safe and that’s what they needed. These kids needed reassurance that everything would be okay, and Dumbledore assured them that they were safe. 
But were they safe when the McKinnon family died? Were they safe when Fabian and Gidian Prewett died? Could James and Lily truly depend on Dumbledore to keep them safe with a newborn? 
When Sirius Black joined the order, he had one request. Just one. A linear, singular request. It was saving Regulus Black. That’s all Sirius wanted, was for his little brother to be safe. Sirius knew about Regulus being a death eater, and he needed saving. Regulus didn’t want this life, and he especially didn’t want this with a baby girl. 
He was seventeen, and he was forced. Sirius knew it. James knew it. Remus knew it. Regulus had come to the Gryffindor portrait crying on his knees, begging - no - pleading for his older brother. The Fat Lady was cursing him out for not having the password and being a Slytherin. Luckily, James heard the ruckus and ran to his aid. He was yelling for Sirius. 
“Sirius! Sirius, I need you!” James had never sounded so frantic, so panicky, “Sirius, now!”
Sirius threw the textbook on the floor. James’ voice reminded him of an alarm - crazed, loud, repetitive. The black-haired boy ran down the dorm steps, almost falling over his feet to see the portrait wide open. Everything went in a vignette, zoomed in and black around the edges. Immediately Sirius was pushing James off his little brother and embracing him tightly. 
“S- Sirius.”
Godric, he sounded so broken, “‘S okay, Reggie. ‘S okay. I got you. It’s me, Sirius. You’re safe here, Frère.”
“It- It hurts.” Regulus muttered, his voice shaky and helpless, “Need you.”
“You’re okay.” 
Sirius looked up into James’ worried hazel eyes, “C’mon. We’re bringing him up.”
“Are you mental?!”
“James, he’s my brother!”
James scowled, “He’s also a Slytherin!”
“He needs me. I’m not letting him go.” It was the first time Sirius’ voice had gone stern with James, “Either I’m sleeping out here with my brother, or you’re helping me bring him up to the dorm.”
“Fine, fine.” 
Sirius looked down at his brother, who was tucked under his chin, silver streams trailing down his flushed cheeks. His cheeks glistened with anguish and pain. His fists were balling the back of Sirius’ white button-up, tightly, stressed. 
“Reggie.” For the first time, Regulus didn’t cringe, and instead, he melted into Sirius’ warmth, “James and I are going to bring you into our dorm, okay?”
“Mhm.”
Gently Sirius helped him up, placing an arm around his shoulder. James put his other arm around his shoulder. Both boys helped the sixth year into the Gryffindor common room, getting multiple stares and glares. Regulus managed to up the stairs onto Sirius’ bed, a sniffling and trembling mess. 
James smiled gently at them, and Sirius sat beside Regulus on the edge of his bed, “What happened?”
“She- She forced me. I didn’t want to. Please, Sirius, I didn’t want this.”
“Want what?”
“She touched me.” Regulus whispered, and Sirius rubbed his back, “I- I didn’t want it….”
Sirius hesitated, “Did- Did mum have anything to do with this?”
Regulus nodded, and silent tears fell down his cheeks, “She- Mum, is the reason. I was supposed to be arranged to this woman but- but she did this and- and-“
“It’s too much.” Regulus wailed. 
Sirius held his brother close until he fell asleep. The trails of tears dried on his cheeks, and Sirius laid his head on the feathery pillow. The fleece comforter was placed over his wrinkled button-up, black pants, and socks. Regulus’ black curls contrasted the pillow, and his cheeks were a pale pink. Sirius had never felt so upset. 
Releasing a breath of air, he left the dorm room to go to the common room where the boys were sitting. James perked up, and Remus’ head was pulled into a book, a cup of tea on the table beside him. Peter was playing chess with a fellow Gryffindor across the room, not paying attention to anything but the checkered table before him. 
“Is he okay?” 
Sirius plopped beside James, “He will be.”
The silence was killing Remus to the point of his curiosity tipping over, “What happened exactly?”
“Some girl, my mum, arranged him with did something that he didn’t consent to.”
The teacup that was in Remus’ hand dropped to the carpeted floor, staining, “You’re shitting me?”
Regulus was in pain, physically and emotionally. Although the boys didn’t understand completely, they understood that Sirius’s time would be dedicated to his little brother. No matter what was going on in the wizarding world at present, Sirius’ time was needed with Regulus. 
It was nine months later. Thirty-nine weeks later. Two hundred and seventy-three days later. Left on the doorstep of the Noble House of Black’s residence was a baby girl. Orion and Walburga had left the house previously, leaving Regulus alone with Kreacher, their house elf. The baby girl was crying and helpless. 
His lifeless grey eyes met the young girl's e/c ones, and everything clicked. This was the product of his emotional pain in his sixth year. Regulus couldn’t deny the warmth in his heart looking at the young girl. Gently he leaned down to take her in his arms. A pink silk blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm despite the summer months. 
Once in his arms, the girls stopped crying. The warmth of his body and the softness in his eyes calmed her down. There was an envelope inside the baby blanket, which Regulus opened after placing the sleeping child on his lap. Essentially the letter was telling him to name the baby girl and her birthday. Along with now that the marriage was called off, she wanted nothing to do with him. 
Regulus threw the parchment to the side furiously. Despite his frustration, he picked up his daughter and smiled at her, “I dunno what to name you precious.”
The girl wrapped her hand around his thumb that had been caressing her cheek, “Y/n? I like that name.”
She smiled, and so did he, “You like that too, don’t you, précieux.”
Regulus placed a kiss on Y/n’s forehead, rocking her back and forth, “I love you so much.” 
During the school year, Y/n stayed with Sirius, who was overjoyed to stay with his niece. Regulus only saw his daughter one more time before he decided it was his end. Regulus knocked on Sirius’ flat, looking utterly exhausted. Sirius answered with a big smile on his face. 
“Heya Reggie!”
Regulus struggled to smile, “Hey, Siri.”
“Come on.” Sirius beckoned, “Y/n is sleeping, but you can see her if you’d like.”
He walked in to see a door open to a small room. Inside it was painted in a pale lavender color with white furniture. Regulus walked inside to find a crib with his one-year-old girl sleeping inside. She made this so much harder. Regulus didn’t want to do this, but he needed to do it if he wished Y/n to have a safe life. 
Regulus’ arms cradled his daughter to his chest, “I love you, précieux. I love you too much to express. I know that you’ll never remember me. I’m praying that Sirius will tell you about me.”
“You’re my baby girl. You’ll always be my baby girl.” Regulus’ eyes welled with tears, “And- And I’ll be with you no matter what.”
Y/n’s eyes opened, and she smiled, being cradled in her father's arms, “Dada?” 
Regulus had tears streaming down his face, and Sirius watched from the doorway, “Yes, hi petite fille.”
She giggled, and Regulus had the brightest smile on his face; he nuzzled his nose with hers, “Dada’s here, little girl.”
He spent an hour with her. The last sixty minutes of his freedom was spent cooing and coddling. Regulus wanted to engrave her beautiful e/c eyes in his head, her soft smile, smooth skin, and fuzzy hair. Regulus placed his daughter back in the crib and kissed her forehead one more time. 
Walking back out into the living room of the flat, he saw Sirius waiting for him. Regulus didn’t make any appoint to try and sit down. That’s how Sirius knew was something wrong. He released an air of breath and dried his tears. 
“Sirius, you may have to keep Y/n with you a little longer until it’s safe, okay?”
“‘Course Reggie.”
“If- If I don’t come back-“
“Don't say that, please.”
Regulus looked at his brother solemnly, “But it’s realistic.”
“Okay, just- try to make it back.” Sirius replied. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try.” He lied, “I- I want you to tell her about me, yeah?”
Sirius chuckled, “You’re her father, Regulus. I wouldn’t not tell her.”
“Don’t let her mum take her. I don’t care what she says Y/n will be in your care.”
Sirius nodded, “One- One more thing. This may sound stupid but, teach her French?”
