Lance was never proud of the one thing that could make him stand out.
(The one thing that made him stand, even in his family, the one thing that destroyed the chances of affection and hugs and attention, the one thing he’d never move past, the one thing that’d always haunt him, the one thing that could get someone killed)
Lance was born with a smooth back, tan skin free of birth marks but full of freckles. Lance was born with beautiful blue eyes, deep tawny hair, and a dazzling smile. Lance was not born with a pair of wings.
Lance was wingless.
Less than 1% of the world was wingless, and that meant those who were….never had good fates. Abandonment, abuse, neglect, suicide rates almost a solid 100….anyone born wingless in this time and age was destined a shitty fate, to die for the lack of something they could not have.
But Lance did not.
His mother hated him with her very soul, but even she wasn’t heartless enough to murder someone, no matter how indirectly. His siblings might laugh with him, might eat with him, but they were never around for more than a few seconds, tossing looks over their shoulder for a parent or aunt or uncle. Lance was hidden away, kept out of sight by his parents and family for his whole life, living in the attic or traipsing the private stretch of beach that had been in his family for years, hearing the voice of the sky but never being able to answer it. (Not like he could without wings, anyway)
But then, he found a way he could.
The Galaxy Garrison, a military school where uniforms over wings were required, where group preening, cuddling, and flying sessions were encouraged but never mandatory. A place he could hide in plain sight and still see the sky. A place Lance signed up for in secret, got a scholarship, and shoved it all at his parents, the father who’d taught him the wingless were useless and the mother who never hugged him. A place that hate crimes couldn’t trace back to and murder his family if his secret ever got out.
It was too good to be true.
And it was. Lance was never the best, always mocked for trying to answer the call of the sky for the first time in his life. It wasn’t like when he’d answered the push and pull of the ocean. The ocean was cool, sometimes cold or freezing, but sage, wise and ready to crash and fall and crest back up. Ready to change, ready to grow, ready to soothe. Content to watch and learn, finding complexity in the simplest things, but brave enough to venture out on it’s own, to try on its own to live up and live past expectatons. The ocean was a gentle hand running over his back, swirling him around in currents of fate and past, gentle but wild, pushing but never shoving.
The sky shoved, but in what Lance saw as a good way. Watching gaggles of siblings and uncles and aunts swoop and soar, thrown out into organized anarchy midair, riding drafts. The sky was wild, insane. It could not sit still, it could not listen, it could not be gentle or understand. It was headstrong or helpful, stubborn or relenting. There was no in between. When it’s chicks matured and reached for the air, the sky threw them out, to the ground or the air.
A few chicks crashed, or came close, but they picked themselves back up, flapped with crooked or straight feathers, and chased the others. The ocean did not work that way. It could mimic, but it would never let it’s young crash or drown unless it was the best choice. Lance was glad for that, though he knew the sky would have pushed him faster, harder, to be who he could be, he knew he’d be the rare smashed egg, splattered on the concrete.
If it took years, he didn’t care. He was alive.
Lance remembers the looks at the Garrison at night or on weekends when he wore a bulky jacket and the issued pajamas, instead of snatching the chance to stretch his wings. The stares, the quirked eyebrows that the kid who joked, flirted, and screamed on a regular basis wouldn’t try for more attention.
Hunk, dear god Hunk, had wings big enough for both of them.
Beautiful, mahogany feathers that glowed golden on the ends when light shined on them. Thick, massive wings that he’d drape around Lance’s shoulder, wings that engulfed him in warmth and affection and took away unwanted attention. Too many people saw Hunk’s wings as plain. Lance saw them as a fucking savior, the first thing to treat him nicely and warmly.
But this savior need protecting from the savee.
Which was why Lance never told Hunk, or the team, that he was wingless.
Even Alteans had wings.
Coran’s were a gorgeous tangerine color, white, brown, red, and black speckles slipping between the feathers and coating them like candy sugar. Allura’s were an exact image of Alfor’s, deep, black wings the color of the vastness around them, silver streaks and dots making constellations that shined in lights.
The team’s may have been Earthen, but god, were they ethereal. Shiro, had a collage of slate gray and white, individual feathers breaking layers of colors, proof of the stress of the Arena. They peaked at the top, and were enormous, taller than Hunk’s but not quite as wide or thick. Pidge’s wings were peaked, but they curved out into cute little floofs. They only reached her hips, not past her calves or thighs like everyone else. They clearly weren’t fully grown, but Lance loved their speckled outsides, the tawny, earthy, color so close to her hair but clearly had a more hay-ish tint.
Holy shit, Keith.
His wings were like giant sparrow wings, angular but not peaked, wide burgundy curtains of feathers that fell to his thighs. They were warm, and firm, like a well trained muscle (which they were, technically). The ends were sharp and sleek, but the shy wing touches he sometimes gave Lance proved they were incredibly soft. Lance was always reminded of a wolf when he saw them; built for fast paced marathons. They were no where near as strong as Hunk’s, but Lance had watched Keith carry a Pidge in a simulated rescue. Wings weren’t designed to carry more than the weight of one person, the person with them.
He would never have a pair of wings.
So he reveled in the freedom that lacking a pair of wings gave him. Lance climbed, slept on his back, swam, and learned how to read emotions through little tics. The swimming came easily, like the ocean changed for him, parted and shifted to let him pass or propel him ahead. Lance knew he did. Wings weren’t an instant evolution. Generations of humans developed the genes and mutations of wings - Lance wasn’t just going to instantaneously sprout gills. He could, however, form a thin membrane as a sideways, second pair of eyelids. The same membrane acted as a moveable filter in his ears to hear underwater, and a slight webbing between his fingers. Strategically placed, retractable fangs a little bigger than his front teeth weren’t hard either.
The most notable change was when his legs stopped kicking, his knees disabled, and they swished back and forth. He could easily switch to kicking, but the longer he spent in the water, the more his legs acted as a single mass of flesh and bone. It wasn’t a tail, and Lance sometimes thought he was imagining it, but it was like a snake’s body, swinging side to side to move forward.
Wings were amazingly expressive, every angry twitch or nervous shuffle gave way to a mindscape, a scope of emotions and thoughts Lance learned to pick up on. Hiding your wings was seen as a sign of fear, distrust, and refusing to show them was a red flag in any relationship, platonic or romantic. It was normal to reach out and rest a wing on someone else’s as a sign of reassurance, and to purposely keep your tucked away meant you didn’t trust anyone with them. Your wings were essentially your life - if they got wet or mutilated you were grounded, tied to Earth and water.
And water drowned.
To his team, Lance was a hallow corpse without emotions. He was jello before it froze. They could hear his laugh, see his smiles, hear his cheers. But without his wings, the team couldn’t read him clearly. It was like they had lost their glasses, and Lance was the blurred board they couldn’t see, couldn’t guess, couldn’t decipher more than a few letters from.
They didn’t know, so they couldn’t understand. Lance wasn’t sure if he ever wanted them to understand.
Little first moments between the Inquisitor and their love interest that it makes my heart happy to think about:
- The first time Cassandra finds he’s left something for her, a rose lying across her favourite book or a little message scrawled on a piece of parchment cut into the shape of a heart, and realises that the flowers and the candles and the moonlit glade weren’t a one-time thing, this is going to be forever. The first time she picks up the gift and holds it close, knowing it’s not just a gift but a promise that he’s always going to make her feel like one of those women from her books, always going to see the woman inside the armour.
- The first time Blackwall wakes up beside her after she learns the truth, and remembers that he’s not hiding anything from her anymore, she knows exactly who he is and what he’s done and she’s still right here in his arms. The first time he looks at her lying there, and feels tears of a kind he’s not familiar with sting his eyes, tears charged by joy, and at last there’s no burning pang of guilt and grief clawing at his insides - because she knows, and she still chose him, and he can just look at her and be happy.
- The first time Bull slips off his eyepatch, feeling… not awkward, exactly, just very aware that this is the first time his kadan has seen him without it, that so, so few people have ever seen his face just as it is. The first time his lover smiles at him and reaches up and takes his face into their hands, traces the jagged lines of his scars with gentle fingers and presses their lips against them, and murmurs to him that he’s beautiful (and hot, of course).
- The first time Dorian kisses the Inquisitor in a street or in the throne room or in the courtyard, where everyone can see, and his smug grin has a touch of wonder behind it because yes, they can do this, they can show what they feel in front of the entire world and no one is going to come up to them and wrench them apart. The first time he glances at the people who’ve seen them and realises that some of them are even smiling to see them together, that the people around them want them to be happy.
- The first time Solas looks at her and realises with a jolt that he’s stopped seeing the vallaslin, that the silent voice inside him has stopped screaming about the wrongness of it every time he sees her, that while he still wishes it were gone, her face has become the most important thing. The first time that the way she smiles and the warmth in her eyes seem to outshine the marks of her slavery and ignorance, and he aches to think of all she doesn’t know, but she is so beautiful, so beautiful.
- The first time Sera hears the Inquisitor call something shite or frigging and stands frozen for a moment, her grin too wide for her face, because her girlfriend’s speaking like her, those are her words coming from the mouth of the woman she loves. The first time she realises that she’s become a part of the Inquisitor, part of the way she speaks and thinks and lives, and feels joy sweep through her because the Inquisitor is part of her, too, always will be.
- The first time Cullen goes through a whole day with no feverish longing, no shaking, no sick feeling in his stomach, and he knows the battle isn’t over and that all the pain could come back tomorrow, but right now he can look at the Inquisitor and think, this is what the rest of our life could be like. The first time he can really picture long nights and longer mornings beside her with no nightmares and restless sleep, years ahead of listening to her laugh, and he almost cries from the terrifying beauty of it.
