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happy74827 ¡ 8 hours
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Early Seasons Castiel 🔛🔝
Song: Obsessed — Mariah Carey
Show: Supernatural
Character: Castiel
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happy74827 ¡ 19 hours
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When I read a fanfic I like, the author becomes a mini celebrity to me. So when an author with a work I like kudos’ or comments on my own fanfic I just-
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happy74827 ¡ 2 days
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The Demon With A Heart
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[Crowley x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.
WC: 1858
Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}
Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.
『••✎••』
You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.
No, the demon.
You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.
He just saved you—The King of Hell.
The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.
The thought was a bit unsettling.
"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."
He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.
"Crowley."
The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
"Thank you"
The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.
And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.
You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.
But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.
It was all too real.
So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?
Was it because he… cared?
One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.
You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.
That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.
"Alright, what did you two-"
You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.
"Crowley…"
"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.
You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.
"Where are the boys?"
"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."
That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.
You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.
At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.
But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.
As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.
So that’s where the Winchesters were.
You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.
"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.
He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.
"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."
You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.
"Save me all those months ago."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.
"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"
Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.
You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.
He almost looked ashamed.
"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.
You decided to call his bluff.
"I don't believe you."
Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.
"And what makes you say that?"
"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."
The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.
He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.
"You care."
Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.
A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.
"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."
"Do you?"
You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.
Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?
Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.
It was almost adorable.
"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."
"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."
"Crowley"
You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.
The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.
"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."
The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.
"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"
You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?
"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.
"Do you actually mean that?"
"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.
He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.
"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."
You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...
He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.
The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.
"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."
Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.
"TouchĂŠ"
You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.
"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"
Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.
"The hell is going on here?"
You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.
Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.
And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.
"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.
Had the beauty thawed the beast?
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happy74827 ¡ 8 days
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Butterflies
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[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: You know you’re screwed when you feel them fluttering in your chest {GIF Creds: jeysuso}.
WC: 717
Category: Fluff
For all my Harvey lovers out there, I made a cute fluffy quickie (I’m seeing a lot of my fics being swarmed with love so why not add to it 🤗)
『••✎••』
It happened over a bottle of bourbon. A spilled bottle, actually. But a bottle of bourbon nonetheless, and that is important to note.
You didn’t mean to spill the alcohol all over your date, but he had made some comment about how you shouldn't be wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, so you just… happened to tip the entire thing over him.
The man was furious, of course, but he left pretty quickly after that. And you were left with a mess on the floor and a waiter hovering at the side, asking if you wanted another bottle.
You told him no. You just wanted to go home.
You didn't want a new date; you didn't want to sit at this stupid table with the stupid white tablecloth, the stupid, gaudy candlesticks, or the stupid waiter with the stupid, expectant look on his face.
"Miss?"
"No, thank you," you say, a little more firmly, gathering up your things and leaving as much cash as you can on the table. If you were smart, you'd have brought an umbrella, but you're not smart, so you'll just get drenched like an idiot.
But, fortunately for you, the person calling your name knew you well enough to know you weren’t that smart.
Before a drop of water could even hit your hair, a tall, dark figure steps out in front of you and blocks the downpour. Some might consider this a gentlemanly action, but you knew the man, and he was hardly ever a gentleman.
"You're welcome," Harvey says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You're a pain," you reply, but you're grateful for the cover.
"And you're dateless. So, I see two options: we can have dinner and a drink back at my place, or we can do dinner and a drink back at mine."
You can't help but laugh. "Did you use this on Scottie? I see why she left. That line was bad."
"You're not going to ask how I knew you were here?"
"Nope. You probably had Louis stalk me."
"Don't talk about the puppy like that."
"So you did have him stalk me!"
"I prefer the term 'make sure you were alright,'" Harvey replies, and he holds out his arm to you. "Guy was a douche. Let me buy you dessert to make up for it. And I don’t mean in the biblical sense, although that can be arranged, too, if you'd like."