“Teach her French? Why?”
“It’s how I used to talk to her before seventh year started. I want her to know how to speak it. French was something I enjoyed learning, something that kept me sane at our horror house.” Regulus confessed, “I want her to learn it.”
“If it means that much to you, Reggie.” Sirius replied, and Regulus nodded, “It does.”
“Then Y/n will learn French, after English.” 
“Good.”
Regulus began walking out the door when he felt arms around him from behind and a head in the crook of his neck, “Come back alive, okay?”
“I’m gonna try, Siri.”
He never came back alive. Regulus walked toward the entrance of that cave, knowing that today he was going to die. In the start, this was for Regulus to right his wrongs. Now it’s for his daughter. If anything, Y/n deserved a happy, exciting life. Not one of pain and suffering like Regulus had. 
The Daily Prophet the next day said everything it needed to, “REGULUS BLACK DECLARED DEAD.” This was it. Regulus had inevitably left his daughter and got himself killed. Sirius cried - sobbed - for his little brother who had a child. He wept for his niece, who would grow up not knowing her father. 
Ten years later, Y/n was getting ready for her first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had introduced baby Harry with one-year-old Y/n at the time where they became best friends. Harry was gravely disappointed at his best friend leaving but excited that he’d see her the following year. 
In the bathroom, Y/n was sitting in front of the mirror with Sirius behind her. Sirius was brushing her hair, not because she couldn’t do it but because Sirius didn’t really want to let her go. After setting the brush on the counter, he placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. She looked so much like him. His hands twirled through her h/c hair. 
“You look like your father.”
Y/n’s eyes widened, “I- I do?”
“You do.”
“I don’t remember much from him.” Y/n stated, “I remember him calling me précieux, vaguely, which I know now is precious.”
Sirius chuckled, “He also made me teach you, French. It was one of his wishes before he- you know.”
“Why?”
“Learning French is a pure-blood thing. Regulus said it kept him sane.” Sirius answered, “I honored that even if I hated that language.”
It was silent for a while, “You know, sometimes when you’re angry, you just start ranting in French?”
“I don’t!”
Sirius laughed, “You do. You definitely do, amour.”
Y/n giggled, and Sirius began tickling her sides. Her laughter and smile were contagious, just like how Regulus’ was. Regulus had such an infectious laugh and beautiful smile. Sirius was almost glad Y/n inherited it. After tickling her, she melted into Sirius’ embrace, hugging him tightly. 
“Je t'aime, oncle Sirius.”
“Je t'aime aussi, amour.”
It was a system Sirius had created with her instead of saying, “Toujours Pur,” like his mother had made him and Regulus say. Y/n is what made him love French again. The way she swore in the language unintentionally. How she’d say the language like a native, just like her father. It meant everything to him. 
Years later. Y/n was in fifth year, and the Triwizard tournament members had just been called. Viktor Krum was called first. Then Fleur Delacour. Then Cedric Diggory. That was meant to be the finality, but nonetheless, Harry Potter’s name got called. As all the members walked into a room away from the Great Hall, Dumbledore began speaking to the worried children. 
One sentence stood out to Y/n particularly, “Help will always be given at Hogwarts for those who deserve it.”
It brought so much rage in her that she couldn’t help but speak, “That’s bullshit!”
Everyone stared with jaws slack, “My father deserved help! Hell, he needed to be saved, and here because of your bullshit, he died! My father is gone because of you and your shitty manipulative ways!”
“He may have been a death eater, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Godric, he needed saving! His own brother turned on him. So fuck you and fuck your stupid sayings. Because you aren’t a saint, and I don’t have to fall to your knees like a worthless soldier.”
Dumbledore was astonished by her attitude as she began leaving the Great Hall, “That's one hundred points from Gryffindor, Ms.Black!” McGonagall yelled. 
“Pardonnez mon français, mais je m'en fous.” Y/n yelled as she flicked off everyone in the room. 
Before she left, she turned around and faced everyone, “If anyone- and I mean anyone, touches, talks badly, or even remotely glares at Harry Potter, so help me, I won’t hesitate to hex you.”
1K notes · View notes
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warm embraces & sudden kisses | ot7
↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | drabbles/headcannons ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: anon ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ: “ENHA REACTION TO YOU KISSING THEM OUT OF NO WHERE OR JOW THE CUDDLE WITH YOU PLS AND THANK YOU 🙏” ↬ ᴀ/ɴ: 
since this is the 100th post on this blog I decided to do an ot7 one
simultaneously, this was a request so it worked out !!
anon said or but I decided to try & write both in here :$ so there’s kinda 2 mini scenarios for each member
also i wrote this on my phone in my notes while i was out today which is why everything’s lowercase :)
anon if you’d like me to rewrite this less as scenarios and more as bullet points just lmk!
Lee Heeseung
[a light’s on in the kitchen]
you wake up with the feeling of warmth no longer around you. looking around, you see that heeseung’s no longer in bed with you. your hand makes it way to your phone on your nightstand, 3:07 am greets your eyes and you hear faint sounds from outside the room. you get up with a yawn, the haze of sleepiness still on you as you make your way around the apartment the two of you share, a light’s on in the kitchen. he’s making ramen, you think to yourself. he stands tall by the stove, your footsteps are quiet as you hear him singing a song. when you get to him, your arms arm around his waist as he turns around to greet you, you jump up to give him a quick kiss, intending to meet his lips but because of how tall he is, your lips meet his cheek. he smiles, pulls you in closer to him, tilting up your chin but teases you by pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
[finally home]
you’re nestled up on the couch while a movie plays on the tv. today wasn’t a good day, to say the least. you woke up late which didn’t give you a chance to eat breakfast with heeseung, when you ordered lunch the fries were burnt and the food undercooked, and when you got home heeseung texted you to let you know that practice was running a little late which meant he wouldn’t get to have dinner with you. your eyes stayed settled on the tv until the sound of the apartment door greets your ears, bringing you out of that movie marathon haze you were trapped in. heeseung smiles as he sees you, makes his way to you, as he hands you a takeout bag.
“i bought some food on my way home, i’ll change and then we can eat, yeah?” he notices that you’re sad but doesn’t press you on about it. you nod, taking the bag from him. when he comes back, the two of you eat while a new movie is running. when you’ve finished all the food, his arm wraps around your shoulders and his head rests on top of yours.
“you ok?” he asks. his embrace is comforting and safe, similar to what it feels like when a blanket is draped over you just before you fall asleep.
“i am now that you’re finally home.”
rest of the boys under the cut !!
Park Jongseong / Jay
[flustered and red]
jay’s making dinner in the kitchen while you’re setting the table. you hear him chattering, more to himself than anything as he tries to make dinner the best that it can be. with how busy his schedule was and how much you’ve been swamped with your own work, the two of you haven’t had much time for each other. so, the you both having a free day today was something you were definitely going to take full advantage of. after setting the table, you head into the kitchen to see him slicing up lettuce for a last minute salad. you let out a smile as you see him make a honey based dressing and decided to surprise him by hugging him from behind. usually, he does it to you. despite his confident appearance and composure, you can already tell that he’s getting all flustered and red.
“Yah, who said you can sneak up on me like that!” he says, but makes no effort to pull away. You move so that you’re in front of him,
“If that’s how you react when I hug, how will you react when I do this?” Going on your tiptoes, your arms make their way around his neck as you feel the softness of his lips on yours. Guess honey was good as moisturizer…
[i built us a house]
jay was sitting in his gaming chair, his gaming set up in its own room while you were in the living room doing your own thing. while you were typing away on your laptop you hear your name being called, causing you to look up.
“i wanna show you something,” he said.
“i’m busy, hon,” you reply.
“real quick, i promise.” you sigh, knowing damn well jay wasn’t going to leave you alone until you went with him. so, following him into his game room he sat on his chair.
“why am i here?” you asked. he patted his lap, motioning for you to sit on him. as you did, one of his hands moves your hair to the other side while an arm stays settled on you. you can feel his breath on your neck, the butterflies in your stomach now doing somersaults.