- The first time Josephine pens a letter to her family and then stops and stares at what she’s written, because she’s told them all about the Inquisitor and how she hopes to introduce them some day, and just like that it seems so official, it’s set down in ink on parchment that she wants the Inquisitor to be part of her future. The first time she gazes at the letter in awe, because it suddenly seems to be the most precious thing in the world.
happy birthday @mangothatismelancholy !! i know im a few hours early but i won’t have much time to post it tomorrow morning ahaha. i hope you like this and i hope i remembered correctly that daddy kink was your favorite (?). also i hope you have a great birthday dude!!!
Harry watches the wall clock as he waits patiently on his couch, counting the minutes until Y/n finally wakes up.
He’s barely slept all night, feeling a mix of anxiousness and misery as he thought of all the outcomes that could happen today. He also found himself looking at Y/n all night, watching her in her calmest state of mind and feeling a sense of tranquility as he sees her in her most beautiful form.
He could never get tired of it—admiring her in her sleep. But as the morning passed and the late afternoon started approaching, Harry didn’t know what the hell was going on.
She was still asleep, crashed on top of him as snores raided her mouth and the only movement being the slight rise and fall of her chest against his. He started to worry, solely for the fact that she slept at a completely reasonable time last night and was known to be an early riser. And since he barely got a blink of sleep, he knows she didn’t wake up for a second during the night.
At first, when it hit 12 hours since she’d fallen asleep, he tried to brush hair out of her face in an attempt to wake her from her slumber. Nothing came to his avail, however, when all he got was a slight shake of her head and a small smacking of her lips.
When the afternoon started to approach, he started to move his fingertips along her back and neck. But again, nothing; just a slight groan and a movement of her hips to get away from the sensation.
He gave up after that, helpless in disturbing her sleep and trying to get some sort of reassurance in the midst of his worrying. He really needed something, because his nerves were getting the best of him and he needed to rid the anxiety building inside of him.
That’s when he decided to call Gabby.
“She fell asleep at around 10:00 last night and it’s nearly 2:00 now. She’s barely moved, she’s still right on top of me and doesn’t even flinch when I turn. I’m really worried.”
Harry lifts his hand to her hair, softly brushing the knots out with his fingers, waiting to see if there’s any sudden movement. But there’s nothing, just the movements of her soft breath and the occasional repositioning of her neck.
“She’s barely slept in months, Harry. She’s not fully comfortable here, no matter how much she tries to tell me she is. There are nights she doesn’t sleep at all. She’s completely incapable of being alone anymore, she’s always thinking and it doesn’t let her calm down in the slightest, you know? And mixed with everything that happened last night, she’s probably extremely exhausted. Just let her get her sleep, yeah? She really needs it, trust me. Besides, you being there is helping her in the most.”
He looks down at Y/n, where her cheek is pressed against his chest as her eyes are closed in a dream. She looks most beautiful this way. It’s the peaceful, angelic side of her that he always remember her being.
She looks safe, too—away from any potential hurting and pressed so close against him as if he were the protector of her heart. He almost laughs at the irony of it all, how she’s the exact opposite of peaceful and nowhere near protected from any harm—especially in his arms.
And there’s a part of him that wishes he could stay in this moment forever, holding her to him as he watches her in her must vulnerable state. She doesn’t push him away, or tell him to stop staring at her, or cry because he still can’t figure out what to say. She’s oblivious to his admiration, and the second she regains consciousness in her reality, he knows this moment can’t last much longer, no matter how badly he wants it to.
“Yeah, of course I’ll let her sleep. You think I can move from underneath her without waking her? Might make her some food, can feel her stomach growl.”
“Yes, please make her something. She gets really upset sometimes and forgets to eat. They’ll be days I have to remind her. She really needs you to provide for her right now, more than anything. She shouldn’t wake up, though.”
It doesn’t take much convincing to get Harry up from the couch. Although it was a bit of a struggle to maneuver himself from underneath Y/n’s body and out of her tight hold on him—especially between her occasional whimpers and groans from the sudden movements—he managed to do so without waking her up too much.
He decides to make her her favorite breakfast, as well. He knows it won’t distract her from the problems they have to face, but it’s something—it’s something as opposed to all the nothingness he’s been giving her.
It doesn’t take much longer than half an hour before Y/n finally wakes up from her slumber. She’s confused upon her awakening, groggy and the remaining amount of exhaustion still present in her body.
She’s comforted, though, when she acknowledges that she’s back home with the aroma of breakfast filling the air. It reminds her of old times—mornings of her anniversaries with Harry and mornings of their birthdays or purposeful events. It’s everything that she’s missed and it brings a soft smile to her face. Only for a second, though.
“Afternoon.” He smiles softly, eyes watching her every movement as she leans against the doorway of the kitchen.
In any other circumstance, he would have greeted her with a proper kiss and held her against him for a while; but as he observes her red eyes, her tear-stained cheeks, and her overall broken down structure, he knows not to overstep his boundaries.
Y/n frowns, watching what would normally be the most heartwarming sight of her life—Harry cooking in the kitchen of their home, a smile on his face while the sun peeks through the windows—but is now only seeing it as something that could have been.
She wonders if this is how he spent his mornings with Jessica.
He frowns slightly, too, when he sees her in the way she is now. There’s absolutely no life to her. He can tell that the Y/n that he knew is long gone—now replaced by a much more miserable soul. It almost brings tears to his eyes, seeing how much damage and destruction he’s caused onto her. He feels as if he’s taken away Y/n’s heart entirely, only leaving her to suffer through the loss.
“I, uh—" he mutters softly, realizing that he’s been staring at her for longer than he’s probably supposed to, “I made you some chocolate chip pancakes. I know it’s a little after lunch time but Gabby told me you haven’t been eating as much and well, I kind of figured I’d make you something I know you can’t resist.”
She wants to appreciate the gesture, she does. She wishes that she could look past the gloomy side of the situation, and instead focus on the fact they’re together again. Even if it’s the bare minimum—where Harry does all the speaking while she just listens with a stupid pout on her face—there’s a reflection of what their relationship was like before their time apart, and she feels as if it should be making her feel something other than sick to her stomach.
But she just can’t, no matter how hard she tries. She can’t quite understand how he’s doing so well. Not a part of him resembles her ruined self. He’s so put together, even after everything that’s happened. He’s still alive, which is almost the exact opposite of how she feels; and she can’t help but to wonder if he ever felt the way she did—broken and helpless. She wonders if he even cared.
And if there’s anything that can make her feel worse than she already does, it’s if Harry continues to pity her—to treat her like a charity case when he was the reason for all of this. He should be the one sulking from his mistakes, on his knees begging for mercy, but it’s her. She’s suffering the pain for the both of them and she doesn’t know how much longer she can bare it.
“Is this how it’s going to be?” She whispers, tears flowing from her eyes and she’s genuinely surprised that there’s still some left to cry.
Harry’s heart stops as he watches her break again. He doesn’t want to witness her in that form again, he doesn’t even know if he can; and imagining the pain that must be bursting through her veins is only making this harder for him.
“You’re just going to pretend like everything is okay? While I stand here, practically begging you to say something to me about all this, you just continue to show off how perfectly fine you are?”
“What?” He asks, nearly dumbfounded by her accusations. “No, baby. That’s not—no.“
He doesn’t know exactly where all this came from, considering there isn’t any part of him that’s feeling any sort of sanity. He’s been suffering, too, no matter how much he tries to hide it for her sake. The masking his hurt has been hiding under has been wearing thin over the past couple of weeks, but he couldn’t bring himself to show her how much this affected him.
He was always the one to stay strong for the both of them. No matter what came their way, he was always the one to bottle up all of his emotions and get them through whatever it was bringing them down. He couldn’t break, especially not in front of her. He has to be the one to mend them back together; he doesn’t have a choice, considering he was the one who broke it up in the first place.
“You think I’m fine? You actually think I’m okay with all this? You haven’t even—you haven’t even seen me before last night, and even then I was a wreck. Y/n, how could you even think like that?”
“Look at you!” She yells, eyes widened and teeth clenched as she speaks. Her hands are at her head, pressing at her temples in complete hysteria and despair. “All fucking pretty and perfect! I don’t see anything wrong with you, like there’s nothing gripping at your throat or feeding your insides with the guilt that should be eating you fucking alive right now!”
“And look at me! Just take a goddamn look at me and how fucked up I am! Do you see what the problem is? Do you see how none of this is fair to me? Fuck you and fuck your precious happiness, and fuck your selfish decisions and just fuck you, Harry! Fuck you!”
Her voice is harsh and loud enough to nearly echo from the walls. The cries and whimpers haven’t stopped, either, and there’s a certain type of tension building between them that’s nearly sucking the air from their throats.
But she’s not stopping, not yet. She still has so much to say and nothing is getting in her way, not now.
“How did it feel, Harry?! How did it feel to love on some other woman while your ex-girlfriend was alone and breaking on her bed?! Was it nice?! How did it feel?!”
Harry’s jaw clenches once the words leave her mouth, and his hands are balling to fists at the side of his thighs. He’s frustrated—frustrated because she’s so blinded by her own pain that she hasn’t eve acknowledged his. And the way she’s making it sound—like he doesn’t love her, like he doesn’t care—almost makes him throw up.
As much as he fucked up, he never imagined to be perceived as such a villain. She’s looking down on him, digging into his insecurities and accusing him of being a man he knows he’ll never be capable of being, and he doesn’t like it one bit. As much as he had done wrong, he never found pleasure in her pain and he doesn’t even want to think about how that thought processed through her brain.
“Are you being serious right now? You really need to tell me this isn’t some sort of sick joke.”
Her eyes narrow up at him, and for the first time since he’s seen her, she starts to laugh.
It’s a habit she’s obtained whenever she tries to hold back all the anger boiling inside of her. It’s a rare occasion, considering she never really gets mad, especially at him. But she’s on the edge of complete rage, and she feels it building inside of her.
She still has tears falling from her eyes, and they’re both unsure whether it’s from the laughter, the pain, the anger, or all three of them.