"Harvey, you’re such—"
You turned to him, ready to tell him exactly what you thought of him, but the words died when you met his eyes. Those same eyes that allured you into taking his offer at Pearson Hardman. The same eyes that made you agree to work with him on the case despite your better judgment.
In a flash, you saw the whole thing: your first meeting, the cases, the laughs, the looks, the touches. And now, the moment.
When you were younger, the term butterflies had never really made sense to you. The idea of feeling them in your stomach seemed ridiculous, and yet, there you were, feeling them for the very first time.
They were all fluttering around inside of you, and all you could think was, "Oh, no."
And as if the universe had heard you, it suddenly stopped raining, and you both stood there in the middle of the street, the moon casting a warm light on your faces.
Harvey noticed it, too, and his expression softened. His usual cockiness was replaced with a gentle concern. "You okay?"
You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah."
Harvey reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than it needed to. He gave you that signature grin and asked, "You look like a velvet cake kind of girl. Am I right?"
He was right.
Goddamnit, he was right.
And as he swaddled you in his coat to keep you warm as you both went back inside, the anger and confusion you felt earlier melted into a quiet, warm glow.
Date night had not gone according to plan, but when his lips met yours and your hands slid through his soft, brown hair, you realized that, perhaps, sometimes, it was good to deviate from the plan.
The butterflies seemed to agree.
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happy74827 ¡ 8 days
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Hi! 😊
Can I request a fluffy long oneshot with prompts: "Uh-m, S-scott? I'm not too s-sure about t-this one..", "Can I see?" and "Wow... you look... you look amazing." about Scott Pilgrim (Scott Pilgrim Take Off ) shy!female!reader are going to the swimsuit shopping at mall? How would Scott reacts to shy!female!reader trying on/modeling five swimsuits for him?
Hint: This swimsuit shopping idea was Ramona who gives a advice to her for catching Scott's attention. 😂
I really live for flustered Scott Pilgrim! 💕 Please??
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Mayhem Market
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[Scott Pilgrim x Shy!Female!Reader]
Synopsis: You thought trying on bathing suits would be terrifying. That changed, however, when you noticed his eyes.
WC: 1243
Category: Fluff
Sorry it took so long 😭🙏
『••✎••』
Bathing suit shopping is always something you dreaded doing. You didn't really like the attention that you got while out in public. The stares you would get as you walked through the store always made you feel nervous and self-conscious. And you weren’t very comfortable in a swimsuit at all, but since it was summer and you had promised Scott you would go to his band's beach party, you had to suck it up and try to find one you would feel comfortable wearing.
Ramona figured the occasion would be the perfect way to “bring you out of your shell" and practically forced you to make a bet. Pick five different swimsuits, model each one, and if you still hated shopping after, she would do your laundry for a month. If you enjoyed yourself, then she’d get free use of your awesome sound system. You accepted, though not without hesitation.
The catch, however, was that you had to try them on for Scott. And she didn’t tell you until the two of you were already in the store. Ramona made sure you didn’t bail (which she knew you would) by dragging you there herself. In her mind, Scott was going to be the judge.
And there you were, trying on your third swimsuit, which was a black and white striped tankini. You weren’t sure if you were actually going to get it, but the top fit well, and the bottom had a built-in skirt. You looked cute in it if nothing else.
A bit low-cut but still cute. To everyone else? Well, you could practically hear the future rumors. Possibly the few whistles you would receive.
Scott, on the other hand, would think you were adorable. He was kind of like that.
So, with that in mind, you took a deep breath and pushed open the curtain, walking out into the brightly lit fitting area. Upon seeing his eyes, your arms quickly rubbed at the exposed skin of your shoulders and upper chest, and you avoided his gaze, face burning.
"Uh… Scott? I’m… I’m not too sure about this one."
It was silent for a moment, and then he suddenly jumped to his feet, staring at you in disbelief.
"Wow. You look... you look amazing."
You finally looked at him, and for that one second in your life, everything just disappeared. Your mind wasn’t focused on someone else, or your fears, or any other thought in the world. It was focused on his eyes, the magical look he was giving you, the fact that the blush on his face matched yours and that his smile was so warm and genuine that it made you want to melt.