“i built us a house.” your eyes look at the screen to see it on his minecraft server as his character walks around. you smile, turn your head so you’re looking at him,
“this is our house?”
“one day i’ll make it happen in real life.” despite the large promise, deep down you knew jay was going to find some way to make it a reality.
Sim Jaeyun / Jake
[just a little more]
you were on the living room couch, layla’s head on your lap while you pet her. as you do, you’re typing on your phone with your free hand. jake makes his presence known by sitting next to you, his head popping into your line of sight. you set your phone aside, smiling as you pat his hair. he frowns,
“you’ve been giving layla your attention all day, what about me?”
“layla’s cuter than you,” you reply with a teasing smile. he frowns, sighing slightly as he looks at the sight of all your attention on layla. jake heads to your room, glad that you loved layla as much as he did but wished you loved him just a little more. you head to the room, seeing jake seated by the edge of the bed, you settled yourself so that you were sitting on his lap, your legs around his waist.
“i want your attention too.”
“someone’s jealous.”
“naur, i’m not jealous,” he says, looking away. you lean forwards, pressing a kiss to his lips that lingers on for a few seconds longer than it should.
“yaur, ya are,” you tease. he smiles, kisses you again as his grip on you tighten slightly,
“it got you here, didn’t it?”
[a pair of fuzzy socks]
you’re half asleep when you feel warmth to your feet and suddenly a pair of fuzzy socks have been placed over them. you say nothing, wanting to go back to sleep more than anything. a few seconds later, you feel a dip on the bed, two actually, and you’re aware of both jake and layla around you. jake lifts up your head gently. you hear him whisper,
“layla, don’t wake up your mother,” and the feeling brings tingles to your heart, fireworks spreading throughout your body. he snuggles closer to you, intertwining his legs with yours as he traces random patterns on your back just before falling asleep.
Park Sunghoon
[cold]
for as long as he could remember, park sunghoon has lived life cold. on the ice he was cold. towards people he acted cold. you entering his life was like the sun rising after a freezing winter night. you were the heat that rid himself of the icicles stuck to his cold exterior. you melted the snowflakes of winter and turned them into roses of spring. you were the warmth he never knew he was missing. he was in your apartment, washing the dishes after you made lunch. you headed to him placing your hand on his arm. he looked over to you, smiling as you hugged his side. you leaned up as you kissed him, he couldn’t hold back his small laugh. as he felt your lips on his, heat rose to his cheeks. but despite the shyness in him about to take over, he fights it, leaning into you and kissing you once more.
[cold hands]
sunghoon has always had cold hands. and whenever he cuddled with you, he made sure that you knew it. the two of you were joking, running around the apartment when you and sunghoon both ended up on the bed. a glint appeared in his eyes, a plan forming in his head. the tips of his fingers met your stomach as you started bursting out in laugher.
“HOON WHY DO YOU HAVE COLD HANDS,” you yelled as you tried to fight him off. he smiled, vampire teeth showing in all their glory as he settled next to you in bed. his hand rested on your stomach as he brought you to him, his cold feet pressing to yours.
“you’re my personal heater,” he said, pulling you closer to him.
Kim Sunoo
[a little too close]
sunoo has always been clingy around you. some days, he’ll grab your hand out of nowhere and start fiddling with your fingers. at the most random times, he’ll play with your hair and think about how to style it. being in sunoo’s embrace is something that you’ve always welcomed. you were sort of the opposite, accepting and welcoming his touch but never really initiating it. until, today that is. you noticed someone talking to sunoo getting a little too close to him. you didn’t think much of it knowing how friendly sunoo was towards people and how others naturally gravitated to him. but, you couldn’t help yourself when you made your way to them and held onto sunoo’s hand, practically staring down the other person. sunoo smiled, intertwining your hands together while bringing you into the conversation. unsurprisingly, the outsider moved closer and without even thinking, you kissed sunoo’s cheek. his eyes slightly got wide as he looked at you, but it was an action he was glad for. in return, he kissed your cheek with a smile and couldn’t stop talking about it for the rest of the day.
[a tough day]
you were having somewhat of a tough day, having cramps, on and off headaches, and an annoying ringing in your ears that you just couldn’t get rid of. sunoo came home to find you layed on the couch, his heart breaking at the sight. he got some things and brought it to the living room,
“what are you doing?” you asked.
“spa day!” he replied excitedly. he rubbed lotion on your hands, placed cucumbers on top of your eyes, and combed out your hair. the night came to an end with you and sunoo laying on the couch together, him patting in the face mask then rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. with sunoo came a bubble of warmth you never wanted to leave.
Yang Jungwon
[make me]
jungwon’s in a playful mood today and with that playful mood comes teasing you. you’re in the living room where he decided to grab your sketchbook and hold it up above your head.
“won, give it back!” you exclaimed in annoyance, glaring at him. he has the audacity to look amused and he tells you,
“make me.” he’s always found joy in teasing you for your height and right now was no different. a plan forms in your head as you take some steps backwards. as you practically run to him, his eyes widen with fear as he’s forced to let go of your sketchbook to catch you and you end up latched onto him like a koala. you kiss him, in those few seconds the entire world stops and it’s as if no one but him exists. the kiss lingers on a second or two longer than you intended as jungwon’s grip on you tightens so that you don’t fall. on his face you see him smiling and those dimples that you’ve always loved appear. jungwon was never good at hiding his emotions, his love for you no different. you close your eyes as he leans down, you expect a kiss returned but instead, he kisses the top of your head. lightly flicking your forehead gently,
“that’s what you get for being short,” he says.
[i'm here]
with all his responsibilities and the things jungwon needs to take care of at such a young age, coming home to you is the one constant in his life. to him, the second he’s able to wrap his arms around you, revel in the scent of your shampoo, and gets to hold you, everything is just complete. at 1:06 am, he came home. it was late, he was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep. he headed into the room you two shared, only to see you still awake.
“you’re up?” he asked.
“no, i’m asleep,” you reply sarcastically. he sighs, setting into bed next to you, “someone’s tired,” you said.
“i want cuddles,” he mutters unable to hide his need for your affection. you shift and his head lays on your shoulder. you run your hand through his hair while you kiss the top of his head,
“i’m here.”
Nishimura Riki / Ni-ki
[bungeo to his ppang]
more than anything, ni-ki liked to be by your side. whether it was while he was watching something on his phone, showing you a new dance routine, or asking you to dye his hair, as long as you were just with him, he was happy. sleeping is something that ni-ki has always enjoyed, how could he not when it grants him a few moments of peace before a busy day? the two of you are in the car, he rests his head on your shoulders. unlike normal, he doesn’t fall asleep this time. he pretends to, he closes his eyes, stays still while enjoying your warmth, but he’s not actually asleep. you didn’t seem to notice, he feels you messing with his hair a bit, something he’s never minded as long as it was with you. he hears you talking about how cute he is, practically fangirling over him. he feels you kiss the top of his head lightly,
“sleep well, ni-kitty,” he hears you whisper. he doesn’t move, doesn’t show any sign that he’s affected by your sudden actions of love. but deep down, he feels a happiness around you that’s greater than how he feels when he’s on stage. when he performs he enjoys the thousands of eyes that watch him but all he thinks about are how your eyes look at him with adoration and pride. it was in this moment that he knew, you were the bungeo to his ppang.
[take a break]
after dinner, you’re sitting on the floor of the table in front of the tv, trying to get some work done. suddenly, you feel a weight on your lap. you look down to see ni-ki’s head on your lap, his eyes closed but he’s clearly still awake.
“yah, get off,” you said, slightly lifting up your leg.
“no.” you roll your eyes, deciding not to pay attention to him as you go back to sleep our work. it seems that ni-ki had other plans as he took your one of your hand and starting fiddling with it.
“ni-ki, i’m busy.”
“take a break,” he said. you look down at ni-ki… how could you refuse? you put away your things, shifting so that your full attention was now on him. he smiled up at you, fiddling with the edge of your clothes while saying the most random things that made you laugh.