“You think I’m joking? You want to hear a real joke, Harry? You saw me. You saw me at the grocery store, you saw me looking at Jessica wearing our shirt and you didn’t do anything! You did absolutely nothing, you just fucking stood there and watched me fall apart. What kind of twisted shit was that, Harry? Did it make you feel good about yourself? Or was it a nice image to look back on while you fucked Jessica the following night?”
All his frustration subsided when her voice started to crack and shake between her words. Her emotions are scattered, along with his, but he can’t help but feel an aching in his chest when he sees how helpless she looks.
Looking back at it, Y/n gets the same exact feeling she did that morning—betrayed, broken, and completely hated. There is no other explanation for it. He had to have hated her, for whatever reason it may be, it’s the only thing that makes sense.
The Harry that loved her would never leave her to fend for herself. He wasn’t the same man she remembered him being. The kindhearted, selfless, loving man she fell in love with was not the man she came to contact with—standing with a mysterious girl, showing her off in the t-shirt that meant everything to him and Y/n.
He had to have hated her.
“Is that—“ his voice cracks, and he has to swallow the lump building in his throat before he continues to speak, “Is that what you think? That I just watched because I’m heartless?”
She sighs, shaking her head softly. She crosses her arms at her chest, tucking her hands beneath them as her eyes drift away from his.
She never thought he was heartless, but there must have been something he had against her for him to not say anything to her. She deserved an explanation, or even a half-assed apology at the slightest. But she got nothing. All she got silence and heartbreak and everything inside of her knew that she didn’t deserve it.
There had to have been something.
“No, I just—I never felt so hated before. It was like—like you found some sort of comfort in watching me suffer. You never did that, Harry. You never did that to me, not in all the years that I’ve known you and knowing that you didn’t want me anymore was like all the life was sucked out of me all at once.”
She closes her eyes as she sobs, clutching the fabric of her shirt in her hands right where her heart is.
“Just imagine feeling your heart stop beating and your lungs collapsing all at once. I thought you hated me, Harry. Nothing was worse than feeling that, nothing.”
An inhumane sound emits from Harry’s chest—something between a sob and a growl—a sound she’s never heard before and it’s utterly pitiful.
He’s never thought of it in that way. The thought of Y/n thinking he’s hated her never crossed his mind, always just assuming that she was so upset because Jessica crept her way into his life. But the more he thinks about it, all the more it makes sense.
When he saw Dan wearing Harry’s ring, all the hope that Y/n was ever going to love him again was ripped away from him. The feeling of betrayal and heartbreak was so overwhelming because while he was suffering from the loss of her, she was finding comfort in somebody else and nothing brought him more pain than thinking she didn’t love him anymore.
And that’s exactly what he did to her. She was waiting for him—waiting for him to come back and fight for their relationship. She was alone and hurt all throughout the nights while he was finding pleasure in another woman to get him through the pain.
He’s put her through so much that she didn’t deserve, and he doesn’t know how he can live with himself for it.
He whimpers, tentatively reaching out for the hand that’s decorated with his rose ring, and slowly brings her against his chest. She buries her face in his t-shirt as she weeps out the rest of her tears, tugging at the back of his t-shirt in agony.
“No, baby. No. Please don’t ever think that. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say, and everything that I wanted to say was getting so scrambled inside of my brain that I couldn’t even understand what was happening. There were so many things, my love. There were so many things I wanted to say to you but I just couldn’t, and it’ll be something I have to live with for the rest of my life.”
He presses a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her a little tighter in his arms as he brushes out her hair between his fingers.
She feels his tears at the top of her head, but she doesn’t pay any attention to it. All she can wrap her head around is that Harry’s holding her again, shielding her from any other hurting that could get to her. And as much as she does want to push him away, she can’t, because she can finally fucking breathe again.
“And I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for all of this. I could never hate you, my love. I love you so goddamn much, you have to believe me. You don’t deserve this pain, sweetheart. I’ll do whatever it takes to mend you, okay? If you give me the chance, I’ll take the time to fix you. You just have to work with me.”
She nods against his chest, pushing him away from her a little bit so that she can look at him in the eyes. They’re red and soaked with tears, but she’s missed them all too much and they still make her weak in the knees.
“This will be a slow process, do you understand me? There’s a lot of lost trust and a lot of work that needs to be done when it comes to our relationship. I’m not risking this again, so we’re taking this slowly. I’ll stay at Gabby’s for another few weeks until I can fully trust you again. You’re not pulling that shit on me where you call Jessica when you’re lonely, you hear me? You call me. We’re in this together and we’re in this for a long time, but we have to do this my way.”
He nods feverishly, closing his eyes as he does so. His fingers dig into her back as he exhales strongly, almost as if releasing a breath he’s been holding in.
“We’ll go at your pace, sweetheart, I promise.”
She smiles softly—a true, heartwarming smile that Harry swears he could look at for the rest of his life. It somehow mends the ache in his chest and he starts to cry from happiness, this time, and he’s never been so relieved in his life.
“We’re really doing this, huh?” She giggles, running her fingertips along his back. “We’re really starting this all over again?“
He smiles down at her, admiring the woman he’s loved with every bit of his heart. She’s never looked so goddamn perfect, either, in this moment of complete serendipity.
Marichat "don't be fucking rude" prompt (your writing is great btw)
Thank you anon! I am glad you like my writing ^_^ (I should be writing more stories, but I am sniffly and finding doing long form hard so i am taking a break by doing drabbles. Hopefully it will clear my head enough to finish the chapter I wanted to get done today!)
WARNING: Some strong language and suggestive themes! You have been warned.
“What are you staring at?” Marinette cried at last, whirling in her chair to face Chat Noir who was mere inches from her face.
“hold still, I am trying to count your freckles,” he said completely unperturbed by either her close proximity or her glowering expression.
“Have you ever heard of personal space?” she hissed, “Don’t be fucking rude!”
Chat blinked but showed no other sign of being deterred by her wrath. “I can’t count your freckles accurately from across the room, now hold still.”
Marinette groaned but did as he asked, figuring it was easier to just indulge his insanity and get him out of the way then try to argue with him. She had no idea what had lead to Chat Noir’s bizarre visit today, or his sudden unprecedented interest in her life, if his non-stop questions earlier were anything to go by.
“Are you almost done,” she whined, trying not to think about why she was finding his closeness so unsettling.
“Just about,” he grinned, and her heart gave a traitorous little thrill. He really was unfairly pretty.
“You have 27 freckles across your nose,” Chat said leaning in even further until their noses bumped. “And just for the record princess,” he said his voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “I am not fucking rude. When I am fucking I am extremely accommodating,” and before she could move he darted forward, kissed the tip of her nose and hurriedly ran away, laughing.
The next morning Marinette trudged blearily into class. Her night had been restless, in no small part to the flurry of daydreams brought on by Chat’s parting comment. Even her icy cold shower this morning had done little to stop her wandering mind or flushed skin.
“Good morning my bestest best friend who I know far better than Adrien know’s Nino!” Alya crowed as she dropped down into her own seat.
“Are you two still going on about that?” Marinette sighed, dropping her head against the desk and wondering if she could try sleeping through class, or if she ran the risk of subjecting herself to another Chat-infused dream session.
“This is the last day of our epic battle,” Alya said with feigned shock at Marinette’s disinterest. “I am going to 50 Euro richer before class even starts. Where do you want to go for lunch?”
“What if Adrien wins?” Marinette ask, cracking one eye open and looking up at her friend.
“Eh, he gets to pick my next 3 articles on the Ladyblog. But there is no way he is going to win. He would have to get my question right- doubtful- AND I would have to get his wrong, and there is no way Adrien knows anything about you that I don’t already know.”
“OK,” Marinette mumbled. Closing her eyes again.
“Ah the man of the hour and his supposedly hertosexual life mate,” Alya cried.
“We like to keep our love free from the tabloids thank you,” Marinette heard Nino say and Adrien let out a light laugh.
“OK Agreste,” Alya said, “my final question, to see if you know my boyfriend as well as I do-”
“Trick question- Nino didn’t have Ice cream till you took him to get some on your guys second date.”
“Damnit! Still, you haven’t proven that you are the most observant person in this little circle, you still haven’t given me my question. Despite your impressive line of questioning thus far, I defy you to come up with something about Marinette that you know and I don’t.”
Marinette was glad her face was plastered against the side of her desk to hide her flaming face.
“OK,” Adrien said mischievously, “how many freckles does Marinette have across her nose?”
Marinette’s eye shot open.
“You don’t know the answer to that,” Alya said warily.
“Just answer the question,” Adrien said smugly, “or do you admit defeat?”
“19,” Alya said nervously.
“Wrong, 27. Looks like I win.”
Whatever response Alya was about to give was cut off by Marinette’s loud, piercing scream.
It was a lazy Sunday morning, you woke up to an empty bed and the smell of bacon lingering in the air.
You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you noticed the small yet visible indent on the right side of the bed, meaning your boyfriend had just gotten out of bed not too long ago.
You sat up and stretched your arms, a soft groan left your lips as you felt your muscles contract and wake your body up. Lazily, you plopped out of bed pulling the shoulder of Tom’s T-shirt you were wearing up. Sleeping in his large T-shirts was one of your favorite things to do but due to their size you always woke up a bit more exposed than necessary.
You trudged out of your shared bedroom as you followed the smell of the bacon and smiled as you saw two plates full of food on a tray with two glasses of orange juice and a single rose from your backyard bush. You then realized Tom was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed and rolled your eyes at your cheesy boyfriend but that didn’t stop your heart from swooning and your smile from spreading.
You heard a flush and the door knob to the bathroom in the hallway start to jingle so you quickly and quietly rushed back into your bedroom so you wouldn’t spoil Tom’s surprise. Just as you pulled the covers over you the door creaked open and in tip toed your boyfriend trying to balance the tray while holding the rose in between his teeth. You tried your best to act asleep and thankfully, he bought it.