"I—really?” Your voice squeaked out. Pure excitement shot through you. You had never really been called beautiful or gorgeous by anyone. Not even Scott. Sure, he would occasionally tell you that you looked nice, but that was about it.
Scott was about as socially awkward as you were… probably why you two made such a good couple.
So hearing him say those words now was… unexpected, to say the least.
"Yeah! I mean it! You look so… wow," He spoke with a sigh, a daze falling over his eyes as he took in every detail.
You could feel your entire face heating up. Your heart started pounding. And for once, you were speechless.
“The other two were okay… but this one? You really rock this one, y'know." He was grinning from ear to ear as he approached you. You couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. He had an awed expression on his face, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted.
You had never seen him look at you like that before. It was such a nice feeling.
"Thank you," You managed to speak up, a smile on your face.
"You still got two more, right? If this one is any indication of how you'll look in the others, we're gonna have to keep the water cold at the beach because you are smoking hot… uh... in a good way... and—"
"Okay!" You spun on your heel, dragging the curtain closed. Enough was enough; you were so red it looked like your head was on fire. It took you a minute or so to cool off, but you finally calmed down enough to finish the final two.
The next one, you refused to show him. The bikini was way too revealing for you; it looked good, but… nope, nope. It would’ve drawn too much attention, almost to the point where Envy would be jealous.
Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating, but the thought of people staring at you like that made your stomach turn. That was definitely a no-go.
So you settled on showing him the final one. It was a one-piece suit with a halter top and a little bow at the hip. Much more conservative than the others.
"What about this one?"
Scott blinked as you came back out again and then transitioned to his thinking face. Oh God, please don’t let him say anything stupid, you prayed.
"I like the third one better.”
“Oh.”
“This is still good, but the third one was just perfect. Y'know? The stripes. The skirt. Just everything about it was …”
Revealing? Over-the-top? Attention-grabbing?
Scott shrugged, and his words faded. He smiled and gave you an awkward thumbs-up. He may be bad with words, but at least he was honest. Most guys would have said something flirty, but Scott would never do that. He didn't even know how.
That was fine. You liked the way he complimented you.
"Okay. Thanks, Scott." You said, turning to head back inside the dressing room.
"So, are you gonna get it?"
You paused. Were you?
Your options didn’t leave you with much. Buy it and lose… don’t and win? But then you’re stuck with the one at home. Which, in hindsight, didn't seem all that bad, except it was too comfortable and most likely would feel out of place at the beach party.
Or, you could buy it, suck it up, and go to the damn beach party.
"Scott… I- I don’t know. Maybe.."
"Come on. We'll have fun! I promise. Get it. You look great in it. Plus, anything you wear will be overshadowed by Envy’s bathing suit. You’ll fit in!
“Scott! That doesn’t make me… never mind." You shook your head, fearing for the result of an argument in the middle of a department store. You’d scold him in the car.
"Okay. I'll buy it. But if I get any weird looks or stares, I'm blaming you." You threatened though you couldn't hide the amusement in your voice. Scott tended to be the anchor in these situations. He always managed to cheer you up and keep you calm, even when you were ready to have a mental breakdown.
"Deal." Scott grinned, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched you disappear behind the curtain. "I'll be waiting outside the door. I'm starving."
You could practically hear the smile in his voice. You had to resist the urge to laugh.
"Okay, thanks."
After a quick change back into your normal clothes, you grabbed the suit and headed out before immediately being met with Ramona
"Sooo?" She asked. You could practically hear the smile in her voice. She knew, and you despised her for it.
"I’m buying it." You sighed.
"I knew to stick around long enough, I'd hear those words. Pay up, Scott. She's a model now!"
"Oh, yeah." Scott pulled out his wallet, and you watched with wide eyes as Ramona took it.
She smiled, the usual one she wore whenever she had the upper hand.
"Hey! What happened to our deal!?" You questioned, crossing your arms.
"I never said I’d make only one bet with you. Decided to tag team."
"You two are jerks."