↬ ᴀ/ɴ pt. 2:
if anyone’s read up to this point pls lmk how it was, i’m not really good with ot7 scenarios typa things 😭
❦ written by riri @enhykkul | blog masterlist
requests are currently open! rules can be found here | anon emojis
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unfoundhoney · 3 years
Text
mother, father, and everything else ↠
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↠ platonic!c!tommyinnit x older sister!reader ; fluff , angst
↠ masterlist
↠ a companion piece to a sister’s sacrifice inspired by this tiktok
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“Tommy, come on,” you call.
You pull your youngest brother’s attention away from the strings of the apron he got distracted by. He toddles over to you as quickly as he can, reaching up and asking to be picked up silently. He started walking early and go the hang of it quite quickly. However, in talking he’s a bit of a late bloomer, nearing fifteen months but yet to say his first words.
You lift Tommy up into your arms, carrying him out the back door and into the backyard. You set him down to play in the grass where you can keep an eye on him then walk over to the array of clotheslines strung up across the yard, beginning to hang up laundry.
Wilbur is off playing with Niki as usual. He’ll likely return covered in dirt and grass stains, maybe with a captured insect or stories of a new, made up kingdom he’d been ruler of that day. Phil is still out with Techno; they’ve been gone for a while now, but that’s nothing new.
You’ve hung up a pair of Wilbur’s pants and two of Tommy’s shirts when you notice Tommy crouched beside the basket full of wet clothes. He reaches inside and pulls out a sock, squeezing it curiously.
“Do you want to help, Tommy?”
Tommy looks up at you, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He nods his head once.
You giggle and ruffle his hair, “Alright, c’mere.”
You lift Tommy up again, resting him on your hip as you grab a clothespin with your free hand. You slip it over the clothesline.
“Put the top of the sock in the pin,” you tell him.
He struggles a bit, little hands still uncoordinated at his young age. He does eventually position the sock where you can close the pin on it and leave it to hang.
“Wow, good job, buddy!” you say.
You wrap him in a hug and spin around, shrieking laughter falling from his mouth at both your actions and your praise. You set him down and kneel down to be at eye level with him.
“You’re my official laundry assistant,” you say seriously. “Can you hand me clothes to hang up?”
Tommy nods eagerly and toddles over to the basket of wet clothes, grabbing a shirt from the top of the pile. He holds it above his head as he runs back over to you, holding it out.
“Good job, Tommy! We’re quite the team, you and I.”
Together, you and Tommy slowly hang the rest of the clothes up. Tommy eventually gets bored and goes off to pick dandelions and pull off their petals, leaving you to finish the chore, not that you mind. When you’re finished, you call Tommy over to get in the basket, carrying him and the leftover clothespin back inside.
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“Y/N!”
The call of your name pulls you to a stop, turning to see who yelled for you. Tommy grabs onto your pant leg for balance, stopping as well. You find Puffy waving at you, hurrying over to you with her little boy Dream at her side.
“Hi, Puffy,” you say. “Hi, Dream.”
“Hi,” Dream says in a small voice.
“Tommy, can you say hi?” you ask the young boy clinging to your hand.
He’s chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at Puffy warily before hiding his face in your leg.
“Guess not,” you laugh.
“How are you, Y/N? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Puffy says.
“I’m good,” you answer. “Just getting some dinner for tonight.”
“Still the household cook, I see.”
“And just about everything else.”
You laugh and Puffy joins you, but you can tell that wasn’t a joke that went over her head. It’s no joke that you are mother and father to your younger siblings, as well as everything else. Your dad is gone too often; Wilbur doesn’t even call your father “dad,” he calls him Phil.
“Where’s your dad?” Puffy asks.
You shrug, “Around.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
You hesitate for too long, distracted as you attempt to remember the last time Phil came home.
“That hardly matters,” you brush off, “He’s busy doing important stuff and I can look after Wilbur and Tommy myself anyway.”
The look of concern on Puffy’s face is not missed by you. You do, however, elect to ignore it.
Dream tugs on Puffy’s sleeve, “Mom.”
“Yeah, buddy?” Puffy asks, leaning down.
Dream points into the market, where you see Sapnap with his father and his friend George.
“Go say hi, but don’t wander too far,” Puffy tells Dream.
When she turns back to you, keeping one eye on her son, you say, “I’ve gotta head home. Need to make dinner and all that.”
“Yeah, okay,” Puffy says. “I’m here if you ever need help. Or someone to talk to. Or... anything really.”
“Thanks, Puffy.”
You don’t notice at your side, Tommy trying to form the word that Dream used that so quickly got his mother’s attention.
“Look after yourself, Y/N.”
“I am.” You always have.
With a wave, you turn and head back home, Tommy walking slowly beside you. The walk from the market to your house takes about fifteen minutes and you end up carrying Tommy for most of it to speed things up.
When you arrive home, you find Wilbur and Niki sat in the front yard playing a hand clapping game. They stop when they spot you, jumping up and running to come meet you as you walk up the front path.
“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Wilbur shouts your names repeatedly.
“Will! Will! Will!” you mimic.
“Can I spend the night at Niki’s?” Wilbur asks.
You like Niki. She’s sweet and a good influence for Wilbur.
“Uhm, as long as her parents are alright with it,” you say, doing your best to sound like a grown up despite only being sixteen.
“We’ve already talked to them,” Niki tells you.
“Alright, then,” you concede. “Behave while you’re there.”
“I will, Y/N!” Wilbur says, running off with Niki.
You watch them go for a few moments until you’re reminded of the toddler sitting on your hip. Tommy squirms around, wanting down. You set him on the ground and walk with him inside.
You set him up with some paper and crayons at the kitchen table. You sit across from him, watching as he carefully looks over his color options before choosing the red crayon.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, bud,” you muse.
You pet Tommy’s hair before you stand, moving to start on dinner. You season meat and chop potatoes, humming to yourself and keeping an eye on Tommy. Thankfully, your youngest brother isn’t a picky eater, which makes meals a lot easier than they could be, especially since he’s been in the solid foods stage for a while now.
The rest of the night is fairly quiet. You and Tommy eat dinner then you do the dishes while he waddles around the living room and plays with some of his toys. You can hear him experimenting with running, his footfalls surprisingly loud for such a small human. You hear him fall, as well, but without any crying then the return of his heavy footsteps, you don’t go to check on him.
You start composing your next shopping list and check the calendar for any upcoming events. There’s a festival next week that you’re meant to chaperone Wilbur and his friends at. Maybe you can team up with Puffy so Tommy can play with Tubbo, and Dream can join Wilbur. You’ll ask her tomorrow.
You hear Tommy enter the kitchen. He waddles over to where you sit at the table and crawls into your lap. He grabs your free hand and starts playing with your fingers as you continue writing down what you’ll need for your bigger grocery run in a few days.
“Mom.”
You freeze.
What?
“Mom.”
You look down at Tommy.
He looks up at you, “Mom.”
“N-No...,” you say weakly.
“Mom.”
“No, I’m not your mom.”
“Mom.”
“No...”
“Mom!” Tommy says happily. “Mom mom mom!”
“Okay, okay,” you say shakily, putting a hand gently over your little brother’s mouth to get him to stop. “Okay, good job.”
Your vision’s blurry. You want to cry. Your chest hurts. But right now, Tommy’s said his first word.
“Good job,” you repeat.
You pull Tommy into a hug and wipe at your eyes behind his back.
Tommy rests his little cheek on your shoulder, already tired but quickly drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, “Mom...”
“Shhh,” you say, voice weak.
Tommy goes limp, asleep in your arms. As your tears begin to fall, you make sure not to let your sobs move you. How has this happened? Mom. No. You’re not a mother. Except you are. In every way that matters, you are Tommy’s mother. You’ve raised him ever since Phil brought him home that day.