You felt the bed indent next to you and then a sweet and gentle kiss to your temple as your boyfriend whispered “darling get up” followed by another kiss to your forehead.
You, playing the part, just slightly groaned acting as if you were still asleep. You heard Tom’s throaty chuckle as he started peppering your face in kisses resulting in you giggling and pushing against his naked chest.
“I’m up I’m up I’m up” you laughed as he pulled away giving you a satisfied grin.
“That doesn’t mean you could stop..” you teased as he gave you a raised eyebrow and obliged by leaning back down to pepper your face and neck in more kisses.
His soft lips brushing against your neck made you you laugh as it tickled, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up until he finally pulled away, the both of you laughing. He gave you one final kiss on the lips and you appreciatively smiled as he turned towards the two plates of food laying next to you.
“I see you got busy this morning.” You said giggling as he picked up a strawberry and dangled it over your mouth.
“Only the best for my love.” He stated, pride and admiration evident in his voice.
You lifted your head and bit into the strawberry, its sweet juices filling your mouth and dripping down your chin causing Tom to chuckle and swipe his thumb across your chin and lips lifting it to his mouth, sucking the excess juice.
The tension in the air increased as neither of you said a word, just fed each other your breakfast in comfortable silence. You finished up the meal, Tom got up and gathered the plates taking the dirty dishes to the sink. You laid back down waiting for your boyfriend to return, playing with the hem of his oversized t shirt you were wearing. He entered with a smug smile tugging at his lips as he went to the foot of the bed and connected his phone to the blue tooth speaker.
You couldn’t help but admire his toned chest and the way his curls fell over his eyes messily. You loved the crease in between his brows, meaning he was deep in concentration and the strong prominent curve of his jawline. Your eyes trailed down to his Calvin Klein’s peeking out from underneath his grey sweats, hanging loosely and low on his hips. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself to remind you he was real, and he was yours.
“What are you doing?” You asked quirking an eyebrow up, getting a smile in response.
Suddenly “Into It” but Chase Atlantic filled the room as Tom smirked and set his phone down on the counter, crawling up on top of you slowly, holding his body weight on his arms as he looked down at you.
“Quite interesting song choice there mister” you quipped, Tom just chuckling in response before he leans down and kisses you full on the mouth.
“I thought it fit the mood quite nicely.” He responded pulling away, a smug and proud smile spreading across his face.
“Oh?” your brows furrowed together. “And what exactly is the mood sir?” You asked innocently.
This time you didn’t even get a response. Tom lifted a hand to your cheek, caressing it down to your neck slowly and bent down lingering his lips across yours,
“The one where I get to eat my second most important meal of the day.” He muttered before cupping your face with the same hand and sliding his thumb to your jaw turning your head to leave soft and lingering open mouth kisses along your neck.
His lips brushed your collarbone and you shuttered, goosebumps appearing making Tom smirk against your skin. Tom slid his hand from your neck down to the curves of your body, giving each one extra love and attention, until he reached your thigh.
He gave your left thigh a squeeze, picking it up abruptly causing you to involuntarily squeal and placed it around his waist giving him more leverage in between your legs. Tom’s hands started caressing your body once again, this time starting from your thighs sliding their way up, only stopping to glide his t shirt up off your body kissing a trail up the new exposed skin.
He dropped his T-shirt you were wearing on the floor next to him. You were bare in front of him, the only piece of fabric you adorned were your light blue boxer shorts, although you wouldn’t for long. Tom stood on his knees, drinking in your body. No matter how many times he had the privilege of touching and marking it, your body was his paradise and he planned on getting lost in it every chance he could.
Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, his eyes met yours asking for consent and you hastily nodded in approval. Without hesitation he slid the last piece of fabric off of you, flinging them behind him without a care where they landed.
By the look in his eye and his body language, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving the bed all afternoon. You may have had breakfast, but you were both starving and planned on feasting all day.
“My mom wants me to become more involved at the school,” you sighed, walking with Taehyung to P.E.
The last few days your mom had been hinting that she wanted you to become involved, “like your brother”. You’d done your best to act clueless in order to get her to drop the subject, but she’d finally confronted you and outright told you that she wanted you to become more involved.
Summary: You have real feelings for your costar, but you’re afraid that people might call you unprofessional. You decide to ask Cole himself what he thinks about the situation, and his answer is not what you were expecting.
Warnings: smut, not hardcore but still smut, a little cussing, cute Cole, being in love with Cole
Requested by anon:
“I know you already had a request for Cole smut but I’m so thirsty for it, help your girl out??”
“lordchild I know I know Cole is “bad” but THAT SCENE was so god damn hot, I know you’re writing Ross smut next but you’re so good at smut, please write Cole/jughead smut? Please boo?”
His smile is what drove you to do what you do every day. His soft laugh would fill up a room with so much joy, you couldn’t stop from smiling yourself. His eyes would twinkle in the light when he would think of a terrible joke that would be so bad that everyone couldn’t help but laugh.
But nevertheless, he could never truly be yours. He was your costar, Cole Sprouse. It would be incredibly unprofessional to admit to anyone your feelings. Even if you did, they would say it wasn’t real that it was just your mind’s habit.
You and Cole work together in very intimate ways this season on Riverdale. The previous season’s ship, Bughead, had sunk due to several reasons and your character and Jughead had begun to have a very casual relationship.
It was hard for you going from kissing him to pretending you were just friends. But, maybe they were right. Maybe, it was just your mind connecting kissing to real feelings. Or they could be completely wrong, this wasn’t your first rodeo after all and you never felt this way with any of the other actors you had to be in an on-screen relationship with.
You never had butterflies in your stomach when they looked you directly in the eyes, or when they pulled you close while taking pictures at a convention. They never made fireworks explode under your skin when they dragged their fingers along your arm. You couldn’t hold in your feelings for much longer. You were itching to tell someone, and who better to tell than the person who makes you feel this way.
Sitting in your trailer, you decided it was time to ask him yourself and get his opinion on the matter. You grabbed your jacket and walked across the lot to find his trailer, texting him to tell him you were on your way over. Lili was the only other cast member on set today and she was filming currently, so there wouldn’t be any distractions.
As you opened the trailer door, you took a deep breath and steadied your racing heartbeat. Cole was sitting on the small couch in the corner of the room, scrolling through his phone. He looked up with a large smile that reached his eyes, and it just solidified your feelings.
You took a seat beside him and started to make small talk, you weren’t just going to jump into this. You had to build up to it to make sure not to make it awkward.
“Cole, you know my friend, Blair, right?” You fidgeted around nervously, wanting this to go over smoothly.
“The one with brown hair, right?” He questioned with his eyebrows scrunching up.
You nodded in response before continuing, “She came to me last night in distress. She’s currently working on the second season of her show,” you paused to look over at him. He had a focused look on his face like he usually did when you told a story. “Well, like I said she came over to my house last night so confused. She rambled on forever before she finally told me what was bothering her.”
You were about to continue before Cole interrupted, “With Blair? I’ve met her like twice, but from those encounters, I could probably guess it was about one of her shoes braking.” He chuckled and you joined him because it sounded just like her.
“Close guess,” You laughed and he smiled back, “But not quite. It was actually some boy trouble. Yeah, she has completely fallen in love, or so she thinks, with her costar.”
Cole nodded in response, “Well, has she told him about said feelings?”
“No, she is afraid that he won’t take her seriously since they have an on-screen relationship.” You paused to get his input.
“Why would she think this? How does she think he will handle the situation?” Cole leaned back against the couch.
“Well, since they have romance on-screen, she is afraid that he will say that it’s just her mind trying to comprehend kissing someone that she didn’t have feelings before they started to do intimate things.”
“Well, if I remember correctly, this isn’t her first on-screen romance, is it?” Cole questioned while holding eye contact.
“No, you’re right. I brought up the same point to her, but she insists that this time is different, that the way he makes her feel is really real.” You turned completely around and leaned your back against the side of the small couch.
“Really? What did she say about him?” He inquired.
“She said that the way he makes her feel when he places his hands on her body is like nothing she had ever felt before. That even when he says her name, that sparks fly in a way no one has ever been able to make her feel before.” You confessed. You felt as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Telling Cole how you really feel about him, even if you’re using Blair as a coverup, makes you feel like you can finally move on.
“I think that she should tell him, just confess it all. Put herself out there. So what if people might think it’s unprofessional? Being in a real relationship with your coworker is frowned upon by the majority of people, but fuck them. Look at Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth or Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher, no one is saying shit now that they are happily married and in love.”
That was not the answer you were looking for. You were hoping that he would say that it was just mind games, that she should wait it out. You were second guessing everything you thought you wanted to do. Should you listen to his advice for Blair? After all, that might not be what he wants for himself, what if it’s just what he would want to see. Your thoughts were interrupted when Cole started to talk again.
“And when did you say she came over?” He had a mischievous look in his eyes, but you wrote it off as him enjoying the drama.
“Last night, after I left set, she came over almost immediately. I was so drained from a long day at set that I couldn’t give her a proper answer, so that’s why I’m asking you.”
“Really? Because last night Lili said you spent the night at her house because you were too tired to drive?” Cole looked like he was enjoying this, but you were sure that you had a look of horror on your face.
“Did I say last night?” You chuckled, “I meant sometime last week.” You tried to play it cool but Cole wasn’t buying it at all.
Cole scooted closer to you and brought his hand to your cheek and you leaned into it without thinking about it, “C’mon, admit it. Admit that I give you that rush.”
You were still unsure on how you wanted to handle the situation, so you denied it, “I just got the time mixed up.”
“Then tell me to stop,” Cole said as he leaned slowly into you, “If you weren’t using Blair as a cover up and you feel nothing right now, tell me to stop and I will.”