"We love you, too. Now hurry up and pay. Scott's hungry, and I want to hit the dyes before we go home."
You glared but headed towards the register regardless.
You had to admit, the whole situation had been fun. Not the whole part where Ramona got to use your stereo, but the fact that you could still see the look on Scott's face as he praised you.
He really thought you were pretty. Beautiful, as he put it. Maybe you could look past the other glaring eyes for the sake of seeing that expression on his face once more.
Besides, if Envy could handle a million stares, you can handle a few.
At least, you hoped.
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happy74827 ¡ 9 days
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THIS IS SO SWEET OMGGGG 🥹🥹🥹
Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
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happy74827 ¡ 12 days
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Thought this would be funny to share lmaoo
Song: Karma’s a Bi**h — Brit Smith
Movie: Five Nights at Freddy’s (2023)
Character: Steve Raglan/William Afton
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happy74827 ¡ 12 days
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Tumblr fyp getting too real now because I LITERALLY just posted a fic of this man and now my page is swarmed of him (ofc not that I’m actually complaining 👀🫣)
I never understood why women thought being in a headlock during sex was so hot until…
Like I need him so bad y’all it’s soooo… 😭😭😭
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happy74827 ¡ 12 days
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I love how it’s the same pose, but you can clearly feel the different emotions just through his eyes.
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harvey's puppy dog eyes are something else
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happy74827 ¡ 12 days
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So I saw some… interesting things, and I just wanted to put out a little reminder to be kind and respectful with writers (especially when requesting something).
Us writers take the time to put out things we enjoy to help give that same enjoyment to others. We don’t have to, but it’s something we want to do. A funny hobby (to give it an explanation).
Please, please, please be patient and respectful when it comes to these things. Being hateful to someone or demanding a request isn’t the way to go about it. In fact, it causes us to despise writing and a lot of writers stop and leave because of it. Unfortunately, I’ve seen a lot of cases with that result. Even some of my favorite writers 😔
So, this goes without saying, writers are human.
We’re all human.
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happy74827 ¡ 13 days
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If you want to feel better, compare your present writing with your past self. You can only go upwards with practice and time 🙏✨
Comparing yourself to other writers is the killer of every new story you’d like to write
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happy74827 ¡ 13 days
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Contagiously Human.
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[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Killing was always the easiest part for him, but this… you… well, as fate would have it, that created a new problem for him. {GIF Creds: brothermoser}
WC: 1881
Category: Plot-Driven, Maybe Some Fluff/Angst…?
Someone asked me if I’d ever thought about writing Biney… and well, I decided to put my thought into actual words 🤷‍♀️
Just for some minor clarification, this is pretty much a “what if” fic in which Dexter does not end his life. This being said, I picture this taking place around season 5-6 ish.
『••✎••』
Hesitation.
The thing that makes or breaks a killer. The line that separates predator from prey. It's the pause between life and death, the time a man takes to make the decision, and whether he'll live to regret it or not.
He’s never had hesitation. Not once. In fact, he relishes in it; he finds peace in knowing that he can decide one way or another and be content with either outcome. It makes him a dangerous man, unpredictable, a ticking time bomb.
His baby brother, his blood, had the disease. The disease of being too much of a good person, feeling guilt, having morals, a sense of what's right and wrong. He was weak, he hesitated, and he wasn’t even aware of how much the disease was eating him alive until that Trinity Killer came around.
He was supposed to protect his brother, save him from himself, and show him the proper way of things. The way of survival. Of the hunt. But no, Brian wasn’t there to catch him. To stop him.
So, as all good brothers do, he’s here to fix him. To set him straight and rid him of the disease. Forever.
It's an easy task, really. His little brother is so trusting and caring that he'd do anything for the ones he loved. Why not start by showing him why he shouldn't?
Because clearly, the loss of his apparent wife wasn’t enough. He needed to understand, truly and absolutely, that the world would only disappoint him. It's a harsh lesson but a necessary one.
So, that led him to you. His brother’s friend from school. The woman, aside from Dexter’s poor excuse for a sister, that his brother actually cared about.