You wish your family was normal. As normal as a family of four adopted children, a single father, and a non-biological uncle could be. You wish your dad was home more. You wish you didn’t have to be the only parental figure Tommy has ever known. It’s to the point he calls you mom. How could Phil let it get to this? How could he care so little?
You just want to have a normal family with parents who are adults and kids who are allowed to be children. You did not get to be a child, but Wilbur and Tommy will. You will always be there for them. You promise. You will give them what you had taken from you. Hatred for your father burns in your chest but it’s quickly snuffed out, doused by nostalgia that longs for a childhood you never had.
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idy-ll-ique · 3 years
Text
My Little Secret.
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Innocent!F!Reader
Genre : Fluff, little bit of Angst
Warnings: none
Requested: nope
Summary: Y/N listens to music 24/7 on Spotify. At first Ransom is irritated, but now he knows just how to use the application to his benefit. I mean, come on, it can't be considered stalking if it's his wife, right?
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! oml a ransom drysdale fanfiction 😳 if I ever meet this asshole in real life I'd sock him in the jaw but in fiction? mamma mia. enjoy!
---
Does she really love an app more than me?
Ransom scoffed to himself as he opened his laptop, clicking on the music app, Spotify. He rarely used it, but his wife was obsessed with it. She listened to music 24/7; singing along to the soft tunes in her playlists while working, reading, cleaning, cooking, anything. Ransom thought it was insane how submerged she was in the activity.
Until that activity gave him an upper-hand in their relationship.
When he had first opened the app on his laptop, he was a tad bit surprised at the "Friends Activity" feature. He saw her account. Then, as more months passed, he started noticing how when she was happy, she'd always be listening to some happy playlist, when she was sad she'd be listening to sad songs, et cetera. And he started using it to his advantage.
Now, everyday before leaving his office he'd check the app to see what playlist she was listening to. If it was a happy, dance playlist, well and fine. But a sad one? Ransom's mood would also sour because my darling is not feeling okay. While going home, he'd buy something for her; mostly flowers or chocolates, or a nice little trinket that he'd find in the displays of shops that he thought his wife would enjoy.
He never told her about it. What he was doing would be considered stalking but come on, is it stalking if she's your wife? As the app finally loaded, his eyes immediately strayed to the Friends Activity and his heart clenched when he saw her listening to her sad playlist that she had named Melancholy. Sighing, he turned off the laptop and left his office for the night.
As he drove back home, he stopped outside a flower shop and bought an adorable little bouquet of mixed flowers. "She'll love it," the florist assured him, assuming he was buying it for his significant other. He gave her a quick smile and got back into the car, driving home as fast as he could. When he reached home, his heart broke at the sniffle he heard.
"Kitten?" Y/N's head shot up at her husband's voice as she hurriedly wiped her tears, getting up from her spot on the couch. "Hi, welcome home," she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips, smiling widely to avoid being caught. "Hello, how was your day?" He wanted to sigh, to chide her for keeping her bad mood from him, but he only smiled at how cute she looked trying to hide her true feelings.
"It wasn't bad! So, shower first and dinner later or dinner first?"
Now was the time. "Kitten, the truth, please. How was your day?" He raised a stern eyebrow when her face fell. How does he always read me so well? Knowing she couldn't hide now, she hung her head low as her shoulders sagged. "It was bad," she muttered. Ransom pulled her close, her head resting on his chest, his chin atop her head. "What happened? I swear if it's those fucking coworkers of yours—"
Her silence gave him the answer. The thing is, when Ransom and Y/N had started going out, everyone in the city was shocked. A cute, innocent little thing like her dating an asshole like him? Why? She had lost quite a few friends when she told them, but Ransom was there for her. "You don't need them, you have me." He was right. While the world saw him as a first-class jerk, he was the softest soul with her.
Her priorities were always placed before his. He took care of her, treated her like no previous boyfriend of hers had, and within 2 years of dating, he had proposed. People were even more shocked. She managed to get him to settle down?! How?! Then the gossip began. "He has to be cheating, I mean look at him. Look at her," she had heard one time after the engagement. That had made her super upset.
"Ransom, they're talking… someone said you were cheating on me…" She had broken down on his chest that night, crying her eyes out. And Ransom had immediately switched off the television. He sat up, holding her close. "You know I'd never do that, angel. Why would I, when you're with me? Do you really think those women out there have the same effect on me that you do? Huh?"
"Well, they said… they said I was ugly."
"What?! Those fucking whores—"
"Ransom, don't call them that," she had chided, swatting his chest. He caught the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip. "If it makes you feel better, no, I'm not cheating on you. I love you a little too much to do that. You mean the world to me, Y/N, there's no one on this planet I'd rather be with than you. And you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, in and out," he told her sincerely.
Her crying ceased. "Thank you." And he held her close the entire night, rubbing her back as she slept on him. People talking about him? He could handle that, God knows he had been handling that for years. But them talking about her? His perfect, angelic, goddess-like fiancée? No, no, he wouldn't handle that. That whole thing was 4 years ago. People still talked.
"What did they say to you, Y/N?" he asked, coming back to the real world.
"They asked me why I was still with you." He exhaled loudly through his nose when Y/N's arms tightened around him. "I told them I loved you. You are nice, you're not what everyone says you are. But then Amy talked about… about how you used to be— what was the word she used? Oh, uh, yeah, she said you were something of a Casanova before you met me. But I told her that was over."
His arms snaked around her waist, his fingers gently dancing over her hips as she continued speaking. "She insisted that people can't just change over a small period of time. I tried ignoring her but then she started gossiping with someone else about you. And then I snapped at her. But you know me…" Ransom hummed, pressing his lips to her forehead.
His wife had a docile soul. Everything from her looks to her mannerisms was soft. She couldn't yell, she couldn't tell people off— she was too pure to do that. The world needed people like her, to be honest. That was also one of the things he liked about her. Sometimes, he thought about how beneficial it would be for her to hold her own in a fight, but his ego shoved the thought down each time.
He liked being her big protector. He loved taking care of her like that. "Yes, I know, angel. You're too good for this world, you know that?" he mumbled, slightly pulling away from her so he could cup her face, looking into her eyes. She huffed and looked away. "I'm too soft. I can't help it. I don't want to be this way." He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. "Oh no, you should definitely be this way."
"Why?"
"Because it suits you. Don't change for people who don't even care about you. I like you like this; gentle, caring… you have the biggest heart in the world, Y/N. And I want to keep it that way. Don't let people ruin your innocence. Keep being you." He pressed her closer when she started sniffling again. "You're too good to me," she pouted and he laughed. "That's my duty as your husband, kitten. Look, I bought flowers."
He took out the bouquet from his bag, smiling when Y/N's eager hands accepted it. "Thank you! Oh, these are so beautiful! Let me replace the flowers in the vase on the dining table!" Squealing, she walked away from him, leaving him to stare after her with an infatuated smile. You have no idea what you do to me, angel.
---
"Night, Ran," Y/N yawned, keeping her phone away. He held his arm up and Y/N snuggled into his side, allowing him to wrap his arm around her side. "Night, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her nose. He watched TV for some time until the match got boring; then he switched it off and carefully lay down on the bed, about to doze off when Y/N's phone rang. He blinked. Who'd be calling at his hour?
He lifted the phone off the nightstand, grimacing when he saw the Caller ID. Amy. As soon as he picked the phone up, Amy started blabbering. "Hi! Sorry I'm calling so late, Y/N, but I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you at work today. It was wrong of me, really, I hope you can forgive me!" Ransom stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He had been hearing that line for years.
"Ransom, it's okay, she apologized, she won't be doing it again. She told me so herself!"
It was never the last time.
"Are you done?" he snapped and Amy froze on the other side. "M-Mr Drysdale—" "Listen, I don't want to hear it. I'm not Y/N; she has a heart of gold, God, I wonder why I let her hang out with people whose hearts are made of pure shit. How many times have you apologized for the same thing, huh? Using my girl's pure heart to your fucking advantage like that?"