You were completely frozen, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Coming to set today, you were expecting the opposite of this. You didn’t know what you should do, but you knew you did not want to move from this spot.
Cole’s lips connected to yours and it was more than you could ever dream of. His lips felt soft against yours, and the kiss was tender and kind. Cole pulled away after a minute, but you left your eyes closed.
“Please, Cole,” You mumbled, not really knowing what you were saying.
Cole placed his lips back on yours, answering your plea. This kiss was different than the first, it had more urgency behind it, but it was just as sweet.
Cole placed his hand in the crook of your neck and pulled you close to him. You placed your legs on either side of his waist without breaking your lips from his. You wrapped your fingers in his dyed hair and tugged slightly.
As things started to heat up, you pulled his shirt over his head. You peppered kisses down his neck and on his chest. He leaned his head back against the couch and let out a sigh, trying to catch his breath.
You started to tug on his belt, but Cole placed his hands on top of yours and looked into your eyes, “Are you sure you want to? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
You felt so giddy, looking into his eyes, that question just confirmed your feelings for him. “Yes. Take me, I’m yours.”
Cole smiled back at you while taking your top off. He pulled you down so he could kiss your neck while one hand massaged your boob through your bra, making you moan his name.
You brought your lips back to his while you unbuckled his belt and tugged on his pants. He lifted his lower half to pull his pants down to his ankles and he took his boxers with it.
“You’re wearing too much clothing for my liking.” Cole joked which made you chuckle as you stood up to take your shorts off.
“You’re beautiful, Princess, come here.” He said in a deep voice. You did as you were told and took your seat on his lap. You connected your lips again and you felt your heart melt when his tongue entered your mouth.
Without taking his lips off yours, he signaled for you to rise so he could line up with your core. You slowly lowered on to him, and let out a deep moan. Cole closed his eyes and opened his mouth like he was going to grunt, but no noise came out.
You adjusted to his size before you started to move slowly up and down. Cole helped guide you with his hands on your hips. You continued the slow pace as Cole whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
“Fuck, gorgeous, you look so good from this angle.” You grunted in response before a knot started to build in the pit of your stomach, and you started to move faster.
Cole grunted under you at the change of pace and started to meet your bounces with his thrusts, and soon you were clouded with pleasure. You swore you were seeing stars as you started to go a little bit faster.
“Cole, fuck, please,” You mumbled barely able to form a coherent sentence.
“Are you close, princess?” Cole grunted between two moans, signaling he was feeling as much pleasure as you were.
“Yes, fuck.” You leaned your head back and closed your eyes before you felt Cole’s hand bringing your face close to his.
“Come for me.” With those words, he sent you over the edge and your toes curled as he continued to thrust up into your convulsing body.
Your orgasm sent Cole into his bliss. He was mumbling word fragments as a sense of euphoria took over. You bounced slightly to let him ride out his pleasure.
You both were sweaty, panting messes and you climbed off him and felt an emptiness as you took a seat next to him.
“Blair wasn’t having boy trouble, it was me.”
He let out a laugh that made you chuckle as well, “I’m not going to say I told you so, but I knew it.”
a/n: I’m back and I finally finished this miniseries! Sorry for not uploading for a while, its summer break and all I want to do is nothing lol. Tell me what you think about this or any of my other writings in my inbox! Also, requests are open, but by popular demand, part two for “Bet” will be next!
I knew I felt something more than the friendship we cultivated when I found myself hoping I could change your mind. You never said you were loyal and you never acted like you were, and I tried to fool myself into thinking that was a part of you I could accept. But when I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands on me, when my chest tightened like breath before a first kiss when I heard your sudden laugh that sounded almost too sweet to fit you, when I didn’t care who the hell responded to my texts when if it wasn’t you, when I heard your voice in songs about loving someone who was out of reach, I knew something had happened I couldn’t exactly reconcile. Something I didn’t exactly want to. I would’ve never thought you’d be a constant presence in my lungs when I first met you, never imagined I’d want to breathe in the scent of you more than I would my own home. You are everything I want disguised in everything I never saw coming. If you would give me the chance, I’d drop everyone else I act like I care about to distract myself from the fact that I want you. I want your corny jokes, your subtle arrogance, the way you I catch you looking at me when you don’t think I see you. I want you to tell me all of the shit you’ve never felt comfortable telling anyone else, and I want the chance to give you the world even if you may fill up the majority of mine. And hell, maybe I am possessive and feel too strongly too quickly. Maybe I dive in without looking at how deep the water really is and maybe I make desperate decisions in pursuit of the warmth of your gaze. Maybe I romanticize your brutal honesty and am hoping for something you can’t give me but there are no lies on my tongue when I tell you I don’t want you to want anyone else. You are as sudden as a summer storm and as mysterious as the shadows that come afterwards, but you need to only say the word and I’ll get myself drenched in order to stand in the rain with you.
ap (8.17.17) there’s something reckless about you and I have a habit of taking chances
could i request a peter and reader where the reader is a shy painter and secretly has a crush on peter so everyday she draws pictures in a sketchbook for him. one day she loses it and peter finds it and realizes her feelings
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Description: You were the shy person at school, nobody really noticed you, which was the whole objective. However, you did have a huge crush on the one and only Peter Parker. You spent a good portion of your time drawing him or painting him in your sketchbook, but one day it goes missing, putting you in a panic to find it before he did.
Warnings: None, it’s just really cute and sweet.
Word Count: 1,857
A/N: So this is just really dorky and sweet and ugh I just wish Peter Parker was real!!!!
Like every normal school day, you walked in, nobody really paid attention to you, which you mentally were thankful for, thus leaving you to doing what you did best, drawing.
But who you were drawing was another story, you drew your one and only crush Peter Parker, he’d be standing by his locker sometimes, or walking with his best friend Ned, no matter where he went, you still managed to draw him.
Today, he was standing in the middle of the hallway, staring off at his one and only crush Liz.
You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealously, you wished deep down he’d look at you like that, but you knew there would never be a chance in the world, mainly since he didn’t know you existed.
So you would watch in sadness as his heart chased another girl, wishing it was you he was chasing after.
The bell would then ring, signaling you to get to class before you were late, and that’s exactly what you did, just like every other day.
You’d sit down at your table, Peter and Ned walking in a few minutes before the late bell would ring, taking their seats and then the teacher would start the lesson, except today was different.
You’d normally draw during class, but today you couldn’t, mainly because the teacher had assigned a group project, and you were the lucky winner to be in a group with none other than Peter and Ned.
Your eyes widened in fear, hearing your name being called as the teacher announced the groups, you could see Peter and Ned look behind them at you.
They both turned around, pulling their chairs up to your desk, making you visibly shake, this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.
“Hey Y/N right?” Ned smiled, making you blink a few times before nodding.
“You’re not much of a talker are you?” Peter smiled, making your eyes widened a bit, you were mentally hitting yourself as you once again nodded in response.
“Well, we should probably get started.” Ned laughed, beginning to work on the project, but Peter was too focused on you, he couldn’t figure you out, he could tell there was a part of you that nobody knew, but he didn’t know why.
“Peter, stop staring man, it’s creepy.” Ned nudged Peter’s elbow, making his cheeks tint red from embarrassment for being caught staring.
You on the other hand, were more focused on the project rather than anything, but you felt your heart beat a bit quicker when you heard the words leave Ned’s mouth.
Peter had been staring at you, but the question was why? You didn’t think you were giving off any hints that you liked him, you were praying that you weren’t anyways.
“This is an in class assignment, we’ll be working on this for the rest of the week, so make sure you come to class.” The teacher added, walking around the room to observe everyone’s work so far.
The teacher came around to your group, peering over your shoulders along with Peter’s and Ned’s. You always hated when they did something like that, it felt so awkward and uncomfortable, you never knew what you could do or not do with them so close.
You felt a tap on your shoulder, making you glance up at the teacher who’s eyes moved towards your sketchbook, making your face heat up instantly.
“Y/N, I’ve told you many times I don’t want to see this in my classroom.” The teacher scolded, making your heart beat quickly.
“I-I know, I-I’m sorry..” You mumbled, reaching for the sketchbook, but the teacher stopped you, placing their hand on it.
“I think I’m just going to confiscate it for today, come back for it at the end of school.” The teacher gave a small smile, making your eyes widen with fear.
If they looked through it, you would be so screwed, they would know all your darkest secrets, and that you liked Peter.
“Damn man, that sucks.” Ned muttered, watching the teacher walk away with your sketchbook.
“I didn’t know you could draw, you should show me sometime.” Peter smiled, trying to engage you in a conversation.
“Y-Yeah, maybe?” You mumbled more in a questioning way, making Peter’s eyes light up a bit.
“You seem pretty tense though, what’s in there anyways?” Ned questioned, making you freeze for a split second, your eyes flickering to Peter then to Ned.
“Uhm.. Uh.. N-Nothing..” You shrugged, continuing to write down answers on the paper in front of you.
Ned looked at you curiously, then at Peter who was also suspicious.
The bell eventually rang, making you let out a sigh of relief, the class felt like eternity for you.
You grabbed your belongings, rushing out the room to your next class, you needed this day to be over, you needed your sketchbook back.
“Dude what is Y/N hiding, it’s all I can think about!” Ned shouted, making Peter chuckle and shrug at his best friend.
“Whatever it is, she doesn’t want anyone to know.” Peter grinned, grabbing ahold of his backpack straps.
The day went on and finally the last bell rang, meaning you could get your sketchbook back and feel safe once again.
“Hi, I’m here for my sketchbook.” You smiled nervously, looking at the teacher who rolled their eyes slightly.
“That’s strange, I could have sworn I put it right here..” The teacher mumbled, pushing stuff around in their drawers.
“Y/N, I promise I put it some place safe, but it’s not here anymore.” The teacher looked at you guiltily as they saw your face pale.