Just like him, you were naive. Trusting, too. Friendly to everyone, completely unaware of the monsters that hid in the shadows. His brother included.
You might’ve never killed someone, but with everything else, it was clear why his brother was so interested in you. He always loved the innocent ones.
So, the question was, how would he go about it? He could take you somewhere, but the element of surprise was an important factor. You had to believe you were safe and comfortable before he could make his move.
A Debra repeat? Or a more... Unique approach. He'd think about it, plan it out, and strike at the perfect moment.
He wouldn’t hesitate, after all.
When the day presented itself, the stars had aligned, and everything was just right; he made his move. It was noon, a warm Sunday.
You were in your little bookshop, reading one of the books in your free time. Business had been slow today, as most people were enjoying the weather.
You never saw him coming. He was the type to blend into the crowd, the type that you'd see once and forget about. The type you'd pass on the street without a second thought.
He had his ways, of course, and his way was simple. A simple, kind greeting. One that had your eyes lighting up as if you'd never seen another person before.
He was charming, handsome, the perfect man to lure you in. You didn’t stand a chance.
That's what led him here, picking up your fallen book and handing it to you, watching the smile that graced your lips.
A romance novel, of course. How ironic.
"Oh, uh, thank you. That’s very kind."
You smiled, a hint of blush dusting your cheeks. Far more tame than that Debra woman, thankfully. He didn’t have to fight back the urge to roll his eyes.
"Tea and romance? Can’t say I blame you." He pulled a gentle grin, one that had you blushing further, more so of embarrassment this time.
"It's the first of a series. A favorite, actually, I’ve been rereading it." You explained, holding the book to your chest. He didn’t miss the way your thumb rubbed over the spine, fond and gentle.
Just from that, he knew. He was going to have fun with you. “Believe it or not, I read the first one too. A few months ago, actually. It was quite the page-turner. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, I swear."
You laughed, soft and airy, and for a moment, he found himself smiling genuinely. His lie was working, and he couldn’t believe it was that easy.
"I've only heard mixed reviews on it.” You spoke, moving to place the book back on the shelf. "I'm glad to hear you liked it. Marienne’s death was hard, wasn't it?"
"Very." He agreed though it was a lie. He had to pretend he cared. "It was a shame; I really enjoyed the character."
"You did?" You raised a brow, surprised. “Most people didn’t. Given that she doesn’t even exist.”
Shit.
He cleared his throat, a slight pause. He was so blinded by the idea of finally getting to his brother that he'd forgotten.
You were a reader, an author; of course, you would know the ins and outs of the story. The characters, the plot, and every little detail. Why would you not?
First rule of hunting. Don’t get cocky.
"Alright, I admit. I've been caught." He gave a small shrug, his voice holding a hint of sheepishness. Maybe you’d fall for it. “I couldn’t help myself; I figured you wouldn’t appreciate my love for fantasy books."
"Fantasy?" You tilted your head, and he knew. You bought it. You were a sucker for fantasy; you didn't like it when others looked down on them.
"I'm a bit of a nerd. Guilty pleasure."
"I didn’t peg you for the fantasy type…” You raised your eyebrow, though a smile still rested on your lips—a look of amusement.
"Really? Most people can't seem to look past the collared shirt.
"No, it's not that. It's your aura." You shook your head, and now, it was his turn to raise his brow. What the hell did that mean?
"My aura?"
"Those books in your hands..” You nodded towards his bag, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. "You're definitely not a casual reader. My guess is everything in there is a throwaway.”
"And that means...?"
"You're bullshit through and through. You don't like romance or fantasy. In fact, I think you absolutely hate it."
Oh. Oh, you clever thing. Now, he truly understood why his brother connected with you so much. You'd figured him out, and yet, you had no clue. You were clever, smarter than you let on.
"Alright,” He held his hands up in mock surrender. He was enjoying this; for once, someone could see through his façade. See his true self. It was a rush.
“If you’re so smart, what do I like then?"