"You're being—"
"I'm being what? I'm being rude? Who started it? If you ever mention our marriage in front of Y/N again, I'll have your fucking head." Amy bristled on the other side. "Are you threatening me?" Ransom smirked. "If you don't want to be threatened, I suggest you keep your nose out of other people's business. What mine and Y/N's relationship is like is no one's concern."
Amy stayed silent. "Gossiping won't get you anywhere. I have the best lawyers in the city, and I swear, if Y/N comes crying to me one more time about how someone was rude to her, I'll sue. Trust me, I will take legal action. Is that understood?" Amy quaked at his menacing tone. "Y-Yes, sir." Ransom's lips curled into a devious smile. "Great." And he ended the call.
"Ransom, who was that?" Y/N sleepily murmured next to him. She hadn't heard a word of the conversation, but could tell he was on the phone. "No one you need to worry about, sweetheart, go to sleep. I'm here." He lay down next to her, pulling her close. "You know, I have a question." He nodded at her to go on. "How do you always know when I'm going to be in a bad mood?"
"What do you mean?" he smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. "I mean, I have been wondering for years! Everytime I happen to be in a bad mood, you bring home a gift. It's like— it's like you can read my mind! How?! It can't be a coincidence, it has happened a lot of times for it to be a coincidence," she rambled and Ransom's heart fluttered at how innocent and adorable she looked.
"I have my ways," he teased, lightly poking her nose. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?" she pouted and he couldn't help but lean forward, pressing his lips to hers. "Nope, just so I can keep surprising you." She giggled, snuggling further into his arms until her face was pressed into his bare chest. "I love you so much, Ransom," she whispered. "I love you more, my sweet little angel."
Both of them went to sleep with giddy smiles on their faces.
Oh, and the Spotify thing? That was his little secret. Shh, don't tell anyone!
---
A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!
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chocolateheart · 3 years
Text
Door number 12
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Title: Door Number 12
Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?
Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo
A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!
A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!
A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3
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Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.
This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.
Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.
No, not again!
Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.
Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.
When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.
"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.
"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.
"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.
However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.
"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."
You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.
On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.
You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.
You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.
Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.
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If only you could actually focus on college work.
After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.
Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.
Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.
“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”
Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.
“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.
“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”
“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.
“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”
He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”
After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.
“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.
“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”
Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.
Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.
Winchester was just a pain in the ass.
Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.
Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.
“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.
You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.
“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.
“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”
“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.
“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.
“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.
“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.
“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.
“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.
Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.
“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.
“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”
“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.
“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”
“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.
“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.
“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.
"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."
"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.
"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?
"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.
"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"
"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.
"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.
Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.
Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.
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“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.
You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.
“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.
After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.
“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.
“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”
“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.
“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.
“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”
“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.
“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.
“Sure.”
And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…
The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.
“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.
“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”
“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”
“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.
Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.
You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.
You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.
You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.
Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.
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With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.
The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.
Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.
Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.
“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.
“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.
Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”
He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.
“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.
"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."
He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.
"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”
You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.
“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”
“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”
“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?
“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”
“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.
“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”
“Ian is a cool guy!”
“Good!”
You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.
“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.
“You wish.”
Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.
Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.
There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.
However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.
You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.
The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.
"Fuck it."
Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.
You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.
“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.
Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.
The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.
“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.
Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.
“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”
The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?
The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.
Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.
“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.
This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.
Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.
With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.
Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.
“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.
Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.
Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.
You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.
"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.
Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.
Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.
Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.
Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.
The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.
A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.
Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.
“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.
“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.
The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.
A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.
Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.
After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.
Oh, so he could be gentle too.
Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.
"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"
You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?
"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.
"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."
Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.
"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.
"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.
Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.
You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.
"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."
You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.
"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.
"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.
"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.
“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.
You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.
And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3
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duskholland · 3 years
Text
The Box || Tom Holland
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summary ↠ you feel a mysterious object in tom’s pocket... word count ↠ 4.2k. warnings ↠ mildly suggestive, but this is just some very easy domestic fluff :’) a/n ↠ this is a rewrite of a fic I wrote back in 2018! I sat down just to edit it, but I ended up adding 2.5k and changing most of it. lmao. it’s very cute though. very gentle. I was in a proper state after watching cherry, and working on this soothed my soul <3 hope you like it!
if you want to read the original version of this fic, you can find the link for it here <3
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You wake up to an empty bed and immediately get the suspicion that something is amiss. The sheets are pulled down, the duvet crumpled, and the mattress cool. As you draw your tired fingers over the space beside you, a soft pout finds your lips.
Tom’s away so often that he rarely skips out on the opportunity to cuddle you in the morning, and if he does, he’s always attentive in the way he pulls the duvet to your chin and tucks you in. He knows you hate to be cold, so he’d never usually jump out of bed so recklessly, leaving behind his uncovered side and your leg sticking out the duvet.
Perplexed, you yawn as you sit up. A quick glance at your phone confirms that it’s still early, and you find your confusion about your boyfriend’s disappearance quickly turning into concern. With a furrow to your brow, you slowly get out of bed, groaning softly as your tired limbs stretch and click. There’s an ache between your legs that makes you bite your lip, memories of the night before flittering through your mind like polaroids. You see flashes of a rose-tinted Tom, kissing up your thighs, panting into your shoulder, moaning sweet words of praise against your lips. He’d made you dinner, then laid you down, and you’d felt like the only person in the world as he’d cupped your cheeks and shown how much he loved you.
After pulling on a pair of leggings and a jumper, you find your curious feet taking you off in the direction of the living room. You hear Tom before you see him—the sounds of socks dragging over plush carpet filling the air. He’s pacing, half-naked, thick arms crossed over his bare chest as a few fingers stroke his chin. He’s in a thick pair of fuzzy purple socks, and rounding off the ensemble are some simple grey sweats.
When your boyfriend reaches the other side of the living room, he pivots and starts to walk back towards you, gaze vacant and fixed on the floor. There’s a tenseness to his jaw that you haven’t seen in a while, the valley between his brows pronounced and deep. Stress is obvious in every single part of his person, and it makes you so concerned that you decide to shatter his reverie.
With a gentle clear of your throat, you step forwards.
“Tom?” you say, voice soft. Your eyes widen as he startles, head snapping up, loose brown curls springing through the air. “Baby, are you okay?”
He blinks at you for a few moments, seeming to shake off the daydream as his lips pull into an instinctive smile. When he meets your eyes, the nerves on Tom’s face start to melt. He gives you a tight nod as he walks towards you, folding into your outstretched arms and immediately burying his face in the crook of your neck.  
“I’m fine,” he vibrates, voice dark and husky like it always is in the morning. “Are you?”
You cup the back of his head with your palm, dragging your fingers through his curls in a way that soothes him. He’s so warm, his arms strong as they wind around your waist and hold you in a tight hug. Your heart beats a little faster at his question. He’s always been so attentive, even in times like these where it’s clear that he’s significantly worse off than you.
“I’m okay,” you respond. You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he releases a quiet sound of approval, snuggling closer. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” You pause for a few moments, hesitating. “Is something wrong? Is this about last night?”
You know that Tom loves you. He shows you every single day that he adores you. He leaves your special mug out by the kettle, brings home your favourite snacks from the shops, does your dreaded household tasks unprompted. He looks after you when you’re ill, has all the names of your extended family memorised, and always does his best to coax a smile onto your face. His love for you is as obvious as the stars that twinkle in the sky.
Yet, he left you alone, and he’s stressed, and even as you’re voicing your concerns, you can feel him tug himself free from your embrace. It’s hard not to focus on the loosening of his arms and think about his odd behaviour from the last few days. Tom’s been on his phone more, acting scatter-brained and nervous. You don’t doubt his love, but with his life as hectic as it is, you worry about him.
“Last night?” Tom says. He pulls back, warm hands falling to your waist as he peers at you, shaking his head. “Darling.” He frowns. “Last night was amazing.” His lips pull into a slight smirk as he squeezes your hips, eyes glinting a shade darker. “I had fun. Didn’t you?”