“I need to find it.” You spoke quietly, before rushing out of the room to check lost and found.
You shoved all the items around, none of them being your sketchbook, your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your throat.
Where was it? Who took it? Who’s seen it?
You quickly went to go look in the hallways, turning the corner quickly, but enough to bump right into someone.
“Ow.” You mumbled, glancing at you who had ran into, it happened to be Peter, who was also holding your sketchbook.
Your eyes widened as your eyes flickered to the book, then back to him, who was as equally surprised.
“I-I can e-explain.” You stammered, your face flushing with embarrassment.
“Y/N, these are so good, I didn’t know you could draw so well.” Peter spoke up before you, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Especially the ones of me.” He added, a small smile forming on his lips.
“Y-You don’t t-think it’s w-weird?” You whispered, a small smile beginning to form on your lips also.
“No, in fact I really like them.” He smiled, skimming through your sketchbook again, he was amazed when he found it, and even more surprised when he looked at all your drawings.
He knew he shouldn’t have snooped, but he couldn’t help himself, but he was glad he did, because the more he looked at your drawings, the more his feelings grew for you.
“I uh.. I drew them for you..” You smiled, making his eyes widen, a grin spreading across his face.
“Really? You didn’t have to do that Y/N.” He smiled, walking closer to you, making your heart once again beat faster.
“I-I was going to give them to you..” You admitted, looking down at the floor, but you felt his fingers tilt your chin up so you were looking into his eyes.
“Thank you.” He smiled, kissing your cheek, surprising not only you but himself too.
“If y-you couldn’t tell, I-I really l-like you..” You mumbled, laughing quietly, making his heart melt.
He loved your laugh, it was like music to his ears.
“If it helps at all, I like you too Y/N, a lot.” He smiled, making your cheeks red, he liked you, Peter Parker liked you, not Liz, you.
“Now since we have that settled, why don’t you teach me some tricks, I want to draw you too.” Peter grinned, making you laugh once again.
“Alright Parker, lets see what you got.” You shot back, surprising yourself at how forward you were, making him laugh at your reaction as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
“I’m going to nail it.” Peter joked, making you roll your eyes playfully.
“We’ll see.” You smiled, as Peter handed you back your sketchbook.
“No, you keep it.” You laughed, placing the sketchbook back into his hand, as he watched you in confusion.
“I drew them for you, didn’t I?” You smiled, making his heart melt once again, he was so thankful Ned had talked him into looking at your sketchbook, if he hadn’t none of this would have happened, and in that moment he realized he would be lost without you.
♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.
You were over at Taehyung’s, on the couch with him and Jimin watching a movie. Sadly, you weren’t paying too much attention to it because tomorrow you were trying out for a seniors dance showcase. It was a big deal for seniors, it was what they worked for all four years. This would be what they would perform for tons of people and entertainment scouters. Your school was known for helping dancers get jobs after this showcase at the end of the year.
Warnings: SMUT. Angry sex, hair pulling, spankings, slight Daddy kink, choking, Russian, name calling. I think that’s all. Steve is done with you and Bucky’s shit. You highkey hate Bucky but lowkey have the hots for him.
Summary:Based off of THIS MASTERPIECE. Word Count: 1,474 Warnings: None. A/N: THANK YOU CASS for giving me this idea! HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY. It’s 7am and I was about to go to sleep but y’all bet your sweet asses that I powered up my computer to write this. ENJOY. Also listen to this, because feels feels feels.
It had been quite an adventurous day for you and Grayson. It had started with you both waking up before the sun was even up, finding Ethan awake and alert in the kitchen - which had made you laugh. You had then decided on ordering some breakfast to go so you could drive to the beach, sitting on the sand while the sky turned orange as the sun peeked from the horizon. It was a peaceful moment, until the boys had decided that swimming in the freezing cold ocean was a good idea; Gray slinging you over your back, ignoring your protests as he rushed toward the sea, Ethan in town.
Then you had helped the guys with filming a new video, which consisted of them just tasing each other and acting like two children. It had made you laugh and you all had to shoot different takes, which took a while.
It wasn’t until midnight when Ethan had left you two alone, yawning like a little lion cub and complaining about being tired. You had shared a secretive smile with Grayson, knowing that he’d just shut himself inside his room and edit until the wee hours of the morning. But you kissed him on the cheek as goodnight, waving as he disappeared down the hallway to his room.
“I’m going to hear this damn outro in my nightmares tonight.”
Tearing yourself away from the imaginary world your favorite book had engulfed you in, you mumbled a knowing and sarcastic, ‘mhmm’ as you glanced up. Grayson was sitting in front of his iMac with his head tilted back and hands rubbing his face in exhaustion as he obnoxiously yelled, ‘BUM-BUM, BUM-BUM’ to the tune of the classic outro music playing back through the speakers. To be honest, watching the boys edit as much as you have, on top of actually watching their videos once they were posted, you were beginning to be haunted by the music yourself.
“Someone needs a break,” you muttered in a sing song voice, flipping another page of the book you were using to occupy yourself while your boyfriend continued to edit.
According to Grayson, this particular video needed extra attention and, like the perfectionist he was, he constantly paused to give that attention to the smallest of details. Any other video of the same length would take less than half the time to put together, but both Grayson and Ethan wanted this one to be special and as close to perfect as they could get. His eyes had been focused on the massive desktop screen for hours, only looking away to take one bathroom break, throw a comment your way, or to get your opinion on the sequence he was piecing together. Your responses of, ‘holy shit Gray’ or ‘that was so beautiful’ were always followed bygrunts of indecisiveness or sighs of thoughts filled with ways to change what he had just shown you.
The creaking of the desk chair broke your steady reading pace, only to find Grayson dragging his feet towards the couch you were laying on perpendicular to the editing station. He carefully lifted your stretched out legs, draping them across his lap after plopping down on the cushion next to you. He rested his head on the back of the couch with a sigh and closed his eyes while keeping a loving, firm grip on the knee and shin of your leg closest to his chest.
Could you do a got7 reaction like the BTS reaction of you refusing sex?
Of course, Lets start with a little back story.
There was something comforting about going rehearsals with him, a sense of comfort in knowing that those he works with know you exist and that you belong to him, just like he belongs to you. But this was the first time he had asked you to go with him to a live show to watch. Usually, he liked to keep his business life and personal life as far away from one another as possible, not because he was ashamed, but just because he wanted to save you from all the pressure media put on idols who are dating.
You were so excited to go with him, and he was so excited to have you there, to show you exactly what its like for him. You spent all morning stuck to one another, his hand never leaving its secure place on your hip. Even when the other members excitedly bounced over to say hello and give you a sweet hug he was still there, making sure to pull you back. The two of you would laugh as he was put into wardrobe for the show, nd he would blush when you told him how good he looked. There was even a moment where he when he walked over to you, half way through going over what would be done and talked about during the show, just to plant a deep kiss on your lips because ‘you just look so cute.’
You sat by him during hair and make up, you knew these girls didnt like you. You were honestly expecting them not to. The thought of them with their hands all over the hair your tug at when hes pleasuring you and the lips you kiss when your feeling down sent a wave of jealousy through your stomach. It didnt matter though, you knew that, for the entire time he sat there his hand was on your knee, and his eye kept opening so he could look at you.
It was when he was getting the final touches on his make up done that your silly jealousy took a pang. The make up girl told him to look at her, which fine, she needs to make sure everything is even. But when she tilted his chin up with the tip of her pinky and blushed you wouldn’t help the feeling in your stomach.
‘Ive always thought you have the prettiest smile.’ She said stroking a brush along his bottom lip gently, making him smile.
‘Good, I always thought I was the best looking one out of this group.’ He joked. You would have laughed, but his hand left your knee and folded with his own in his lap. The artist looked at you, a smug look in her eyes that made the back of your neck tingle.
‘That feels really good.’ His voice brought you back to look at him. His comment was far from appropriate so why he decided to say it floored you.
‘Of course it does! I know how much you like this part.’ She said making him smile again.
You watched as she continued to apply the numeral pink to his lips. She could have stopped four seconds ago and it would have been perfect, but she had to keep going until their was a light shine on his bottom lip.
‘Whoops, too shiny let me fix that.’ She said bending closer to his mouth. She puckered her lips and blew gently, as if that was going to solve the problem.
You looked forward as she smiled triumphantly, the noise he had made making the smug look in her eyes grow darker. Crossing your arms you turned to face the mirror in front of you and you couldn’t help but catch the eye of another member who had witnessed the whole thing. Seeing that you stood and left the dressing room, not caring that your boyfriend was calling after you.
Not having any way to get home you just took your seat and waited. You tried to smile and laugh when they finally made their way onto the stage but there was no hiding the fact that you were hurt. If he was doing that around you what was he doing when you weren’t? Thinking only made you madder and seeing him staring at you with worried eyes only made you fuming.
In the car afterwards you tried not to sit next to him but he made people shift so he could. He tried to place his hand on you knee but you moved away. He tried to kiss you cheek but you pushed his chest. All you wanted to do was cry.
Getting back to your shared apartment you ignored him, even though he was talking like nothing was wrong. He wold have finally stopped when you walked into the bathroom and slammed the door, taking your clothes of angrily before stepping into the hot shower you had started for yourself…
You slamming the door would make his mind race. What had happened that you were now slamming doors? When you got out of the shower he watched you B-line it into your shared room. The sight of your bare back with pearls of water still holding to your skin made him smile, he loved your back. He’d stand and make his way over to you, licking his lips in the process before he was right behind you. You knew he was there but you had nothing to say to him, so ignoring him was your best option. That was until you felt his lips start on your shoulder and move up your neck. You stepped forward, continuing to ignore him as you reached for a set of comfy clothes. ‘Baby.’ he’d say wrapping his arms around your shoulders to try again. The thought of his lips made you sick, so you pushed him off of you. ‘Leave me alone.’ you said taking the clothes and heading back towards the bathroom. ‘Jagi, whats wrong?’ He’d say, his voice giving away the concern that erupted though his stomach. ‘I said leave me alone.’ You spat. You were just about to slam the door again when he caught it and followed you into the bathroom. ‘Tell me what is wrong.’ He said with stern eyes as you angrily pulled the shirt you grabbed over your head, scoffing when you realized it was his. ‘That shit that you pulled? That was embarrassing. How dare you let shit like that happen especially when I’m sitting right there next to you.’ You said, tears welling in your eyes.