"Hmm, let's see...” And just like that, you were off with him in tow. You were taking him along on a trip through the shelves, looking through the genres, searching and searching.
He was intrigued, his eyes locked on you, his ears drinking in the sound of your hums and contemplation. Your mind was running, spinning, thinking. You were truly in your element.
"Well, let's start with what I know. You like horror." You said, turning towards the horror section and picking up a book. "You seem like the type who enjoys the dark side of humanity and likes to see the bad guy win."
Damn.
He was almost impressed. Almost.
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Eyes. They tell the most about a person. You’ve seen a lot, and it shows. I could tell just by looking at you. Your eyes are... Cold. Empty." You said, and it was then that he realized you were more observant than you appeared. Naivety might’ve not been a part of your personality, but trust was. You trusted a lot. Too much. “Are you a cop, by chance? You've got the whole detective thing going on."
"Prosthetist, actually." He answered, his hand reaching out and picking up a book at random. He wasn't a fan of fiction, not really. He preferred nonfiction; it was more realistic—less pointless details.
"Oh, wow, I was completely off. I didn’t expect that." You mused, looking up at him with those eyes. You had such an expressive face; it was amazing how easy you were to read. He could practically see the gears turning. How could he use this?
"Expected an axe murderer, did you?" He joked, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Maybe. Wouldn’t that be a twist?" You grinned a glint of amusement in your eye. “Speaking of, that’s probably what you like. Thrillers. Those kinds of stories are full of twists and turns. No one is who they appear to be. Kinda like you, hm?"
"Ouch."
"Sorry, am I being too honest?"
"No, I like it. Keep going." He was having fun. With Debra, it was exhausting. She was so stubborn, so headstrong, she never listened. It took him about three coffees just to have enough patience to deal with her sob story.
But with you, you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t have to force himself awake or hide his boredom. He could just enjoy it, relish in the moment, and the fact that you were so easy to play with.
You pulled out three books: two thrillers and one horror. A classic and a new one. "These are what I recommend. Start with Primal Fear; that’s the one I believe you'll like the most. The first one might take you a while, but if you stick with it, the sequel will be worth it.
He reached forward, his hand brushing over yours, his touch lingering as he took the book. He purposely brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, just enough for a spark to go through your veins.
He saw the way your breath hitched, and he smirked. This was too easy.
"Thank you, you've been a great help."
"One more thing before you go." You spoke, stopping him. His eyes moved up from the book to your own, and there he saw something that made him falter.
Something that made him freeze longer than he should have.
You had a fire behind those eyes. A flame that burned with a passion, a curiosity that threatened to eat him alive. A want, a need, to get into his head. To peel him open and look inside.
Your eyes weren't cold or empty like his. They were alive. Full of life.
"Books don’t impress women,” Your voice was low, a secret, something meant only for him to hear. “It’s the passion that opens their hearts. You have nothing if you can't show it."
"I think I've misjudged you." He spoke, his hand resting on the shelf above your head. He had no choice but to lean closer, and he felt the way your breath fanned across his skin.
"Oh?"
"Yes. You're a lot more than you appear, aren’t you?"
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
The question was left unanswered. He didn't give a response because, in truth, he didn't know.
He left that day not with his brother’s cure or even the thought of him. He left with three books.
Three books and the disease he believed to be immune to…
Hesitation.
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[@numetalnerd2007] Since you asked, I figured this would automatically mean you were interested. At least I hope you were 💀
That being said, please be nice to me for this one since it’s my first time writing for Biney here (and I haven’t rewatched season 1 in forever), so his character probably isn’t 100% solid. It’s a work in progress 🙏✨
Also, for all my Joe Goldberg fans out there, did you catch the reference I made? I see a slight resemblance between Brian and Joe, so I wanted to sneak it in a little something. I think it’s the hair, honestly.
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happy74827 ¡ 13 days
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Ur johnny lawrence work is SO good! I'm actually obsessed with him 🥲 do you take requests?
I absolutely do 🤭🤭 (I’m also heavily obsessed)
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happy74827 ¡ 15 days
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lay all your love on me.