You press a light kiss to his cheek, shifting both of your hands to cup his face. His skin is so soft beneath your fingertips. “I had a nice time,” you agree, pushing back the memories before you can get too lost in them. “You’ve been stressed recently,” you observe, treading gently. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”
Tom closes his eyes, inhaling a quick breath. “Yeah... I know. I… Yeah. I’m fine.”
You play with a few strands of his hair, trying not to frown too much. “Are you sure?”
He pries open an eye, the honeyed hues of brown bringing you a sense of comfort. “I’m a little stressed at the moment. I have to do something today, and I… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, love… A lot.” He breaks into a breathless chuckle, swallowing nervously. “It’ll be fine. I know it will, but I… I can’t stop thinking about it.” Tom’s gaze shadows a little, and he swallows. “You do… You do love me, don’t you?”
“You have to know how much of a silly question that is.”
Tom bites at his lip as he sheepishly averts his gaze. “Yeah…” He’s sly as he gently pushes forwards to kiss your cheek. “‘Know you really loved me last night,” he rasps into your ear.
You roll your eyes, but you’re glad to see there’s some colour coming back to his cheeks. “What are you doing that’s got you so nervous?”
“Oh… Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Tom looks a little perkier now as he glances at you. “Nothing,” he repeats. “Well, a secret,” he clarifies. “I can’t tell you yet.”
Immediately you pout. “But why?” you whine, pulling your hands away from his face. “You can’t say all that and then not tell me what you’re doing.”
“Yes, I can.” He grins as he steps back, only leaving you once he’s kissed your lips. He hesitates for a moment before adding, “I love you. So much, darling.”
“I know,” you respond, tilting your head to the side as you look at him curiously. “I love you too.”
“Good. Good…” Tom steps back, briefly glancing behind you to the living room wall. His eyes widen as he looks at the clock. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I need to go.”
Tom runs away before you have a chance to catch him, stumbling back into the bedroom as he mutters something about finding some clothes. You decide to leave him to it, a yawn reminding you of how early it still is. You wonder for a moment why he hadn’t mentioned he had an early call time last night, but he’s been so all over the place recently that it doesn’t surprise you.
As you wait for Tom to re-emerge, you walk over into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle. You can hear him whistling to himself through all the open doors, and the melody mixes with the sound of your teaspoon bumping against the ceramic of your mug. It’s your favourite one—Tom had brought it back from Paris for you.
You’ve just settled at the kitchen table when Tom bursts back into the room, properly clothed and considerably more at ease. His hair is a little wild, but he’s in a pair of jeans and a lilac hoodie, and he wears his smile with confidence.
“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous this morning, darling?” Tom murmurs. He springs across to you, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the counter as he goes. When he reaches you, he tightly cups your cheeks and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Because you are, y’know? The most beautiful woman in the world.”
You chuckle as you sit back in your chair, cheeks aching from your dopey smile. “Thank you,” you respond. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.”
Tom pulls on his jacket and then reaches down, stealing your mug of tea and taking a long sip before you have time to warn him about how hot it still is. You watch as he splutters, cheeks burning red as he releases a yelp of pain.
“Fucking hell!” he yells, cursing a little more as he puts the mug back down. Tom sticks out his tongue, tenderly reaching up to poke at the tip as he winces. “Ow,” he whines, the word garbled around his open mouth. “It hurts.”
He looks very sweet standing there, and for a moment, you wonder how it’s possible to love someone so much. Your affections smother your chest, and you almost choke up as you’re briefly overcome with a sensation of utter adoration. It’s so intense that it almost hurts, but it aches in the most wonderful way.
You stand quickly and press a soft kiss to the tip of Tom’s tongue. He smiles and retracts it, chasing after your lips until he’s able to kiss you.
“It’s Harrison’s birthday party tonight,” Tom says as he steps back, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’ll be back from set at 9, then we can go. Is that still okay?”
You nod. “Yeah,” you reply. “Have a good day doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
He smirks elusively, then presses a final peck to your cheek before turning towards the porch. “Bye!” Tom pauses in the doorway to look back and send you a few air kisses, and you pucker your lips and send a couple back. The front door closes with a gentle click, and your smile lingers on.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You think about Tom’s behaviour all day, flipping between confusion and adoration as easily as the wind changes its mind. When 5pm rolls around, you find your way back home, and you spend a few hours milling around before you get ready for the event.
With your dress on and your bag slung over your shoulder, you wait in the porch for Tom to pull up, scrolling through your phone with a crease between your brows. Time is ticking, and with every second your boyfriend fails to show, the nearer you get to being late for the party.
When there’s a bright burst of light and the crunching of gravel, you glance up to see Tom’s headlights douse the driveway to your house. You’re surprised when he clambers from the car instead of jauntily honking the horn as he’s taken such an irritating liking to doing. You watch him mess around with his jeans before hurrying along the front path, pushing open the front door a moment later and startling when he sees you waiting.
“Oh!” he exclaims wide-eyed. His hand drifts down to rest over the left pocket of his jeans. “You’re here?”
You pull a face. “Yes? Hello to you too.”
Tom grunts as he moves forward to kiss you hastily, jumping back when you try to pull at his waist and bring him nearer. As you’re left baffled by his behaviour again, he seems to swallow down a lump in his throat.
“Hi,” he corrects, smiling nervously. “I, uh… I’m going to go and change.”
You wince. “We don’t have time,” you point out, reaching out to gently tug on his sleeve. You turn around, reaching back to pluck one of Tom’s stylish jackets from a peg. You offer it to him with a smile. “Try this,” you suggest. “We really need to go, though, Tom. Haz won’t let us live it down if we’re late to another one of his parties.”
Tom hesitates. You watch as he digs his hand into his left pocket, clucking his tongue. “I… Yeah. Okay. You’re right.” His eyes flutter back to the main body of your house, but his reluctance fades when you nod and peck him on the cheek. He easily pulls off his hoodie before replacing it with the jacket, the red of the smart coat complementing his black t-shirt.
“C’mon,” you urge. “Do you want me to drive?”
He begrudgingly follows you out of the house, locking up behind you both before slipping into the passenger seat. As you navigate the roads, Tom keeps you company, nurturing a constant dialogue as he chats to you. He avoids all of your questions about his day and his mysterious engagement, redirecting everything you say into a comment about you and your activities. It’s cute how much he cares, but you get a distinct feeling that he’s trying to distract you.
Harrison’s birthday party is being held in a bar in central London, and you find him easily amongst the throes of people. Tom’s holding onto your hand, standing back, quieter, as you pass over your gift to his best friend with a smile on your face.
“Happy birthday, Haz!” you exclaim, beaming at the man. Harrison kisses your cheek as he grins, cheeks flushed from the booze and warm atmosphere. When Tom is noticeably quiet beside you, you squeeze his hand and glance back at him, raising a brow.
“Oh,” Tom mutters, blinking a few times. “Sorry,” he adds. “Happy birthday, Harrison.”
Harrison rolls his eyes. “‘S alright, mate. You already passed on your congratulations earlier. Thanks, though.”
Your friend is pulled away by his sister a few moments later, leaving you with a confused furrow to your brow. You turn around to look at Tom, tilting your head to the side.
“Wait, when did you see Harrison?” you ask. “Weren’t you at work today?”
Tom reels you in by the hands, knocking his lips up against yours and disrupting your words. “Doesn’t matter,” he soothes, rolling his fingers gently across the sides of your face. “Let’s just have a good party, yeah?”
You melt into him with ease. “Okay,” you agree. His lips are warm and seductive as he kisses you again, deeper, harder, stronger.
Something is in the air. As a pair, you make a few rounds of the party, but somehow, you always end up huddled in a back corner together. As the alcohol flows and your friends around you get less and less observant, it happens more often. It isn’t long until Tom’s tugging you down onto a secluded armchair in the corner of the artsy bar. Your lips find home in his, slotting together as they always do.
As you shift in his lap, part of you feels guilty for blowing off Harrison’s birthday, but another part—a darker, hungrier part—demands you stay exactly where you are. You’re awfully comfortable with Tom’s hands on your hips and your legs spread over his thighs, content with the shadowy lighting leaving you secluded from the rest of them.