‘Y/n, what are you talking about!’ He said trying to reach out for you again only to have you pull away. ‘Really? Are you that stupid that you didnt even realize that whats her face was all over you! Blowing on your fucking mouth, are you kidding me!’ You said, your loud voice now echoing off of the walls. ‘She was practically rubbing it in my face.’ You added, this time a bit quieter. He rubbed the back of his neck before rubbing his face and trying to pull you in one more time. This time you let him, you hated it when he looked upset. ‘Im so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.’ He said wrapping his arms around you tightly. ‘I can’t handle that kind of things. And if thats happening when I’m sitting right next to you? What happening when I’m not.’ You said, tears now falling.
‘Im so sorry. Nothing. Nothing is happening. Please, Jagi.’
He was your sense of comfort so as you cried you couldn’t help your hands that had wondered up to hold on to his back. Seeing how upset this had made you ruined him, he never wanted to see you cry and the fact that he was the one who made you broke his heart. He’d hold onto you as long as he needed too and although he knew you handnt fully forgave him, it wouldn’t stop him from making it very known that the behavior that had happened was uncalled for and would never happen again.
Mark would never do anything he thought would hurt you in any way. All he wanted was to be the best version of himself just for you. So when you started acting cold towards him his mind would race. He wouldn’t be able to focus during the show, talking less then he already did and when questions were sent his way he was having trouble answering them. When you stormed into the bathroom he figured maybe you just forgot to but deodorant on? He knew how weird you got when you thought you smelt so He’d leave you be, settling himself on the couch and turning the tv on. When you walked out with wet messy hair and in your pajamas he figured you were just tired, but he knew you were never to tired for him. He’d try anything to make you feel good. He stood, corning you in the kitchen before dipping his head down in attempt to kiss you. When you turned your head so he caught cheek his eyebrows would push together, you never turned down a kiss from him. He’d catch your chin and make you look at him, trying to bring his lips to yours again only to have you push his chest hard do he stumbled back away from you. ‘Don’t touch me.’ You said shooting daggers at him before picking up the drink you had poured and walking past him. You only made it half way to your bedroom before his hand caught your elbow. He spun you causing the drink to spill slightly and you to cuss. ‘What part of don’t touch me did you not understand!’ You yelled, trying to fight the lurch you heart gave when his eyes turned from confused to hurt.
‘What wrong?’ He’d ask in a small voice.
‘Whats wrong? Whats wrong is that my boyfriend Someone who is supposed to love me drops me in the blink of an eye when someone else is flirting with them. And the best part? He doesn’t even try to stop it.’ You yelled, pointing a finger at him so he knew exactly who you were talking about. His shoulders would slump and he’d take his bottom lip between his lips. ‘Jagi I-’
‘Dont Jagi I me. I saw what happened. I was there.’ You said turning to leave again. His hand reached for yours again and pulled you back around but this time when he turned you he saw just how hurt you were. ‘Please, I didnt mean it. I didnt think.’ He said trying to pull you into a hug. ‘Mark, stop.’ You said taking in a shaky breath. The hurt in his eyes made your heart turn over and you knew he meant it, you just weren’t ready to forgive him. ‘Im so sorry.’ was all he could whisper as he let you walk away again.
He knew you too well. The moment you were wrapped up in your blankets, tears slowing down and the need for him to hold you over powering you he was already in the room. He’d muster out a small ‘Jagi?’ Seeing if you were willing to talk to him and when you let your head poke up from the covers he’d rush over to you, making you scoot onto his side of the bed so he could slip under the covers in front of you and pull you into his chest. This brought a new wave of tears as you fisted the fabric of his shirt and cried. ‘I love you so much, I’m so sorry.’ you cried. He stroked your hair and made soft shushing noises to break up the sad ‘I love you’s’ he was whispering back to you.
Being completely oblivious of what had happened he’d be all over you the moment you stepped out of the shower. His hand would reach out for your towel and tug at it, laughing playfully as you tugged away from him and continued your way towards the bedroom. He’d then wrap his arms around you and continue to walk you forward, kissing your bare shoulder as the two of you went.
‘I swear to God, Jackson. Get off of me.’ You said shaking your shoulder hard, not caring as it ran gently into his chin.
‘y/n?’ He said, he would have thought you were just kidding and would have jumped right back into playing around, but the fact the you didnt apologize for hitting him in the face set his alarms off. You ignored him, and not caring if he was still standing there watching you, you stripped. Replacing the towel with your pajamas you climbed into bed and pulled the covers up, biting your lip as your eyes began to water. Jackson would call your name again and soon the feeling of the bed dipping down around you told you that he was sitting next to you. ‘I said leave me alone, Jackson.’ Your voice failed, giving off the fact that you were now crying.
‘Jagi, whats wrong? Hey, hey!’ He’d say softly, pulling at your arms till you were sitting up with your face in his chest.
‘Don’t touch me!’ You yelled hitting his chest, but as you tried to pull your arms out of his grip he just held on tighter, not letting you go.
‘Talk to me, why are you mad!’
‘You!” You screamed, finally getting him to let you go. ‘You sit there and humiliate me letting that… that bimbo actively flirt with you! She knew exactly what she was doing and stared at me while she did it! Obviously knowing that you weren’t going to do shit! You-’ He cut you off by pulling you into his chest, tears stinging his eyes as he realized what he had done and how much he had actually hurt you.
All he could do was say he was sorry as he buried his face into your neck, holding onto you tightly. His sorries would be staggered with a string of ‘please don’t leave me, please ill change.’ It would shock him how much this actually bothered him. You half expected him to laugh at your tears and tell you you were dumb, but how upset he had gotten only told you how much he loved you. You’d surprise him when you wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers gently playing with his hair as you silently cried realizing how rude you were being.
‘please don’t give me a reason to think you don’t love me.’ would be all you said before letting him kiss you sweetly.
Conversations from earlier in the day would sent him in a certain mood and while you showered it’d be all he could think about. He’d have trouble containing himself as he waited for the water to turn off and as soon as it did he was outside the bathroom door to wait for you. He’d smirk as you opened the door and looked up to him before walking right past to the bedroom. He followed you, watching the way your hips swayed under the towel and how your wet hair left streams of water down your bare back. You’d have walked up to the bed where your usual sleeping shirt was laying, not even realizing Jinyoung was standing behind you until his hands were running up your bare arms. You ignored him while reaching forward to slip the shirt over your body before stepping just out of his reach to slip on a pair of shorts. He’d step to you and take your cheeks between his hands before trying to lean down to kiss you. When you pulled your face from his hands he’d look at you with upset and confused eyes, confused as to why you were acting like this when not even three hours ago you were whispering things to one another. ‘Are we not going to do this?’ He’d ask, the throbbing in his pants subsiding as he thought about your buzz kill mood.
‘No, Jinyoung. Were not ‘doing this’.’ You said scoffing at him before walking back into the bathroom. He’d roll his eyes and turned around, readying himself for bed. Lights out and laying as far from him as possible you started to cry. He didnt care, if he did he would have figured out that you were mad at him by then. You’d sniffle once as his arm lazily found its way around your neck like it did every night, but still nothing. You’d take his arm off of you, removing yourself from the comfort of your blanket. He’d watch you stand up and make your way to the kitchen, eyebrows pressing together when you refused to return. He never was able to sleep well without you.
‘Jagi? Are you okay?” He’d finally say, bringing him from the bed and making his way over to you.
‘Go back to bed Jinyoung.’ You’d say. He’d realized that it wasn’t the kitchen that you had gone to, but the couch in the living room.
‘What are you doing in here?’ He said, eyebrows still pressed together.
‘Sleeping. Go away.’ You said rolling over so your back was not to him.
‘I dont understand why you would sleep out here when-’
‘Of course you don’t understand, Jinyoung! You never understand. You never open your eyes and realize how big of an idiot you are!’ You said, sitting fully up. You couldn’t help but cringe slightly at your choice of words.
‘Why are you acting like this?’ He’d say crossing his arms over his chest.
‘Why are you putting me second place to other girls? If i knew all it took was a few bats of the eyelash I wouldn’t have waisted any of my time!’ You said standing up so you were now practically nose to nose.
‘When did i put you second-’
‘The fact that you even have to ask that question is the reason why. I get it, girls flirt with you all day long, its apart of the job. But when Im- me the girl you live with and say ‘I love you’ too every night, when Im sitting there and its very obvious you’re into the attention the cute make up artist is giving you its very obvious I’m second.
‘Thats not true, y/n.’ He’d say making you scoff.
‘Then how about this,’ You started standing up, now more angry than ever. ‘You get to sleep on the couch tonight. See for yourself how it feels to be second.’ You said throwing the couch pillow at him and storming off into the bedroom. He wouldn’t let it drop that easy and would come bursting into the bed room, grabbing your hand and pulling you to look at him before you could get into bed.
‘Nothing. No one comes before you. Let that be clear. And now being aware of it I will make sure to put you where you deserve to be.’ He’d pause, hastily reaching for your cheek to stoke it, smiling slightly to himself when you let him. ‘I love you so much. Im so sorry you have to put up with my shit.’