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eggsy x fem!reader
  eggsy's life was a bit... hectic. you knew this very well, and if you even stopped to think about it, it was comical.
between the two of you there was no fight over which of you worked more. because you were a normal citizen and really didn't have an ounce of envy of your boyfriend's work. eggsy—or better said, agent galahad, had a job that, to begin with, you wouldn't even know what it was if it weren't for the man's desperate circumstances of having you in his life forever.
  harry even begged him to continue with the charade of being a carefree young man for a longer time. but, he couldn't. after seeing you for the first time, he was sure he wanted to trust you with all his secrets. so, after what was like two dates, eggsy had to tell you the whole truth after accidentally wearing the elegant shoes with sharp poison spikes to the thrid date who happend on a very charming restaurant.
  it had been a somewhat risky decision, and obviously, he had done it without the consent of any other kingsman agent. but as he himself said: everything had worked out in the end! almost everything, actually.
  there were days when eggsy would leave early and return two days later. there were days when some bruises were visible here and there. and every day, when you were alone in the bed to start your own day, you prayed to god or any other entity that was willing to listen to your despair, that eggsy would come home. and that day was no different.
after arriving home and being greeted by darkness, you turned on the lights and felt something comfortable in your body. eggsy had called quickly to say he would be home for dinner. and there you were in the kitchen trying to do the least for the person you loved most in life. the longing eggsy felt was the same as yours, multiplied by two. he couldn't imagine himself in a world where the woman who was the source of his courage to stay alive didn't exist. from the moment he had seen your figure in that huge ballroom in one of his missions, he knew it that his life it would depended on you.
and that feeling grew when he brutally opened the wooden door of the house you shared. the first to receive it was JB, who soon stopped before moving a little closer. the dog stood still like a statue, with only its little tail swaying from one side to the other. eggsy was totally dirty.  clothes that were once high quality and beautiful, torn and covered in mud.
eggsy sighed as he stared at JB, slowly walking towards you. it was inevitable, there was no way not to notice his presence. a huge stain of dirt, standing in front of you. eggsy laughed as your eyes widened.  and he kept laughing when you hugged him. after a few seconds, the realization hit. he was filthy but still, you hugged him tightly.
"my god, you scared me." eggsy heard you whispering. the man closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of food, the smell of his perfume. JB was whimpering as he scratched eggsy's leg.  for the first time, eggsy realized he had a family he would die for.
"what happened to you? you're filthy." you said with a giggle, pulling away from your boyfriend and looking at your own clothes which were also dirty after the hug.
"i love you." eggsy said holding your wrists, and then hugging you again.
"oh... i love you too." the sudden statement left you a little confused but happy. when eggsy released you again, you immediately turned off the stove so as not to burn the fish, following eggsy around the house with JB on your arms while he told you about his adventures.
hallway, living room, hallway again, bedroom.  eggsy pretended not to notice your big, bright eyes as he told everything and made jokes about almost dying.
"anyways, i missed you." he said with a sincere smile and then faced JB, petting the dog's small head. "and I missed you too, little thing."
when you and eggsy had met, he was still like a dog that had been thrown into the street. afraid to trust anyone, with armor in his heart. he was totally different now.
"you should take a shower, seriously." you said laughing. eggsy was still dirty as hell. the scene was even funnier after he said that he had fallen with his car and everything into the water and crawled in the dirt.
"well... you're dirty too now..." he said with a small smile, raising his eyebrows. you gently dropped JB to the floor, grabbing your boyfriend's arm as he walked into the bedroom's bathroom.
"oh? tell me more about it, mister galahad." you said, closing the bathroom door, leaving JB in the bedroom.
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ps: the story takes place in the second film, when eggsy fights with charlie but eggsy doesn't have manhole dirt for the sake of this story.
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happy74827 ¡ 15 days
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Me texting you about my shiny new idea every hour LMFAO @yoursacredqueenmother
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@yoursacredqueenmother Harvey’s looking a little too fine in this picture 👀
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happy74827 ¡ 15 days
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YUPPPPP 😫👏👏
Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
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