“Oh god,” Tom moans, speaking against your lips as he kisses you between laboured breaths. “Fuckin’ perfect woman, eh?”
You suck on his lower lip, smirking as you feel him whine. He discreetly grinds up into you, and you bite back a whimper. “Tom,” you whisper. You move your mouth to his ear, stroking your fingers through his curls as you brush your lips over his tender skin. “We shouldn’t do this here. We can’t go home just yet.”
He groans, head dropping down to your collarbones. When you expect him to agree and help you up, Tom instead seems to decide that his time would be better spent marking up your neck. Your pulse roars through your ears as he takes time licking and sucking and biting your skin, stretching from the base of your neck all the way up, up, up, soft lips suckling below your ear. By the time he reaches your face, you’re squirming, heat pounding in your body as desire replaces any wish to stay at the party.
“We should just go home,” Tom pants, lips red and inflamed. Your fingers drag over them until he uses his tongue to lick over the pad of your thumb. “I can’t take being here.” His voice drops down to a low grumble as he shifts in the chair, “‘m so hard, sweetheart.”
Wanting to feel for yourself, you shuffle up his lap, eyebrows furrowing together when instead of feeling his hardness, your knee knocks against something firm lodged where his pocket is. Confusion replaces lust as you tilt your head to the side. “Wait, what’s that?” you muse, unable to believe that his arousal has manifested itself in his jean pocket. Intrigued, you poke the object, pressing harder as your brows furrow.
Tom’s eyes widen. “O-Oh, no, that’s something else.” His hands go down to your waist as he tries to gently push you off his lap. “Just ignore it.”
But your curiosity has been piqued, and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached up and dug your fingers into his tight jean pocket. It’s dim and dark in your secluded corner, and you find yourself squinting as you bring the small object closer. Too focused on your task to hear Tom’s noises of panic, you pull it up into the air. As the first dredges of realisation wash over you, you’ve got it half-open, and it’s too late to stop yourself.
There is a glistening engagement ring embedded inside the silky black box, glinting magnificently.
Your jaw drops.
A few moments pass in silence, the air between you being filled by the songs coming from the bar. Your thumb wanders absently over the edge of the jewel as you peer at it, heart throbbing in the back of your throat. Guilt twists into you, mixing with your excitement and your shock, and you look up at Tom, tears pooling in your eyes.
He’s looking at you, nerves written all over his face. His teeth are bared, and his eyes are wide with shock, every inch of him seized up and tense. When Tom sees your tearful expression, he blinks a few times, clearing his throat as he tenderly reaches up to cup your face in a hand.
“Darling…” he starts, voice softer than before. He drums his index finger over your temple as he manages a tense smile. “What’s going on up here?”
You open and shut your mouth a few times before finally finding the words.
“I’m sorry,” you manage, voice thick. “I…” You take a breath, looking away. Your mind starts to spin, suddenly kicking back to life as you recover yourself. “Wait… Why have you got this in your pocket? Did… Oh. Did you get this today?”
Everything makes sense. His nerves all week, his pacing this morning. The fact he’d left suspiciously early and met up with Harrison without you. Tom’s conflict when you’d pushed him out the door instead of letting him enter your house and stash the little black box before leaving for the party.
“Yeah,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. His chest is rising and falling quickly, his jaw still tense. “What do you think? Do… Do you like it?”
You nod wordlessly before looking up at him, lower lip wobbling. “I ruined it,” you lament. You fall forward, groaning as you rest your forehead on Tom’s shoulder. He chuckles, dusting the top of your head with light kisses as he hums.
“You didn’t,” he assures you. “I’m just a twat and didn’t hide it properly.” He falls silent for a few moments, warm hands wandering your back. “Y/N, darling… You… You would want to get married though, yeah?” His voice is light and high-pitched and full of so much uncertainty it makes you bolt upright.
“Tom,” you say, voice soft. You balance the box between you and reach up to take his face in your hands, admiring his handsome features with your fingers. “I would love to marry you,” you whisper. You feel yourself well with emotions again, but you let them build. You don’t mind if he sees you vulnerable.  
Tom releases a deep breath, his own face twitching as relief ripples across his eyes in the form of light tears. He leans closer and kisses you very gently, his mouth soft and tender as if he’s savouring it. When Tom pulls away, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, the tip of his nose cool against yours.
“I love you so much,” he says slowly. “Every day, I wake up beside you, and I wonder what I did right to deserve being loved by someone as wonderful as you. I hate being away from you, and I think about you all the time.” Tom cracks a soft smile, his voice quivering. With trembling fingers, he reaches between you both and picks the box from between you both.
You gasp softly as he pulls back, squeezing your hip softly before holding the box out in front of you. The diamonds sparkle, blurred by your tears.
“Y/N… I didn’t plan to do this tonight, and I know this is sudden, and I know you deserve a proposal a thousand times more romantic than… than at Harrison’s fucking party, but I can’t wait another moment.” He swallows as he pulls the ring from the bed of silk. Tom’s gaze is unwavering as he looks back to you, speaking passionately. “There’s nothing else I want in life apart from you. I promise that I will love you for the rest of my life, darling, if only you’ll let me. So…” Tom’s lips pull into a small smile. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?”
The world stops, and everything fades until it’s just you and Tom and the ring held between you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, two stray tears dripping down your face.
“Tom… You could ask me to marry you anywhere, and I’d say the same thing.” Your heart pounds in your ears. “Yes. I would love to be your wife.”
Tom releases a strangled sound of relief, and you both look down as he hurries to push the ring down your finger. It’s cool against your skin, but before looking at it, you find yourself leaning in to kiss him. Both of you are smiling, and you think he’s crying too. His hand shakes as he holds yours, and when you pull away to admire the ring, Tom loops both arms around your waist.
“It’s so pretty,” you muse. You roll your thumb across the glittering gem. You feel so warm inside your chest. “Did you pick this out yourself?”
Tom makes a noise of disagreement. He cuddles in closer, burying his face in your neck and leaving a few soft kisses to your skin.
“Haz helped, and so did mum. Thought she’d have better ideas than him.” Tom pauses, and you feel him smirk against your neck. “I was right.”
Your heart softens a little at the revelation. “Do you think he’ll be upset that we’ve upstaged him at his party?”
Tom peels back from your neck, pressing his lips to your jaw as he chuckles. “Let’s...maybe not mention it tonight.”
You run your hand through his hair, eyes catching on the way the diamond cascades with shards of light. “Okay,” you agree. You lean closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Are you sure you’re not mad I ruined this?”
Tom shakes his head. “Absolutely not, love. If anything, this just makes it more special.” He shoots you a toothy grin. “Don’t know what I’ll do with all the stuff I bought to use in the proposal, though.”
You smirk softly. “Well, who says you can’t do two proposals?” you say, intending for it to be a tease, only to widen your eyes when Tom’s entire face lights up. “Wait— babe, I was kidding, you don’t need to do another—”
“Shhh.” Tom cuts you off with a kiss. “Pretend that this conversation never happened.”  
“What, even the proposal—”
“No.” He’s grinning, eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re marrying me.”
Your lips twitch as you give him a slight nod. “Yeah. And you’re marrying me.” Tom kisses you again, and you fall back into his lap with ease. For a few moments, you make out with him, the temperature in your body rising until you remember what started off the conversation, an eternity ago. “Can we go home now, Tom?”
He’s a little slow to respond as he chases your lips, but the smile you share feels like dawn breaking for the first time.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’ll take you home, fiancé.”
And you like the sound of that. You really like the sound of that.
“Okay, fiancé.”
Judging by the unstoppable grin that finds Tom’s face as he hears you speak, you have a feeling that he likes the sound of it too.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
:’))) im going to be rewriting/reworking a few of my older fics! if there are any in particular you’d like to see refreshed, lmk? 
lmk what you thiiiiink !!! <3<3<3<3
masterlist + taglist through the link in my bio wahey :D
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