The moment you had started to act distant towards him he’d know something was wrong. Usually when you got upset with him he’d wait it out, apologizing for what ever he did and you would turn around, tell him it was okay and the two of you would cuddle it out. This time was different. He had tried to hold your hand on the car ride home only to have you turn your attention to Jackson and start talking about how he thought the day went. He’d try again a little later, this time apologizing, but when you rolled your eyes knowing perfectly that he had no idea what he was apologizing for you’d just give him a stern look before folding your arms across your chest. Once home, he followed you like a puppy just trying to get you to talk to him but when you slammed the bathroom door in his face and turned on the water to drown out his calls he finally stopped. He’d go to your bedroom and sit on the bed with his head in his hands trying to figure out away to get you to tell him what was wrong. He ended on trying something new. No more pleading, just your favorite acts of love.
He’d watch you walk into your bedroom with just a towel wrapped around you. The daggers you sent him before turning back to your closet made him nervous. With a mental Fuck it He’d stand and close the space between the two of you. Just like he hoped you melted under his touch, letting him kiss up your neck till his lips landed on your cheek. You turned, ready to finally say anything and he’d press his lips to you, giving you the rough passionate kiss that always took you by surprise.
‘Im so sorry, I love you so much.’ He’d say between kisses. This brought reality back into your mind and instantly you pushed him off of you.
‘You don’t even know what your sorry about.’ you said softly, no matter how mad you were you couldn’t get yourself to yell at him.
‘Jae, you… That girl was all over you and you did nothing.’ You said biting your lip. The hurt in his eyes making you feel small and want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him. He hurt you though.
‘I didnt even realize it.’ He said, now knowing exactly what you were talking about. You gave a sarcastic laugh and shook you head, turning away from him once more.
‘You could have anyone and the fact that she felt like she could do that right infant of me just proves that you aren’t as serious about this as I am. I love you with all of my heart and you give girls the vibe that they can take you from me when ever they want. If that happened while I was sitting right next to you what happens when I’m not?’ You said, his eyes began to glisten at what you were suggesting.
‘I would never let anyone come between us, y/n. You know that.’
‘Do I? Because the one time you had a chance to actually prove that you did nothing.’
Thats what would wreck him. The fact that you were right, a girl was actively flirting with him and instead of stopping it he let it happen and he let you see it. He wouldn’t say anything other than a small ‘you’re right.’ to which you’d nod and let him pull you into another hug, this time accepting his promises to always be more attentive to what was happening around him, wether you were there or not.
You could hardly walk out of the bathroom you had been silently tearing in for the past hour without BamBam coming up behind you and slipping his hands under the towel that you clung to your body. ‘God, I want you so bad right now.’ He’d say, his lips grazing your ear before he nipped gently and started to kiss on your sweet spot. Normally you would be a giggling mess right now, already pooling in your panties just with the sole fact of getting him naked. He didnt seem to notice your lack of excitement through the feeling of your next to naked body was pressed against his already growing member. ‘You horny cause that bitch turned you on?’ You said finally getting enough courage to pull out of his grip. Not waiting for a response you walked into the bedroom and slammed the door, and quickly changing before he could walk into the room.
‘What do you mean?’ He’d say with a light bite to his voice.
‘Do you feel obligated to come back to me every night? Is that why we literally have sex all the time? Because girls at work are basically dry humping your dick and you feel like you can’t act on it? Do you picture them when you flip me over?’ You said throwing your towel at him. He caught it, his expression going from 100 to 0 real quick.
‘How could you say that?’ He said, his voice now small.
‘How could I say that?’ You started crossing your arms over your chest. ‘How could you basically let every girl in that room earlier know that Im just a show? That anyone could have you if they just tried hard enough!’ You said throwing the towel that was on your head at him now.
‘Does she fulfill your needs when I can’t? Will she let you do things that I’m uncomfortable with? Was that her marking her territory? Letting me know that you really don’t work late hours, that you spend more time with her?’ You yelled, frustration making your face read and your eyes tear up again.
‘Are you really- do you really think I would cheat on you?’ He said trying to take a step forward, but the look on your face told him he’d be better staying where he was.
‘I didnt think you would actually engage in a flirty conversation in front of me, but here we are.’
He was speechless. He knew there was nothing he could say to make you feel better and it was overwhelming. He’d move to sit on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands, wracking his brain on something to say that would make you feel better. Your heart lurched for him and for a second you wanted him to hold you, but you were to proud. It didnt help that he thought of him knocking boots with the make up artist in a closet kept running through your mind. With a single tear running down your cheek you started to walk out of the room, the sight of him making your feel sick. You had been so convinced up until now that he was the love of your life. That nothing could touch the two of you.
You weren’t even able to make it to the door when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you hard. You didnt even have a chance to stumble before he was hugging you tightly, his arms wrapping themselves around your neck and shoulders.
‘Please, please don’t. I would never… I love you so much, please don’t walk away.’
‘Then give me a reason to stay.’ you said, both of you crying silent tears. He’d sniffle and lean back just enough to take your cheeks between his hands. He looked at you longingly, thumbs softly stroking the backs of your cheeks. There was a slight hiccup in his chest before he kissed you softly. Despite how angry you were the same feeling of excitement and passion erupted through your entire body. It was so loud in your ear that you didnt even realize your arms had reached up to hold him to you.
‘Please believe me when I say Id never do anything like that.’
Walking out of the shower you’d walk right into his arms. You had looked so amazing that day and he could hardly wait to get you home and express just how beautiful you were to him. His lips would be on yours in an instant as he softly held your head to his. He’d tried to deepen the kiss but you weren’t budging. You couldn’t ever get yourself to hurt Yugyeom, no matter how stupid he could be at times. Even now as you were held tightly to his chest, the sight of the make up artist blowing on his lips and the noise he had made kept running through your mind. You finally pushed him off of you, feeling like you could taste her breath. ‘No. Not happening.’ You said walking away from him.
You’ve played this game before, let him kiss you a bit and then moving away. He knew you loved to be chased so with a goofy grin he’d walk quickly after you, bending so he could get a good grip of your waist before picking you up off the ground.
‘Yugyeom I said no!.’ You yelled prying his hands off of you before turning around and pushing his chest. His face would fall in confusion, now not quite sure how serious you were being. You’ve never pushed him away that hard before. He decided to try again thinking maybe third times a charm.
‘Get off of me!’ You screamed raising your elbow from his grip. ‘Do not touch me. Do not touch me, do not touch me! Damn get it through your thick skull!’ You yelled as you turned to face him.
‘Why are you being like this?’ He’d say, it now fully registering that you were pissed.
‘Oh I don’t know, maybe its the weather, maybe I’m on my period. Or maybe, and you’ll laugh at this one, maybe my boyfriend was sitting there letting some girl mock me while she basically pissed all over you!’ You yelled, not caring how loud your voice had gotten. You watched as his eyes closed and he sat on the bed.
‘What, you’re mad she proved to me how easy it is to get to you? How easy it would be for her to take you from me?’ You bit.
‘I would never leave you for her.’ he said, but it seemed to just make things worse.
‘Fine, maybe not her. But if she could get that close to get under my skin I can only imagine what someone else could do. You’re gone a lot and I thought you understood how i felt about you and how I feel about not being able to be with you all the time. Why shouldn’t I get mad when a girl who sees you more then I do starts blowing all over you. Actions speak louder than words and you the letting go of me the moment she batter her eyes at you was a message I received loud and clear.’
‘Y/n,’ He said looking back to you. You waited for him to say something but ended up scoffing as he took to long to find his words.
‘Y/n please, I didnt even realize-’
‘Of course you didnt, why would you.’
‘Don’t be like this.’ He’d say standing up and making his way over to you.
‘Like what? Worried that the one person I love more than anything else is allowing girls to throw themselves all over him? And then does it when I’m sitting right there? Do you know how much that hurts?’ You said, clearing your throat to try and hide the way it had faulted.
‘I messed up. I wasn’t even paying attention to her, I… Its sounds cliché…’ He started, but bit his lip and looked at the floor when you had risen an eyebrow at him. ‘Its just you looked so pretty today and I was embarrassed cause, well you do things to me…’
In that instant your hard face fell and your eyes widened.
‘Wait.’ You said, covering your mouth. ‘You were sitting there letting me scream at you because you were horny and trying to hide it?’ You said trying to hide your laugh.
‘Dont laugh at me, you always do that to me.’ He said giving you a small worried smile.
His body would relax when you reached out for him and hugged his was it tightly. ‘Im sorry I assumed the worse.’ You said into his shirt.
‘I didnt realize how bad it looked. Im sorry.’ He said hugging you back.
Characters: Y/N Padalecki, Jared Padalecki, Y/N’s parents (mentioned), Jensen Ackles, Danneel Ackles, Lucas Padalecki (OC), Sebastian Padalecki (OC), JJ Ackles, Arrow and Zeppelin Ackles
Pairing: Jared x Reader, Jensen x Danneel (brief)
Warnings: Family sucks and waxing hurts. Jared is an amazing, patient, wonderful husband (and yes that’s a warning).
Word Count: 1600ish
A/N: This was born out of a conversation I had with @blacktithe7 (and no this time it is not turning into a series lol) I hope you will have fun reading cause I had fun writing it. As always no wife hate here. I love Gen - she is just not married to the moose here for the purpose of the story :)
Erin also betaed this mess for me so thanks a lot darling <3
***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***
You knew that your family was uptight and that they would always find something to pick on you for. You had always been the black sheep of the family. Never as successful as your brother or as pretty as you sister. No matter what life decisions you made they seemed to be wrong. Every time you saw them it was something new too.
First, they disapproved that you decided to marry an actor. You sister had even said straight to your face it was only a matter of time before he was going to cheat on you with someone younger and prettier guest starring on his show. You hadn’t minded that one too much though. No matter what they said, it couldn’t make your trust or love for Jared waver. He had never give you a reason to doubt him, and you didn’t need their approval to love him. He was good for you and you for him. You knew you could face whatever was thrown at you as long as you faced it together, your family included.